RP:Cleansing an Artifact

Part of the Home Sweet Home Arc

Location: Mage Tower

Synopsis: Gilwen and Larewen meet up with Zahrani, Seylnar, Maegus, and Aetherial at the Mage's Tower to assist Dyraxdiin in removing the curse from the diadem previously recovered from Trist'oth. The process of removal is quick and painless, and the original enchantment placed on the crown remains intact. While there, Dyraxdiin offers to remove the remaining touches of the curse from Gilwen's hand, and that process is not painless, but it does restore the use of her arm. Zahrani also pledges to continue aiding Sage in whatever way she can.

Mage Tower

This room is huge, and the entire place is covered in blue and white marble, with many torches and eight pillars reaching up to the ceiling to reinforce the room above, and keep the tower standing. The columns are covered in mystical runes, probably magic to keep the pillars strong, making them able to withstand pressure that normally wouldn't be possible. In the center of the room, there is a spiraling staircase made of glass, and also inscribed with the same type of runes as the pillars, leading to the higher levels of this magical tower. Next to the stairs there is a small desk here with a sign on it. At the top the sign reads... directions for all new mages. There is a door to the south, and you now notice that it too, is covered in the strength giving runes, that leads outside and a door to the west leading to the dormitory, a place for young mages to rest after their studies here.

Gilwen and Larewen were beaten to the Mage’s tower by Maegus, and Syelnar who had set off from the elven encampment earlier; they had no actual purpose or reason to be there, they had simply wished to watch the proceedings. With them sat Aetherial, another fair haired elf, who was dressed in simple priestess robes, and all three waited patiently and silently for the other participants of tonight’s activities to arrive. “Sorry we’re late,” Gilwen murmured in welcome to her three kinsmen, breaking from the necromancer’s side to join her fellow elves, “It’s damn cold up here in the mountains.” Despite having lived in Frostmaw for years, she had never really acclimated to the more frigid weather. Her gaze swung around the room to acknowledge the other’s present, and she greeted them all with a swift nod. “Are we ready then?”

Dyraxdiin stands at the opposite entrance of the room, a glass box tucked in the crook of his arm which holds the object of interest at this gathering. The great wyrm, disguised as human, steps towards the swelling number of people and offers his own acknowledgement in turn in the shape of a nod. "I am prepared." Blue eyes are cast at the others, expectantly waiting for another to join, perhaps. In a moment, a nearby table along one of the far walls is dragged over in a rather unimpressive show of magic - all 'creeeaak' with no flare. Dyraxdiin places the glass box on the table and offers a final look to each individual gathered.

Zahrani emerged from the mage library, undoing a winter cloak that covered a heavily conditioned form. She had been in the quiet room to center herself in the divine power that she had been trusted with. An subtle aura of golden light plays across her fur and whiskers, like reflections in a pool of living water. She was wearing a simple set of plate armor, the metal humming softly and unobtrusively with her power. The only ornamentation on the paladin was an amulet of Cyris, the god of Freedom and Independent Thought. She surveyed the gathering, her azure gaze warm and reassuring, "I am ready for whatever we may encounter." She turned to Gilwen, Dyraxdiin, and the others, and offered a polite bow at the waist. The paladin patiently waited to hear about the item and the chance to examine it.

Gilwen, Maegus, and Syelnar draw closer toward the table, but keep a safe distance, while Larewen and Aetherial approach it completely. “How is this to work then?” Aetherial asked, glancing toward the tarnished diadem before turning back toward the wyrm; Larewen smirked knowingly, having already devised a plan for her branch of the magic she was to focus on. Ignoring the expression of the necromancer, Aetherial continued her line of questioning, “This will keep the original enchantment it holds, correct? Or are we risking destroying that as well?” Regardless of the answer however, the elf was ready to assist Zahrani in any way the panther might need it.

Dyraxdiin opens the glass box and retrieves the diadem, pushing the box to the far side of the table. He places the diadem upon the surface of the table once again, his touch alone telling him that the magical shield on the cursed item still holds. "Each person that has been called tonight will focus on unweaving their brand of magic that is laced within the crown. Necromancy, Holy, and Arcane. As for keeping the Nature magic intact, it is really up to how well each individual performs. If one of us botches their unweaving, and leaves trace amounts still entangled with the original magic, we will risk losing it all." The mage shuffles his stance, looking at each person once again, to make sure they are all paying attention. "To give you a visual representation of what we are going to do, it is a similar process to removing stitches... except in this case, the stitches are threefold, requires separate hands to remove and are tightly wrapped around magic that we want to keep intact." He nods his head at the simple explanation, "Once all parts have been successfully unraveled I will pull the seam, so to speak, and remove the curse." Without further delay, Diin takes a long breath and brings his hands up in universal gesture of arcane casting. He hopes that this weak human vessel can harness the magic required to wield this threefold anti-curse.

Zahrani 's ears were turned towards Dyraxdiin, taking in the words the dragon said. Like removing stitches, but with multiple hands, and another enchantment must remain intact. She motioned for Aetherial to stand at her side and hold one of the paladin's hands, and spoke quietly, "Like most forms of magic, divine power is more successful with more hearts and minds committed to it. Together, we must be surgical and mindful of the others." She was mentally preparing to carefully extend her power, one of her hands extended and glowing with a soft amber light; her eyes closed, her mind focused on the task at hand, while her other senses are tuned for any possible signals from the Magi and the Necromancer.

Aetherial accepted the answer provided with a small nod and shifted closer towards Zahrani, taking the woman’s hand and murmuring a small, “We serve different gods, but our cause is the same. Trust in your skill, and in Cyris.” She offered the panther woman a warm smile before allowing her eyes to fall shut; the magic she wielded would provide her sight enough. Her magical touch would guide Zahrani’s over and around the other entwined magics at play, allowing the other woman to focus on actually unraveling the curse with little obstruction. Larewen, who could feel the necromantic magic that ran through the diadem, wasted no time in latching onto her aspect of the curse. Meticulously, her own magic trailed over the necromantic streak that wove through the curse, carefully circumventing the other threads that bound the spell so tightly to the diadem. Soon, a black gaseous wisp lifted from the crown, corporeal but translucent, and was sucked into the vampire’s mouth. She consumed the tendril of magic greedily, reaching for every touch of necromantic power, and then researching the diadem again for any remaining traces before finally stepping back and nodding toward Dyraxdiin with her completion.

Dyraxdiin watches, as much as feels, the group working. His own arcanic machinations have begun to lace around the diadem's enchantment, feeling its presence and mapping its flow. His eyes close now, while he envisions the curse - a relatively easy thing to do, already having had performed countless examinations of it. The difficulty lies in the differing magics, any miscalculation could spell disaster, not only for the original enchantment, but for the people here in this room. He didn't feel it was neccessary to share that part. He feels the dark magics pulled away by Larewen, and instantly moves his own flow of mana in to brace the nature magic from being pulled free with the first of the taint removed. The great wyrm gingerly unravels the arcane part of the curse - gingerly, he purges it by inundating it with sensory stimuli and forces it to burn itself out, leaving no trace. Again, he braces the druidic magic with his own, forming a cast around its original shape, in a way. He remains here, a bead of sweat to cascade down his cheek, deeply focused on the task at hand, waiting for the final strand to be lifted.

Zahrani could sense the interlacing of the holy magic, down to the tiniest fractals. With Aetherial's help and focus, combined with her own power and feline senses, they followed each interlocking trail of 'stitches,' subtly expanding each stream of divine power, like a blood vessel expanding and contracting. The third portion of the curse was successfully dismantled, starting with the smallest capillaries and working its way out to the main arteries of holy magic. The panther's eyes opened, fixing a determined gaze on the dragon; their portion of the task was complete.

Aetherial gave a soft sigh as the final stitch was removed from the crown, and immediately looked toward Gilwen and the other two elves who stood by, absolutely enthralled by the process. “Is it still there?” Aetherial asked, her gaze fixed onto Syelnar. The elven druid stepped forward in that moment, his own magic reaching out to carefully prod at the diadem. The arcanic cast was felt, but so was the natural magic that sat beneath the protective barrier. That was all he needed to know, and his ethereal touch vanished from the artifact and he moved back with a nod. Both Gilwen and Aetherial released twin sighs of relief, though it was only the latter of the two women who smiled in triumph. Gilwen had instead moved toward Larewen to thank the necromancer with an exchange of gold and whispered words. Immediately following the exchange, Larewen left. “Is that all then?” Gilwen dared to ask, her attention fixed to Dyraxdiin.

Dyraxdiin finishes his part of completing the brace once the divine magic is removed as well. For the sake of being certain, the mage sends forth a surge of arcanic magic, enough to negate and destroy any remaining fragments of the curse throughout the magical brace. This causes an audible sizzle, like water to a fire. And with it, they were in the clear. "It's done, but I would advise against using the diadem until the magic I wrapped around it dissipates. The enchantment needs to find its home again within the confines of the diadem before it can be put to use, otherwise it will burn out." And probably in an ugly way. Diin's blue eyed gaze drifts to Gilwen's arm, "If you haven't managed to heal that, I would be willing to see what I can do... but it will be painful, for the both of us." His eyes dart up to meet hers, his brows furrowing to suggest the sincerity of his words.

Zahrani smiled in return to Aetherial, "Thank you for your help, and encouragement." The feline turned her head to face Dyraxdiin as he explained his recommended precautions. The feline's tail swished curiously at the concept of enchanting. At the mention of healing Gilwen's arm, the paladin raised a hand, as if she were a student of the magi, before saying, "I can also provide healing if it is needed." She stood by, for whether or not Gilwen wanted Zahrani's help in healing her arm, the paladin would still like to remain among the elves for a time, just to see if their labors here would bear fruit.

Gilwen and entourage nodded in acknowledgment of the warning provided by the wyrm, and Syelnar stepped forward to gather the diadem. “Maegus, Aetherial and I will return this to the fort,” he said toward Gilwen, before leaving for the fort, pausing only to nod a silent thanks toward Dyraxdiin. The fiery headed elf remaining fixed her attention onto Zahrani then, and she slid a small leather purse across the table toward the panther. “I know you said you don’t expect payment, but please.” The topic of healing her arm however, was met with a surprised expression, and she glanced at the gloved appendage before back at the wyrm and feline. “Larewen managed to stop the necrosis. But I can’t produce magic at all. How long do you think it might take?” She was already peeling off her long leather glove to expose the blackened hand beneath; she didn’t care about the pain, she was simply ready to be able to use her own druidic powers once more.

Dyraxdiin raises his brows in surprise, taken back quite a bit by her determination to see to the restoration of her gift, even at the cost of pain. "It will take as long as it takes. We need to do this outside though." He motions for her to follow him and he exits the room, if only to leave the tower as well. The cold air welcomes him, blue eyes to lift to the sky for a moment until he would hear the footfalls of Gilwen behind him. He continues walking, around to the side of the tower. "Don't be alarmed." He states in his usual calm fashion, though the words are slightly distorted by expanding vocal cords. Indeed, Dyraxdiin releases his grip on the magic that binds him in mortal shell and begins to grow exponentially. His garb is left to dissipate as effortlessly as it arrives when desired. Soon enough, the great wyrm stands a colossal height, dwarfed only by the tower near him. "I can't do what is required in mortal form," Echoes the thunderous gray dragon. "When you are ready, I will begin."

Zahrani sighed approached the table, picking up the purse of gold and placing it in her backpack. The wheels were turning in her head as for how to use it; she would sooner give it to charity than use it on herself; such was her vow as a paladin. Her thoughts were briefly interrupted by Dyraxdiin assuming his true form. The paladin raised a brow, but beyond that, she did not appear shocked. She had already witnessed Scandal take his true red and black form last week, so this wasn't exactly mind-blowing. Her ears turned away from the dragon's voice, as it was quite loud compared to when he was in human form. Regaining her initial train of thought, the feline walked up to Aetherial and the other elves, "Are there any other projects or tasks at the Fort settlement that need help or resources?" She would likely re-invest the money given to her back into the community that had sprung up in Sage.

Gilwen followed the wyrm outdoors and around the side of the tower, and though he told her to not be alarmed, she physically balked at the shifting of his figure. But again, it was the temptation of being able to use her druidic magic that caused her to push back her sleeve and extend her hand. “I’m ready.” Call her selfish, but she was ready to put Dyraxdiin through pain so long as she benefited in the end. Aetherial, Maegus and Syelnar had made it as far as their horses just outside the tower before Zahrani caught up with them, and it was Aetherial who greeted the panther. “I cannot think of anything at the moment. But stop back by the fort sometime. I’m sure Gilwen has something on her list.” A brief glance was thrown in the direction of the fiery headed elf, before Aetherial turned back to Zahrani with an apologetic expression. “She’s very single minded lately. So please excuse her rude behavior.” A smile and a nod was given in farewell before the elf swung up onto her horse and the trio moved to descend the mountain and return to Sage.

Dyraxdiin releases a low growl from deep within his throat, six wings to idly flit about in languid fashion - a show of stretching after long being locked away. "Soul." He begins in a foreign tongue, the tradition of using command words in High Saurian something he is still fond of. The great wyrm rears back on his hind legs, serpentine neck to trail after and now storm-wrought gray eyes to peer down at the druid before him. Mana begins to surge forth from his breast, akin to a phantasm of purple coalescing stars. It trails down to Gilwen, his breathing deep and steady, to envelope her entirety in a wash of tangible arcanic energy. "Accept it and the pain will begin." Already, she would be able to feel the magic pressing against her, touching the periphery of sense, but just beyond conscious recognition.

Zahrani waves goodbye to Aetherial and the others as they depart, before turning her head in the direction of Gilwen and Dyraxdiin. The removal of the curse from the Diadem had fatigued her slightly, but she seemed resolved to walk back up the mountain towards the tower. She began searching for a place to watch the two perform their healing ritual, while simultaneously staying out of the way. She had no desire to interfere; she just wanted to be nearby if something unexpected happened.

Gilwen readily accepted the mana that pressed against her, and gasped at the sudden rush of pain that reverberated up the length of her arm and spread across her back and chest. “Lauria you weren’t lying,” she growled out between her clenched teeth, her uncursed hand gripping the wrist of the blackened appendage tightly, as if the tourniquet grip would lessen the pain of the magic as it worked to burn out the arcane aspect of the curse. As the sensation continued to wash up and down the length of her arm, the harder she held her arm, the tighter she grit her teeth. Eventually, the elf’s knees buckled, and she sank to the ground beneath her, doubling over her hand while sweat broke out across her forehead and ran in rivulets down her face. But the only sound she ever released was the occasional, and near silent groan she wasn’t able to bite back.

Dyraxdiin is met with a similar brand of pain, though his is empathetic through the link he has established with Gilwen. Every miniscule sensation burning itself into his body the same as her, but it isn't the end. Through her he searches for the source of the blockage, through himself he searches. His working memory of the previous curse on the diadem a vital boon to the fruition of this plan. She may be selfish, but his actions are not done to save her, but simply test his theory on the cleansing of Sage Forest. The two benefit mutually if it works. His mana inundates Gilwen completley, effectively purging away anomaly and energy together, with unbiased, reckless abandon. The gray dragon grinds his teeth, jaw clenching tightly against the pain, he silently thanks himself for not attempting this as a human. But before the arcane casting can drag into the throes of eternity, he draws the magic back from her. The energy soon turns diaphanous, and then releases any semblance of character whatsoever, dispersed back into the world. "You'll need rest and possibly druidic healing, but you are whole." Dyraxdiin bellows in that strong Saurian tone.

Zahrani watched and waited. The paladin was wrapped in her winter cloak, eyes appearing to glow in the night as they took in the light show before her. When she looked at Dyraxdiin, it felt like she was standing at the shore of a vast arcane ocean, and this healing ritual used on Gilwen essentially cast her body against the rocky shore, so to speak, in order to violently dislodge whatever darkness was clinging to her arm. Overwhelming force was a crude-but-effective method of dealing with opposing magic. And it may be the method that would offer the highest chance of success in cleansing Sage Forest. The questions that come to the paladin's mind are: 1) What is the cost of this? 2)What are the side effects, short-term and long-term? and 3)Is everyone prepared to deal with the answers to the first two questions? Regardless, it was her hope to help the elves gain their freedom and independence in Sage, by freeing the forest itself from its curse. She remained where she was, waiting for the two of them.

Gilwen bore the pain associated with the spell casting for what seemed to be an eternity, but once the pain faded and then disappeared entirely, she gasped anew- relief and a freedom surging through her at the release of the wyrm’s power. She remained doubled over, her arm cradled to her chest, and panted over the healed appendage for a while longer. Her jaw ached from clenching it so tightly, and her arm tingled, the nerves slowly recovering from the onslaught of power and abuse they had endured, but slowly, she sat upright and fixed her attention on Dyraxdiin. Though pallid and exhausted beyond belief, she nodded her thanks to the wyrm and slowly managed to gather her feet, albeit shakily, her blackened arm still held protectively against her. Despite the freedom from the curse, nothing had yet been done to reverse the discoloration. “Rest. And healing.” She mimicked the recommendations with a nod; she felt like she could sleep for weeks at this point. “Thank you.” She turned from the wyrm and found the paladin still there, and she met the panther with a look of surprise. “I hadn’t expected you to still be here,” she moved toward the paladin, but nodded to the dapple mare that remained behind when the other elves had left. “Could you help me onto her?” The question came hesitantly, the woman’s pride unwilling to ask for something so simple as a boost onto her mount.

Dyraxdiin had learned what he needed to fine-tune a workable anti-curse for Sage, but it would take some practice and fine manipulation to get it right. Overwhelming the curse would work, but such a thing would wreak utter havoc on the forest itself, that it would probably be just as bad. With this knowledge in hand, Dyraxdiin nods to the departing Gilwen, and ascends to the skies. He had a secluded spot in mind to mull over the complexities of the curse and create a spell that would be its undoing.

Zahrani walked with Gilwen back to her horse, explaining calmly, "I never consider a task 'done' until the fruit of that task is borne. Sage is still sick." At the question of help, she offered a warm smile to the elf, "Of course." The paladin pulled her cloak open so that it wouldn't obstruct her arms. She was able to help give Gilwen a boost, keeping a large warm paw on her leg momentarily, to make sure she was stable. As she turned to mount her own horse, the feline said, "If you would have me, I would very much like to spend some time in the forest settlement, providing aid and watching the forest change, once it is cleansed."

Gilwen struggled briefly to find her seat in the saddle, but once she was perched soundly, she took up the reigns and turned to Zahrani with a rare, but small smile. "If you want to continue to assist Sage, I'm sure we can find something and some place for you." With a nod, the elf turned her mount toward the east and began to set off for Sage once more.

Zahrani smiled in return, following the elf back down the mountain on horseback. The feline was happy to help, and it would give her a chance to know some of the other people who had set up camp around the fort. There were many stories to tell, and much freedom and independence that needed to be encouraged in Lithrydel.