Mage Guilds; Quest for the Demon Blade.

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Dahrinn, Aug 28, 2015.

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  1. Mage Guilds:
    Quest for the Demon Blade

    You'd probably like to know how this whole war started... so I'll give you a brief summary.
    Long ago, two friends became Mages. They both had their reasons... their goals... and their opinions. Despite their differences, they worked together, and became vastly powerful for it. Together, they roamed the land, going on adventures, completing deadly trials,and slaying ferocious beasts. They became famous, and world renowned,they were heroes, looked up to by all manner of people, peasants, knights, other magic users... there wasn't a person who didn't know their names.

    One day, that changed, there was a disagreement or a fight... nobody really knows over what... and they split up.They trekked miles away from each other, created massive castles... they went in and locked their doors.

    Ten years passed, and today... they both open their doors, and send messages all across the land. They are both raising an army of fellow magic users in order to claim an extremely powerful artifact for themselves... the Demon Blade... a sword said to channel magic better than any wand or staff could even hope to.

    To put it in summary... these two guys hate each other, and nobody knows why... help one of them get the Demon Sword, and you get a great reward.

    And so it falls to the two factions, the chaotic Silver Owl Covenant, and the orderly Morningstar.

    Silver Owl Intro:

    On the peak of a tall, steep mountain, lies the famous White Spire Castle.

    Held together by the strong magic of the Archmage Martin, the Ivory Spark... it towers over the land, and one can see for miles and miles away.

    A strong, cold wind dashes through the marble buildings, the sun shines brightly, and clouds race through the sky, both from above and from below.

    The new recruits awaken in the entrance building. (The tower on the far left of the picture.) Sunlight from the windows all around the tower bring light to the room, and stone rafters weave along the top of the building. The large doors with intricate carvings of owls open silently, only making a large thud when opened all the way.

    A crystal ball in the center of the room started to react. It went from a quarts white, to.a glowing purple The voice of a young man eminated from it.

    "Um... Hello! If you're hearing this it means I, Martin, yes... I am not an old, bent, ancient thing... Well, if you're hearing this, It means I am not with you at the moment. Most likely, I'm asleep in the center building... So just head across the bridge. Inside the main building there will be me. Also uh... Don't piss off the Griffin. When going across the bridge... He's basically a giant Meowl...
    uh... try to look as little like a rodent as possible."

    Far across the bridge, the huge doors slowly opened.

    Meanwhile, shadows moved with speeds and agility, across the rafters. They were high up, where light did not shine in, and feathers slowly drifted to the ground.
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  2. Mornignstar Intro:

    Backed by a high cliff and faced with an impenetrable wall of wind, Morninstar Keep waits for those worthy of joining the prestigious league housed within.

    Upon the right side of the arch marking the path lies a granite tile, etched with these words:

    "Morningstar prides itself on the prestige and excellence of it's members, both instructor and apprentice, and holds incredibly high standards for both. Any who should wish to enter the guild, place your right hand upon this tablet, and your examination will begin."

    Meanwhile, inside the castle, there are those who have already entered into the service of Lord Valentail Morningstar, many of whom can rightly boast as being of the strongest make in the entirety of wizardom. These men and women continue to steadfastly forge ahead in their quest, though, what they goal they labor toward attaining, the world can only guess.

  3. "...Place your right hand on this tablet and your examination shall begin," a young man's voice spoke slowly and clearly as he peered down at the worn tablet. Davos raised an eyebrow, hesitant in touching the weathered stone. He stood back up, staring up to the skies as a cool breeze bowled over the grass and impacted with him. High above, a black shape twirled through the sky, showing no difficulty in the wild gusts of wind that marked a waning spring. He wasn't quite sure if he should activate the stone or not. Hell, this was probably the only chance he would get to drop out and just leave.

    It had taken weeks for Headmaester Wilkins to persuade him into travelling to this so called 'college'. Such things weren't something he could decide on a whim. To be honest, he would much rather be back at home. The cliffs here were steep and threatening, while the seaside castle was more calm and inviting. The keep itself had to be at least four or five times the size of home.

    Davos sighed and raised his hands to his mouth, sticking his finger in and blowing hard. A shrill sound emanated and the black shape flying above turned on a dime, headed straight for him. A rather large black bird dropped and landed on his outstretched arm, stopping itself. Davos smiled and reached his other hand to Oberyn, scratching its chin.
    #3 Donk, Aug 29, 2015
    Last edited: Aug 29, 2015
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  4. Arlin was rather astounded by his surroundings, the stalwart buildings around him left him in awe before his attention was brought towards the strange tablet, his curiosity-driven eyes moving quickly to glance across it, now aware this was his key into the guild. The other boy seemed to be wearing a far more appropriate outfit to him, his own attire was little more than casual clothing in the eyes of the people around him, he however had deemed them as his best clothing, that linen attire with silken overcoat was the best they could get, and even then there were a few spells in place to make it look good.

    He was prepared to simply place his hand on the tablet before realising this could all be some sort of elaborate ruse, having been reminded by his mother several times to constantly check for magical properties in potentially harmful objects. With a glimmer of blue light across the palm of his hand, he gave the tablet a swift scan, identifying a lack of harmful effects before placing the same hand onto the dusty tablet. Although not magical, he felt as if he had gained a strange sort of power simply through doing this deed, perhaps a large step in his life.

    However, this was not something his attention held on to for long once he heard a whistle, the boy raising a brow before looking up, watching as a black bird descended upon the other applicant's arm, the flapping of wings followed by a loud screeching as the boy's shadow seemed to contort, a rather large black cat emerging from within, surging out at the boy's bird with flailing claws as Arlin let out a startled, yet concerned, shriek.

    "Infelixia! Down!" the boy exclaimed as he reached over to grip the lion-sized housecat by the shoulders, rapidly pulling them back and away from the feline's target, hoping it didn't manage to do any harm with those loose claws.
    "I've told you before! No hiding in my shadow!" he scolded, the black feline turning to him and letting out a stubborn 'meowl' as it looked at the other applicant and more importantly, his bird, grimacing at the two.
    "Go home to mother Infelixia, don't cause any more bother..." he muttered, the cat slinking back into his shadow as the darkness around them began to ripple as if it were liquid before passing off into the distance.
    "I'm so sorry..." he said, bowing to the other applicant apologetically and remaining in that position until he was forgiven.
    • Nice execution! Nice execution! x 1
  5. The shrill cry of a feline interrupted Davos and his dear avian compatriot and he literally leaped backwards, upsetting the raven and eliciting a groan of pain as he collided with the stone archway. Either his daydreaming had evolved to a new level or the newcomer was a master stealth artist. Oberyn cawed once as he flapped his wings hard, equally as surprised. As apologies were said and the massive cat restrained, Davos' rapidly beating heart began to calm down.

    Davos looked over the other man, still quite surprised. Now he definitely knew he was overdressed. The fine cloth robes were a bit large for him, meant for his Maester. It had been one of the few gifts he had received on departure from his home, but now it seemed like a small waste. He stared intently as the large cat oozed into the shadows of other man's coat, melding with it. As 'Infelixia' retreated, he raised a hand back up to Oberyn who had once again settled on his shoulder. "Ah... sorry if I didn't see you. I must've really been out of it. I shouldn't have called for him." Davos' hand fell back to his other shoulder as he scratched it nervously.

    "Your ah... cat? Its erm... cute?" Davos awkwardly said, looking around warily. "It won't come out again, will it? I'm fairly certain it wanted to eat Oberyn, here. That wouldn't be good for either of us. Well, it might be good for the cat. Lion. Tiger... Bear?" Davos outstretched a hand to shake the other man's. "My name is Davos. You're also joining this... guild? College?" He gestured around to the keep off in the distance. Oberyn flapped its wings, staring intently at the other young man. Its obsidian eyes blinked once or twice, showing off a keen intelligence, before it took off, sailing into the sky.
    • Nice execution! Nice execution! x 1
  6. [​IMG]

    In the late morning with the sun sitting lazily in the sky, Seli Darvo slowly stumbled her way into her laboratory. It was a fairly large room at 30 feet wide and 15 long, and with the morning sun pouring in from the Eastern facing windows it was currently well lit. The lab was cluttered and messy with pieces of parchment, dried plant life, and large leather bound books strewn every which way. Tall candles sat on every surface, with dried wax stuck to their sides and a black bit of wick sticking out of the top. Various glass flasks, vials, and other such containers sat in various shelves all stacked in rows. A small fireplace sat in one corner, a kettle and two small cauldrons hanging over it.

    Seli made her way over to the large wooden desk sat up against one of the windows and sat down with a heavy thud. Rubbing her forehead she grumbled as she remembered she had not set yet filled the kettle and stoked the fire. Slowly pulling herself out of her seat, she shambled over to the fireplace. Seli then grabbed the kettle and filled it from a nearby barrel and then again, hung it over the fireplace. Grumpily, she tossed several logs into the brick pit. Out from one of her pouches she pulled a small glass vial filled with a translucent green liquid. Popping the top she poured it onto the logs and on contact, the liquid erupted into flames creating a nice warm fire. Seli then hobbled back to her desk and began pouring over the papers.

    After a few minutes, now with a cup of coffee in her hand she remembered something. "Oh fuck me. They finally decided to plop an apprentice on me, and that little shit is supposed to be here today." She took a drink from her mug. "Well, if he can't find me, then I guess I won't have to teach him. She smirked before going back to work.​
  7. In a dimly lighted room on the second floor of the main building, Martin was in an uncomfortable sleep. He was sitting in a creeky wooden chair with a makeshift cushion fashioned from a spare robe. All around him were scrolls and books, most of them were the hastily written revelations of madmen, a few others were simple alchemy books, but those were rarely touched... a few were works that Martin himself was making, one of which was a journal titled: The Ivory Spark, A Self Told Chronicle. Nailed to the walls in an orderly fashion were myriad sketches of strange creatures, all of them with an owl theme... One of them was identical to the meowl, a creation that had been set loose across the land, and had successfully integrated into the ecosystem. He was quite proud of that.

    Coincidentally, a wild Meowl was walking in through an open window, and had immediately began to show it's feline half.

    It purposefully knocked a beaker full of ink off it's shelf and onto the floor, where it crashed loudly. Martin was now half awake, shooing out the creature and closing the window.

    It would still take a few minutes for him to fully come to his senses and remember that he was supposed to be doing something outside of his normal schedule... Ten years of isolation can do that to a person.

    With a series of hand gestures, the broken sharks of glass floated into the air and were arranged into their original shape. The cracks turned red hot for a moment, and sealed themselves before being placed back on the table. The ink then floated off the floor and returned to the beaker.

    Martin slowly left the room and started to descend the stairs towards the first floor.
  8. "Finally," Gaeriel Manetheril murmured as her white charger, Windwalker, crested the top of the hill, providing them both with a clear view of the Morningstar Guild on its cliff. She gently kicked her steed in the flanks, urging him toward the granite arch that marked the beginning of the path up to the arcane university.

    To say that the young, platinum-blonde woman was both honored and apprehensive was an understatement. She was the heir to a long line of loyal knights and groomed from an early age in the art of warfare. It was only in the last few years that her aptitude for magic became apparent and the arcane arts added to her education. She seemed to have a knack for it, particularly aeromancy, and the offer to join the Morningstar Guild was one her instructors encouraged her to accept.

    As she neared the arch, she saw a stone tablet and heard its words. "...Place your right hand on this tablet and your examination shall begin." Already, she saw two other prospective mages chatting before it, with their familiars in view. They were two men, both of nearly an age with her.

    She brought Windwalker to circle around them. "Greetings," she declared in a bold tone. Clad in her breastplate and gauntlets, with a sword belted at her hip, and her waist-length platinum-blonde hair trailing in the gentle breeze, she cut a striking figure. She nodded to the two young men in turn. "I am Gaeriel Manetheril, mage-prospect to the Morningstar Guild. I assume you two are here on the same errand?"

    Unnoticed by the three or their familiars, a raven flew overhead, watching and hearing everything.


    From within the confines of the Guild itself, within one of the lonelier towers, a tall, broad-shouldered, and bearded man in his prime listened to words that only he could hear. He was a dapper, severe-appearing man with a stony face, nearly-trimmed beard, and an air of quiet dignity about him. He was clad in mages' robes, though his roughened hands and the occasional scar on them suggested he was more accustomed to violence than the books and lore of the typical wizard.

    Landazar the Legion Lord looked out of the tower's window, still hearing words only he was privy to. His raven was communing with him. It was one of many creatures he had summoned to keep tabs on the prospective mages arriving today.

    They were all so young. If any had seen battle, he'd eat his boots. The three that this particular scout was spying on suggested as much. Arlin, a witch; Davos Rythem, a hemomancer; and Gaeriel Manetheril, a young knight and aeromancer. He had read the dossiers on all the applicants weeks ago, but he preferred to see them with his own eyes. Or, at least, his eyes by proxy.

    The headmaster of the Guild, Valentail "the Bastion" Morningstar, had personally asked him to teach at his school. For decades, Landazar made a name for himself as a war-mage and tactician both domestically and abroad. Landazar had been away for several years fighting on foreign soil when the Bastion called him home. While a skillful warrior and soldier, Landazar was also a known instructor, having trained several mages to fruition on the field of battle. There were few enough instructors with any knowledge of war magic. That Landazar was one with over twenty years of firsthand combat experience made Valentail's decision to recruit him an excellent one.

    Landazar turned away from the window, saying into the air, "Continue to follow them. Once they touch the tablet, return. Another of my scouts will pick up from there."
  9. "AAAH!" Apellio screamed, jolting up from his magic-induced sleep, waking from that nightmarish slumber into this unfamiliar room, looking over at the magical orb in the middle. The warlock's hair was a pearly white at this point, worried about his surroundings and still getting over his earlier nightmare before hearing the movements in the rafters, looking up to see his familiar slithering through the shadows formed by the strange owl creatures, scaring the beaked...things out of their nests. The warlock simply sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger to right himself, letting out a long exhale through his nose before setting his arms to his side, looking around him to the others in the room.

    The being stood there, cloak draped across his back, white as the marbled walls of the room within that ivory tower, his eyes beginning to wander across the walls and to the other people wondering if they were as confused as he was, but rather than ask them he simply stood there in his robes, those layers of purple and white cloth and leather adorning his fancy tunic, leather leggings hugging those feminine thighs of his, that dark purple stained trousers with white swirling trimmings similar to silver filigree as if strands of his own hair were threaded into the expertly tanned hide.

    His attention was soon brought to the orb as a voice seemed to suddenly emanate from within, Apellio's fearful nature making him focus and listen to every little word. He was asleep? How gratuitous of the man calling out to these gifted beings to aid him in a life threatening task, one would expect him to actually turn up! His hair along with the white colours upon his clothing began to take a pale amber colouration as he looked at the others, shrugging before making his way over to the bridge, soon noticing the large semi-avian creature guarding it and snorting lightly at it's 'majesty'.

    He hid his laughter behind a smile, hair shifting to a yellow as he moved over to the bridge, wondering whether or not he should try to interact it, however he's quite aware Timore would likely attempt to debunk his attempts, making him angry or cruel resulting in a negative first impression here, though that was likely unavoidable regardless. He wasn't looking forwards to interacting with whoever owned this place, the warlock barely knowing much about this guild other than the fact it accepted people of his magical expertise. It benefited him, that's all he needed to know.
  10. While Landazar's summoned scouts continued their surveillance of the Morningstar Guild applicants, the war mage himself went in search of the headmaster. Valentail Morningstar had a reputation to his name and, in some ways, he and Landazar were polar opposites. While the Bastion could create the ultimate defense, the Legion Lord could call upon the ultimate army. Landazar idly wondered which of them would win out if they were to ever put to the test an unstoppable force against an immovable object.

    Landazar navigated the intimidating halls of the guild castle with ease. Out of habit, the first thing the veteran war mage did when he arrived was acclimate himself to his new base camp. In the field, simply familiarizing himself with the terrain helped him survive that much longer against insurmountable odds. Even in peacetime, he kept up the practice. Landazar probably knew the castle better than anyone, save for the Bastion himself.

    He eventually arrived at Valentail Morningstar's quarters. Unsurprisingly, the doors opened to admit him, as if the Bastion were awaiting his arrival.

    In Landazar's brief interactions with the guildmaster, the war mage found himself positively inclined toward his new employer. The Bastion had a potent reputation and a stern demeanor, one that befit the leader of a preeminent academy of the arcane arts. In many respects, they were quite alike. Landazar felt he could work with a commander such as this.

    Now that the applicants were arriving, however, a question needed to be asked.

    Why open the gates to the guild now?

    "Bastion," Landazar called out into the room. "We must talk."
  11. The young wizard looked up at the other, sighing in relief that they didn't seem particularly put off by the fact a giant cat almost ate his avian companion. "Heh...cute...sure." he said, standing up straight again and dusting off his leggings, simultaneously wiping his hands on them before shaking the other's hand.
    "Mine's Arlin, no to that coming back and yes to joining the college. I hope to actually be of some use..." he said with a sigh, breaking the shake a little prematurely before looking into the series of arches before them.
    "I doubt I'll be nearly as useful as most of the people h-" he said, cut off slightly as he heard someone approaching.

    Another person? Oh jeez, two was just about the maximum Arlin's social skills could handle and even then it was a struggle, but he took a deep breath and turned with a smile to face the oncoming challenge.
    "H-hello!" he replied to their formal 'greetings' with a twiddle of his fingers, face going slightly red at the overwhelming embarrassment towards his reaction. So stupid, he was clearly out of his league here, maybe he should run. Running was- wait, what was she saying? Gaurable Maythirul? Was that her name? He simply decided to give up on talking, it clearly wasn't his style, perhaps he could pretend he was mute. Wait, no, he already said hello to her...eugh, why does he never plan out conversations?

    "Yes! I too am a mage prospect!" he said, rather excited to get a few words out before that familiarly eerie silence fell upon them, however his attempt at filling said silence was very much worse for him than standing there awkwardly. Too much enthusiasm, now she'll think he's a weirdo! Nice going, trying to not let on he's got the blood of a witch running through him in a strictly no-witch zone.
    "I-I meant, um, I'll be hopefully going here too for the thing they asked for mages to do. Yup." he added, his mind screaming for him to just stop before he ends up burying himself in this hole he's dug, though that would probably shut him up at least.
  12. Gaeriel smiled winsomely at Arlin's awkwardness and dismounted. She gave Windwalker a few soothing strokes along his nose before she guided her charger toward the tablet. "A pleasure to meet you, Arlin," Gaeriel said. She smirked. "Relax. I don't bite. Though, honestly, coming here is probably a little nerve-wracking." She glanced past the arches to the spires of the castle ahead. She mused, "I've heard tales of this place since I was a girl. I wonder if any of us are ready for what lies within?"

    Then she turned to Arlin and the other young mage. "I believe I overheard your name was Davos, is that right? Perhaps we can take this journey together. Strength in numbers, after all. Who knows what challenges this tablet has in store for us."

    She rested her hand above the tablet, hesitating for a moment.
  13. Davos' gaze turned to the sky while his new acquaintance spoke. He was still paying attention, of course, but something else had caught his, no, Oberyn's eye far above.

    Another raven? No. Oberyn's sense could tell just by instinct that the other bird was no normal creature. The real raven kept its distance from the magical construct, wary of the imitation. A bead of sweat rolled down Davos' neck as he shared the caution. The raven and he shared a connection through blood. While not a complete connection, emotions and needs spilled over the border between he and Oberyn. The raven had intelligence, but was no human. Its transferal of information was limited to sights, smells, sounds, even memories. It was equally as confusing for Davos to transfer his own thoughts to the bird. Normal speaking didn't work, so their bond was rough around the edges most of the time. Danger. Stay Away. Caution.

    Arlin's, yes Davos was actually listening, surprise alerted the young man to the presence of yet another person. This one happened to be clad in gilded steel, wearing a sword at her waist. He raised an eyebrow, not expecting to see a swordswoman. Hell, she even had a healthy looking warhorse. She was obviously some high ranking knight or other. Her introduction confused Davos quite a bit. A warrior, yet a magician as well? While Davos practiced his own ability with a weapon, he usually focused on wizardry if he had a choice. Besides, Davos was no fighter. He watched as Arlin showed off his nervousness and anxiety, unable to keep a poker face. Davos himself could feel for him, but he usually hid his fears behind a mask of perpetual tiredness. The mask had a bit of truth to it, though. He had been walking for a week after all.

    "Aye, my name is Davos. What ah... group did you belong to? You're obviously not a normal soldier." He shrugged, keeping a wary eye on on the horse. Horses and he did not go well together. He watched as she hesitated to touch the tablet, much like he had.

    A bandaged hand reached out and pressed against the stone for a few moments as he stooped beside her. "No apparent magical traps or markings. Besides," he said, jerking a thumb over his back. "Arlin over there already acted as a guinea pig for us."
    #13 Donk, Sep 2, 2015
    Last edited: Sep 2, 2015
  14. A pair of pale eyes slowly fluttered open, quickly overtaken in confusion. Where was she? Was she dreaming? It was so bright here.. and it was so large, massive, even compared to her home. And it was clean. She was surrounded by bright marble and ivory structures. It certainly wasn't where she had remembered laying her head down the night prior. There were beautiful owl-like creatures delicately sleeping in their nests all around. There was a soft breath that came from her lips as she pushed herself up from the cold stone. Without a moment of hesitation, she quickly retrieved her precious hat which lay on the floor. It was a bit older in appearance, especially when accompanied by the girl's seemingly young complexion. A muffled patting sound and a few puffs of dust came from it as it was roughly brushed off by a glove-clad hand, then placed in its usual spot on top of dark hair which fell down the small figure's back in soft waves. A single gloved hand was outstretched, and with a small gesture, a staff, appropriate for someone who stood only four feet and eleven inchesfrom the ground, appeared in it.

    "Not a dream, no.." a mumbled voice finally reassured itself, seeing the others around her who seemed to find themselves in just the same scenario as herself. A crystal ball lay in the center of the structure she had now found herself in, and it quickly and fully ensnared her attention. It was a beautiful addition to an already elegant structure; a bright, clear crystal sphere that seemed as though the very clouds themselves danced around inside of it. Zidja had a hard time resisting the temptation to explore or examine something that caught her interest. There was a brief glance back at the others, still sleeping or slowly waking up, before she continued forwards to examine the sphere that caused her so much curiosity. It was only a few steps forwards before something startled her and quickly redirected her attention, a sound that caused her to jump slightly and quickly turn in the direction of the source.

    It was a loud shout, and it had come from a male, one of the people who had been asleep on the floor. He immediately brought himself to his feet with his sudden awakened state. The peaceful owl creatures that had seemed to emanate peace as they slept in their little nests were also stirred by the sudden cacophony that broke through the silence like glass shattering during the night. Blueish grey orbs quickly focused on him, softly shadowed by thin eyebrows contorted with confusion. A note to self toremain cautious would definitely be taken, but she concluded to herself that the man was simply not fond of waking up, or possibly even being asleep. It seemed it was either that or he was perhaps a complete lunatic, whichever way was irrelevant. Although for a lunatic, he dressed rather well. Well enough to make her consider what she had on.

    She was clad in what mostly consisted of dark clothing, blacks or a dark brown leather color with a only a few off-white accents and an off-white fabric covering the chest part of her long, or rather.. long for her, dress. With it she wore thin leather boots and matching gloves, a deep brown, almost halfling sized cloak hung from her shoulders wrapped up the outfit with the help of her pointed hat which took the place of her hood that always remained down because of it. It waa actually more useful that way. After all, where would Vladmiir sleep if not for the comfort of the warm bed the empty hood made? A soft exhale through her nose which caused it to lightly scrunch up signified that she was derailing that train of thought. Besides, had she known she was going to be.. 'invited for breakfast', she may have dressed a little better.

    The girl perked up and turned her attention to the earlier source of her curiosity, the crystal ball, when a voice began to emanate from within it, now swirling with hues of purple as the voice spoke. A small head also peeked out from her hood in interest. It was the head of what looked like a dragon who came in contact with a powerful shrink spell, the very loose definition of a pseudodragon. The girl pinched the bridge of her nose, a little irritated with herself that she couldn't figure out where she was sooner. "Of course.." she mumbled into her hand as her hood stirred a little, the small creature returning to a comfortable slumber. The nameless conundrum that had caused such a ruckus simply shrugged his shoulders and walked off in the direction this, 'Martin' character had instructed. Something was different about him though.. his hair. What was once a bright platinum was now a pale amber color.. his hair changes colors? A cacophonous chameleon.. perhaps she could find more than she thought in this institute. With that thought, she was off, trailing not far behind the male. An audible click accompanied every other step as the staff she used as a walking stick hit the marbled floor.
    #14 Zella, Sep 2, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 2, 2015
  15. It took a rather hefty amount of effort on the warlock's part to refrain from bothering the bird, simply bowing in respect before making his way over the bridge, assuming it was guarding it from something other than him. He was presumably correct in his assumption as he stepped on with no sort of conflict with the bird, his shadow of a familiar now bored of the creatures, moving down and hopping from shadow to shadow before slipping into Apellio's seeming to attach to his behind as some sort of inky black tail.
    "Dumbass" he muttered, feeling it join to him a split second before his shadow parted from the griffon's into the light of day, the bridge had arches, sure, but they made little more than thin strips, tightropes the nightmare could barely balance upon.

    Two glowing green eyes emerged from the dripping tail, though, the oil never seeming to part from the body, only cycling around, dripping down to the base before simply swirling back onto the top, only to drip down once again, endlessly moving from tip to base. However, those eyes were untouched by the blackness, those eerie, lime green digits seemingly fixated on the small woman behind them, to which the thing could only assume was a witch what with the rather stereotypical clothing and a familiar this creature could quite easily link with.
    "Found a boyfriend?" the warlock asked, the tail's attention suddenly darting up at him angrily before drooping off, staying within the confines of his shadow as a small drake, a shadow drake to be exact, his first form and one it thought apt to take when in the presence of a dragon, even a fake one. Though the dripping had stopped it's eyes were still that eerie, piercing green as it looked over at the woman and her familiar.

    "You scared of introducing yourself? Maybe you should make some droopy flowers or something." Apellio said, laughing to himself lightly, causing him to emit a dim glow, much to the nightmare's annoyance. The creature disappeared into the shadow, moving across the strips of darkness from the arches before arriving in the woman's shadow, appearing as the shadow drake once again, staring past the woman's head and more at her familiar. Apellio didn't even flinch to look back at them, he couldn't stop his familiar if he tried.

    "Who are you?" it asked, looking into the lizard's eyes, it's wings against it's sides, though ready to take flight should it need to, hovering off the scales lightly in preparation. The shadow drake simply wished to know about it's surroundings and the people it may have to be around, very much unlike Apellio, who honestly didn't care if he met everyone or no-one.
  16. The large creature found itself interrupted in the process of watching a deer run through the forest just below, it's beak slightly opened as it eyed the creature.

    That's when it's extremely acute sense of hearing picked up the sound of footsteps. It's head slowly turned, with the expectation of seeing on of those small creatures that run about the place.

    When it saw a human rather than an owl-servant, it reacted. It lowered it's head to his eye level, and spread it's wings slowly. It's normally squinted eyes opened widely, and it's pupils shrank.

    When the shadow creature went back towards the main building, the beast's eyes followed it.

    Now fully aware of everything, it responded.

    It reared on it's hind legs, spread it's wings fully, waved it's tail from side to side, ruffled the feathers on the top of it's head, and slowly opened it's massive beak, hissing. After it's jaw was fully opened, it closed it quickly, making a loud clicking noise. It continued this display, aimed at no particular person, but everyone it was unfamiliar with.

    It ended it's display, and turned towards the central tower, it's neck stretched out and it made a godawful noise, a high pitched screech, with traces of a gutteral growl.

    Martin hadn't heard Snugs screech in a few months, when a wyvern had attacked.

    He wondered what it could have been.

    That's about when he realized he had guests today.

    He hurried down the stairs as fast as he could, but the building was very tall.
    "I'm a damn fool! How could I have forgotten?'

    ...Snugs returned to his previous pose, his eyes wide, and reflecting the sun, waiting for these strangers' next move.
  17. Zidja's naturally explorative nature was interrupted when something seemed to keep shooting around frantically in the corner of her vision. Finally being bothered enough by it, she turned her head to search for the strange object or thing. There it went, quickly darting around, seemingly from shadow to shadow, until it seemed to find a place to settle down on the rear of the man in front of her as a sort of strange tail. A warlock's familiar, she assumed, watching the eerie green lights that seemed to follow her as they walked. The woman squinted her eyes at his comment, confused as to who or what he was referring to. That was, at least, until the dark creature reacted annoyedly, then its attention seemed to switch to face Vlad. Vladmiir was not unaware of this fact as the two shared a great deal of things, sights and thoughts included. With that, it peeked out it's little head once again and peered back at the creature who stared at him, once brilliant violet eyes now glowing a crimson color.

    The small dragon began to climb from the woman's shoulder, not fully exiting the warmth, comfort, or darkness of the hood. Zidja couldn't help but crack a small grin at the man's suggestion, and especially to the reactions he was getting back. Hardly a moment after, the creature suddenly switched over to her own shadow and continued to examine Vladmiir, who began to stretch his wings and lower his head, his form seeming like it started to grow. An act that was quickly interrupted when Zidja turned and looked at him, a shimmer of red passing through the pale irises, then disappearing. The dragon stared for a moment before lowering it's wings and turning it's attention back at the shadow of a drake who now questioned him. It simply blinked, but a voice emitted in the mind's of the familiar, the witch, and the warlock. A simple introduction as it's mouth remained still. "The girl calls me Vladmiir. Who are you?" It repeated back.

    Zidja continued along as she had been, not ignoring, but not focusing on the conversation at hand. Only enough to remain cautious in case she was forced to act. The large owl creature took her attention as it began to examine them, namely the man up front who seemed to mock it. Judging by the stance it took along with the hissing sound that emerged from its beak, it was probably not used to visitors. A horrid sound followed the hiss that caused the witch to cringe a little as she continued forward towards the tower.
  18. Sorena Crow had awoken in a room she did not recall falling asleep in. The young Druid girl slowly rose to her feet as she surveyed her surroundings. Out of the corner and her eye, she saw a crystal ball change color and a male voice filled the room. The speaker seemed almost unsure as he introduced himself. A feather landed in her hair, more had fallen around her. Picking one up, she discovered it eas soft, like that of an owl. The Druid expanded her mind in search of the owner of the molted feathers. The minds she touched were a combination of feline and predatory bird, an owl to more clear. "Hmmm.... interesting..." The Druid muttered. The great doors swung open of thier own accord just then. Along with the others that were in the room, Sorena walked through the doors. Upon closer inspection, the doors were carved with images of owls.
  19. "Bastion," Landazar called out into the room. "We must talk."

    A sharp face turned to meet him, "Lord Morningstar, if you please." Pacing steadily toward the hardened mage, Morningstar stopped halfway cross the chamber. Landazar's lips began to part to make his inquiry, but soon closed as he was interrupted by his employer, who apparently had no use for being polite. "It seems you've arrived at a most auspicious moment; the prospects stand at the arch as we speak." He looked back toward a shimmering basin mounted upon the wall with fine copper wire. "Follow me, and we shall see what they are worth."

    As the two walked through the empty granite halls of the manor, Landazar couldn't help but notice something; the place was almost entirely devoid of life. No guards. No advisers, save himself and that strange alchemist, and she hardly counted, seeing as she spent most of her time cooped up in her laboratory. Turning the corner, Morningstar lightly shouted ahead of them, "We're needed outside!", as they passed this very laboratory. Landazar thought "Speak of the devil.", as Morningstar shoved open the slightly cracked door. "Hurry outside, 'Alchemist'; I'm sere we'll find someone who's a match for your talents...", the mage lord said with a strange tone Landazar did not understand; a seeming mix of bot negative and positive sentiment capped with a single staccato laugh.

    As the two walked out the castle's large bronze double doors, the young prospects could be heard chatting away. Apparently, they had been too enthralled by the idea of entering the guild to notice the two stern men exiting the building and heading their way, and it seemed no one, not even Morningstar, noticed the young woman drudging behind them; it seemed the alchemist had decided to come along, albeit warily.

    ..."Yes! I too am a mage prospect! I-I meant, um, I'll be hopefully going here too for the thing they asked for mages to do. Yup."... ..."Relax. I don't bite. Though, honestly, coming here is probably a little nerve-wracking."... ..."I believe I overheard your name was Davos, is that right? Perhaps we can take this journey together. Strength in numbers, after all. Who knows what challenges this tablet has in store for us."... ..."Aye, my name is Davos. What ah... group did you belong to? You're obviously not a normal soldier."... ..."Arlin over there already acted as a guinea pig for us."...

    "No need.", Lord Morningstar shouted to the young pups, he and Landazar still more than halfway up the trail. Gaeriel's and Davos' gazes fell on Landazar and Morningstar respectively. "I'll save introductions for the end; first, let's discern whether or not you're qualified to pass the gate." As he spoke, he and Landazar strode through the stone arch, a swirling wind allowing their exit. "Now, to the field's midway, between us and the forest's edge; move.", he strictly commanded the young mages with a wave of his left arm, almost as if to shew them away.

    Once there; the hopefuls were forced to wait another six or so minutes as their possible teachers-to-be leisurely strolled the same distance they had sprinted. This man had a mean streak, and was known to have a marked disdain for the young, and it was already showing. "Line up!", he commanded, having finally arrived to the midway point of the field facing the keep. "Three... alright. So then, I've decided upon a simple task for you all. I will erect a simple barricade around the three of you, comprised of three distinct walls. The objective is to escape these walls. Only one of you may attempt escape through or over each wall, and none of you are allowed to aid the others; strictly one to a wall." As he was saying this, he and Landazar were already on there way back tot he keep. "Stand together if you don't want to die!"

    "Divergent Three Walled Prison!"

    Immediately after hearing these words, the three felt the ground shake and air flow furiously around them as incredible magic began to manifest in great tracts encircling them. One rose fastest by far, a furious and terrifying inferno, forty feet wide and tall, and half as deep. The next was nearly a third that height and still steadily growing; a massive palisade of copper and bronze, each pillar thick as a pine. Finally, the last wall to completely manifest itself was a rushing block of water much thicker than the wall of fire. In fact, this wall seemed to be far deeper than it was tall, which ended to be forty feet along with the rest, making a neat edge high above the astounded young prospects.

    "Care for some brandy, Lord Landazar? We can observe from my chambers."
    #19 GonzoB., Sep 6, 2015
    Last edited: Sep 6, 2015
  20. Arlin pouted slightly, annoyed by the fact he was called a guinea pig, the young arcanist turning to him and showing his palm as it glowed a light bluish colour. "I analysed the tabl-" he said, cut off as a loud voice from half-way across the trail rang in his ears, the boy covering one of his ears, eyes squinting as he let out a feint wince. He soon looked up towards the origin of the noise, noticing the stalwart man walking towards the three, the voice obviously coming from him once he continued to speak. He was about to bow before looking to the others, simply staying upright like a soldier to a general rather than a peasant to a king. The common courtesy in his home was to bow upon meeting someone of either more power or status than him, which was most. A sign of obedience, submission to that of those whom are better than him.

    No, this man was not better, well, yes, he was far better in almost every way to this downtrodden little witch's boy. Almost every way. You see, Arlin recognised he had something far more powerful. A little thing called potential stirred within the young boy's heart, while it had grown old in that of the man before him. This man, and the two people beside him, were steps towards him reaching such a potential, a potential where he would receive bows and respect. As such, he stood.

    He turned to see where this mage had shown them, a place not too far as to the dangers of the forest, but not exactly close enough should any of the three hopefuls manage to inflict anything particularly disastrous on the college. Once the other two had begun sprinting the boy gulped, beginning to run after them with a mumbled
    "y-yes sir!" as he begun to sprint as fast as he could .Perhaps this was one of the tests? A test of fitness, speed, all other sorts of physical traits the boy had never really focused on. Sure, he wasn't really unfit, but he wasn't anything close to an athlete. The idea crossed his mind to sing one of them to sleep or lift rock just high enough to trip one of the contenders. Though...what if that too was a test? Perhaps it was a double bluff to see if they were overly competitive!

    He decided to simply go for the option of running, albeit not very fast but he paced himself. He opted for the idea that he shouldn't be worn out by the time they are there, should more intense training follow. Once all three of the students and all three of the tutors had arrived, he lined up along with the rest and awaited instruction, stifling his breathing to make sure he didn't show just how tired out he already was with the run. Not allowed to aid others? One to a wall? Don't want to die? What was this man talking about? He moved to stay close to the others before the ground began to rumble, his eyes aflutter with the rising walls of elements, a wide smile across his face as he looked around at the three encapsulating walls.


    Once the walls were settled, the boy looked at the flaming wall. He knew he wasn't allowed to aid the others, so some of his magic was utterly useless in the scenario, but...this was conjured fire. Magic. He soon formulated a plan as he started drawing a glyph in the air, blue light forming into a circle then a series of shapes and symbols within.

    "I've got fire." he said, claiming the wall before any other could get their hands on it, though, it would likely seem like the most formidable to most. See, although he showed anxiety in almost every action he made, fumbling over words with little determination amongst social situations, he flourished under pressure. Years and years of being taught how to deal with unstable spells, accidental summonings and rapid-fire alchemical preparation, the boy had a knack for this stuff. With a few more gestures the boy summoned an orb around him, a glimmering shield of iridescent light. He moved over to the flame and moved so the edge of the shield was against the fire, testing to see if it did indeed repulse the magic, or whether this mage was powerful enough to make physical based fire through magic, a feat he would never have thought possible without a rather large source of fire nearby.
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