RP:Amongst the Dunes

Summary: Emelyan encounters a bedraggled Odhranos in the Nameless desert.

Sea of Sands

Emelyan quite appreciated the quiet of the desert. The wind rose and died, the sand shifted, and other than that, there was almost eerie silence. Few birds wandered this far out into the desert, away from any vegetation, and snakes and small animals kept to themselves. Emelyan was free to tinker under the scorching sun, which bothered the dusky pyrokinetic not one whit, and tinker he did. He'd worked on his mechanical leg, finding the limits of technology that these lands would allow. Past a certain point, divine magic interfered, and disintegrated technology. It seemed advanced prosthetics were a concession the Gods made to mortal kind, and so he worked tirelessly on this pet project... pneumatic gauntlets that could harness his pyrokineticism for devastating power. Aka... power gauntlets. He was an irate brawler without a drop of liquor in him on the streets, and with these, he could make more than a sport out of it. He had everything laid out on a mat in the sand, water and food, and all the minutinae of engineering paraphernalia. Sam frolicked around him, climbing up then rolling down dunes merrily. Adorable little puppers.

A trail of uneven footprints tracked across the featureless dunes of the desert, the line wavering and wandering aimlessly across the undulating sands. The source of these footprints scuffed his tired way onwards, to gods know where. At first glance, the figure seemed to be clothed in mere rags and scraps of cloth, though at closer inspection, one could see that the cloth belonged to once fine grey robes, now hanging in tatters, exposing the sun-ravaged and sand burned skin beneath. The mage limped onwards, his feet slipping with every step as he approached Emelyan, though he did not notice his presence. In fact, the mage seemed not to notice anything at all, his eyes were filmy and overcast while his parched throat whispered with faint hints of words that were drowned out by the perpetual hissing of the sandstorm trapped in the gilded golden cage the mage carried upon his back.

Emelyan spied with his little orange eyes, a magi, of all things. One that seemed lost in the desert. He blinked, wondering what he was looking at. Over the man's shoulder, in a cage, seemed to be a bonified sandstorm. Magic wasn't quantifiable, and though he'd made something of a study of it, the deeper mysteries of the arcane continued to elude him... not that he minded. He preferred alchemy to magic any day. "Hail, mage." The man seemed listless, lacking in composure. Emelyan had no idea how long he'd been out here, but it'd been too long. "Sit, and have a drink." Better to give the man a few moments to recuperate, before asking him any questions. Emelyan pulled, from a bag of holding, a large umbrella and planted it in the sands. The sun wouldn't scorch him, but it had obviously beat this magi down to the bone. It opened, and provided a large area of shade for the two to sit under. Sam came trotting up to the man, and sniffed his leg, yelping helpfully at him.

Odhranos slowly raised his head, his now gold-flecked eyes gazing blearily forward. A person, not a mirage this time. And another creature, smaller, four-legged, who approached the mage and then barked at him. The mage's lips turned up at the corners slightly and he reached out with a shaking, sun-ravaged hand towards the animal. "Fancy meeting you out here, good lad." The words tumbled like dust from the mage's mouth, his speech heavy from lack of use and dehydration as he crouched to greet the dog.

Emelyan was quiet, watching the mage. Sam rubbed against his leg, and fawned on him, appreciative of the attention. Emelyan placed a flask of water near to the man. "Drink slowly. That water has a touch of alchemy to it. It'll make you feel better." He'd continue working on his gauntlets, fastening small screws and superheating the retention chambers, testing their strength. Emelyan glanced up at the man and his dog now and again, but remained focused on his work. If the man was lost, he'd ask for directions.

The mage raised his head and glanced at the other individual, a small human at first glance, but who can tell these days? "Thank you, sir, there are few kindnesses this place affords, so your gift is all the greater appeciated." The man creaked upright, then slowly bent at the waist into a low bow. Upon straightening, the mage made his way slowly across to the shade of the umbrella and dropped onto his haunches before seating himself. Unstoppering the flask took more effort than it should, the mage noted, but that first drop of life-giving water was worth the effort. Taking small sips, Odhranos breathed out a sigh and closed his eyes. "Do you have a name that I might include in my prayers to the gods, sir?" The mage inquired, his eyes remaining closed.

Emelyan quirked a brow. A religious mage... how queer. Most of the magi of these lands were self absorbed, obsessive seekers of arcane secrets, and megalomaniacs besides. "Emelyan." Just the one word, as metal scraped oiled metal and he continued his work. The gauntlets would probably be too hot for most people to touch, in this sun, but the heat helped with certain aspects of their unique engineering. They were going to be funneling pyrokinetic power, after all. Sam crawled up into the man's lap, and rolled over on his back, presenting his as of yet unpet tummy. He licked and nudged at the man's hand, encouraging him to do the right thing.

Odhranos smiled fondly at the Sam's attentions and obliges his wishes, scratching his tummy with firm motions. "Kestral would be awfully jealous of you, pup, she loves belly-scratches" the mage quipped, then turned to study Emelyan's work on the metal gauntlets. "You wouldn't happen to have any news of the outside world, would you? It has been some time since I've seen anything but sand and heard anything but wind." The mage inquired, his grey-and-gold eyes tracking Emelyan's movements with a curious gaze.

Emelyan paused, considering. "Larket is in dire straits. An earthquake shattered the city, and there is talk of more trouble to come. Frostmaw hosts its tournaments, and Cenril is yet in the grip of criminal organizations." Which he had a leadership hand in, though he didn't say so aloud. "The rest of the world is fairly quiet, for now." He picked up a gauntlet, and put a few last things in place, before slipping it on, and flexing his fingers. Sam lavished under the man's attentions, and yipped at the mention of Kestral. Kestral should be jealous, he had tummy scratches.

The mage's eyes widened at mention of Larket's plight and a question instantly formed upon his lips, but he thought better and suppressed the question. Best let some things stay forgotten, it wouldnt benefit anyone. She probably assumed he was dead anyway, and for the sake of everyone else, he might as well be. "That's a shame to hear about Larket and Cenril. As for Frostmaw, I suppose the Silver is keeping the peace well. Funny, it doesn't seem so long ago the war in Frostmaw ceased..." the mage trailed off, lost in memories.

Emelyan quirked a brow at that. If Frostmaw was this man's home, then he was far from it. Emelyan stood, and walked off a few feet, then punched the air. He did it a few more times, checked his gauntlet, adjusted it, and punched again. A storm of fire exploded from the end of it, and the gauntlet made a loud noise, probably resetting itself. Emelyan went back to the umbrella, sitting with it. "Needs some work, but as a prototype, it's a success." He took it off, and placed it on the ground. "So." Now that his attention was less divided, he looked to the mage. "Tell me a story, mage. What are you doing out here, with a storm at your back? You are not obligated to tell me anything, but I am perishing curious."

The mage cocked his head to the side when Emelyan stood and when the capabilities of the gauntlet were revealed, the mage's eyes lit up, with a bright curiousity that had been missing for some time. "Ah! Pyromancy, very impressive!" He exclaimed as the heat abated and the gauntlet was removed. However, his exuberance fell a notch when the pyromancer turned and put forward his question. With a sigh, the mage's head drooped and a silence fell over him, during which the quiet hissing of his caged sandstorm seemed to grow in volume. "I suppose I should explain at very least, you have shown me kindness after all." The mage looked up and met the dusky orange eyes with a smile. "My name is Odhranos. I'm a terramancer and scholar of the Mage's Guild of Xalious. And both of those occupations are what got me into this mess" he began.

Emelyan shook his head. "Not pyromancy. Pyrokineticism. I haven't plumbed the depths of arcane secrets for dominion over the element. It comes naturally to me, a form of psionicism, driven purely by my mental fortitude. Though, it's funny you should mention Xalious. I taught alchemy at the mage's guild there, for a time. Now, I work there as a scribe on occasion, making copies of their most important texts and scrolls. I don't have the time for a full teaching position these days." Odd that he'd claim to be a teacher, when he looked like a young boy, barely into his teenage years. "A terramancer, is it? I have a lot of respect for scholars, and intellectuals. Sorry to ramble. Please, continue." He needed to stop wagging his tongue so much. Sam was wagging his tongue without making noise, dancing around the pair of them, in the sand. The dog didn't seem to grow dehydrated, though he did not drink any water, and wouldn't.

The mage raised his hands in apology. "My apologies for mistaking, my primary field of research involved the elemental magics, hence my assumption. I myself employ pyromancy on occasion, but it pales in comparison to my interest and abilities in the field of terramancy." The mage smiled, returning his hand to the comforting motion of scratching Sam's tummy. "I've been researching the art of constructs and artificial animation, on foot of some work I undertook for the guild alongside Lanlan, and I became delved further and further into the subject, bringing me into contact with other domains of magic. Including necromancy, the heart of reanimation and artificial life. When I was trawling through some of the forgotten texts in the Mage's library, I came across one particular text that made reference to the binding of a certain creature employing both necromancy and terramancy." The mage paused and shrugged the spherical golden cage from his shoulders, passing his hand over the curving and twisting metal strips that made up the enclosure. "The creature in question was an ancient sand dragon. Named S'erok Lamaar." The mage patted the cage lightly, then met the mysterious boy's eyes. "This is what is left of him."

Emelyan gave a low whistle. "Dangerous." That summed up the man's current work nicely. "I knew a necromancer, a bone lord. Never seen necromancy used in an unarmed, melee capacity before. It had fascinating applications." He shook his head. "But, I digress. That is off topic. Tell me, what are your intentions with this S'erok? I take it you remain in the desert because you feel it'd be foolhardy to venture inland with such a force. It should certainly be... carefully contained." Emelyan had played with dangerous forces in his time. He found it very important to take all due precautions.

Odhranos grimaced and glanced up at Emelyan. "Unfortunately, I didn't come here of my own volition. I encountered this artefact in the hoard of another dragon, a particularly despicable one by the name of Raiez. She had a taste for magic items, and worse besides, magically inclined individuals. Half the mage's of Xalious were kidnapped, Khitti, Dominic, Linn and myself included. During our escape from her captivity, I came across it when retrieving my belongings from the hoard, and upon touching it, I was knocked unconsious." The mage frowned, hazy yet painful memories flooding back to him. "The remenant of the dragon's soul had grown mad within it's cage, longing to return to it's place of origin and be reuinited with the other remnant of it's soul. So it took control of me, driving me south and east from Frostmaw, through the Sage and into the desert, battering down any opposition it met on it's way. I was able to keep it from unleashing it's full wrath, but it was a tenuous grasp."

Emelyan quirked a brow. "Then, it seems your quest is yet undone. Does it press you, still?" There were many reasons not to delve too deeply into the mysteries of magic. One was powerful, willfull entities taking control of you in one manner or another. "Perhaps I can be of some assistance, if so. At the least, I can keep you fed and hydrated whilst you attempt to reunite the lost souls, so to speak." He wasn't sure how much else he could help, but he'd looked over topographical maps before coming to the desert. Perhaps he could help him find his way.

Odhranos shrugged, but a kind smile crossed his face. "I am unsure where to go from here. On the one hand, this dragon was done a great wrong by the mages of Xalious and anything I can do to make reparation for that is my duty as a member of the Guild, but on the other hand, there is so much I don't know about this S'erok Lamaar. Perhaps he was bound for a reason? I can't tell. All I do know is that this fragment bears significant hatred for the Guild, enough to warrant caution on my part. And if a single fragment of the dragon has this power, what power might the whole soul have?"

Emelyan sighs. "And here I had hoped that reuniting the soul would mean a peaceful resolution for all involved. I suppose that just shows what a hopeless romantic I am." Laughable, really. "I cannot claim any mastery of esoteric secrets or any real ability to aid you in this specific pursuit. But if you are trapped in this desert while you figure out what to do, I can offer some aid. There are magi who create portable pocket dimensions, small retreats they can carry in a pocket. These are expensive, but I have money, and connections, and you seem like to die of exposure out here. Perhaps you'd like me to acquire one for you?" It seemed a sincere offer... though such a thing was worth a kings ransom.

Odhranos shrugged and smiled. "You aren't alone, if there is any chance for peace, I will do my utmost to achieve it. Perhaps this dragon can be reasoned with. Also, there is some hope yet, as I believe the dragon managed to control me via my terramancy, perhaps that link can go both ways and I can confront it on level terms." The mage listened intently and his eyes widened at the boy's suggestion. "Oh, I couldn't ask for such a favour, it would be too much to ask when you have already afforded me such kindness in this brief respite. And I just about manage, there are waters hidden deep beneath these sands if you look hard enough" The mage smiled openly, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Thank you dearly though, Emelyan. If I ever manage to escape this place intact, I will repay you for your help."

Emelyan waved him off. "Call me a concerned citizen, mage. I have the means, and I'd rather not see an ancient, enraged dragon's soul let loose so soon after Larket's own destruction by earthquake. I'll bring you the pocket dimension, so you can have a respite. Like I said... I have connections. It'd be put to good use, in my eyes." It was about all he could do to help, so he was now all but insisting upon it. There were some upsides to having a fortune in drug-money, and one was helping prevent huge scale disasters like loose eldritch terrors, or 'dragon souls'. Damn turkeys of the sky.

The mage bowed his head in acceptance and scratched Sam's tummy, smiling down at the content canine. "Your master is an honourable man, pup, you couldn't have chosen better." Returning his gaze to Emelyan, the mage met the dusky orange gaze with his own grey-and-gold and a firm yet thankful expression formed upon his sand-weathered features. "Thank you. I owe you. I will accept your help and upon this matters conclusion, I will return the pocket dimension to you, along with a promise, if you are ever in need, I will assist you." The mage scooped a handful of cooling sand from beside him and closed his fist around it. When he opened his hand again, the sand had solidified and an ornate sandstone scarab scuttled on the spot on the mage's palm. Holding it up for Emelyan to take, the beetle would lose it's animacy upon leaeving the mage's touch. "If you need to find me, place this creature upon the ground and tap it three times. The residual magic will bring it to life and it should track me down with ease."

Emelyan quirked a brow at the earth-scarab. "Very impressive. I wish pyrokineticism were as versatile as the elemental magic arts." He took the scarab, and pocketed it. "Ah, and something you might be interested to know. Sam is actually not a dog. He's not real at all. Or, he is, but he's a figment of my imagination. A psychically manifested shred of my own subconscious, given tangible, physical form. I've found a few magi that stated they would love such a thoroughly connected familiar. He literally knows everything I do." And they could see through eachother's eyes, and all sorts of fun things. Emelyan scratched Sam behind the ears, though the action seemed highly self serving. "He might be bringing you the pocket dimension, though. It'll be stocked with supplies." Emelyan began gathering up his things, stuffing the tools into leather holders and putting them, in turn, into a bag of holding. "I must go now, but I look forward to the next time we meet." Now, he had to go pull a few favors, and buck up some dough. It was going to be something, getting his hands on one of those pocket dimensions.

The mage raised an eyebrow at Emelyan's revelation. "A psychic construct, eh? Seems like we may be seeing more of eachother in the future, I have many many questions, enough that you may get sick of me" The mage grinned and clambered to his feet, shouldering the cage and giving Sam's ears one last ruffle. "Safe journey, Emelyan."

It would be only half a week before that beetle returned, with Sam chasing merrily behind it, a satchel strapped to his body. Inside, was the pocket dimension, to a little paradise Odhranos could enjoy without leaving the desert.