RP:Jolie Joins the Guild
The Hanging Corpse Tavern
Tiphareth strolls into the tavern, looking about for the one he wished to speak with. This city has always been among his favorites on the surface due to its inherent darkness and the Drow seemed at ease here. Spotting Tenebrae, the Patrons slowly makes his way to a position at her side. "Greetings Tenebrae, how fare you this eve?"
Jolie was sitting behind the bar, at the farthest end from the door, staring at a bottle of whiskey set upon the counter, a glass upended over its cork. Well, glaring, really, rather than staring, as though the liquor has offered her some vast affront and was moments away from having its neck broken. "Bastard," she muttered to it, flicking a bar-cloth irritably so that the glass spun on its corky axis, and the necromancer stalked off to find something upon which to vent her chagrin. Which is about when she noted the venerable drow’s entrance, so his greeting in return was likely a petulant scowl until her mood changed gears. "Oh... hello." The frown had vanished. Mostly. "I fare .. well enough. Yourself?"
Tiphareth notices as the 'arcane barmaid' was seemingly growing more annoyed with a bottle of spirits and as such is not taken aback by her demeanor as she responds to the Drow, "I am rather well, things have been mostly peaceful down below... almost boring. I hear from Svilfon that you've got other issues you wished to discuss regarding the arcane arts."
"Yes, actually, I wanted… forgive me," she interrupted herself, waving a bandaged hand to a nearby table. "Do have a seat. Might I get you a drink? I still have some of that wine I st…bought. From that trader. Your own make. And yes, I wanted to discuss the possibility of having necromancy take a more prominent role in the Guild."
Tiphareth grins slightly at her behavior, "Of course I'll take a seat, though I've got my own drink." the Drow motions to a wineskin slung about his shoulder. "You know, I've actually had conversations with the Archmage about topic in the past... In fact, you are among those I consider to be Masters in their field who are not currently in the Guild."
Jolie snagged a bottle of something greenish from the shelf, and would shortly after slide into a seat opposite Tiphareth. “Really? I had this idea…” the bottle was uncorked, delicately, with her teeth but given her present company she did not spit it out but used her fingers to dislodge it from a sharp canine tooth and set it on the table. A swig taken, she continued, “…of it perhaps being more a sort of sub-branch. Still under the wing of the Guild, but with its own ranks and such – mainly as necromancy is, in its highest forms, quite a different area altogether than most other fields of magic, though there –is- room for some crossover, of course…” she had run out of breath, at that point, and realised she’d been babbling. “It’s a very exciting prospect,” was her apology.
Tiphareth rubs his chin for a moment, "A sub-branch... that sounds similar to what I had in mind actually. We've had issues in the past with Necromancers in the guild and the limited ability to teach them suitably. As of now we've had Lorkain of the Death Cult temple teach them, though he skilled and knowledgeable, he's rather impatient and has no time for a full apprentice."
Jolie sniffed rather haughtily, turning her bottle about in her hands, “Ahem. Yes, well, he does adequately for the basics. What I’m offering you is a refinement of the art, into areas that require dedication, true skill. I possess rare spells – as you are of course aware – that ought to be passed on, now they’re not lost any more. Such a place in the guild offers me assurance that I’ll find quality students, and have an infrastructure in place to lessen the chances of such knowledge being badly used. I’d like it exclusive to the guild, if possible – at least the stuff beyond Adept level.”
Tiphareth decants a cup of his own wine, raising the glass to his nose for a moment to take in the aroma before he downs a slow sip of his favored spirit. "I can work up some documentation perhaps regarding a branch organization, I see no issue with that. There is no other Necromancer in the realm I'd see as more fitting for the position. Should such a charter agreement go through, I would like for you to be a member in the Mage's Guild proper, as a symbolic gesture and a representation of our faith in your skills. Would you be interested in such membership?"
Fadje ducks into the tavern, unveiled, keeping a wary distance from the conversing pair.
Jolie tilted her head, almost like a slightly confused hound would, and blinked. "Me? In the.." She took another long drink, swallowed, and hesitated only a moment longer. "Quite the honour, Tiphareth. I mean, yes - I think that'd be… me, in the Guild?" Jolie had never been much of a 'joiner'. She lifted a concerned look to the drow. "Would that necessarily affect.. how I do business?" The necromancer assumed he had a fairly decent grasp of what that 'business' generally entailed.
Jolie's attention was cast upon the female orc only briefly. Her Chief of Security, however, locked his sulphurous gaze upon Fadje in a far more direct fashion, his massive frame tensing.
Tiphareth shakes his head upon hearing her concern. "You do know who the Archmage is... yes? We are not an organization of pacifists or goodly deeds. We are an organization which aims to advance the highest forms of magic attainable by mortal men, to ensure that it's knowledge and practice continue to grow through future generations. I see no reason why your business as usual should be negatively affected."
Fadje fastly ignores the attentions of Urghdak, instead seeking the focus of Steadman; for whom she is keen to pose questions about the Wanted Ault, attempted Queen slayer.
Steadman would not impart such knowledge, even if he knew.
Jolie turned a sidelong look toward Urghdak, lifting her chin in the subtle signal to stay wary.
Fadje mutters a series of barbaric curses, most pertaining to the likeness of Steadman's mother to a wild boar, as she is fended off with the blunt wit only a barman can spin. A screech-filled retreat of her stool taking place before the warrior moves to depart. Everyone in this town had their mouth sewn shut!
Tiphareth extends his left arm horizontally to his side, the right hand sweeps over to meet the hanging sleeve of his robes. A few verses of arcane formulae slip through his thin ebon lips as he reaches into the sleeve and proceeds to withdraw an elongated wooden staff. Upon emerging from his clothing, the wooden implement is immediately recognizable as the symbol of the Mage's Guild, the Xalious wood staff. The Eldermage holds the meta-magical implement out toward the Necromancer, "Take this as a representation of your new membership within our ranks, I will inform the others of your membership. You will be known among us by the rank of Magister Templi."
Tiphareth gave 1 Xalious wood-staff to Jolie.
Jolie turned her full attention to the Eldermage, leaving Trollson to deal with any trouble if it arose. “Magister..” her fingers curled around the living wood, her gaze upon it reverent. “I shall do my level best to upkeep such a title, Tiphareth, with the honour it deserves.” Clutching the staff like the treasure it was, she reached for her bottle with the opposite hand, raising it in salut, a sharp white smile offered the drow. “To the future of necromancy.”
Tiphareth returns a similar gesture "Indeed, may it be long and prosperous... Speaking of Necromancy, have you had much time to look over the book I left in your possession?"
Jolie nodded, enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. Yes, I have, and in fact I have found the most marvellous applications for some of the spells already…” she paused, smiled. “My student Leifong… whom you must meet, he’s really quite … something… has reaped the benefit. And I made a cake. Well. Sort of...” Which reminded her, in some convoluted and logic-defying way, of why Tiphareth had given her the book in the first place. “I have also made some slight additions, in my own hand, in the margins. You ought to find those immensely useful. You would have elsewise likely turned yourself into a puddle of something nasty.” She didn’t snicker. Not openly. “I’d still be delighted to offer you any help you need, in that matter. It may need to wait a week or so, though. I have.. business, in another realm that might demand my presence for a time. But be assured, I am still willing to participate should you need me, and the matter ought not, as I understand it, immediately pressing. These things do take time.”
Tiphareth inhales sharply at her revelation, "Considerable time... yes. Such is the reason I came to you with these inquiries, I knew you would have useful input on the matter. There is certainly no rush, it will take considerable preparation to set these things in motion... not to mention the various security measures I will have to set in place for my future *ahem*... possession of high importance. I've begun work on a number of different tinctures and the like, as we previously discussed, when we've more time I can deliver them to you and impart the various uses and methodology they require."
Jolie gave her new staff a gentle, experimental tap on the stone floor. "Just let me know if there's anything you need. I do have a marvellous alchemist at hand. Foul little creature, but honestly, he is most gifted and possibly the best of kind the world has yet to see. Speaking of… I have this business. In another land, coming up. I expect to return with a slew of new poisons, ones I've never seen," the thought clearly thrilled her, "And which are rumoured to be able to fell even your own people. No immunity, as such. I thought you'd not mind a look at those."
Svilfon appears long enough to offer Jolie a crooked smile and a respectful bow, and the sublime master a tip of his hat, before he vanishes once more.
Jolie grinned at the mage and waved.
Tiphareth gestures toward Jolie's testing of her new staff, "You'll find it rather durable, the wood is quite dense and strong, you needn't be gentle with it. And yes, I've be greatly interested in checking out these new poisons, the unexpected is always a boon in such practices."
Jolie gave the staff a slightly firmer tap, "Well. It'd also be good to find a way for them not to kill you." She added, almost casually, "And anyone else you don't particularly want to die, as well. I'll send word as soon as I return, and perhaps we can make an exchange of some sort."
Tiphareth nods in agreement, " I will look forward to your return, and in the meantime I'll discuss the matter of your prospective branch organization with the Archmage and get back to you with some documentation."
Jolie's smile was... genuine. Rare as that occurrence was. "Do send him my regards, it's been an age since we spoke."
Tiphareth said to Jolie, "I will mention it to him. For now I must be going, we'll have much to discuss on our next encounter... and welcome to the Guild."
Jolie wasn't used to bowing her head in honest respect to anyone in any real sort of way, and so the dip of head she offered Tiphareth now was a tad awkward. "Thanks to you once more, Eldermage. I look forward to it."
Tiphareth returns a respectful gesture toward Jolie before he departs northward, "Good evening."