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Calisson
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Post by Calisson »

EDIT: disregard this post.
Last edited by Calisson on Wed Dec 07, 2011 7:35 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Kinslayer
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Post by Kinslayer »

In the Village


Kairus shuffled uncomfortably on the rock as he saw the Aqshy Mage approaching, casting a quick glance around the camp to confirm that nobody else was out of their cabins yet. Having stayed up the night without sleep, Kairus had been the first into the middle of camp, but perhaps some of the other Mages had not slept either and had been watching him. One thing was for sure though, of all the Mages here the Burning Mage was the one he trusted the least. There was a possibility that his instincts had gotten the other elf, or was he only part-elf? he certainly looked unusual, completely wrong... but he knew one thing for sure: he didn't trust Fire. There was a reason the beasts of the wild fled at the first sight of it. Fire was dangerous and hard to control, and being next to someone who had a higher than average probability of spontaneously combusting set Kairus' nerves on edge.

Still, he didn't want to make himself an enemy here already, and so whilst subconciously putting another two feet of distance between them he replied to the Aqshy Mage.

"My thoughts? I... Well, I think of home... Of the wood, where Ghur is as deeprooted as Ghyran and iron-clad tyrants do not pluck rangers from their beds.

At least... not usually."
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Syjahel
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Post by Syjahel »

In the Pit

It just had to be a Monday night. Vanatyr was disappointed that he was chosen for the pit on this day of all days, but he was not suprised. The descent was unpleasant, and whatever they'd had for raw materials was taken away. Finding himself on a small platform of slippery rock above the sea, Vanatyr did not have long to wait before he recognised his companions, the Lady Mage of Shadows and a -

Just as he was recollecting who the other Mage was, the jeweller's train of thought was interrupted by a flowery speech proposing his immediate assassionation and a division of the spoils, of sorts; and before this could even end, without a reply from the intended recipient, the skinny Death Cultist had charged at him with the aim of kicking him and inflicting as much pain and hurt as he could.

Vanatyr was a little stronger than he might look, but his arms were bound. However, he was also light on his feet and quick-witted. As the Assassin charged, he waited until his attacker had committed himsef and then sidestepped, elegantly allowing the hurtling Mage to rush onward.

Vanatyr will attempt to sidestep the charging Assassin using his naturally high Dexterity and then assist Arhast to fall into the sea, either by dodging to one side as he gets close enough to overreach himself, or by tripping him as he rushes past. Regrettably, there is no time to make any sort of appeal to the Shadow-Sorceress, so it's straight on into the violence.
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Post by Smiler666 »

Village

Marcelus grinned at the apparent beast mage's words, despite his nervous shufflings and blatant attempt to put some distance between them at least he's polite about it. Hoping to convince the ranger that he was not a threat Marcelus offered a hand across the little circle of stones that made up the village center, "where are my manners, the name' Marcelus Lycanus - and yes, it's imperial. So you didn't come here of your own accord then? I signed up as soon as I heard about this little game, it's not often you get an opportunity to get into the local royalties good books the moment you arrive in a new place. Oh and don't worry chap, I don't burst into flame without reason... At least not recently," giving the ranger a wink with the last sentence to show he was joking.
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Dalamar
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Post by Dalamar »

In the Pit

Vaelreth stumbled slightly on the uneven ground and as soon as the men that brought her down there left, she began unravelling the knots on her bonds. She seemed to have little trouble with them (Dexterity of 5 total of 6 minutes to unravel the knot).

As the assassin by her side spoke a small smirk appeared on her lips. "I accept your proposal assassin! Keep him occupied while I get out of these flimsy binds and we'll show him the weakness of his magic!"

She already had her own plans swimming around in her head but she welcomed the assassin's self-sacrifice. It would come a long way in furthering her goal.

As soon as the binds fell off her hands she brought both of her hands up and with a loud voice began chanting a spell to gather the shadows around the other two combatants, drowning them both in the darkness in hopes that at least one, or maybe even both of them, will lose balance and fall down the cliffs. If her calculations were correct, the assassin had higher chance of remaining capable of fighting in the darkness and as soon as the shadows enveloped the fighters she began incanting a spell that would let her eyes pierce the deepest shadows and see as if it was daylight.

Unfettered by darkness, Vaelreth ran up to the torch lying in the puddle of vomit, grabbed it by a dry end and tossed into the ocean.

Vaelreth will focus on freeing her hands, then attempt to cast a spell that would render both of her opponents blinded momentarily (version of Mystifying Miasma for 6 seconds). Once they are both stumbling in the dark she will cast a spell that allows her to see in the darkness (she hopes to be able to see for at least a couple minutes). If that spell works, she will run up to the torch and toss it into the sea, drowning the entire pit in darkness with her as sole person capable of seeing.
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Post by Khel »

Village

The noise throughout the camp woke Kaladeth from her dozing slumber, her eyes darting around the room as she readjusted to her surroundings. Picking herself up, she went to the makeshift tent flap, little more than a piece of cloth across the doorway, and peeked through. She could see the Supreme Sorceress from before, the one who had gleaned the truth from her about her actions of the last day. She led one of the mages she had seen throughout the camp away from them all and towards the sea, whatever their purpose was unknown to her. Suddenly there was movement towards around her, footsteps, light across the muddy ground. She took a step back from the door and pointed her staff at it, anyone who was to come through would eat a pure blast of magical energy. But the footsteps passed by her doorway and she relaxed, if but a little relieved she didn’t need to resort to violence.

Peeking through the doorway, she saw the beast mage walking towards the centre of the camp, Sal recognising the same knowledge and prowess of the wilderness within the mage, but the beast mage had obviously taken the knowledge more to heart and mind than Kaladeth had. More footsteps were heard and Kaladeth readily spotted the wizard of Aqshy walking towards the beast mage. As the two spoke, her eyes narrowed as the natural suspicion of the meeting between the two arose within her. Ripping the makeshift tent flap to one side, Kaladeth waited in the doorway momentarily and stared at the two mages conversing. What had they been talking about? What were they up to?

”Pah! This is what happens to you when you leave the sanctuary and bliss of solitarily.” Kaladeth grumbled as she strode across to campsite away from the two mages.

Finding her way over to a secluded part of the camp, Kaladeth looked up into the early morning sky, the darkness still veiling the landscape and heeding her divinations efforts. She wanted to leave this horrid place, she had no care for proving herself against these sorcerer’s and sorceress’ who inhabited the island. All she wanted to do was survive and go about her life as normally as one could for one who yearned for revenge. But if anyone dared tempt her or even looked at her wrong she would boil their blood within their bodies, smote their souls to ruin and tear their corporeal form to shreds until it was nigh ethereal.

Looking back over her shoulder, Kaladeth made her way as far out as possible without actually leaving the camp until she looked out over the ocean. A vicious, frothing turmoil of boiling unknown filled with creatures of the deep she wished to call upon but knew that with her current power she had little to no chance. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on simply feeling everything around her, of this world and not. The icy wind pricked at her thigh and sent waves of goose bumps up her skin. She could still see the tower in the distance, Kaladeth watching for the form of Kaleth so that she could return to the camp and listen to what he had to say. Not that she particularly wanted to but it seemed that if she was to get off this island, it would be through Kaleth, with the help of a mound of mage corpses.

Holding her hands out in front of her, her fingers clawed as if she was dragging the swelling ocean towards her, Kaladeth concentrated and recited a few words of power and calming.

Kaladeth’s form of meditation, preparing herself for the day ahead. When she spots the armoured form of Kaleth in the distance, she will cease meditating and return towards the centre of the camp.
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Equipment: Executioners Axe (Rune of Beastslaying - Heroic Killing Blow), 2 Scimitars (Rune of Speed - Always Strike First), Dagger, Rune Branded Leather Armour, Executioner Helm, Fine Set of Throwing Knives (x4)
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Calisson
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Post by Calisson »

In the pit,

The Dispender of of Death and the Sister of Shadows, first to go down, forged a quick alliance against the Master of Metal, late comer.
In the middle of the spur, the smith was facing the assassin on his right and the sorceress on his left, each of them close to one edge of the spur, the torch in between.

Vaelreth remained one step apart, concentrating on the urgent task to free her arms. She was relieved to let the two boys squabble. She welcomed warmly the gift of letting her become their ultimate judge.

The platform was narrow.
The two armless pugillists knew that a mistake would easily end up into a dive.

Arhast leaped forwards, one quick step carefully avoiding the torch and the slippery soil, thrusting himself towards Vanatyr.
His scream only bothered slightly his opponent as the echoes bounced back and forth.

In his waiting position, alerted by the threatening discurse, Vanatyr prepared for the first blow.
He easily avoided the charge with an elegant sidestep, leaving one of his long legs to disturb the momentum of the assassin.
His aggressor, entangled in his bonds, had aimed high at the goldsmith’s groin. Arhast avoided the obstacle but lost his balance and fell down nimbly.
He rolled around to stop his motion, in a reflex action which had saved his life in countless previous fights.
Alas! This fight was not in a street but on a narrow, slippery platform. Arhast felt instinctively that he was arriving at the edge, still in motion.
He reacted desperately in a last swift torsion, which only managed to make him dive head first.

A loud ploof! filled in the echoes of the cavern, and the resulting waves sent salty splatters on large parts of the spur.
The flickering torch was spared by the water.

The icy cold water stunned Arhast Kynthan for a second.
His killer’s instincts prevailed and he managed to swim with his legs and to emerge the head.

The dramatic action had been so quick that Vaelreth had barely managed to loosen slightly the rope.


How could the assassin unbound his arms when his familiar Mistress now coveting him was getting so close?
Would the goldsmith pardon the wrong choice seemingly made by the sorceress?
Would the sorceress betray her early word?
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Post by Red... »

In the village

Metarchis moved to the mouth of his hut and sat on the stool, staring outwards. His face resembled a mask of calm, but underneath the acolyte of Khaine struggled madly. His hearing was dim, and he strained to make out the voices of the other mages as they chit chatted in the village, but more importantly his vision was filled with horrors, the like of which he had never seen before.

In front of him paraded legions of demons and devils, their fiery tridents and whips weaving across the air. Vile wiches, clad in twisted black leather, danced around them, chanting words in a tongue that he did not understand, but the sound of which made his heart sink and his throat wretch. Now he could hear the banging of drums - heavy beats pounding in his ears, overwhelming his auditory senses. Then suddenly he could see elves: naked and shivering in the cold air. The odious fiends around them started to jab at them with their forked weapons and lash at them with their barbed whips, tearing huge rents of flesh out of their vulnerable, trembling skin. The witches around them giggled and cackled wildly as the elves screamed and begged for mercy. Then one of the hags seized an elf with her hands and placed her mouth over his leg. She clamped her teeth around it and bit down hard, sending blood spurting out all over his skin and her mouth. The elf shrieked in pain, but she bit down again: beginning to eat his leg, even while he was alive. The other witches followed her lead and soon the entire scene had descended into a horrifying vista of elves being eaten alive: legs, arms, and even entire torsos being consumed by the horrible hags. Now the beating of drums in the background was replaced by the chanting of a single word. Too quiet to discern at first, it sounded almost exactly the same as the drumming it had replaced, but gradually the word became more audible. Khaine, Khaine, Khaine, Khaine, Khaine the noise became louder and louder, ovewhelming his auditory faculties until Metarchis felt like his ears were going to explode. Then a single, clear voice cut across the horrifying scene in front of him: Now my child, you know the cost of service to me. Your heart and soul are mine, and will be mine for all eternity. Slake my thirst and you will be rewarded in death beyond your wildest dreams. Fail me, and you will writhe in agony for all eternity."

Metarchis blinked, and then suddenly it was all gone. The dread vision before him receded as though it had never existed. He trembled, the cool air of the night suddenly feeling frigid against his sensitive elven skin. He reached up to brush his ear and was suprised to discover that a small trickle of blood had seeped out of it and flowed down over his lobe. He swallowed for a moment, and then wretched again, this time re-gurgitating some of the bloody stew that he had consumed earlier in the day. He knew now what fate awaited him if he did not succeed, and that at all costs he must not fail. The price was just too high, now that his spirit was bonded so closely with that of the Bloody Handed God.

Now that his sight was clear again, he looked out across the night at the camp and decided he no longer wanted to be alone. He lifted up his weary limbs and walked out across the ground into the middle of the village. There he sat, waiting. Open to talking with others, but equally content to watch them gibber to one another if no one felt like approaching him.
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Dalamar
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Post by Dalamar »

In the Pit

Vaelreth laughed loudly as she saw the assassin plunge head-first into the waters.

"what an interesting show. Tell me, friend" She turned to the metal wizard "did you arrange for it for my amusement? We were told only two of us can leave this predicament, and here we are. It shouldn't be terribly hard for us to work together and make sure that we leave alive. After all, swimming with your hands tied is terribly treacherous"

She smiled sweetly at the only other mage remaining standing as her hands worked quickly on the binds.
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Syjahel
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Post by Syjahel »

In the Pit

Vanatyr sidestepped with the lightning grace of one born to fence, although he spent more time in truth on more esoteric pursuits. He was too busy with the simple joy of survival for a moment as the Assassin plummeted into the icy waters below. Khaine be praised! he breathed, steadying himself as he heard the splash. He'd seen the whole of his life blur before his eyes for a moment there, and there were clearly a few things that needed work now he was apparently chosen for a little more survival.

Like a thunderbolt, it hit him: there was a life to seize here, a path to glory undreamed of and depths of darkness so great that they would consume a lesser being. A tiny part of his soul whimpered in fear at the cataclysmic forces glimpsed beyond the world, beyond contemplation, beyond all mortal ken! To master such power - he could become a God! He needed but the Will and the determination to impose it. And to do this, he would have to do better than his performance so far.

This critical review, and with it the swirling maelstrom of dread visions that both enticed and terrified him, was interrupted by harsh laughter. For a moment, Vanatyr thought it was his own. Adrenaline made his nerves sing. But though the Assassin might be splashing to his doom in the waters below, he might yet find a way to surface and there was still this other one to deal with.

"what an interesting show. Tell me, friend" the Shadow-Mistress said, "did you arrange for it for my amusement? We were told only two of us can leave this predicament, and here we are. It shouldn't be terribly hard for us to work together and make sure that we leave alive. After all, swimming with your hands tied is terribly treacherous"

His head still swimming with visions of glory and despair, Vanatyr took a moment to register. But when he did, it was with a low chuckle of his own.

"Mistress Shadowmancer, I believe your exact words were, "I accept your proposal assassin! Keep him occupied while I get out of these flimsy binds and we'll show him the weakness of his magic!". I may be a mere smith, but I am not a fool.

"However, I can respect your desire to deal from a position of strength and I understand that only two of us need to make it out of this pit. Now, I am hardly likely to fish out the man who just tried to kill me. I have no objection to us working together to make sure it is we who survive. It will take more than a pretty face to make me trust you, however.

"Now I have a proposition for you, milady; why do we not get back to back and see if we can loosen each other's bonds? Nimble as your fingers may be I can see that you are having trouble with the knots. It will let us keep a better lookout as well."


The only circumstance the jeweller would ever willingly turn his back on a Sorceress would be once she was long dead, but needs must when Khaine provides. Vanatyr continued to work on the bonds as he spoke, not sure yet if his new 'ally's' promise meant as much as a maibd's kiss.

If the Sorceress agrees, untie each other's knots. In any case, keep an eye out for the Assassin and try to get his own ropes off. If Arhast reappears, kick him hard in the face the moment he shows it above the edge.
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Post by Malus99 »

In the Pit. No, scratch that, In the freezing cold lake, even worse!

Arhast surfaced from the icy cold water with a shuddering gasp, for a moment, he just floated, considering his predicament. A black laugh bubbled from his throat as he saw the ridiculousness of it all.
So much for taking risks, I should have slunk off into the shadows and left the sorceress and that thug of a smith to duel it out.
“Damn,” Arhast finally managed to sputter after his hysterical laugh had died away. “Missed the bugger.”
There was only one thing left to him now in this situation, only one option to still escape from this accursed pit.
Ignoring his hands for a moment, the assassin summoned into his mind words in a language so foul that they tore at his thoughts merely to imagine them. As the first syllable twisted across his tongue and burst from his mouth in a scream of ecstacy and agony, Arhast felt his throat rent by their potency and his mouth blackening with the corruption of their touch. He screamed his curse to the skies with as much bile and anger as his tortured frame could muster, each bloodied word of his chant was draped in the agonies of their utterance and dripped with the venom of pure, unadaltered hate. With these cursed sounds he invoked his last great art.

The souls of the damned reacted violently to his summoning, wailing in despair and pain as they felt the coils of magic bind about their form and call them to the aid of their master, to the one they loathed most, their murderer, the shadow that had ripped them from this life before their time. Arhast fed off this loathing, using it to make him even more powerful, enslaving the spirits of those he had slaughtered to bring him back into this world and allow him to carry on his great work. With a great shout, Arhast bid them to take form and raise him from the water on a pillar of entropic energy, to bear him to the shore so that he could continue his master’s great work.

If the spell is successful then Arhast will be released gently upon the shore of the water by his minions with a quiet smile playing across his face. He will turn to the sorceress, and calmly inquire if she still intends to honour their bargain, before favouring the mage of Chamon with a hungry grin.
“Now, where were we?”


(OOC: Just each of you take a moment to picture my moment of triumph, because it would be incredibly awesome, seriously badass, and there is absolutely no chance in all of the seven hells that it is actually going to work. I would have to be almost as lucky to get out of this situation as I was unlucky enough to get into it.)

If the spell fails and the spirits betray Arhast then he will sink under the waves with a wry smile of ironic humour plastered across his face, not struggling against the judgement of his one and true master.

As for the spell, it’s a movement spell, don’t know whether it is theory (he’s basically being lifted on a pillar of ghosts, like one of our sorceress models. Does that count?) or completely new, it will only affect Arhast. Is the distance touch with both hands as he is casting it on himself? It will only last 6 seconds (long enough to move him from the water to the shore), he is level 1, unstable location, 6 minutes in preparation and casting (hoping he lives that long, I would have to be really unlucky though for him to roll a 1 and die before he finishes), No components used as he has none with him, He is screaming his spell at the top of his voice.

If it will not make casting the spell any easier then at the same time Arhast will attempt to free his hands but if concentrating on the spell and ignoring his hands will give him a better roll then he will concentrate on the spell.

Damnit Dalamar, I could have really done with the Lore of Shadows right now!

Also, 'Kick him hard in the face' Syjahel? That's just downright unkind! The assassin will try to sidestep the Smith and give him a taste of his own bloody medicine if it ever gets this far!
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.
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Calisson
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Post by Calisson »

In the pit.(end)

Arhast's rage was boiling in his veins. The sea around him seemed to steam.
The dark pound started to whirl slowly around him.
It accelerated and soon a waterspout emerged.
The liquid showed distorted faces, bent limbs emerged sporadically, the howl roared progressively to a deafening scream.
At the top of the column of the damned, emerged the sneering face of Arhast. He stared defiantly at the two petrified Mages.
The column rose above the dark waters and bent towards the spur, bringing the Servant of Death closer to his deserved revenge.
Alas, the spirits of the slaughtered went amok and the column wiggled frantically, ending in a deep plunge into the icy waters.


The sea became still, long before the two Mages recovered the normal pace of their heart beat.
The torch blinked and the flame disappeared, after they had both freed their hands. The two remaining Candidates did not care to move at all for the rest of the night.

As the night ended, the opening on the top of the cavern let a dim light enter.
Two ropes were sent, with a knot ready to place below the arms. They were hoisted to the fresh air.

They would never forget the scream of the dead and the hoarse last laughter of Arhast.
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Post by Calisson »

The Magic Reality Show (TMRS) – Second challenge

In the gloomy morning battered by squalls, two shivering guards were carrying a corpse from the beach to the tower.
Gathered in front of the tower, the seven remaining Candidates looked at the scenery in silence.

One of the Candidates is no longer with us. He was not up to the challenge.
Kaleth was accompanied by the magnificent, scantly clothed Lady seen the previous evening. A light whirlwind dried off the air around them two.

Today is Tuesday.
Your challenge is to make a magic object, and to demonstrate its efficiency.
The object will be yours, till your death.
Use one of these stones.


One of the guards opened a bag and displayed a dozen of tiny, shiny stones.
The stones to be chosen were:
- carbuncle,
- toadstone,
- bar of electrum,
- amber stone with dragonfly inclusion,
- pure rock crystal sphere (as large as a fist)
- giant fossil shark tooth
- dark red coral branch
- pink diamond
- opal
- comet stone
- magnet
- asbestos.

Each Candidate could choose a single stone from the bag, in order to make a magic object looking nice and precious, as it should. For example, it could be a wand with a stone inserted, or an amulet.
Each Candidate was given a small gold bar, enough to make a ring with a crimping.

In the evening, the Candidates would have to show the use of their magic object
and explain the choice of their stone.
The demonstration would be made in front of the tower, publicly.


<OOC: Tuesday is inauspicious for Artemii and dedicated for Kaladeth.

-=-=-

Magic objects belong to two categories: arcane and non- arcane.

- Arcane magic objects are used to help casting generic magic spells.
The most common are magic rod, ward or staff. A tome of scrolls would belong to that category, too.
They have no permanent effect besides that.
Only spell casters are able to use them.

- The other magic objects have permanent magical properties, not requiring a spell afterwards.
They don’t help to cast generic spells. Instead, they have a single spell permanently embedded.
Examples are magic weapon, magic armor, enchanted items (like rings), talismans, battle standards...

In order to create a magic object, a Mage must cast a “magic object creation” spell on the already existing selected object. The process can serve to melt several components into a single magic object.

- Nothing else is required for arcane objects.

- After they are created, the non-arcane magic objects will “absorb” the first spell cast by the same Mage, touching them.
They will “release” that spell once a day, at will of any bearer. With the same side effect.

Magic objects usually last for one year, sometimes longer, but for the challenge, one day is enough.
Of course, you’re welcome to melt your stone with your staff and make it a magic staff, useful to cast spells.

-=-=-

Stones are given on a first served basis.
Of course, you don’t want someone else to pick up the stone you covet while you are writing.
I suggest you posted in the OOC that you started writing your post with that stone in mind.
It would be polite from the other Candidates not to take the same stone during the next hour – or if they do, to hurry up and to PM to the disappointed candidate.
On the other hand, if you reserved the stone and didn’t post within that hour, that could irritate the other Candidates.

-=-=-

Please note that the “speed bonus” for posting early is now 1/10th of what it was, i.e. between 1 to 7%, so you should not worry at all about that. The votes will be predominant.
On the other hand, the NO EDIT, SINGLE POST policy is still in use.

-=-=-

In your post, you have to write your day’s actions:
- which stone you pick up (it must not have been taken previously: there is only one of each kind)
- what you do during the day
- your evening’s discourse about the stone's properties
- the demonstration you intend to make in the evening (it must include casting a spell – there are slaves available as guinea pigs). The spell will be solved by the Mod.
- You can add whichever action you wish to be done during the same day. Remember, the more often you cast the same spell, the easier it is to cast (to a certain point).
- If you wish to perform an action that the other Candidates should not know, PM me BEFORE posting your day’s post.

>IC.

Get your stone and carry on!
Last edited by Calisson on Tue Nov 01, 2011 11:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Post by Malus99 »

Arhast's iron grip fastened around the wailing spirits, moulding them to his purpose, they twisted and turned, writhing around in their desperate efforts to escape the Shyishite's control.

A maniacal grin twisted across his face as the magic began to form, his heart beat double time, his body set on fire by the infusion of magic that coursed through his veins as he called the winds to his will. He could feel it taking shape, the threnody of terrified screams graced his ears and he felt the revulsion of the lost souls as he bound them to him.

Slowly, every so slowly, the darkness below him began to take shape, an eerie green glow, darker than the luminous shine of grave mould, yet lighter than the dull cast of raw warpstone, emanated from beneath the waters, casting a halo of twisted, sickly light into the pit.

Arhast began to rise.

He was born aloft upon a swirling pillar of screaming skulls, their visages hideously disfigured into expressions of deepest torment and despair, their wails and cries echoed off the cavern walls in a spine-tingling wall of noise that washed over the denizens of the pit with the chilling feeling of an ice-cold razor being drawn across the skin. The flickering shadows of the lost souls silhouetted the figure of the slight assassin within their midst, Arhast turned his face to the sky, arms raised in joy and triumph. And he began to laugh.

It was a laugh of madness, a wizard's cackle, and it rattled on for what seemed like an eternity. At last, he lowered his arms, and looked his pitiless god right in the eye, a confident sneer twisting his face.

"Judge me!" He boomed.

There was a moment's silence.

Then, a sharp squeak, like the surprised sound a mouse makes when it accidentally sits on a needle.

The spirits vanished and Arhast was sent plunging back into the water with a scream of confusion and rage.

He surfaced once, a look of puzzlement on his features, but then his expression cleared like the breaking of the clouds after a storm. And he smiled.

Crossing his arms upon his chest, the assassin slowly sank from view. His end, and a new beginning.

Or perhaps just a continuation, with more of the same.
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.
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Kinslayer
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Post by Kinslayer »

Kairus spent the rest of the morning away from the others, his brief encounter with the Burning Mage having unsettled his nerves somewhat. When the iron tyrant and his mistress returned however, Shadow Seer and Blood Priest in tow, the Beast Mage was quick to return to the centre of camp. It seemed the Death Mage had been undone, but Kairus had to wonder curiously how easy it was to ensure that a Mage of Shyish really was gone for food. Their task for the day was explained to them, and a small pile of stones were tipped out onto a flat tree stump around which they had gathered. Kairus eyed each stone thoughtfully as they were revealed, but he knew the moment he saw the amber it was for him. As some of the others reached their hands into the pile or called out stones they wanted to use, Kairus snapped his fingers and watched as his raven swept down and plucked the amber from the pile, returning it to his hand.

He already had ideas forming in his head for what he could do with the magic stone. His staff, a gnarled oakroot, was already topped with a similar ball of amber, however that one was much larger and was woven into the wood with arcane bindings. This new sample was smaller, but contained the petrified body of a dragonfly. The Beast Mage brought the stone to his nose and took a sniff, feeling the power radiating off it against his face like warmth from a flame. And yet, it was only subtle... As if the energies within were as yet untapped and were waiting for Kairus to release them. The Beast Mage stowed the gem and gold bar into one of the pockets of his long brown, feather covered cloak and then turned from the camp without a word. He was heading for the beach.

The first of his necessary tasks for the day, Kairus walked out onto the beach and used some of his magic skills to call forth a seal. He didn't have too much time to waste on this most simple of tasks, and certainly wasn't going to use any of his sacred items. If it came down to it, Kairus was a seasoned and experienced hunter, and he would go into the water with his hunting bow and catch a seal the mundane way. The Mage stayed near the water until one of the seals heard his call and came to him, offering itself up for the greater purpose of Kurnous, the Great Hunter. Kairus wept as he drew an arrowhead across the seals throat, promising the Great Hunter that a life would be returned someday soon. Once the seal was dead, he set about skinning it, being sure not to damage its thick leathery hide.

Not willing to let the beast die in vain, Kairus then dragged what was left of the seal back up the hill to the camp, working his arms in a bid to return some of the strength he had lost the day before. He would leave it by the fire for the others.



Amber stone and seal skin in hand, Kairus then set off across the grassy meadow in the direction of his consecrated place. The dragons footprints were not too far outside of camp, and his life in the wild meant Kairus was as fit as a horse and he ran there without stopping. By his reasoning, even though he had wasted precious time hunting at the beach and dragging a dead seal back into camp, being one of the closest to camp and swiftest on his feet Kairus would of reached his place around the same time anyone else did theirs. The Beast Mage walked directly into the centre of the octagon, which was formed by four huge pine trees and four impressive footprints, and sat down to begin his work. The Mage was happy to spend the first few hours simply thinking over his design, preparing his mind, and absorbing whatever energies of Ghur were drawn to his favoured place. When at last he began his work, Kairus did so slowly and with care.

The Beast Mage took off his cloak, and then removed several long feathers from it, choosing them from places where they wouldn't be missed. When he had enough of the brown feathers, he reached into his possessions and took out one of black ravens feathers, a common item but one that would boost his spell nonetheless. He laid the feathers to one side, and then set the amber with the dragonfly down on the ground as well. What he had in mind was a leather breastplate, one that would offer him minimal combat protection on its own, but which he would enchant. He had most of the day to do his work, and Kairus had made all of his own clothes in the last century anyway thanks to life alone in the wood. He first set about cutting and shaping the skin into a chestplate which would strap on underneath his cloak. Once he had the material ready, he would decorate it with feathers from his cloak to make it more aesthetically pleasing. These feathers he would arrange in the shape of a symbol of Kurnous, for added luck and respect.

When he was done, he slowly plucked the strands from his black raven feather one by one. With each strand he plucked, he chanted another prayer and incantation to Kurnous, increasing the tempo and volume with every new oath. By the time he plucked the last of the feathers strands, he was dancing like a grizzly bear gone mad, bounding around his new leather armour in wide circles, kartwheeling and bouncing off the trees. He only stopped when he almost tumbled into one of the dragon steps, and realised that he had done all he could to invigourate his next spell. A short while before he would have to return to the camp, Kairus then laid the amber and dragonfly atop the centre of his masterpiece. He started to chant, quietly at first but gradually getting louder, plucking grass from his consecrated spot with both hands and throwing it over the armour. When he was done, he couldn't see the armour or the stone thanks to a mound of grass.

Had his spell worked? Kairus plunged his hands into the grass mound and pulled out what would hopefully be a resplendent suit of Kurnous blessed leather armour, the symbol of a dragonfly upon its chest!

This was designed to give him magical protection from other spells, a ward sewn into the material just as the feathers were, not with string but with words of power and oaths and prayers to the Great Hunter.


In the evening, Kairus will cast a small magic missile (a projectile swarm of snapping crows) that will boomerang around and hit himself in the chest. Hopefully it should not affect him!

Either that or it's the first RPG suicide.
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Khel
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Post by Khel »

Kaladeth had returned from her meditation, listening from afar as Kaleth gave them their new task. It seemed simple enough, create a magical object which would aid them until they were dead. Already a few ideas were floating around Kala’s mind. Walking up to the bag holding guard, Kala looked over its contents. A good number of stones sat within the bag and a lot of unremarkable ones too. Reaching in, Kala fished out the deep red carbuncle stone, before turning it over and over in her palm, examining it and making sure it wasn’t fouled in any sort of way. Turning away from the guard, Kala started to walk away, caring little for what the others chose or the report of the dead mage who hadn’t survived the pit. All of that was immaterial now for Kala was focussed upon the job at hand.

The winds of magic flowed strongly today for Kala, this day, Tuesday, always having a positive effect upon her even if they were for the wrong reasons. Her consecrated altar would still be up in the mountains, whether she would begin trekking there again was debated quickly by Kala and herself alone. The eyes of the other mages burrowed into the back of her, their spying eyes causing her to freeze up momentarily and fill her with suspicion. She would need the seclusion again, she thought, leaving the camp at a brisk pace. The morning was particularly frosty, but Kaladeth had walked the path before and she remembered the way to and from the camp and the mountain, the magical fire that burnt at the altar would serve to warm her she hoped.

And so she began to long trek to her consecrated place, last time having taken several hours, now that she had a definite place of destination, it suddenly felt like a lot less.

Arriving at her consecrated place, she looked over the gloomy altar and shivered. Her mind was filled with the same hallucinations she had seen the day before, the gushes of her father’s blood drenching her and snapping her awake, only for her to realise that she had been only seeing things. A somewhat annoying side effect of the spells from the day before, but she had seen much worse, plus she daren’t not imagine any worse.

Perching herself upon a rock that looked out over the landscape, Kala pondered her next course of action. She spent a good solid hour thinking of what she should create, finally making up her mind on the subject as a particularly cold wind rolled by. She would create a magic ring from the items she had been given, something which she could wear upon her finger and always have on hand. While she had thought of forging a magical staff, Kala had seen a few mages in her time put too much faith into their staff and if they were disarmed or their staff was broken by a spell of shattering, then they were next to useless. A ring on the other hand, would be harder to notice and would always be upon her finger, much more reliable than the old staff which she carried already.

Turning back to her altar, she place the deep red carbuncle stone right in front of the altar. She paused, looking at the stone for a moment before reaching into her robe and taking out the small bar of gold she had received from the guards. She hadn’t much experience in the moulding of metal, but she was confident in her abilities.

Placing the gold upon a propped up rock which had a shallow indent in the middle to catch the gold if it melted, Kala pointed her staff at gold bar and focussed her mind to the matter.

Speaking a few words of power and adding into the mix the word Chamon, Kala focussed into grabbing the raw power of the winds of power that blew around her, tendrils of Dhar and pure chaos visibile only to her. Her eyes didn’t blink as she stared into the small piece of gold, her mind willing the gold bar to take a different form by using the raw wind of chaos. She buzzed with magical energy as she summoned the different entities to her and bound them to her will, gaining some and losing others. Her lips moved, her small voice suddenly booming with magical energy as she repeated the spell she had conjured up, only focussing a small portion of raw power into gold bar that sat before her. Her chanting stopped as she finished her spell and she felt the power ooze out from her and bending and twisting down her arms and to the ends of her fingertips, riding her staff down to the gold bar before her. She prepared herself as best she could, two hours of chanting and calling upon sorceress power. With a final, sudden shout, Kala invoked her spell.

My will be done!

Spellcasting: Transfiguring the gold bar.
Target: The gold bar sitting directly in front of her.
Intended Outcome: Channelling raw power into bending the gold bar into a small ring with a large enough head of gold for a gem to sit atop. Kala has only used a small amount of raw chaos wind to test how much the bar will bend to her will. If it doesn’t need bend to her liking, she will refocus and recast the spell, channelling more raw winds of magic into the bar. She will keep trying to cast the same spell if it fails and will be looking for how much raw power she will need to transfigure the gold into a ring crimping with a solid amount of gold at its top for a gem to be emplaced.

With that, she stopped and regathered herself. Looking to the stone next to her, she picked it up and examined it once more. She took out her dagger and started to scratch delicately a tiny rune into the blood red rock. The tiny rune said Kharaidon and she would use his name to summon his dark power and strike down her foes. Offering a small price of blood to the daemon of the otherworld, Kala performed a small incision with her dagger into the palm of her hand, rewarding with a nice bloom of blood. Squeezing the carbuncle tightly, Kala let the blood drench the stone and seep into the small etching of the rune, before putting it down next to the remnants of the gold bar.

Taking another hour to refocus her mind, Kala began the “magic object creation”. She would not need her staff as she had to curl her hands around the two objects in front of her and shelter them almost with her hands, instead using her hands to channel a large amount of will and energy into the two objects. Feeling the powers of chaos once more surge into existence, she began the slow enchanting process, words of power and specifically to the darker daemons she called upon as this ring was to be used only for smiting her enemies. The ring would be a weapon of shock and despair, striking down from the heavens with a bolt of pure darkness. Or so she hoped. The time she spent conjuring the spell felt like eternity, but it closer to another two-three hours. It was only within the last ten minutes of her enchantment that her pace began to quicken. More words of power flowed from her lips as she concentrated harder and harder with casting the spell, pushing more and more energy into the two objects. Her eyes widened as the power flowed down her into the objects, her hair fluttering to her side as the winds of power snapped and crackled around her head. Shouting the final lines of her spell, willing the objects into an arcane state, Kala screeched as she felt the energy leave her form and move into the red carbuncle and the gold.

Spellcasting: Magic Object Creation
Target: The inscribed red carbuncle and the (hopefully) gold ring
Intended Outcome: To turn the two objects into a ring with a blood red carbuncle atop a solid gold base with gold crimp. If the spell fails, she will concentrate more on what she did wrong and perform the same spell with the same time frame but willing more power to her and focussing on what she had done wrong or what area she lacked power in.
Saldrimek Xenan - WS6 / S4 / T3 / D5 / I3

Equipment: Executioners Axe (Rune of Beastslaying - Heroic Killing Blow), 2 Scimitars (Rune of Speed - Always Strike First), Dagger, Rune Branded Leather Armour, Executioner Helm, Fine Set of Throwing Knives (x4)
Inventory: Amulet of Darkness, Poison Vials x7, Deadly Poison Vials x8
Mount: Dark Steed
Gold: 163
Skills: Ambidexterity, Frenzy, Two Weapon Fighting, Ride
Class: Khainite
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Red...
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Post by Red... »

Sensing a natural synergy with the giant fossilised shark tooth, Metarchis was quick to dash his hand into the centre of the bag and grip the precious stone within his hand. Seeing the others pawing over the different pebbles, he then quick snatched his hand back and slapped it against his side. His fingers curled tightly around the rock, ensuring that no one could steal it from him or knock it from his grasp.

Stepping further back from the scrum of mages around the guards, Metarchis looked more closely at his prize. He quickly recognised why the stone had sung out to him with such resonance: like Khaine, the shark entombed within it's prison was a being of ancient age who nonetheless still lusted for the taste and smell of fresh blood with an undying passion.

This is perfect. Now I have an emblem worthy of the glory and power of my liege.

Placing the stone in a safe pouch inside his clothing, Metarchis hurried quickly back into his hut, whereupon he picked up his stool and looped it under one arm. Gathering his components and items of equipment, he then headed out determinedly in the direction of his makeshift Cauldron of Blood, roughly an hour to the West in a low grove near a hill in the mountain. Several strands of straw had lodged themselves inside his clothing while he slept, and these chafed against his skin as he jogged. After several minutes, he slowed to a brisk pace, but still rapidly covered the ground between the village and where he had erected his consecrated place just the day before.

Upon arrival, Metarchis looked down with a sense of pride and pleasure at the work of sacred art that he had created. On the side of the Cauldron, he could see that the crudely etched rune of his master shimmered unsteadily with an unholy crimson light, flickering in intensity from one moment to the next. He felt the presence of the Bloody Handed God within that hallowed grove, and felt both simultaneously reassured by the knowledge that his mortal life was blessed by the great god himself, but terrified of the fate that would await if at any stage he should fail. Khaine, he knew, did not tolerate defeat.

Heaping his pile of items on the floor, Metarchis paused to gain his breath and concentrate more fully on the task ahead. As he did, he found to his horror that his eyes filled up once more with terrifying images and his ears roared with horrifying sounds:

He could see a dark elf, sitting, naked on the floor. Wrapped in thick, cast iron chains, his body was shivering and his teeth were chattering. He was surrounded by a unyielding darkness, which - even though he was just an observer - filled Metarchis with a sense of a fear, horror and despair. Then suddenly, without warning, a tiny spider scurried out of the darkness and scuttled over to the elf. The captive tried to squirm away, but the weight and rigidity of the chains prevented him from moving far, and soon the spider was climbing up his leg. The eight legged creature stopped just below his thigh, seemed to pause for a moment, and then lowered it's vicious looking little head down against the elf's pale skin and took a tiny bite. Miniature mouth filled with elven flesh, the little spider then took off again at great speed, running down from the prisoner's leg and fleeing back into the gloomy darkness beyond. As he did, a tiny fleck of blood appeared where the spider had bitten down, and lingered there, insufficient in size to even leak on further down his leg. Metarchis watched on, unable to take his eyes away from the chilling vision in front of him, but uncertain of what would happen next. The answer was not long in coming. Just several minutes after the tiny spider had retreated, the nose of a single rat appeared in the corner of the scene. As it skittered forwards, several more appeared behind it. Then a larger group appeared behind them, and then an even larger mass behind them. Within moments the entire vision was filled with ugly, leering rats, who surged forwards with irresistible force. The leading rat dove lustily at the tiny wound upon the elf's lower thigh, and ripped at it thirstily with his jagged teeth. This tore the wound open, and sent blood pouring down his leg, billowing into puddles of scarlet fluid upon the floor. Smelling the stench of fresh elven blood, the other rats charged forwards and began to attack the elf as well. They gnawed at every free area of skin: his arms, his legs, his body, his hands, his feet, his eyes and mouth. The elf became submerged beneath the horde of rats, so much so that Metarchis could no longer even see a single inch of untouched skin. Within minutes, the feasting had ended. The rats withdrew, leaving behind them a mere skeleton of a body, every last ounce of skin having been ripped off its frame and every last touch of blood having been licked away. Then slowly, the darkness rolled forwards, concealing the now clean skeleton beneath its pitch black cloak. And as it did, the vision began to fade. Metarchis found his eyes clearing and realised that he was still sitting next to his makeshift Cauldron of Blood, waiting to begin completing the second day's challenge.

Metarchis picked up his dagger and spent the better part of an hour sawing away the three legs of the stool with it. Once these had been removed, he used the tip of the short blade to cut a hollow into the circular seat section of the stool, one just large to fit the fossilised shark's tooth inside, without going all of the way through the wood. He then laid the circular section onto the ground and placed the fossilised shark's tooth within it, embedding it down into the recently cut hollow.

Metarchis took out his knife and cut his left arm, for the second time in two days, this time higher up so as not to disturb the other cut. The incision he made was very small: just large enough to produce a small trickle of blood. He wiped this up with the edge of the dagger, and then wiped it over both the wood of the circular stool section and the fossilised shark tooth now sitting within it. Rather than rip off another piece of cloth to bind the wound, he simply moved the crude binding from the day before from the old wound (which had now scabbed over) up onto the new one, pulling it tightly around it so as to staunch the wound.

In order to bless the rite he was about to carry out more firmly, Metarchis picked up the eye of a ritually sacrified dragon (unnatural component) and placed it onto the centre of the wooden circle, so that it sat on top of the fossilised giant shark tooth. He then placed both of his hands into the makeshift Cauldron of Blood, and closed his eyes. He began top pray.

Dear Khaine, who rules the heavens, bloody and glorious is thy kingdom. Grant unto me the power to cast magic in your name, and fall not into failure. I beg of you my liege. Ave

Prayer said, Metarchis pulled his hands back out of the Cauldron and placed them firmly on either side of the wooden circle (with stone and dragon eye sitting inside the partially hollowed out centre). He started to speak in loud, clear tones:

Khaine, Vanquisher of Gods and Lord of Blood,
I beseech you to bless the wooden circle held within my hands,
Transform the stone and wood into a shield of mighty power,
That it might defend me against your enemies,
And protect me against their petty acts of heresy


Metarchis's voice continued to grow loud, until it boomed across the low scrubs around him. He lifted his arms from the shield and began to swing them vigorously back and forth.

Take this shark's tooth and this dragon's eye,
With this wooden circle and a drop of blood
And forge for me a shield of mighty power
That will ward me from those who seek to harm you
By slaying your faithful acolyte


Metarchis could feel the sweat rising on his brow, but he continued.

Give to me a magical shield, my master,
So that I may concentrate on killing in your name,
So that I may fight with all my strength and being,
And slaughter the unworthy whereever they might be!


With the final words of his incantation uttered, Metarchis collapsed back down onto the floor, panting heavily. He continued to concentrate as much as he could on the wooden circle in front of him, watching to see what happened to it.

OOC:

Spell: Bloodshield of Khaine.
Target: Wooden circle section of the stool (legs have been removed), with Shark's tooth embedded in a partially hollowed out section in the middle.
Expected effect: Transform the wooden circle into a non-arcane Bloodshield of Khaine.

A. -1: transformation / magic object
B. +1: well known spell
C. +1: affects small object
D. +2: touch with both hands
E. -1: lasting 1 year & 1 day
F. -2 : proficiency level 1
G. +0.5: consecrated place, but not holy day
H. +1: 9 hours preparing the mind (Metarchis is not doing anything else all day)
I. +1: an unnatural component destroyed
J. +0: Elaborate, loud casting, but light concentration after
Total: +2.5 (+3.5 if +1 fluff bonus added)

That's my estimation - it could be wrong though :)

If the spell fails, Metarchis will attempt to cast it again, this time using a sacrificed cold one lizard skin instead of a dragon eye.

IC:

Once the spell attempts had been carried out, Metarchis returned to the village, carrying the shield and other items and components with him (not including the makeshift Cauldron of Blood as this is too heavy to move).

At the later assembly of mages, Metarchis 'borrowed' a slave and some rope from the competition organisers. He tied the girl fastly against the tree and then marched roughly ten feet away. He lifted the shield so that is facing her, and barks loudly:

Khaine, defend thy minion! Ward her from incoming blows!!

Metarchis thrust the shield out aggressively towards her, and held it there for several moments. Still marginally unclear about whether the spell has been cast from the shield onto the girl, Metarchis decided to throw caution to the wind and lowered the shield back down, placing it carefully next to his feet. He then pulls out his dagger. He aimed it at the girl for a minute, and then hurled it towards her. The blade flew through the air, clean and true in it's direction, hurtling towards the bound slave girl against the tree. Metarchis held his breath as he watched the blade close the distance towards her.

OOC: If Metarchis manages to miss altogether at this range, he will try again and again until he does manage to get on target. That way he can test whether the bloodshield has worked or not.

IC: Once the trial is concluded, Metarchis explains his choice of stone:

Khaine is an ancient deity with an admirable thirst for blood that has lasted many millennia. The ancient shark entombed within this fossil is also an ancient organism that - during its life - demonstrated a lust for blood. The two seemed in perfect synergy with one another.

In summary: Metarchis takes the giant fossilised shark tooth, cuts off the legs of his stool, embeds the shark tooth inside the stool, casts Bloodshield of Khaine on it, and then uses this non arcane magic item on a slave girl back during the public demonstration: throwing his dagger at her to demonstrate whether or not the absorbed spell inside the shield gave her some degree of protection from this attack, as a result of the magic he had released on her from the shield.
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Dalamar
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Post by Dalamar »

The wailing finally stopped as Vaelreth got herself up. She was glad that the death wizard was gone from the equation. The power he managed to channel through him was tremendous, even if in the end it proved stronger than he was. If someone capable of channeling such enormous amount of energy survived longer, and learned to control it, this contest would have only one victor.

As the two survivors were pulled up she finally found words to reply to the metal mage.
"You would do well not to trust not just me, but anyone else on this island as well. This may be the only time apart from the rest of the contestants, so let me offer you this: "Ally with me and together we will eliminate the rest. Then we can sort this little misunderstanding between the two of us without interruption. Think about it" She smiled as they reached the top and were again surrounded by guards, leaving the metalurgist no time to reply.

The new task seemed very similar to the first one, except instead of consecrating a place, they had to consecrate an item, preferably for longer than a day as it would definitely come in handy in the future contests. Out of the pile of gemstones, the black Opal caught her eye immediately, and she snatched it before any other contestant would have a chance at taking it from her. She also packed the bar of gold and smiled, gold was far better conductor than copper and she needed the best to channel the raw wind of Ulgu into her creation.

She started towards the cave in which she built her consecrated place, stopping by her ramshackle hut on the way and picking up her staff and the blowpipe, as well as a handful of needles for it, just in case. The trip took her much less than the first time as she didn't need to weave and search through the mountains. Her steps lead her directly to the cave.

Once in place, she set her items to the side and approached her creation from the day before. It lost all of its magic but it remained. It was a good sign to her and as she placed both hands on the surface of the throne she began loud chanting, calling the winds of Ulgu to her. Shadows were the most malleable of things even more so than water and she knew that well. She directed her chanting and magic into the throne, picturing before her an altar of shadows upon which she would construct her creation.

OOC: Vaelreth casts the sanctification spell once again, for the duration of one day she will require the altar to empower her spellcasting. She will keep trying until she succeeds, although she knows she will need most of the day towards her attempt at creating the item.

With the altar of shadows formed before her, she took the gold bar and placed it there. Then followed the opal, which she positioned in the middle of the bar of gold. She needed something that would emphasize the power of shadows so the casting was easier and the spell would hold better. Shadows were best at hiding, but also deceiving and confusing the senses.

A smile crept on her face and she knew exactly what kind of spell to imbue her new creation with. She produced the essence of deepest shadows from the folds of her robes and placed it over her materials, surrounding them in darkness. She was willing to sacrifice her most precious component for her casting if need be.

Vaelreth closed her eyes and raised her arms above her head, chanting arcane formulae and gathering the winds of magic around her. The concentration it required was tremendous and it took her several hours until she was sure that the magic she gathered was powerful enough. She could feel it close to bursting and exploding with disastrous effects. Instead she plunged her hands into the globe of darkness laid upon her altar and found the materials of her casting within. A bar of gold and a black opal. She began molding it with her hands as easily as one plays with clay while the magic seeped from her fingertips into the metal. As her voice reached crescendo of the chanting, her fingers finished the work of shaping a filigree circlet with an opal in its middle and the essence of shadows seemed to get sucked into the item itself, empowering it further. With a grin on her face she placed the circlet upon her brow, the gold darkened by the power of shadows within it and the gemstone itself seemed to contain swirling darkness.

Spell: Lore of Shadow Attribute Smoke and Mirrors (modified)
Target: The gold bar and the black opal on the altar.
Desired effect: Vaelreth hopes the circlet will allow her to teleport short distances, while she becomes invisible and leaves a perfect decoy of herself in the spot she was standing in before teleporting.

Back at the tower she strode confidently before her judges with a playful smile on her lips, and then... Nothing happened. Vaelreth stood in the middle of the group, just as she was a moment before, one arm on her slender hip and a playful smile on her lips. Kaleth seemed to be getting irritated by Vaelreth's lack of action but the sorceress at his side appeared to know what was going on and whispered in Noble's ear. At that a soft chuckle came from beside one of the huts and Vaelreth appeared out of thin air, casually leaning against the ramshackle wall.

"Shadows themselves can't kill" She spoke softly "But they can easily make you believe that what you see is real and if you believe yourself dead, then you are as such."
7th edition army book:
Games Played: 213
Games Won: 114 (54%)
Games Drawn: 33 (15%)
Games Lost: 66 (31%)

8th Edition army book W/D/L:
Druchii: 36/4/16
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Drainial
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Post by Drainial »

So the Shyish elf was gone, Artemii smiled. Death was a natural part of life but by the twisted machinations of magicians and necromancers the natural cycle could be twisted and broken almost beyond repair, though nature always found a way. The forests would outlast even the eldest necromancer.

As the new challenge was announced Artemii's keen but untutored mind set to thinking how such a thing might be achieved. First things first though, she apparently was expected to take some new things. The rest of the elves were scrambling over the pile like rats on a corpse but Artemii cared much less, after they had moved away she approached. The stones were lifeless, less than dead and utterly useless so far as Artemii was concerned but stones were not the only thing there. Bending down Artemii picked up one of the strangest things she had seen in this already most strange place. It was shaped almost like a small tree branch and from it the life mage could feel a familiar pulse of energy, but it was like nothing else she had seen. Deep red and rough to the touch the branch was not stone nor was it wood. Whatever it was it was the best thing available and Artemii slipped it into her bag.

As she made to leave a guard stopped her and handed her a small bar of yellow metal; Artemii held it between her fingers and examined it closely. It was as dead as the stones, worse in a way since it had been worked by elfish hands and thus was even further from the earthborn state she required. Disdainfully Artemii tossed the gold aside and set out for her alter.

Creating the throne of vines as well as the sheer unnatural nature of this spit of land in its poison lake had tired Artemii and she was not feeling at her best but that would not stop her. As she walked her ingenious mind worked out the components of a spell that ought to do what was required and began preparing for it.

The sun was solidly in the sky by the time she reached her throne, by far the largest single plant in this miserable place it was easy enough to spot. As she approached the vines opened up before her not in response to any spell but simply sensing her intent. Ducking inside the throne continued to anticipate her need and the vines slithered aside leaving her ensconced in a small dome bathed in a green light from where the sun's rays penetrated the thick mass of foliage.

The first thing she did was to draw her dagger and place her staff on the ground. The staff was sung wood with an indentation at the end, a perfect fit for the hilt of her dagger. Slotting it in Artemii knew that it was not a strong enough bond to stay in place for long if she wanted to move the staff. Usually she would bind the two together with strips of rawhide but today was not a day for the mundane. Both sides were indented and into the other end Artemii pressed the red sea branch, hopefully that would be enough to please the city folk.

Now for the magic; going once more to her bag of goodies Artemii found the black rose seedling and placed it next to the staff. Placing a hand on each Artemii began to sing a song of symbiosis that echoed around her and made the vines rustle excitedly. Concentrating intently Artemii asked the rose to grow not in as wild or large a way as the vines but in a much more specific way. As she sang a tendril slowly reached out towards the staff and began to climb around. Hours passed, hours of concentration in which Artemii sometimes closed her hands around the objects and sometimes stood to dance in counterpoint to her singing. The tendrils wrapped themselves around hilt of her dagger fastening them tightly to the staff while at the other end the branch was bound in too.

Many hours later Artemii picked up her new spear for the first time, to her it was beautiful with thorns and black flowers spiralling around it. Now for the next part.

Getting out the Hippogryph egg Artemii stroked its surface and whispered an apology for what she was about to do. For her spell to work she needed great potential for life and living, this egg contained the potential for a life of freedom and power and that was exactly what she needed.

Taking her staff in hand Artemii began to dance; the staff whirled in her hands as she instinctively found the areas where no thorns stuck out. For several minutes she danced, whirled and sang. As her primal tune reached the crescendo the wild one upturned the spear so that the point faced downwards and stabbed. The stony blade lanced through the tough shell and Artemii wept as she felt the life that could have been and smiled as she recognised the good that might come of such power. If she was right then this spear would now be imbued with the power to heal wounds even as they were struck.

Intent to create a spear out of her staff and dagger.
Components used black rose bush seedling and coral (she doesn't know what coral is so she doesn't call it that)
Distanceboth hands touching
Concentration intense
Time9 and 3 hours

Second spell

Intention imbue the staff with earth blood
component used Hippogryph egg.
[/b]Time 6 mins


With her new creation Artemii headed back to the camp; when she finally arrived she watched as some of the other mages showed their new toys before stepping forwards herself. There were unimportant people to practice on and Artemii approached one of them. Levelling the staff, red branch end out, at him Artemii activated the stored spell. Assuming that it had been cast the elf whirled the staff around and gauged a bloody slash down the man's torso with the serrated edge of her spear tip. Eagerly she watched to see if it would knit back together of its own accord.

Artemii will try and cast earth blood on the spear she has tried to make and will test it on a slave. The staff is intended to last with the spell inside for a year and a day but for the spell itself to last six minutes. If she fails in her attempt to make the spear she will try again this time with the bird trap instead of the rose. Likewise if she fails to case earth blood she will try again with the Pegasus egg.

OOC: I couldn't think of a decent reason for Tuesdays to be bad for her since she doesn't really have much concept of days of the week but she is tired and confused so it all balances out and this will still be an off day.
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

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Post by Smiler666 »

Marcelus's attempt to make friends hadn't gone to well last night, all he had really managed to do was spook the big guy and probably burnt more of that particular bridge than he built. He chuckled at his little irony as the nobleman started to relate the day's task to the grouped wizards, more damned making, fire doesn't create it destroys. At least it's a bit less wet this time. And a bit less Monday. Then Kaleth emptied the sack of stones and the blacksmith in Marcelus came alive and he cast an expert eye over the assembled items, then reached in and plucked a small, round meteorite from what remained of the objects and stowed it in the folds of his apron.

Marcelus took the bar of gold that one of thier host's men handed to him (OOC: if the mod allows I will also take the gold Artemii tossed aside) and set off toward the beach he had used for his altar the day before. As he walked he considered the task ahead of him: he had stretched the lengths of his magic and ingenuity in making his glass altar and even that hadn't come out quite right, he ran a hand over his bald head with a wry smile, thought this time at least some of his smithing experience had come into play. Another problem was the materials Marcelus had to use, the cometstone was stone, so would be staying the shape it was no matter how much heat he threw at it; and in his experience gold was a terrible element to forge things out of, sure it was easy to work with and it would conduct whatever magic energies he put into it well, but whatever he made would be heavy and weak which limited him greatly.

Marcelus had just about reached the beach when he made up his mind, rather than travel down to the sands he instead followed the cliffs round until he stood on a stretch of bare rock far above his altar. He sat down and considered about how he would make this spell work, he had pushed the boat out yesterday with a totally new spell, Lycanus's glasscasting he joked to hisself, and it had only just come back. This time he decided he would stick to tried and true.

Rummaging through the many pockets of his apron again Marcelus came back with the cometstone, it was the colour of obsidian but you could barely tell for all the black and brown scorch marks; the gold bar(s); a length of slim steel chain, one of the many titbits that he had a habit of storing on his person and forgetting about; and a tiny, delicate vial. Setting the vial aside for now Marcelus set about polishing up the meteorite with a clean-ish corner of his apron, bringing it's off-black lustre back into view, he then cut a key sigil into one side of the stone - the symbol of the bright order - and carved a small hole in the other, then laid it with the chain and gold.

Marcelus brought the winds of Aqshy to his hands and they began to glow white hot, gripping the gold bar(s) he melted them down with his fiery touch and sculpted it, chanting to Sigmar, Khaine, the winds of magic themselves, and anyone who would listen. Working the metal till it was soft he ran it up the chain, molding it around the steel links with just enough left to form a small socket for the cometstone. Allowing one of his hands to cool Marcelus reached for the vial and, without switching his attention from his metalwork, uncorked it and let the little spark of fire from inside swish free and flutter into it's indentation. Marcelus didn't give the flame chance to escape, clicking the cometstone into place as soon as it settled.

OOC: spell=magic item creation
components=gold, meteorite and living flame
time=9 hours prep + 3 casting
distance=two hands touching
duration=a year

Marcelus stopped chanting and admired his work, it was fairly plain but then again he had always preferred the practical over the pretty and with it's shining, black stone and barely glimpsable internal flickering it would do. Preparing again he readied hisself to imbune the spell he had decided would work best for him into the amulet. Gathering his thoughts and recollecting one of the spells he had heard of in his youth at the bright college, he called again upon the variegated deities and winds for support and aid, placing his hands on his amulet he poured power into the stone and called forth a small cage of fire around it.

OOC: spell=flame cage
components=none
time=5 mins + 1 min
distance=touching again
duration<6 secs

Pleased with what he hoped he had accomplished Marcelus returned to the camp with the gold amulet around his neck and, when his turn came stepped in front of the others. He offered his bow to the slave along with a single arrow and ordered the elf to shoot him, all that was left to do was wait for the slave to take aim and fire, hopefully a cage of flame should form around him and shield him from the arrow. Marcelus was confident he had been successful, but he still crossed his fingers and offered a small prayer all the same.

so the plan is to make an amulet and cast fulminating flame cage on it so that, when it is activated, the fire will defend him from physical attacks and hopefully throw off any magical attacks a ways. And during show and tell he will let a slave shoot at him to prove him, which will end with success or assisted suicide :?
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Post by Calisson »

Second day summary.

Six Candidates had gathered that morning.
The pyromaniac smith.
The half wolverine shade outcast. The naked wolf woman.
The sorceress from the Covens. The other one from the Arks.
The priest of blood.

They were given a challenge for the day: to create a magic object including a precious stone.

-=-=-=

The goldsmith and the assassin were missing.
The assassin was kept by a more serious, definitive business.
For the goldsmith, there was hope for a recovery. The events of the night had exerted too much a strain on his already fragile digestive system and he could not even stand up from his shack, with a strong fever.

-=-=-=

Marcelus Lycanius picked up the meteorite along with two shares of gold.
With the help of his favorite magic, he managed to make successfully an amulet. However in the process, something burnt badly and the acrid smell of sulfuric acid would stick to the amulet and spread slowly. That small nuisance did not bother the bald smith. He knew that it would naturally fade away after a couple of months, a year at most. He looked proudly at his first magic object, wondering if it would be as efficient as hoped for.
<OOC: item gained = amulet of flame cage – 6 seconds enveloping a group of 2-12 at visual distance for 6 seconds, light burns if target remains still, severe burns if moving, burns autoheal after 6 seconds but the fire may ignite inflammable material - no side effect
– in addition, a gold bar was gained, sulfur smell was gained, an unnatural component was lost>IC.


Kairus took the amber stone with the cute insect inside.
He went on hunting some seals on the beach. Hitting a 200 kg seal with an arrow would have been easy, but the wounded animal would still crawl at sea. Running from hidden position and stabbing its head when it is frozen might prove more successful. He used magic to freeze the animal motionless.
The first seal was unaffected and crawled at sea. Missing such an easy spell infuriated Kairus. He tried it on another beast, with as little success. Going angry, he tried another time – and this time, the poor animal could not move at all except its head. The seal stared helplessly at the elf closing with his club. The wide open sad eyes could not tenderize the pitiless hunter who knocked down ferociously his staff on the poor animal’s head.
Kairus brought back the carcass to the village. Then he brought the hide to his place, at a bare two hours’ run. He seemed really not to realize that his strength was not as it used to be.
In the shadows of the magnificent pine trees that only him could see, he created his first magic item: a leather armor, which would – hopefully – fend off any adverse spell cast on him. He did not realize immediately, but in the process, his ear-drums cracked and bled, severely damaged. They would heal ultimately, but that might take months.
<OOC: item gained = Leather armor providing +2 bonus till midnight whenever there is a spell to resist and the caster requires it. No side effect to notice.
Loss 30dB of hearing. >IC


Artemii selected the fascinating coral branch but refuted the worthless gold bar.
In her alcove, she realized her long standing dream: to reunite in a single spear her staff and her dagger. At the same time, she instilled in the instrument of death its own antidote: it would help the bearer to regenerate. According to her aesthetics, it was a masterpiece, with its black roses sculpted all around, and this strange bit of red wood-stone. The spear even exhaled the perfume of flowers. She knew that she could select every day which flower would suit best her mood.
Alas! she had to go back to the outer world which disgusted her more and more. Casting the spell left a sour taste in her mouth. She could not help but to spit it away all the time. Nevertheless, the bad taste would come back quite soon.
<OOC: item gained = spear. Regen for 6 minutes, will heal as good as 6 days’ rest. Nice floral smell as long as wished, till something accomplished.
- gained a bad taste on the mouth which makes her spit all the time
Lost one mundane component and one precious one – I switched them, the precious component to the hardest spell.>IC


Vaelreth Velkyn took the opal.
She came to her cavern and first of all, made back her shadows throne. When it first failed, she felt as helpless as a little girl. Fortunately, the second attempt worked fine and gave her back a strong mental.
She had to! Creating a magic object was hard and painful. So painful that not only it missed but she suffered from sporadic spasms. Because of these spasms, she had to start from the beginning the lengthy spell a second time, a third time, a fourth time, always interrupted by spasms. With an incredible act of will, despite the time already elapsed, she managed to finally cast her spell and as a result, a circlet with the opal could be worn. She was exhausted. Still, there was an ultimate spell to cast, that the circlet would learn for good. It was barely cast, but that was enough. However, she knew that the sense of exhaustion would appear again every time she would use the item.
<OOC: item gained = Circlet of steed of shadows. Range = sight, can be done several times during 6 min, exhaustion follows for 45 min.
Gained a sporadic spasms preventing (50%) concentration for more than 1 hour.>IC


Kaladeth picked up the carbuncle.
She went on her altar in the mountain and went on to create her first magic object. It would be a ring. That was hard. Very hard. She took offense against this island, the competition, all the other Candidates, this arrogant nobleman. She hated them, they would learn soon who she was. She was still in that mood when she called for a demon to inhabit the jewel. The demon told her that with her mood, he would better enter the ring as soon as possible. Angrily, she hurled the ring on one of the altar's stones. That did not prevent the spell to be cast, but the ring resonated loudly, with a sound in accordance with its new size. Although its apparent size was a small ring, innerly it had become as wide as was necessary to hold the demon who was to inhabit it from now on. Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong… It sounded like a tocsin and would stop only after twelve hits in a row in the middle of the night. That did not help to soften her mood.
<OOC: item gained = ring, making deep wounds at 2-12 persons until midnight, at visual distance; bells ringing for same duration
Gained the legendary mood of a mother in law>IC


Metarchis Avax took the fossil of a giant shark tooth which reminded him of Khaine.
In the vicinity of his own made cauldron of blood, he created some kind of small buckler and invested it with a specific protection from Khaine. He smiled at his new toy, which was the Khainexmas gift he always had dreamed of. He was living his youth’s dreams! He was young forever, rejuvenated like a Matriarch!
<OOC: item gained = small wooden shield, providing 5+WS upon command till midnight, making the bearer sweating
Also, gained a childish mood>IC

-=-=-=

The night was already installed when most of the Candidates gathered back in front of the tower. Fortunately, the rain had ceased. Many guards were providing ample light with their torches, in addition to the large fire where cuts of seal were cooked and distributed to them all. The assembly was led by Kaleth and the mysterious Sorceress.

One after another, each of the Candidates occupied the center of the ring made by the assembly.
The Candidate provided the explanation about why he had chosen his specific stone.
Then a bounded slave was pushed inside the circle. As the assembly made a wide room, the Candidate showed them the power of his newly made magic object.

-=-=-=

Marcelus Lycanius showed a beautiful gold jewel, unfortunately smelling sulfur acid.
The bald Smith asked a slave to shoot him at distance. The slave raised his bow and suddenly took fire along with his equipment. He ran screaming and was promptly shot by a couple of bolts.
-
Kairus wore an armor made of beautifully carved leather, the amber stone in the middle.
The shade outcast decided to prove the efficiency of the armor by casting a magic missile on himself, some kind of small projectile swarm of snapping crows. The missile missed, the crows burrowed into the soil, harming nobody except the Mage’s self-esteem. Irritated by the loud laughs, he tried again. This time, the crows made a perfect circle and aimed directly towards his heart. At the last moment, the amber in the armor twinkled and the crows, surprised, avoided the Mage and flew away.
The Beast mage crossed the mocking gaze of the supreme sorceress. He looked down, turning away the unspoken challenge that she would try a similar trick on him.
-
The arrival of Kaladeth could not be missed by anyone except Kairus and Metarchis. The corsair sorceress was accompanied by the faded echoes of a loud bell which seemed never to stop. She was obviously pissed off by the noise.
When asked to show her trick, she aggressively raised her hand and shouted the name of a demon. A sort of missile departed the ring towards a group of slaves as the sound of bells start to ring ragingly like a daemonic carillon. Four slaves were hit. Three of them were projected on the ground, one unconscious, two shouting like slaughtered pigs. In the midst of cheers, laughs and bells mockery songs, Kaladeth yelled at the crowd, threatening them all. The slaves would have recovered before the end of the night, were not several guards clubbing them to coma. She left as a fury.
-
Artemii came back spitting all around. However, the daughter of nature smelled like hyacinths. For both reasons and for respect, she had a void area around her.
The wolf woman asked to see one of the wounded slaves. The slave reluctantly accepted to place his hands on the weird but supremely elegant spear. Soon a smell of invisible lilies brought peace and love to the crowd. Even the slave smiled, as his wounds were healing quickly.
-
Metarchis Avax provided his small shield to a shivery female slave. Taking his dagger, the priest of blood aimed at her at close distance. The thrown dagger was slightly offset just before hitting its target, and only cut the slave’s arm. The large tooth in the buckler seemed to shine in the night. The crowd was not impressed. A second dagger throw was more accurate, towards the chest. The slave’s skin was shining with sweat. And the chest was hit indeed. Groans in the crowd indicated that someone had won a bet. Nodding his head, the Khainite ordered You! Don’t move! and gave another try. The dagger missed obviously the target and laughs and mockeries could be heard. He denied: She moved, she’s cheating! but the crowd booed and hissed. On the forth try, the dagger was thrown for a perfect one-blow-kill between the eyes. The slave shouted and the whole crowd stared in silence. Did the buckler move? They could swear it didn’t. But the dagger nevertheless bounced and fell flat. The slave was not hurt the slightest, but she fainted all the same. The crowd was divided, uncertain to boo or cheer. Yessss! he laughed, dancing his victory.
-
Arriving very late, Vaelreth Velkyn appeared on the right of Kaleth and required a slave. One was brought by force on his left. The Covens sorceress took a deep breath, put her hair back and… nothing happened. Kaleth examined the slave on his right, who had protected his head in a reflex, but he wasn’t hurt. Vaelreth smiled, raised her head swiftly and… again, nothing happened. The slave was still on Kaleth’s left, raising his palms in disarray. Let him go! she said. The slave moved away on Kaleth’s right, not daring to walk in front of the Noble. The puzzled crowd started booing and hissing, while the smiling Supreme Sorceress whispered something at Kaleth’s ear.

-=-=-

All of them had now shown their new powers. Who failed to be convincing?
Everyone could state his opinion. None dared to talk aloud.
It was now time to conclude the gathering.

Kaleth raised his arms.
Tomorrow, three of you will try to best the three other ones.
There are six of you at present. No need for a night in the pit.
Rest and we will reconvene tomorrow.


-=-=-=

Some Candidates went directly to their shack. Others were too nervous to try to sleep and remained around, anguished to chat with someone who would understand their fate.

<OOC: 3rd day to come pretty soon.>
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Post by Calisson »

The Magic Reality Show (TMRS) – Third challenge

Gathering in front of the tower after a good night's rest, there were the six remaining Candidates. The day was sunny, for a change.

Kaleth arrived with his escort.
Today is Wednesday.
Today, you have to demonstrate your ability to work in group, and coordinate your actions.
One group will have a quest in the East, the other group in the West.


<OOC: Wednesday is inauspicious for nobody and dedicated for Vaelreth Velkyn.

This day will be a group RPG. It will be played like a normal RPG with two groups.

Two teams of three.

The quest will be told only when the groups are formed, one "West" and one "East".
>IC.

Go ahead! Make two groups.
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Post by Drainial »

Work together, Artemii didn't really know what to make of that. In all her life the closest she had ever come to working with anybody was leading them through her forest and even that was rare. Still if she ever wanted to see her home again she would have to abide by the rules of the game.

One of the elves stood out as one she could work with happily enough, the forest dweller was clear to see in his rustic gear made all the plainer by his new seal skin armour. Scraping her tongue along her teeth Artemii spat out a wad of foulness in the full knowledge that the taste of bile would return all too soon. Unconscious of breaking any social norms she stepped nearer to Kairus
"Beast mage, shall we hunt?" perhaps another would have to join the two of them but with those that remained she felt no affinity. She could work alongside them at need but any would do.

Proposes making a team with Kairus, I am sure we (assuming Kinslayer says yes) would welcome a third.
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Post by Kinslayer »

Kairus moved cautiously into the group of Mages that waited in front of the iron tyrant. Nobody had been told to vote the night before, and apparently nobody had spent the night in the pit. Kairus was confused, but when he realised the Metal Mage was no longer present, he concluded that there should be six remaining at this point, and six there were. He moved into the crowd, standing between but slightly behind Artemii and Vaelreth. He listened to the iron tyrant give out his next set of commands, and then shuffled awkwardly. So, today we are to work in threes? I for one trust nobody here, so perhaps I will have to consider what lores of Magic best complement Ghur?

Instinctively, Kairus moved off with Artemii as the six of them split into a wider circle to discuss or decide on their groupings. He turned to her closely and whispered,

"If I may, I'd rather the powers of nature stick together. The real question is, what best complements and completes our force?

Aqshy? I don't think so, but sometimes opposites attract.
Bloodlust of Khaine? Having him around could be dangerous.
Ulgu? The darkness works in mysterious ways, but at least her day is blessed for her.
Dhar? Those ominous tolling bells will give me a headache. What do you think?
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Post by Drainial »

The beast mage seemed to accept her offer and moving away began to talk about who might make a good third. His points were valid and Artemii considered the others in turn.

"Life may heal and guard against harm, Ghur may strengthen the hand and body and conjure the beast within. Perhaps we would be well complemented by one with a talent for the darker gifts of destruction. I have no trust of fire, perhaps the Dhar wielder?"
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