Fantasy Quintessential Principles on Hexes—selected writings, by Marguerite Faux-Antilis with Tessia te Vree

[madfiddler]

Set in a parallel world of the nineteenth century but one of monsters and magic the story follows the sorcerers and sorceresses that make up section nine (curses) of the world bureau of magic as they go about their seemingly routine interactions with jealous ghosts, gateways to a seventh hell, and the machinations of an undying woman in this tale of the occult.


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Act I


A Curse of Lingering


Nostain the great, also known as the golden, is a powerful city state spanning a series of magically built islands on the Baltic ruled by a magocratic hierarchy. It is know as country of magic and artistry, the streets are paved with alenthite (a magic stone that moves; popular with sculptors) statues depicting the great men and women of Nostain splayed from the meanest districts to the glittering golden college of mages in Vikovarro (main island). But these are distractions in comparison to the one distinction of what makes Nostain "Nostain."


A country of vast wealth through the export of magic--spell prints, concoctions, enchantments--indeed founded by mages in pursuit of riches, which through mastery (of magic) and commerce won them a nation of their own. Now Opulence reigns among the elite, with the wealthiest vehemently displaying their lucre with such unwarranted excess that it would put french and Italian aristocrats to shame. One trend in particular and perhaps the mostly strongly associated with the Nostain are the floating mansions---not for the living, but for the departed.


A growing tradition among the most affluent of Nostain are the construction of elaborate tombs, some of which are built when they are still quite young, wherein upon completion will be suspended in the skies above the cities resembling something which can only be described as a floating necropolis.


Incredible palaces, complete with gardens, bathhouses, and ballrooms, all utterly silent, kept only for the dead.





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-Vienna, Austria. Schönbrunn Palace, headquarters of the Bureau.


"Multifaceted glows?" Retorted Janvila. In which director Loghain added "Yes. There are strange noises as well." Something in the way the old man said this irked Jan enough for her lips to recoil and her eyes to narrow suggesting indignation on her part."(sighs) Director, Nostain is..." But before she could finish her words Loghain struck up from his overly imposing recliner (matching his equally over-imposing desk) and proceeded to rummage about his office absentmindedly. Jan who could only look on with annoyance and a growing sense of impatience was about ready storm out when suddenly "Aha! There it is. Thought I lost it for a moment there (chuckles)." In his hand was a strange case, lidless, in which he proceeded in jumbling it assuring its content or contents were still there. "Here, I want you to take this." "What is it?" asked Jan curiously. "Something very important." Again this irked Jan who wasn't too fond of the new director's cryptic manner of talking. "Alright, that's settled. Off you go." "W-Wait, What?! Hold on for a moment! You--" "No ifs or buts agent. Get going." In which the director's office suddenly came to life and forcefully expelled Jan out.

 

[Cyan]

Hadrian let out a long, tired yawn. He had barely gotten four hours of sleep due to reading, rewriting, and translating ancient scrolls of text throughout the night. He had just delivered the last of the revised documents to the archives and was thoroughly relieved to have gotten the tedious task done with. He trudged through the wide, empty halls towards the directors office to receive a new assignment. Hadrian hadn't even knocked when the double doors came swinging open and a figure came flying out. He had hardly anytime to comprehend what had happened as he lay flat on his back on the cold marble floor. "Jan?" He managed to groan as the sorceress' face came into view. "Percival!" The director exclaimed, walking towards the entrance "Have you deciphered those scrolls yet?". Hadrian gave a small nod and opened his mouth to speak but was promptly interrupted. "Could you do me a favor and assist Agent Vigo on her current mission?" "Well I--" "Wonderful!". And with that the doors to the director's office slammed shut with a resounding bang. There was a bit of unpleasant silence until Hadrian cleared his throat, finally deciding to speak up."Can you please move? Your knee is crushing my rib cage".

 

[Zoran]

Zoran stood, back turned to the latest town that had been burned. He could feel the intense heat on his back. He stood there a moment longer while he lit a ciggerette.


"They can never help themselves" he said after taking a draft "The bounty just looks to appeasing"


A hand grabbed his coat and tugged on it. Zoran looked down at a man that was badly burned. Zoran moved forward and his coat was yanked out of the burned mans hands.


"Why, why would you do this to us?" asked the burned man.


"You did this to yourself" Zoran said as he took one last drag and flicked his ciggerette into the burning town. He walked away his hands in his pockets, they werent his problem anymore.

 

[Shanhub]

Fire leaped into the air. Aria was putting together a show in yet another town. She was unconsciously charming the men in the audience. They were like dogs gazing at a bouncing slab of meat. Their eyes followed her every move. Their jaws were dropped and so were their morals. Halfway through the performance the men rushed her, some of which leaving their female companions behind, and attacked her two male slaves. They had to have her and those two men couldn't. The two were able to escape with their lives and bring around a carriage for their master. The three escaped quickly. This was a problem. Her ability to charm men was growing and getting worse. They set a course for the next town, Nostain.

 

[madfiddler]

"That no good, obnoxious, unfit, rude [incoherent rambling]" maundered Jan picking herself up from the carpet oblivious of Hadrian's presence and suffering. This wasn't the first time in Egil Loghaine's three month directorship that Jan found herself being dismissed in the most unsavory manner. Egil Loghaine, who was a former scholar (before being drafted) with a penchant for the esoterical arts that some say is the cause of his curious behavior. After twenty years of service as a researcher and archivist for the bureau, completely unknown to most, this promotion--to one of the most prestigious positions in the organization--came as a complete surprise to most, including the man, and undoubtedly what irritates Jan the most. Who does this nobody with no experience with curses giving her orders and tossing her about like a rag doll think he is? "Ugh! Why couldn't have mistress Lobelle taken over instead?" she continued. Lobelle Rossiere, a sorceress of the twelfth order (highest) and former mentor to Janvila Vigo, and also one of the mages who lifted the Vorvok's curse on her as an infant. She was originally the prime candidate for section nine's directorship but declined it taking up a clerical position instead. A choice that shocked and angered Jan. "Stupid, naive... [more incoherent rambling]" This she shortly followed with a rather crude impression of her former master. "Jan dear you have to understand the process for the directorial position takes time and i'm already seven months pregnant. Pwease you have to understand blah! blah! blah! BLECH!" "Why would you get pregnant in the first place then?! What's so great about having a kid anyway? Magic knows what it does to a woman's body! [incoherent rambling, again]"

 

[Cyan]

"I see you've had a pleasant morning" Hadrian stated. He rose to his feet and brushed the nonexistent dust off his rumpled coat. It appeared that another troublesome chore had been assigned to him once again. He wasn't sure what to make of the new directors eccentricities but to be completely honest, he found the old man strange and if not a bit daft. Hadrian continued to listen to Jan's ramblings before spotting a peculiar case that lay slightly overturned on the carpeted floor. He picked the object up from the ground and held it gingerly in his hands. "Is this yours?" He asked, peering curiously at its contents.

 

[madfiddler]

With her tantrum mildly thawed Jan began to notice a figure standing beside her who seemed familiar with her but not her to him, her attention though quickly shifted to what the stranger was clutching in his hands. "Hey, that's mine!" swiftly seizing the item. Taking a moment to analyze the figure, with his long unkempt hair and overall foppish look--unlike the plain habit of the bureau--she assumed he was a lost civilian of some sort who wandered in there by mistake. "Hey buddy you aren't allowed in here without permission" a hint of scorn in her voice "I suggest you leave now unless you want your head scrubbed of the last five years of your life." Jan who was never the sociable type---a byproduct of her circumstance. Growing up she was often shunned or harassed out of rumors of her less than ideal birth, constantly tormented with words like "whorespawn" or "monster," sometimes coupled with physical infliction such as stones or a handful of dirt, going to and fro from her home. As a result Jan nurtured a cold and confrontational demeanor, something that doesn't exactly get you friends.

 

[Cyan]

"That would be a blessing wouldn't it?" Hadrian muttered, unconsciously fiddling with his eye patch "Now if the bureau could just do that to the rest of the world then most of my problems would be solved". And it was true. For the past year or so the incident in which caused the unusual influx of deaths had been been pinned to his previous and more than likely last concerto considering that half the orchestra was either dead or in a coma. The populous was a fickle crowd and it didn't take long for them to make the most beloved young man in all of Europe to be a convicted felon throughout the night. Hadrian admitted that it had been his own curiosity and stupidity for manipulating something as forbidden as human emotions. But the crime had been done and with it came a permanent 'scar' that all but tarnished his reputation. The one thing that affected him more than his deprivation of a career and way of life had been the sudden loss of his right eye. He could very well still see with the thing it was just that anyone that so much as glanced at it would have a strong urge to kill themselves. He had found this out when his entire family, including his little brother, had jumped off the newly constructed Tower Bridge to their deaths. That hadn't settled too well with the already apprehensive masses and it wasn't long before Hadrian had been forced to run from his own birth country. Of course the bureau had found him days later, hiding among the slums of London and offered him a job as they hadn't wanted his magical talents to 'go to waste' as they had put it. Hadrian knew he really didn't have a choice in the matter as it had been either to work for them or be thrown in Scotland Yard to await his inevitable execution. He had accepted all their terms including wearing an enchanted eye patch that kept his 'harmful' abilities sealed. He had only recently began actually going to the bureau headquarters as he had been forced to keep a rather low profile until the whole incident blew over, as doubtful as that had seemed. He had been given folders about each and everyone of his 'coworkers' to help him transition to the new arrangements at a faster rate. Hadrian had recognized the women before him as Janvila Vigo. She had a rather... troubled past which made her 'folder' a bit more memorable than the rest. "I'm new" He explained, ignoring her less than welcoming words "It seems I've been assigned to work with you on your current mission". He didn't even bother with introducing himself since a whole year of being deprived of human interactions had made his social skills a bit rusty.


((Sorry for the wall of text))

 

[madfiddler]

Never one for prolonged interactions, be it friend or foe, Jan quickly dismissed any further interaction with the onlooker, quickly turning to walk away. A trait many of her peers find extremely vexing and often label as narcissism on Jan's part, albeit not completely false its a strong sense of commitment to her endeavors rather than self-importance that drives this piece of her. "What's in this thing" Jan wandered, her focus firmly fixed on the strange box Loghaine handed her. As said before it was a casing resembling something of a small trunk but possessed neither keyhole, hinge, nor lid; in short it was something of a mystery box and Jan wasn't very fond of mysteries. "How do I open you" she kept repeating over and over as if some mystical incantation that would perhaps reveal the box's secret when suddenly "Jan" hollered a distant voice. But Jan being Jan she ignored the cries, remaining enthralled to her thoughts, but the cries grew only louder and closer until--whap! "You cloudhead! I called you like ten times, why didn't you answer?" Before her was a rambunctious looking girl, Auburn haired with raven eyes. "L-Laura" exclaimed Jan at a loss for words. Laura Rossiere, the loquacious younger sister of Lobelle Rossiere and childhood friend to Jan.


"No, its Anita Giribaldi, the most beautiful sorceress in the world" replied Laura poking fun at her, something Jan didn't like. "I can do without the sarcasm, thanks." Laura could only laugh at her friend's delightful retort. "Its been a while wicked witch. How have you been? Er, hold on. Who's this?" pointing at a figure behind Jan.


turning to see who it was Laura was pointing at much to Jan's surprise it was the same person from the director's office.


"You! Why are..."


"He your lover?" interrupted Laura.


"Don't be stupid" yelped Jan, her face red with embarrassment "I don't even know who this weirdo is, or why he's following me."

 

[Cyan]

Her disinterested reaction to his words didn't deter him a bit as he turned to follow her. He had been actually quite glad that she hadn't questioned him further about his overall strange and sudden appearance like the others had. Hadrian had assumed that the bureau would have alerted the rest of the employees about his services but apparently he had presumed wrong. The moment he had stepped into the building, three armed sorcerers came at him with hexes that he had only barely managed to dodge. It wasn't until he had shouted his name and showed them his papers (that he had felt the need to bring, which now seems was a wise decision) did they let him pass. From then on, Hadrian had to tell every passing worker his name, identification, and practically his whole life story before they let him go with a look of recognition followed by slight apprehension at his less than 'happy' past. He had silently followed his 'partner' now for what seemed to be quite a few minutes until another girl came bounding the hall, shouting her name. Hadrian recognized the stranger as Laura Rosssiere, daughter of the exceptionally talented and well-known sorceress, Lobelle Rossiere. She had been folder number thirty eight as he recalled. He was sightly caught off guard when she assumed that he was Jan's lover. Though the sorceress was lovely (appearance wise, anyways) by her own account it was still a slightly embarrassing thought.


"I'm new; I've been assigned to help you on your current mission" He repeated. Hadrian hadn't minded being labeled as a weirdo. He had been called far worse.