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Post by Vikram on Oct 22, 2022 8:48:34 GMT -5
It was nearly midnight. Lunala hung the moon high in the sky as its full light shone down on the twisting city streets. A sparse few patrons still wandered the twisting corridors of mostly closed shops and stalls. Vikram sighed. He had been up all day now, speaking to vendors, encouraging urchins to talk to him. Even interrogating a parrot to see if he had heard the name. Benethuil. Nothing of substance appeared before him. He was only even here because of a letter he received. All it had said was He is here, with Zeinav City customs seal embossed on the bottom. It was the most concrete proof of his whereabouts since Vikram had last heard of him nearly a decade ago. The man was an enigma, A court wizard of the king before his retirement. Benethuil had been a trusted acquaintance at one point. Vikram had come to him seeking advice on all sorts of matters, trading only his experiences and stories from the desert. His expertise in the mystical arts was as broad and deep as the ocean. A question posed to him was like plumbing an extensive library on subjects one could only dream of understanding. Vikram frowned. What a waste of a mind. The palace loomed overhead, its sheer white reflecting the moon beautifully onto the cityscape. It was so peaceful here. Vikram closed his eyes and thought. Why would he be here? perhaps after an artifact, or a powerful ingredient? or maybe it's a trap. Trying to finish me off. Whatever it was, he would stop him. No goal could be worthwhile had it been devised by the snake he hunted. The Sukhbir could only hope that he could actually find the man in this maze. Exhaustion clung heavily to his consciousness as he continued the search.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Oct 23, 2022 4:50:53 GMT -5
He is here.
It was the first in a long time she heard about him again. During the tournament, she managed to slip into the castle in Sol City once more, only to find out Benethuil had been missing for quite a while. No one warned her. No one dared to say anything to anyone, thinking Benethuil to be more of a threat to himself than anything else. Of course, that wasn't true, and while everyone thought he would once turn up in a beach, half eaten by the sharks, or in a random ditch halfway accross the continent, Kamille held into the hope he might be alive.
So he was alive, it would seem. It was ironic and tragic at the same time she was the only one yearning for finding and helping him, since the last time they met, Benethuil put his hands around the neck of his own daughter.
Mischief cawed above, black wings swiftly blotting out the stars. Her contact told her to come, but she didn't know her way along that maze of streets, so she sent Edgar first. The man, big as he was, still walked swiftly and without a sound, guiding her through the maze of streets. A few yards behind her, another ominous looking figure followed, slightly smaller than Edgar: that was Allan, another one of hers. Poe was nowhere to be seen.
Her figure was hidden by her feathery cloak, making her look a tad bigger and more ominous than she actually was. Kamille was so focused on following and trying to remember the way that led up there, she didn't even realize there was another one following along the same direction.
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Post by Vikram on Oct 23, 2022 6:50:55 GMT -5
A bird's idle caw stirred him from the daze he was wandering in. The winding streets bled together in his mind, twists and turns of sandstone corridors stretching endlessly into the night. Glancing at a street post told him he was several blocks away from the main market area. Dark alleyways with the occasional sleeping urchin or drunkard stumbling back home flanked every hall of closed shops. The soft clinks of his metal adornments rustled in the still night air. Several of the mystical item vendors he had stopped by today had been quite hostile at the mention of his target. Doors slammed in his face. The "Mad Mage" one particularly indignant alchemist had called Benethuil, before calling Vikram a fool for bringing bad omens. Few allies had been found in his pursuit. Most who even knew of the former Court Wizard were more than happy to leave sleeping dogs lie. He stroked his beard pensively. To be perfectly honest, even a light assay of Benethuils abilities found Vikram woefully outmatched. The scimitar on his back had carried the Sukhbir through much, but it would not be enough to realize vengeance on the magician.
A suicide mission? Had that been what led the aged warrior here into the middle of the night, to face a foe with no chance of victory? No. His hand found the weathered iron medallion chained to his side. A pact, made to himself. His own honour prevented his retreat from this goal. Vikram stopped. His head turning sharply to the side. A trick of the light? "Who is there?" He stated loudly, casting his floating blue lantern into the dark alley. His imagination was getting the better of him. Sworn there was a man watching him from the alley but for a moment. It may be Zeinav, but surely there aren't people waiting around each corner. That way of thinking was a path to madness. Another bird caw from overhead brought him back to reality, calling his lantern back to him.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Oct 28, 2022 19:44:26 GMT -5
There may not be people around watching every night, but that night certainly was different.......
No one answered his call, but the cawing raven.
Nights used to be colder in Zeinav, but the presence of the Witch of Moonglade fended off the cold, her warm and pleasant magic irradiating from her. She thought she heard something down the street, but that must've been her imagination, or maybe a drunk. The streets were quiet, but from time to time a late night straggler would wander about, more dead than alive. Once she passed a beggar, curled up to his dog. And when she turned the street, she saw a barrel with a green apple painted on it, leaning against the wall of a house. From there, she counted the windows, approaching the third one. She raised a gloved hand, her claw softly rapping at the wooden frame. The Witch spoke softly, without knowing she was within someone else's earshot, the nightly breeze carrying her words to the far ends of the street, where Vikram could hear it.
"I'm here.... Alone, just as you asked... You said you had information of Benethuil's wereabouts..."
There was silence for a moment, and then a few latches were heard as someone would open the window to face her. It was her contact. An elderly man with a long, white beard and deep brown eyes.
"Reveal your face. Let me see your eyes."
After a moment of hesitation, the woman lowered her hood. "Beauty" was a word that felt inappropriate to describe her. Some traces of elven features were evident on the half-elf, but her eyes were strikingly unique: they sparkled with a thousand stars revolving inside, evidence of her mastery over the higher mysteries of the Space domain. They had been mysterious and beautiful before - now, they were unmatched.
The man seemed to think for a moment, as a minute of silence fell over the street.
"Do you want an advice, young lady? Forget about your father."
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Post by Vikram on Nov 1, 2022 2:36:37 GMT -5
His ears perked up, the many hairs laying inside on edge. It was faint, almost distant, but unmistakable. The echoes of the moonlit corridors carried a soft voice through the night, "I'm here.... Alone, just as you asked... You said you had information of Benethuil's wereabouts..."
The murmurs continued, a secret meeting in the night. Someone else was on the hunt, approaching as quietly as he could, his louder pieces of jewelry held against his silken azure robes. "your father..." The words hung heavy in the air. Benethuil had a daughter? Vikram could not remember if the man had mentioned one, he certainly had naught seen one in the rare visits he had made. Dangerous he thought, peeking around the corner to see a lone figure speaking to an old man, hushed tones in an attempt to be discreet. How fortunate for him, unfortunately Vikram felt a tug at his pantleg. A rattle of change in a cup pierced through the illusion of quietude. "Please, Sukhbir, your generosity is needed Sir." Bollocks, stealth was never Vikrams forte, but this was just unlucky he thought as the beggar scratched his dog. He had been so focused on the conversation, he hardly noticed stirring the pair from their sleep. "Shhhh, quiet. Here, take this" A golden solar dropped in the cup as he hushed the man. "Many thanks my friend! Many thanks!" "You're meant to be alone witch" echoed from where the conversation he was meant to be eavesdropping had been taking place. No point in being subtle now. He stepped from the shadows of the alley a few houses down from the figure, his silvery trinkets almost glittering in the moonlight. Was it slightly warmer? "You there, do you seek him as well? The Mad Magician, Benethuil?" He could feel an energy radiating from the corridor before him, the stench of magics piercing the air. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention as Vikram confronted the witch.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Nov 3, 2022 18:22:20 GMT -5
The corridors of Zeinav's streets were filled with secrets spoken in a hushed tone, during the hour of the wolf. Kamille was not used to be caught by surprise anymore - she never was, even when she didn't take the adequate precautions.
Her secrets were not the only ones being whispered that night...
As she heard the unknown man being urged by a beggar, she quickly turned, making the feathers of her cloak rustle softly. Her eyes squinted at the man that presented himself before them.
"I was... He's not with me," she answered, behind gritted teeth.
She had never seen this man in her life, and yet he spoke the name of her father. Worse even, put it in the same breath as the tittle of "Mad Magician", which was an insult on several levels. The timing couldn't be worse - not only she was supposed to be alone for this information, but the other person there seemed to recognize Benethuil's name.
It felt like an ambush. She angrily stared back to the newcomer. If there had been any doubt as to her power, with proximity it wouldn't be any room left for it: she was a mage, and a powerful one. The stars swirled in her eyes, and her presence was able to fend off the cold. Blessed by both Ginma and Ziev.
"Who are you? What is your purpose here?"
A raven landed on the roof of a building nearby, starting to cackle like an old hag.
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Post by Vikram on Nov 4, 2022 15:14:33 GMT -5
Vikram stepped to the center of the alley, footsteps clapped and echoed against the dark stony walls. He took a wide stance, standing tall and stiff. It was as if he were bracing against a wall of pressure emanating from the end of the corridor. The sickly aroma of the very weave of the world bending in the presence of wyrd forces both strange and mystical disgusted him. The quiet tintinnabulations his bands and baubles made in the night reassured the man as the strange bird cackled.
"I am Vikram, Sukhbir of the Sands, Seeker of abominations. I have come to make Benethuil the wizard repay his betrayals and rebalance his sins." His aged, tanned hand came to rest on the hilt of his scimitar, still resting in its silk wrappings on its side. Perhaps she could be an ally, another spurned by revenge. Somehow that optimism struck the man as improbable.
"And who are you, who seeks his wherabouts, Jetblack Witch. One so tainted with twisted magicks even your stare betrays the contamination." His stern face and stalwart posture stood firm in the face of annihilation. Were this to come to blows it would surely be his end, but his face betrayed no fear. It mattered not how his end came, only that it be faced without waver. A steely gaze watched carefully for any movement, any subtle twitching of her lips could betray a subtle spell attempting to destroy him. These types could ill be trusted, for the slightest mistake could find oneself in Solarias embrace once more.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Nov 5, 2022 10:57:20 GMT -5
The cosmos swirled in her eyes, holding witness to her gift from Ziev. And if her warm presence was to indicate something, it was to prove Ginma had gifted her as well.
Kamille felt this situation could be resolved quickly and easily, yet not. The Black Quills could make quick work of this stranger - but if she decided to reveal them, she would be even further from acquiring the information she wanted. She wanted to solve that without violence, if possible, but she doubted. The man was obviously biased against her.
"Go ahead. Draw your sword. See what your steel is worth."
Kamille knew the reputation of the Black Quills haven’t reached Zeinav yet, but if the man was well informed enough, he would recognize the black feather brooch pinned to her cloak.
"I didn’t make my way from Moonglade to squabble on a dark alley of Zeinav's streets. Leave me be. Walk away and we can pretend we never met."
The Witch didn’t expect such comment of her father to elicit a spike of anger on her. Usually, she was very slow to anger, but maybe she had been a bit on edge lately, given she's finally had wind of some information about her father, just within reach.....
....just for this man to hold her back. No. Her hand balled into a fist, the air growing heavier and hotter.
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Post by Vikram on Nov 9, 2022 10:52:14 GMT -5
The aura the woman gave off was oppressive, as if the very forces of nature itself were warding her from further antagonism. Vikram would compare it to staring down a sandstorm, an inevitable conflict impossible to surmount. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow. The tension in the air was palpable, both parties poised to retaliate the second the other made a move. Unfortunately, he found himself at the disadvantage. Even if he were to shift into an animal form that could close the distance, the witch at the other end of the alley had ample opportunity to react at range.
Seconds passed, his grip on the gilden hilt tightening. The womans feathery cloak undulating in a soft breeze, a small, stylized brooch pinned to its cloth. Whatever meaning it held was lost on the old man, ill-informed of whatever clubs and cabals the kids were wrapping themselves in these days. Was it worth dying here, in a back-alley market, surrounded by the uncaring stonework's illuminated only by Lunula's grace? The woman behind the witch seemed nonplussed by the whole situation, almost bored by it. Odd, considering how much magical force the jet-black witch was generating nigh directly next to the stores entrance. The beggar had since left, his mutt roused from slumber by Vikram shouting in the street.
Is it all meaningless then? Nobody here to be protected but himself. No purpose other than revenge set in motion a decade or so ago. Vikram relaxed his grip on the scimitar and sighed audibly. Both hands slowly raised to the air, a shrug and a slight smile signaling his surrender.
"Forgive my impertinence, I simply wish to find my old aquaintance. You had mentioned his name witch, and that alone is the best lead I've had all night. Perhaps we could come to an arrangement? Assuming you aren't more inclined to use your blasphemous powers on an old man with a sword." His intentionally relaxed attitude and calm demeanor was juxtaposed by his almost antagonistic barbs laced within his appeal. Magicians were best kept off balance and on guard, lest their self-conceit take hold and lash out at those deemed below them.
"Allow us to begin anew, on better footing"
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Nov 11, 2022 4:12:14 GMT -5
Cobbalt eyes still glistened under the moonlight, carrying a thousand stars within, a frown upon them. The woman didn't seem to budge from her suspicion, even more so with the contempt his words carried. But something along the way caught her attention.
"Old acquaintance?"
Even the woman behind her perked up with interest. She, at least, knew where Kamille stood on this charade - at least in part. The night grew short, and as the breeze slithered along the narrow corridors between buildings, she felt it as the sand escaping to the other side of the hourglass.
Time is of the essence.
"What are your business with Benethuil?"
Her steps echoed as she drew closer. A foolish move if she intended to fight him, as she looked ready to do just a moment ago. Even if the feeling of dread has subsided slightly for now, she wouldn't take her eyes off of him, clearly sizing him up as she got close enough to tug at his clothes
"And why would you be around here, at this late hour of the wolf?"
Even when engulfed in her own mana, even when the air around her still felt thick with reality-bending will, there was no denying the half-elf was a beauty. She poked and tugged at his clothes, and should he allow her, she would gently slide her hands to his hand, bringing it up to her eyes with his palm up - clearly to make some kind of palm reading, tracing the lines and callouses of his bigger, rougher hand. Despite her initial lack of hesitation in picking up a fight with him, her touch was warm and gentle, even if her brow was still furrowed.
The raven that cackled before took flight and landed on her shoulder. He seemed like a smart bird, because whatever she was trying to see on his palm - should he allow it - he came to try and see it too.
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Post by Vikram on Nov 12, 2022 16:59:11 GMT -5
She approached, unnerving, their gaze matched attempting to divine any betrayals of this tenuous trust. His eyes shifted from her cerulean regard to the bird, an intelligence apparent in its careful actions and observations. Gods, please don't be another magician in disguise... Paranoia of illusions came part and parcel with interactions with magicians and charlatans. The way she picked at his clothes and grabbed at his hands reminded him of Madame Mebd. Silly attempts by snake oil peddlers to divine the future or see beyond by reading the recipients surface desires. "Attempting to read my fate magician? Your parlour tricks won't see purchase on my spirit by spectacle alone." His stern look as she looked over his hand melted into simple disregard and slight discomfort as he relaxed and allowed her to review his calloused palms. "He was a confidant once, an ear in troubling times. I found great comfort in his knowledge and experiences. All a trick, abusing my faith in his character, he whispered dark and foul magics to my mind. Forgiveness to him now, I'm afraid, is unattainable."It was a regrettable memory, what little of which clung to the recesses of his mind still. His memory of the time was blurry at best, unfortunate, for he was hunting a man whose crimes were shrouded by madness and magic. The free hand he had reached slowly into his robes, pulling out the letter he had received. "I must offer my apologies to intruding upon your dealings here."He looked past the witch to the woman in the doorway, offering an apologetic nod in her direction. "But this is a matter of utmost importance. I received this letter, from an unknown sender, through an undetected delivery method. It was laid atop my person when I had awoken one morning. I fear if he is active once again, the consequences of inaction may be dire."The seriousness of his gaze fell on hers once more, a calm hard intonation as he spoke. "Surely even a witch as yourself can see the public is in danger with such a man running loose, that is, if you care for the public at all."
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Nov 15, 2022 10:54:35 GMT -5
It was useful for people to take her up for a charlatan, since it meant her theatrics were working. She could learn more about the man should she want to use the Reveal Truth spell, but she had grown wary of it - there were some things, she was starting to understand, that were better off left alone.
But still, she believed a person's hand said a lot about them. Hers were delicate, with long fingers, clean nails and perfect skin: the hands of someone who never held a weapon in life, only books and quills. Which was totally different from his, the rough hands of a warrior, one who's probably very skilled at handling the sword he's got at his waist. She shouldn’t underestimate this man's skills: few warriors reached a good age without being good at what they did. Specially by hating magic and magic users to that degree....
Luckly for him - and her - she was usually remarkably slow to anger, and his insults just slided over her head. But Kamille did pick on his reference to her father.
But there was something bubbling beneath the surface, and she directed it to the woman that called her up to the place, still watching the scene unfold by her window. With unusually hard steps, she foolishly gave her back to Vikram, walking up to her again. The woman must have felt something or seen her face, because she closed the window with a loud clang on her face. For a moment, the Witch pounded on the window loudly.
"Is this some kind of ambush?! What was your intention in arranging this? Answer me!"
"Go away! There is no hope for you!"
Kamille felt betrayed, as if that was a set up. She wouldn’t find an enemy of Benethuil out there in the open, unless someone had prepared the meeting beforehand. Once again, she turned to Vikram, trying to soften her features for a moment.
"No one is beyond redemption, I believe. And I seek his. Who sent you? Who are you working for?"
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Post by Vikram on Nov 18, 2022 11:53:15 GMT -5
To insinuate that another man held his leash was an insult untowards itself. To risk one's life on another's whim is a young man's game, Vikram was in this mess purely on his own volition. The stern look he shot her hopefully conveyed his distaste for this whole situation. Her gaze well framed by jet-black locks curled softly and billowing in the wind. Attraction was also a young man's game. Perhaps he should have taken the opportunity to strike her down while he had the chance. Turning your back on an enemy was foolish, but perhaps calculated. He was no coward, unwilling to obviate a threat on unfair grounds. No sense of honor, he would let the magicians hold that bag of foolish tricks to themselves.
"It would seem we would both be tied to someone's leash on this night, led on a wild and fruitless chase. Perhaps a purposeful distraction? Who would benefit to have two hunting dogs on the chase in some alley in the city, certainly not this apothecary who has shut you out."
Now with a moment to contemplate, Vikram did find the whole situation quite odd. He stroked his beard contemplatively, what is the purpose of dragging two people out here. Was it all a distraction to throw them off another scent entirely? Perplexed, and distracted, he idly mentions.
"Redemption is earned, as well as forgiveness. The sins this man must answer for are surely innumerable. The question becomes, who are you to seek redemption for a madman?"
Guesses are all he could muster. Apprentice, rival gone rogue, cult member. Though it was odd that she would emanate such power only to go seeking another's on a whim. Did she plan on using Benethuil as a weapon? A prisoner? He supposed some questions were better left unanswered. But if he were to come to an agreement with some magician on the street, it would be best to be aware of the motives involved.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Nov 19, 2022 13:06:53 GMT -5
Kamille wasn't usually the suspicious kind, the one to see conspiracies everywhere, but it was tugging at the back of her mind nonetheless. The man certainly had some issues with Benethuil to want to seek him too, so it would seem inevitable that their fates would collide eventually. Her first assumption was that someone was trying to set one against the other, given Vikram looked eager to insult and poke at her for the simple fact he realized she was a mage. Kamille looked at Vikram with squinted eyes. She could recognize a wilful man, and the years upon his shoulder only added to his experience. It wouldn't be the last time they met over the same prize should they both keep on the same path. It would be better to handle it now than allow it to escalate.
The Witch took a few steps closer once again, without a hint of betrayal in her movements, only so she could watch him closely as she talked. How much should she disclose? She knew nothing of that man that claimed to have been betrayed by the old mage.
"I am... Someone who cares deeply about him. As much was we would hope to have control over our fates, some things are just not under our control."
She could be insinuating having feelings towards the mage, leaving it open to his interpretation. It certainly wasn't wrong - but there had been one word, in the start of the whole scene, who could explain it all easily.
Father.
The same way one was not responsible for the whims of ones heart, no one chose who to be the son or daughter of. Her features were much softer now, as she clearly tried to parley.
"I imagine you might have enemies who wished you gone. Could you imagine someone who could lead you up to a trap?"
She shot a look back to the woman, now hidden behind her window, before turning back to stare at the man, speaking in a more subdued tone.
"Is Benethuil the reason of your hatred for magic? What are his debt to you?"
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Post by Vikram on Nov 22, 2022 17:55:54 GMT -5
Deep feelings, like familial? He thought the ancient woman was speaking facetiously when she mentioned Father, or perhaps with riddles inherent in most magically minded folk. Her words spoke to genuine concern for the man, jarring, it reminded him of the actual affection he himself had had for the old magician. Her feathers rustled in the slight breeze as she sashayed about the alley, he couldn't help but relax his own demeanor. It would be a long night if he assumed violence in each interaction with the woman.
"It comes to mind of one particular enemy. Benethuil handed me over to it after he was finished with my betrayal, a capstone of deceit and malice. The Efreeti Firrsst shaf firrh flinnh shaf feirr int tessdiirr detrriaherr shaf nnin, Flinnh for short. It was Flinnh who was the cause of my early retirement, kept me in a cave for months as his entertainment. I was there for months, but I lost a decade of my life recovering from his betrayal."
His face remained stern, but his eyes grew tearful, holding back at the sadness and anger he felt towards the mad magician. The regret. It was bringing back bad memories.
"His whispers of madness, they forced my hand. I had found out afterwards that in my rage, I had slain allies, friends, family. I was not myself, He altered my perceptions to see enemies where there were none. No man deserves forgiveness for taking that away. Family or not."
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