The Island of Thain
A Neverwinter Nights Persistent World
| Home | FAQ | Forum | News |

 

Welcome
Username:

Password:


Remember me

[ ]
[ ]
Chatbox
You must be logged in to post comments on this site - please either log in or if you are not registered click here to signup


Rodgr Thunderguts
03:00:52 PM 10/14/19
Soooo much turkey.... need a nap haha!

archgrendel
08:59:27 AM 10/14/19
And to the others who want to celebrate from afar!

archgrendel
08:58:24 AM 10/14/19
Happy Canadian Thanksgiving to the Canadian Thainites !

scratch_flannigan
12:30:36 PM 10/13/19
Nature Night begins in about 1.5 hours from the time of this post. That will be 2pm CDT (GMT -5).
Please check page 1 of the Nature Night: Phase 4 thread to see the map to the Wild Grove where we meet !

I will be on as Dauken. Please shoot me a tell if you have questions !

Luke
10:44:10 PM 10/10/19
Heh heh heh heh heh! Yeah yeah!

Kagali
03:59:08 PM 10/10/19
Vladislav! Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me...no more!
*Is impaled*

Luke
02:04:53 PM 10/10/19
Donít hurt me, no more!!heart

Shade
12:31:41 PM 10/10/19
Baby don't hurt me

Luke
11:41:45 AM 10/10/19
What is love?

Cuchuwyn
10:17:58 AM 10/10/19
Necro night will be starting in a little under 3 hours! Hope to see folks there!



Forums
The Island of Thain :: Forums :: Thain :: In Character Discussion
 
<< Previous thread | Next thread >>
Relic of Ages Past
Go to page       >>  
Moderators: The Site Master, Squidget, Bonesly, Cuchuwyn, Ogreman007, Vaedryan, Dogbert, Inq_Damocles, Falkala, jewwe, scratch_flannigan, Tuckerr99, Warlord Kro, ChaoticDrow, Alanonas
Author Post
Varnel
09:19:36 PM 07/29/15

Registered Member #872
Joined: 08:19:18 PM 09/28/06
Location: Vancouver, BC, Canada
Posts: 2238
Dratsab growled. It was just one tryst! ONE! By the heat of the fifth ring of hell she was delicious. He'd savored every hour of torturous play from the Marrssavilus, a most tantalizing succubus. So even to this day, a hundred years later, he weighed the value of the pleasure of that one tryst against the eternal punishment of this work - receiving, sorting, filing, elevating or trashing the inane reports of lesser beings; rats, crows, the like. He didn't know! If it wasn't for her deception, her lies! She said she was lonely and wanted attention and she'd welcomed his advances too easily. Too easily was he caught playing with the Master Archivist's personal body slave when he was supposed to be gone! Surely there was a plot he missed somewhere. How was he to be the one to be the one cursed so and serving punishment for gods knows how long in this hole?

His thoughts drifted as he reached for another piece of junk. His eyes fell on the sheet of parchment that came to fill his hand while sitting atop the pile of scraps, refuse, and junk used to pass along 'intelligence' through to the archives. What 'intelligence' could a rat bring!? He growled again as he tossed the parchment. Maybe she was still worth...

As the parchment fluttered away towards the depths of the refuse pile, the realization smacked him. A full sheet of tattered but otherwise whole parchment; a rare and unusual find.

The imp hurriedly scrambled over and down the massive the pile of useless junk his perch was atop and flailed at the drifting parchment. He lept in the dim light of his storehouse room at the page in the air and snatched the rare find.

He reexamined the now crumpled parchment. It was written in common tongue and marked with the impression of a Collector's insignia... he read deeper past the useless greeting and blathering of the human writer and to the heart of the text. A smirk crossed his crooked and cragged lips - redemption at last! He thanked whatever fortune brought him an escape from this worthless pile he'd landed in. Someone else would end up here for letting this report pass unnoticed and potentially lost. Perhaps a lager sin than his.

He clamored over and through his many piles to deliver the parchment; the rest of this heap be damned for the useless chitterings of rats. For something this rich... would he risk everything! He'd go past the Overseer, the Acolytes.. Perhaps.... Should he take this to the Master Archivist himself? Would he reach too far? Fortune favors the bold!

Dratsab wormed his way through the crags and cracks of the castle ruins towards the castle proper. Filthy and naked but for his scrap of loincloth, granted not to spare his dignity but to spare others from viewing the horror of the full extent of his punishment, he made his way up from the depths of the dungeons and storehouse of the black spired mountain keep. Through storm drains, back passages, and servant corridors, he strove to avoid notice. There was nowhere to hide the rolled parchment on his person, so he ducked through the passages to the secret entrance Marrssavilus had him use that fateful night to sneak into the the Master Archivist's study.

The silhouette of a man crouched over a book at the writing desk filled the Dratsab's view as he slid the bookcase open a crack. The grinding of the stone wall that formed the back of the bookcase as it slid on the long neglected steel chase beneath did nothing to help his attempt at a stealthy entrance. Without even moving, the deep, gravel voice grumbled from the chair, the magnifying glass still pressed to the forehead of the figure at the desk. If he felt fear at the unannounced opening of a secret entrance few survived to know about, he did not show it. Dratsab on the other hand shivered with excitement and fear combined. A hundred years had passed since he'd witnessed the rage of the Master Archivist. While common sense would advise him to avoid all contact with the mage and any grudge he may recall of the man that once held an office in trust, the chance to regain prestige was too great an opportunity to let pass.

"In or out... "

Dratsab paled and hesitantly slid the passage door further open and pressed through. he hated this form... an imp.. of all forms to curse a man with, to shame him in the form of an imp. He prayed for the day his curse would be lifted. He wished he could enter this space in the once resplendent silk robes his former office accorded yet the fact remained that in this form he couldn't even square up his shoulders and stand presentable. Knob kneed, hunched and toothy, Dratsab shuffled forward in approach to the desk.

"Great Master, Exalted One.. I bring news.. a finding!" He hated the way his voice was altered. It sounded nothing like the clear baritone he once boasted. Now instead he was left with a nasal, throat constricted wheeze of a voice that cracked and wheezed.

"Leave it there... and begone" The silhouette pointed a finger at a receiving tray for a breath of a moment before returning to his glass and study.

Dratsab's eyes widened. Not even a hint of recognition. "but Master! It is fou.." Dratsab began to explain. "BEGONE! and take your stench with you to where you belong."

The tray flashed a blue aura as the parchment was laid to rest on the receiving tray. Dratsab recognized the cleansing power of the chirergon's tray. His Master's distaste for all things foreign included the most minute traces of filth. A collector, yes. yet nothing would touch his skin that wasn't cleansed of poisons, disease, and ill magic.

The master sniffed and grunted in distaste for the stench Dratsab carried with him yet deigned him insignificant enough to speak with him again. Hopes dashed, he left by the way he came, slid the door shut and heard the locks click. But instead of returning down, Dratsab climbed to the tower peak. There was now no hope for redemption and rather than submit to an eternity of sorting back on his pile. Dratsab threw himself over the edge of the peaked tower window in despair. Yet as he fell, an red-orange aura of magic surrounded him before a brief darkness covered him and the sense of falling ended.

A moment passed before his senses returned and he looked around. He sat once again atop the pile of junk amidst the other piles he'd left only hours before. A new, clean parchment lay on his lap that simply read "None leave my service without my dismissal". It was unsigned but Dratsab needed no further clarification. The Master Archivist did recognize, did know who brought the message, did hold a grudge, and would forever hold the curse.

A long wail left the dungeon sorting rooms...

***

A hidden grin had crept across the Master Archivist's face as he was made aware of the ward that had triggered from the secret passageway. It had grown a slight bit upon the awareness that the retention ward had too been triggered. He was admittedly delighted at the long suffering inflicted on his former research acolyte for a seemingly minor sin. Yet control must be managed and the fear instilled by the reactive punishment for minor distraction at his expense had proven effective amongst the remainder. Efforts had since redoubled to seek out the lost artifacts and a steady stream of rumors, whispers, and random utterings had made its way to the dark mountainous keep.

The Master Archivist leaned back from his magnifying glass. The shard was interesting and contained an ancient magic. But still it was only a shard and likely useless for anything truly grand. Placing it back into the jar, the Master Archivist fit the stopper and looked over to the receiving tray. The fool... what had such importance for him to risk further punishment? Satisfied at the purifying magics work was complete yet still suspicious, the he reached over and plucked the parchment up with a pair of tongs and rolled it out onto the desk where he sat.

The sigil was real and carried the trace aura of a Collector, that was as expected. Though unsigned as practice, the informality and prose of the letter spoke of one of his traveling agents, a Picker, one who looks through old collection of the aged and eccentric looking for artifacts hidden in plain sight. Mortals... what did they know of the Age of Power? He sighed, resigned to the present lack of understanding the world held, and read further. Intrigued he read further with eyebrows slightly raised.

The Master Archivist picked up a small bell and rang it. A diminutive creature quickly entered the study and bowed beside the desk.

"Fetch the Collector Jachin" He commanded and the creature ran off with a quick nod.

[ Edited 09:22:45 PM 07/29/15 ]

Characters:

Varnel Thigbin - Cleric & Healer

Ally: "Varnel is so dreamy! What girl in their right mind wouldn't have a crush?!"
Bonesly: It's all in how the tea ceremony is executed... for Varnel, dreaminess ensues. *this based on the number of female chars remarking on how wonderful Varnel's tea is... not just any tea*
Back to top
Payne
11:51:15 AM 08/05/15
EXCELSIOR!


Registered Member #613
Joined: 04:18:34 PM 09/09/05
Location: Great White North eh...
Posts: 6762



Jachin knelt shirtless in one of the Castles towers before the multi armed statue. His face was serene as he meditated. It has been countless years since he was in the Order, but the lessons were still firmly in his daily rituals.





Marrssavilus sat upon the large bed, looking beautiful, but bored. The succubus had come hoping that the man would fall to her seductions, but as every time before, she failed. It was a blow to her ego that any man, especially a human, could refuse her. So this had become her new game, her obsession. She will find his weakness, eventually. But for now she had to sit and wait for him to even notice her.

She stretched out, the movement calculated to extenuate her curves, and admittedly the moan and shifting of sheets were an attempt to break the man's resolve, but that too failed. She sighed and considered just leaving, but a movement in the corner of her eyes banished that thought.

One, then four, dark shapes emerged from the shadows. They were all hooded and armed, and dangerously silent. She considered warning Jachin, but this would teach him to refuse her. So instead she laid back and smiled, as she prepared to watch the show.

Jachins head tilted to the side, the first movement the succubus saw him make in hours. This made her smile wider, at least this wasn't going to be a boring slaughter. As he rose to his feet, so did she in expectation. When his hands reached for the Kama's at the feet of the idol, her nostrils flared in sudden excitement.

Looking to the assassins, Jachin nodded once. The gesture one of acceptance, or perhaps it was arrogance, that even outnumbered, he was giving -them- permission to begin. The forms lunged at once, blades upraised and sweeping to deal the death blows.

Jachins Kama's were a blur of speed. Marrssavilus exhaled as she marveled at the display, she had witnessed his speed many times when he wielded those twin blades, and it never got old. More it was why she chose him to be her next conquest, if the damned man would ever give in.

Parried swords turned to cries of anguish as the hooked blades tore at the attacker to his left. His attack carried on without hesitation, and in the first quick moments of the battle, two had already fallen. The third pressed, but the whirlwind of steel had him backpedaling. The fourth stopped and looked to the succubus as if for help, she stuck her tongue out at him and giggled.

When the fourth looked back, Jachin stood over the body of the third and was waiting for him with a perfectly impassive look. The two just looked at each other for a prolonged moment, then they began to circle the bodies as they measured each other up. The build up was delicious for the Succubus, and she moved to kneel at the edge of the bed with parted lips as her breathing had sped.

Kama's started to swirl in a pattern around Jachin, the movement to loosen his arms but too, to mesmerize the fourth assassin. And it seemed to be working, at least until the Succubus started to get frustrated her appetite for blood and death was being delayed.

"Kill him" She purred, perhaps in an offer of reward to the assassin if he succeeded. And either succeeding, or just wanting to complete his task, the fourth charged in. His blade connected with the Kama in Jachins left hand, then it suddenly flew from the man's hand as Jachin flicked his wrist. The Kama in the right flicked out, the hooked blade aimed toward the man's neck and arched in.

"The Master Archivist has beckoned you" Came a voice from the doorway of the large room.

Jachins Kama stopped a hairs breadth from the assassins skin, then fell away as he turned to address the acolyte. He nodded his understanding, then moved to the shrine to gather his trademark long black jacket.

Marrssavilus shrank back at the name mentioned, but her eyes were still wide in need. "What of that one?" her taloned finger was pointing to the fourth assassin.

Jachin turned to address her, then the man who stood shaken and stunned that he was still alive. "Have him" he hung his blades from his belt, pulled the jacket over his shoulders and buttoned the black fabric to cover the tattoo covering his chest.





He never gave the succubus or her new prey a second look as he strode purposefully to the acolyte, and followed her out the door. Though, as he traveled down the dark corridor, he allowed a smile as the man's cries followed his steps.

Corlupi's muse since 2015.
[ image disabled ]

Riggs - The Man in Black Riggs Theme Song
Vaurin - The Taaldarax of the 'Great Game'
Paydon - Thayan Red Memoirs
Tyson - Paladin of Sune
Slagg - Chosen Priest of Wa'i'lanai
Sqwar - High Priest of Squar'Kanith
Caustin - 'Feywood Elf'
Jachin - Agent of the 'Collective'
Back to top
Varnel
11:14:22 PM 08/10/15

Registered Member #872
Joined: 08:19:18 PM 09/28/06
Location: Vancouver, BC, Canada
Posts: 2238
Rising to the bookcase that covered the length and height of the wall, to the shelf where he kept journals of his ancient searches, the Master Archivist brought the letter still entranced by the new lead in perhaps one of the longest of his searches. He pulled down the thick tome and brought it to a long black trestle table, its polished surface glimmering with the reflection of the study's candle light. Folding it gently open with aged fingers, The Archivist began to correlate the new information with the old, consulting sketches, and glancing at the globe he kept near the shelf.

Three hours had past when Jachin entered unannounced and knelt in the center of the study. The study itself was grand with tables and desks covered in rare and precious artifacts from places known and unknown. A library to rival any Lord's in the realm surrounded the rooms walls and fine carpets covered a small dais.

Not looking up from the tome or the letter the Master Archivist made him wait. Were Jachin of higher station, the silence would border on rudeness but Jachin was simply a Collector, a servant with a set of skills that were unique to say the least, dangerous and deadly to say more. A Collector was a discoverer of hidden truths, a purposeful seeker of rare and powerful objects. Leads such as these were given to these gifted and ever loyal agents. Yet as a servant, Jachin would wait until his Master spoke. His reputation had preceded his hire and oath of fealty to the Collective and the Master Archivist exploited Jachin's sense of duty. It drove him to extraordinary tasks of great risk to being back even the oddest and obscure artifact he desired. He was trustworthy and loyal, a rare trait, but proven.

The Master Archivist scribbled the name of a place on a note and held it out for Jachin to take. "The Conduit has been there. Prove it." He commanded.

"What do you have?" Jachin tested. He knew bounds but a new search needed some basis. To seek blindly was difficult; rewarding but most difficult.

"I have ... much. You are to prove what I have" replied the Archivist.

"Why not send the dragons to purge the place as we have before?" Jachin tested. A lone mission was risky and expensive. Bribes, travel, mercenaries. Much could go wrong. Why not use the force of the Collective?

"This island has dragons" he grumbled.

"The Krakken?" Jachin pushed, perhaps too far.

The Master Archivist lifted his head and stared black eyes and a stern look at Jachin "It holds an Elder Blue and more... The Conduit is there... Prove it, Jachin. That is your task. Push further and I may choose another."

"Consider me ready to go" Jachin replied, thankful he was still kneeling though not of fear - there was little he feared. No, the loss of a finding and to be passed over for an enviably difficult task was sobering. No one would take this from him.

The Master Archivist turned back to his tome and gave Jachin a dismissal wave of his hand.

[ Edited 11:15:49 PM 08/10/15 ]

Characters:

Varnel Thigbin - Cleric & Healer

Ally: "Varnel is so dreamy! What girl in their right mind wouldn't have a crush?!"
Bonesly: It's all in how the tea ceremony is executed... for Varnel, dreaminess ensues. *this based on the number of female chars remarking on how wonderful Varnel's tea is... not just any tea*
Back to top
Payne
04:07:29 PM 08/11/15
EXCELSIOR!


Registered Member #613
Joined: 04:18:34 PM 09/09/05
Location: Great White North eh...
Posts: 6762
Jachin strode from the Masters room and closed the door behind him. There he stood, silent and unmoving as he considered this new task. The Master had sent him on countless missions before, some for the Conduits hunt, often relics of a different power. But in every mission before this, he had a dossier, a lead to go on. This, was something completely different.

For some reason the Master was sending the Collector with a blank slate, one that Jachin had to fill in himself. This gave him pause, it was so out of the ordinary that he had to consider where to even begin. His steps started slowly as he descended the spiraling staircase to the Castles lower levels, then picked up speed as he decided he would gather his supplies.

The halls of the Keep were abuzz with activity. This was nothing new, but perhaps word had traveled that the Master had activated Jachin once again. The Collector Jachin had a bit of a reputation for getting the jobs that awoke the Collectives vast resources. If the 'Multi-Armed' one, as he was often called, was involved in something, chances were it would end with excitement.

Jachin did not care for this reputation, he considered himself a refined man. His work was specialized, he completed his tasks quietly if he could, but he was not against ruthless efficiency if that was not an option. Though, he would privately admit he enjoyed how the sea of 'Monsters' would part like a wave for him to pass through one hall to the next.

Devils, Demons, Blood Fiends, beings who encompassed evil and darkness would move for him. Some out of fear, most, like Jachin, respected the Collective as a whole. The Collective was a machine that was ever moving, ever growing. No one, wanted to be accused or responsible for it ever grinding to a halt.

Jachin eventually entered the wing of the Castle devoted to Necromancy. It was, typically, a place of dread to all who entered it. Shapes moved endlessly, and not all those shapes were entirely visible. The Dead and those still living were everywhere, here one was as likely to find a Necromancer reading a tome, as a full Lich or a simple Ghast passing through stone walls.

He had to pause at a sound when he was deep within the haunted halls, a sound he had not heard before. The chanting was common, but this sound was a rhythmic wave that made his chest ache. Opening a door the color of onyx, he peered within. Inside the vault like room was a sight that made even one as well traveled as he, suck in his breath.

[ image disabled ]

Countless Spirits moaned and writhed as the Priests and Wizards coaxed them to remain in the massive hall. The entities clearly did not want to be forced to this gathering, some stood serene and watchful, as the others tore at the wards binding them. Jachin had never seen such a mass of spirits in one place as this before, and could only marvel at the reason.

But, this was a distraction, so closing the heavy door, he left to enter the inner depths of the 'Dead Wing' to gather his first, resource.


[ Edited 04:14:42 PM 08/11/15 ]

Corlupi's muse since 2015.
[ image disabled ]

Riggs - The Man in Black Riggs Theme Song
Vaurin - The Taaldarax of the 'Great Game'
Paydon - Thayan Red Memoirs
Tyson - Paladin of Sune
Slagg - Chosen Priest of Wa'i'lanai
Sqwar - High Priest of Squar'Kanith
Caustin - 'Feywood Elf'
Jachin - Agent of the 'Collective'
Back to top
Payne
05:21:27 PM 08/12/15
EXCELSIOR!


Registered Member #613
Joined: 04:18:34 PM 09/09/05
Location: Great White North eh...
Posts: 6762
The lowest depths of the castles "Dead Wing" was a one Jachin despised entering. While he had not yet investigated it, he felt as if he lost a few years of his lifespan each time he walked the foul halls. He was not a squeamish man, but in this place, his eyes never settled on any shape too long.

When forced too, either to bypass some dripping ghoul, or await a Necromancer to finish reanimating some grotesque mass, he was quick to keep moving. He was not opposed to the rituals, and admittedly he utilized many of the creations in this dark place. The simple truth was, he did not like the reminder of death.

He'd lived far too long for a 'simple human' as it was, a fortunate side effect of a relic he once obtained for the Master. But he was not immortal, and this place was what could very well be his future when he shuffled off his mortal shell.

In the center of the chamber, he paused to await his notice by the being before him.

Jachin only knew this one by the title of "The Chaplain'. A Cleric to some dark god, the Chaplain was brought to the Collective to run the Dead Wing. Many stories surrounded this black figure, yet only the Master himself knew who the Chaplain worshipped.

The figure was standing over his black altar, either in silent prayer or consulting the ancient tome opened upon it. His back was to him, so when the voice spoke, grating and seemed to sound more in his head than fill his ears, Jachin stiffened in reflex.

"What do you seek, Collector?"

Jachin dipped his head to the priests back in respect, a gesture likely wasted, but with this one you never really knew. "A warrior" was his curt reply. He did not bother with any other formalities, nor go into any depth with his request. Once you start that with the Chaplain, you could spent hours placing your 'order'.

[ image disabled ]

The Chaplain turned and raised the skulls that hung from the chain. Jachin always felt this was all for show, but the 'claim' was that the Priest could sense your future, and pick the best undead to suit that path. It was nonsense as far as Jachin was concerned, but then, the Chaplain had yet failed him. So he would wait until the empty eye sockets finished their 'visions', then he can get the hells out of here.

The skulls finally dropped, and the Chaplain turned away to loom back over the Altar. "Try and bring this one back." was the almost amusing request.

Jachin couldn't help but grin at the words, and yes, admit he did seem to 'lose' the Chaplains creations all too often. "I'll do my best, but it would help if they were more resilient."

The Chaplain could only chuckle, and Jachin found himself secretly regretting he said the words. The laugh was dark, foreboding, a laugh he was quite sure he will have difficulty forgetting. "You'll find this one, fitting. Goodbye, Collector"

Turning to see what gruesome creature the Chaplain summoned for him this time, Jachin started to frown as he saw...nothing. His eyes panned the room looking for any movement, any sound, anything. He started to turn back to the Chaplain, when he finally heard it.

The steps were heavy as if whatever came, was large, or in plated boots. The shadow cast by some distant torchlight, grew larger and larger as the 'thing' came nearer. When the undead finally came into view, Jachin's grin started to form wide.

That is, it started too. That grin vanished in a heartbeat, as the face of the hulking form, smiled back at him

[ image disabled ]


Corlupi's muse since 2015.
[ image disabled ]

Riggs - The Man in Black Riggs Theme Song
Vaurin - The Taaldarax of the 'Great Game'
Paydon - Thayan Red Memoirs
Tyson - Paladin of Sune
Slagg - Chosen Priest of Wa'i'lanai
Sqwar - High Priest of Squar'Kanith
Caustin - 'Feywood Elf'
Jachin - Agent of the 'Collective'
Back to top
Varnel
11:42:01 PM 08/14/15

Registered Member #872
Joined: 08:19:18 PM 09/28/06
Location: Vancouver, BC, Canada
Posts: 2238
Smokey incense filled the hollowed stone room where the Master Archivist knelt before a turned mottled black marble bowl. The water was still in the quite of the Archivists contemplations, the room built to stand no movement, no vibrations, no external influence from the movements within the castle or surroundings. Precious gem and stone Inlays of runes and wards lined the roof, walls, and floor - this place was sacred.

The scrying room was still as the Archivist sat on a reed mat, his only isolation from the cold, hard surface of the stone. Once he could sit indefinitely in wait for a sign, but he was younger then and not so prone to the effects of his surroundings. Eyes focused on a rune of concentration, the Master Archivist rolled through his memory the leads and searches for the Conduit.

As the mists of his mind cleared, he focused on the Conduit, the source of his search. By all descriptions he'd found, the hand length thick, opened tome sized disc of stone took shape in his mind. Its edges chipped and worn with ancient age, its center a hole the size of a large apple. The etchings, barely perceptible by the naked eye, had the appearance of what could be runes scattered across the four faces. He grinned slightly in the remembrance of the efforts it took to discern the mechanations of how it worked. To discover the inner workings of the disc and how to move the etchings, brilliantly visible under careful adaptations of one's vision, around the stone. It was nearly maddening and it had taken nearly a century of this plane's time to discern it, but he believed he had figured it out. This was no toy, not simple puzzle box - this was a grand magicians puzzle. Perhaps his last hope to return....

He had to maintain focus. He shook his head gently, re-centered, and settled his mind on the search. The Conduit, an item created and its history lost to the ravages of time. A piece found and lost a hundred times by others of great power before he'd discovered its presence and used it's finding to search for understanding of the vastness of the planar realms. Misfortune and greed be damned. The luxury afforded to one with the power and ability to traverse all planes of existence had captured the allure of not only himself, but one that sought to achieve station, to be a king, to be a god. Why those granted with much power always sought to lord and exert their power over others was beyond his understanding. He'd researched enough of the whole of creation and its planes to comprehend that none could rule for long, no one powerful being could contain the whole under his thumb. Yet there were still those misguided, short sighted persons blinded by their own ambition and greed who sought to gain position.

It was just one like that, a third son prince-magician, that led to a failing that would change everything. While in the employ of a king two millennia past, the Master Archivist stumbled upon a lead that could bring him the Conduit. Functioning as a patroned mage to a king of vast wealth and resources, resources and connections much coveted by The Archivist, he'd made it known that while he would do the king's bidding in tutoring his son in the arts of magic, his sole purpose was to add to the kings treasure house with rare and powerful relics from around the lands. Having enticed the king with some lesser important finds from his own collection as proof of his ability and talent for searching, the king was most amenable to the Archivist's odd requests and long times away in the hunt for another object of power or intrigue. None knew his true searches were for the Conduit, save the one mistake of leaving his, then thinner, collection of information on the Conduit more accessible than desired.

The prince-magician's tutelage included his trailing along after the Archivist, growing his knowledge of the world outside kingdom walls. In time, the prince-magician came to engender the trust of the Archivist and was allowed more freedom to explore and study the volumes of information the Archivist had gathered. Eager to please his Master and teacher, the prince-magician devoured the knowledge found, spending hours in study and practice until he came upon the research of the planes. Having found a glimpse of the vastness that lay beyond the mortal realm, the prince-magician dropped all other endeavors and focused on planar magic. Little did the Archivist understand back then what the prince-magician was doing until the dark brooding began to show itself. The murmurings of distrust and envy, malice and hate grew prevalent and he grew darker. Drawn by the lust of power and finding it in the power of Shadow and Death, the prince-magician secluded himself and immersed himself in the studies the cold dark touch the Shadow brings.

Ambition and greed. Hate and envy. A third son of a royal line often is pawned off in marriage to form alliance or sent off to study in one craft or another as the elder brothers were groomed for Lordship and military. It shouldn't have surprised the Archivist that this prince-magician, his 'student', had more than academic aspirations in mind as he watched his older siblings and their grooming for leadership. But his ambivalence for attaining position left him blind to the ambitions of his student. It shouldn't have surprised him that he would soon find himself thrust into having to protect the king against his students angst and rage at being left to his own devices. The king, and his two sons eventually were lost in the magical melee and the Archivist had to bring much of his own magical prowess to bear against the prince-magician's shadow forces. The prince-magician relented against the power brought against him - his own fledgling strength failing against what the Archivist brought forth, and in so, forfeit to the Archivist all he'd hoped to gain. Rather than be killed, the prince-magician begged for mercy and pledged service if the Master Archivist would continue to teach him and show him the depths of his power. Seeing perhaps a useful tool too powerful to destroy, the Archivist permitted the price-magician to live, warned that his service would cost him his life. He locked the prince-magician in the lower south wing where now the the largest portal to the Shadowfell he knew of existed.

The Archivist, now Master of the king's lands, turned all to his demand. All was his to command and though he was not one to strive to attain position, it was his to use. He could use tools and all that once was the kings to his own devices. Contacts and spy networks, resources and libraries, the prince-magician who would eventually become known as The Chaplain and his shadow army, he would use them all to seek that which he sought the dearest of all, the Conduit. His path back to...

He grumbled... Two thousand years and still no firm evidence.... Jachin had better make a finding this time...

He rose from his mat and left the Scrying Room, all concentration lost and all scrying efforts wasted, not for the first time.

Characters:

Varnel Thigbin - Cleric & Healer

Ally: "Varnel is so dreamy! What girl in their right mind wouldn't have a crush?!"
Bonesly: It's all in how the tea ceremony is executed... for Varnel, dreaminess ensues. *this based on the number of female chars remarking on how wonderful Varnel's tea is... not just any tea*
Back to top
Payne
04:34:40 PM 09/15/15
EXCELSIOR!


Registered Member #613
Joined: 04:18:34 PM 09/09/05
Location: Great White North eh...
Posts: 6762
Leaving the Dead Wing with his ....Warrior, Jachin headed back up inside the Castle to find his second tool.

The Undead warrior was likely enough, but the Collector also knew that something like this, a Warrior of focused destruction, may not be exactly....delicate. Yes there were times when you just obliterated any opposition, but he knew from experience, that there were also times when precision was needed.

For this, he headed to the Outsiders. A Demon, a Devil, a mixture of both in some twisted abysmal creature, all were options. Every one of them had their strengths, their uses, and their weaknesses. Like the Undead, whatever it was.....he assumed Fallen Knight...Jachin wanted something to be directed, used, a tool.

He wasn't seeking the mindless, just something lacking self interest. Something that when unleashed, would do as he commanded. He passed numerous alcoves filled with one beast after another, but nothing seemed to, fit.

It was not until he was just about to leave for another side wing, that he heard it.

Voices shouted, beasts roared in protest, others bellowed in strange grating tongues. But above them all, was the screech The sound of a hundred birds wailing in pain, or talons raking a chalkboard was the best explanation he would later give, as from down a distant hall, the shape came at him.


. [ image disabled ]


Flailing talon like arms, its beak snapping, the Vrock seemed to fly down the hall as it either fled imprisonment, or found Jachin it's next meal. The Undead warrior drew its great sword as voices called in warning, but the Collector simply stood and watched the vulture like creature close in on him.

He was not overly confidant, nor was he a fool. But he did have a secret, not so much to those of the upper echelons of the Collective, but one not many of the workers knew. As the Vrock came nearly into striking range, Jachin uttered a single word. "Exar."

The result was as impressive as it was chaotic. The Vrocks taloned limbs pin wheeled, its beak opened to screech in protest as its body spasmed, then crashed to the stone work floor. Jachin stepped impassively to the left and out of the way of the Vrocks body that propelled by own momentum, rolled past him and into the legs of the Undead, sending the pair in to a writhing heap.

The Undead bellowed in anger, and kicked the Vrock away as it scrambled to pick up its sword and climb back to its feet. The Vrock too regained its footing, and glared at Jachin in poorly contained rage.

The word was an invention of the Archivist, a word of power imbedded into the Collectives 'assets'. Jachin often wondered if he too had such a command buried somewhere deep within his mind, but knowing the Master as he did, it wasn't worth bothering with. Of course he did.

Muttering the word to the charging Vrock, claimed the Outsider to Jachins will. And it was not pleased. But, the Vrock soon settled, it too knew its place. And understanding that a Collector, for who else would know the word, had claimed its services, the Vrock knew it would be free of the Castle.

Jachin nodded, and lifting a hand to the beings coming to recover the escaped Vrock, he ordered them away. "This one is coming with me."

While the Vrock showed signs of independence, thus going against his reason for coming here. The vicious beast was oddly, appealing. Perhaps it was the amusing look the Undead was giving the Vrock, or, he could appreciate the terror of another witnessing such a beasts charge toward them. Either way, these two would suit him, for now.

Corlupi's muse since 2015.
[ image disabled ]

Riggs - The Man in Black Riggs Theme Song
Vaurin - The Taaldarax of the 'Great Game'
Paydon - Thayan Red Memoirs
Tyson - Paladin of Sune
Slagg - Chosen Priest of Wa'i'lanai
Sqwar - High Priest of Squar'Kanith
Caustin - 'Feywood Elf'
Jachin - Agent of the 'Collective'
Back to top
Payne
12:28:17 PM 11/23/15
EXCELSIOR!


Registered Member #613
Joined: 04:18:34 PM 09/09/05
Location: Great White North eh...
Posts: 6762
His assets acquired, he made his way back up into the one of the peaks of the great Castle.

The trip was admittedly amusing. While he was used to being avoided due to his reputation. To watch those who tripped over themselves to hide from the Collector and his two resources, was borderline comedy. This grew stale quickly however, and more than once he had to level a menacing glare upon the Warrior and the Vrock when they wrestled with each other for space, or leap upon some unfortunate Collective member who did not see the trios approach.

It was the beginnings of a headache to corral these two, and he could not get to the Oracle fast enough.

[ image disabled ]

The Oracle was, apart from the Archivist, quite possibly the most powerful being in the Collectives arsenal. He did not know if her power was Arcane, Divine, or Psionic in nature. For all he knew, she was one of those rare few who found the secret to combine all three. Whatever her considerable powers source, he was glad she was on their 'side'.

Normally Jachin avoided those of supernatural power. Typically power messed with the users mind, and they became social idiots, or worse, delusional. Not the Oracle however, she was different. And yes, she was ridiculously beautiful, but that was not why. She was simply, normal. More importantly, sane.

Passing the threshold to her chamber, the Warrior and Vrock vanished from sight. The first time he came here, this was a surprise and he called out in dismay and as he started to curse, the soothing voice in his mind assured him this was intended. "Fear not Collector, you will not have to gather them again. "

This time he did not even look back to watch their disappearance, he just continued within to smile wide at the kneeling beauty.

"Oracle"

"Hello Collector, where are you off too this time?"

He inwardly smiled, she would have already known this from either her scrying or reading his mind, but she was always polite to at least feign not knowing. "An island called Thain."

"A powerful Island, one of many wonders. In truth, I am surprised it has taken us this long to focus on it."

"Tell me of it"

She smiled to him, a smile that crinkled her nose adorably "Tsk tsk, the Archivist told you no hints."

"You cannot blame me for trying."

The smile widened, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "It will be worth it, even you will become enthralled with what you will find there."

"Is -it- there?"

This brought her lips into a small frown, her beauty again turning the look into an almost sensuous pout. "I do not know, this Island is that special. I cannot pierce it to see, but it has the correct markers."

Jachin was silent for a long moment at those words. The Oracle saw everything, to block her was something he had never experienced before. And somewhere deep inside him, he knew a feeling he did not have often, trepidation.



Corlupi's muse since 2015.
[ image disabled ]

Riggs - The Man in Black Riggs Theme Song
Vaurin - The Taaldarax of the 'Great Game'
Paydon - Thayan Red Memoirs
Tyson - Paladin of Sune
Slagg - Chosen Priest of Wa'i'lanai
Sqwar - High Priest of Squar'Kanith
Caustin - 'Feywood Elf'
Jachin - Agent of the 'Collective'
Back to top
Payne
11:48:46 AM 02/02/16
EXCELSIOR!


Registered Member #613
Joined: 04:18:34 PM 09/09/05
Location: Great White North eh...
Posts: 6762
Together, Jachin and the Oracle moved to the 'Great Hall'.

[ image disabled ]


This was the section of the great castle that held all the attempts so far to find the Conduit. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of stone relics lined the vast hallway. Jachin once considered counting them, just out of personal interest. How many lives, how many decades have been lost in this great search?

In the end it didn't matter, he was a professional, and he would continue to play out his contract in the Conduits search. And yes, privately he would admit that over all the years of searching, he was now invested. He had lost much over these years, and each failure he took personally. So he would find the relic, it had become as much a personal vow as it was a promise.

"Have you ever counted them?"

The question gave him a shiver, was she reading his mind again? Looking to her he saw the playful smile as she shook her head. It was an attempt to tell him that no, she wasn't. But now he wondered if she read that question as well. "No, tempted, but never have. You?"

"No, there is no point in the exercise. The goal is to find it, not linger on the ...defeats."

He appreciated she did not choose to say failures. He would have taken that as an insult, and yet again he wondered if she knew that too. He chuckled at that, the Oracle should be frustrating to be around. But her beauty, her playful side, she was too addictive not to like being around.

She knew that, too.

They came to a massive map on the wall. A map of the planes, and in its center, he looked closely at the cause of the Collectives purpose of this search.

[ image disabled ]

"Sigil" He heard her say softly, almost reverently, beside him.

"The city of doors." He responded in an almost hush and nodded in agreement. Yes, this was the focal point of everything, the great prize. The reason.

Jachin looked down, and in his hand he found a red crystal. As with every time before, he wondered how it got there. Did the Oracle slip it there, or did she just will it to be?

"Your companions are not happy to be in there together."

He had no doubt they weren't. Peering closely, he could almost envision the endless battle between the Vrock and the hulking Undead as they raged being entrapped within the gem. Good, he thought. When he did bring them forth, he would want them angry.

He looked from the crystal and back down to the Oracles beautiful face. In her hand she held a rolled parchment. He quirked a brow in curiosity, but before he could ask, she gestured to the great map.

"A copy to take with you, and a few others you may find interesting."

Jachin began to speak, to say he knew this map as well as the back of his own hand. But he stopped himself, the Oracle said he would want them, and that was enough.

"A kiss before I go?" He asked with a wry smile.

"You'd be lost to me forever if you did, Collector."

She flashed him another of those adorable, dimpled cheeked smiles. And he had to laugh as he turned to walk away. He had no doubt he would, but perhaps, if this Thain had the answers, if it had the ultimate reward, he could finally retire. Then being lost to her wouldn't be that bad of a fate.




Corlupi's muse since 2015.
[ image disabled ]

Riggs - The Man in Black Riggs Theme Song
Vaurin - The Taaldarax of the 'Great Game'
Paydon - Thayan Red Memoirs
Tyson - Paladin of Sune
Slagg - Chosen Priest of Wa'i'lanai
Sqwar - High Priest of Squar'Kanith
Caustin - 'Feywood Elf'
Jachin - Agent of the 'Collective'
Back to top
Payne
11:39:21 AM 02/19/16
EXCELSIOR!


Registered Member #613
Joined: 04:18:34 PM 09/09/05
Location: Great White North eh...
Posts: 6762
Fearing his sudden appearance in an inopportune time and place would bring unwanted attention, he traveled to the island via ship.

This gave him time to read his maps, his own personal journal, to reflect on what he sought. The Conduit, the ultimate artifact. Generations upon generations of Collective members have sought this item.


[ image disabled ]

It was believed that the City of Doors did not have a key, that the center of the Multiverse was a singularity.

The Collective was said to have spent as much time and wealth in finding its key, as it has removing any mention of a key existing. Jachin has seen the Archivists library, read the mentions, witnessed the creation of tomes to replace others stolen, it made him a believer.

A ring of stone, either the size of one's hand, or wide enough to stand within. With the power to tap into any plane of existence, to exit any door one could fathom. Could it finally be within the Collectives grasp?

No, he did not wish to have it for himself. He did not have such greed, but he would admit to finally hold it, see it. To hold proof, to finish a life's goal, was a powerful lure. And, though he was having trouble accepting it, he secretly dreaded its finding. What would he do then?

He had wealth. He could go anywhere, do anything. Perhaps even rule the Collective some day. But what is having everything, when you lacked ambition? Would he become just another King sitting atop his mountain of gold, doing nothing but fear someone taking it?

No, that was not him. He has always been in motion, always searching. To have no place left to go, was to him, a fate worse than death. He'd do as he promised, to complete his vow. When it was complete, he would worry about it then.

For now, an Island was coming into view.


[ Edited 11:42:59 AM 02/19/16 ]

Corlupi's muse since 2015.
[ image disabled ]

Riggs - The Man in Black Riggs Theme Song
Vaurin - The Taaldarax of the 'Great Game'
Paydon - Thayan Red Memoirs
Tyson - Paladin of Sune
Slagg - Chosen Priest of Wa'i'lanai
Sqwar - High Priest of Squar'Kanith
Caustin - 'Feywood Elf'
Jachin - Agent of the 'Collective'
Back to top
Go to page       >>   

Jump:     Back to top

Powered by e107 Forum System


Connect to us with 93.184.199.24 or thain.no-ip.org
Online
Guests: 23, Members: 2 ...
Corlupi viewing usersettings.php
Shade viewing forum.php

most ever online: 155
(Members: 0, Guests: 155) on 07:15:05 AM 12/11/16

Members: 1862
Newest member: Creekbank

Now Playing
Server Time 13:45

1: Ra'xor
2: Dele Ondre Blackle
3: Rita Hesyre
4: Araman Geirahar

Render time: 0.1320 sec, 0.0164 of that for queries. DB queries: 30.