RP:Magister Odhranos Kerrigan, Councilman

Part of the Lies Within Us Arc

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Summary: Sensing Odhranos’s doubts, Administrator Brewnwyn and the other council members attempt to bring Odhranos closer to their ranks by promoting him to Magister Templi and giving him a seat on the council.

Mage’s Library

Odhranos stares at the page before him like the paper were covered in illegible runes. Turning the page made no help, nor did putting it back on the shelf and plucking another book at random. Odhranos floats as if in a daze, his mind clouded in worry and doubt, a dense fog that blinds him to everything and everyone around him. How had he gotten to the library? Who's voice was that? Where had S'erok gone? The terramancer closes another book with a snap, tucking it back into its slot, then as if terrified by the void it left, he reaches for another, staring blankly at the scratchings of ink, though not reading a thing. The source of Odhranos' worries are plenty. Firstly, his most recent interaction with Tsuola had branded Quintessa a danger to the the Guild, plotting the corruption and destruction of the Xalious tree, along with it's kin. Odhranos fears to follow through and confront Quintessa, when he has so few allies remaining. Sven above, he only recently condemned one friend to exile, was he now to betray another? Secondly, the matter of the boy, Peter Ealhstan. Odhranos loves his Guild as his family, and the Tower as his home. But does that justify taking a child away from his family, from his home, in service of the "greater good of the Guild"? Granted, the terramancer is no fan of the Larketian Crown, but the heavy handed actions of the guild left a sour taste in his throat. And then, to top it all off, Odhranos is still plagued with guilt. The guilt of having a hand in the death of a race. There are few in Lithrydel who could say that they had killed a Razurath. Odhranos is one of the few who can say he played a part in killing them all. Even now, months later, Odhranos can recall the stench that pervaded Trist'oth. The stink that even now causes bile to rise in his throat. Choking, Odhranos drops the book with a bang and covers his mouth, desperately trying to stem the flow of vomit that burgeons upwards, burning his throat. After a moment, he stomachs the bile, now gasping for air. He doubles over, drool dripping to the ground as he twists the fabric of his robes in his clawed hands. "Murderer, traitor, kidnapper, Xalious curse me." The mage whimpers as he stoops to collect the book, wiping it off his robes before stashing it back on the shelf. "I need to leave this Guild before it consumes me." Odhranos whispers to himself, grasping at the shelf for support.

Administrator Brenwyn appears behind Odhranos seemingly from nowhere, with the impeccable timing common to all figures of authority on a mission. That is, he appears moments after Odhranos mutters his traitorous intentions. Did Brenwyn hear the provost? He certainly could have, but his inscrutable expression betrays nothing. “Provost Kerrigan, you look ill. Is this a bad time?” Brenwyn’s arrival draws students’ attention away from their studies and towards the administrator who has long commanded respect but not fear. Avuncular is the word that had long been used to describe the administrator, but as of late the administrator has lost a lot of his congeniality. It’s no wonder, given all that has happened with the drow, the Razurath, the Larketians. Who could blame Administrator Brenwyn for adopting a more sour expression and more stern disposition, and, oddly, a more sophisticated fashion sense. Perhaps that too was strategic? Perhaps the council, grasping at the reins to steady the bucking guild, has decided to strike a different figure, and perhaps that explains Brenwyn’s sudden change in fashion, and a wardrobe that in recent months seems to only include long elven robes in shades of mustard, moss and cactus yellow, and feldspar.

Odhranos physically lurches at the sound of the Brenwyn's voice, wheeling around and fixing him with startled eyes. "Administrator! I, no, that is…" Odhranos shuts his mouth and straightens himself, his posture corrected and facial features arranged appropriately. "No, sir, I'm fine. Perhaps today's lunch was a bit heavy on my stomach is all. It's nothing." Odhranos' words show no hint of hesitation, but the cold droplet of icy sweat that runs down his spine sends the slightest of shivers through the mage. Of all the people to possibly come across him, Brenwyn is undoubtedly the worst choice. These past few months, the Administrator has become increasingly diligent in his observation of the Provost, checking in on him at seemingly random hours, requiring regular reports on Odhranos' students and research, as well as holding a general overbearing presence on the terramancer whenever they meet. This time is no different. "Can I help you with something Administrator?" Odhranos asks tentatively, hoping that this was just a chance encounter.

Brenwyn attempts a smile. His smiles once appeared natural, but recently they appear like a sudden crack in his face. Again, it’s no wonder, the guild is under so much pressure. “No, no Provost Kerrigan. I wish to help you. Well, not help, not exactly. I wish to thank you. Come, I have something for you in the Shrine of Magic.” Brenwyn waves his arm towards the library’s exit, the billowing sleeves waving like a banner. He walks alongside the provost as an equal, instead of a step ahead as had been his habit as of late. Perhaps some of his old congeniality is returning yet. As they walk to the shrine, Brenwayn says, “I haven’t been easy on you, Provost. I am sure you have noticed my interest in your research and teaching methods, and the performance of your students. You’ve handled the pressure admirably, though I was not surprised by that.” Another crack wrenches his lips apart, exposing his teeth. The lips twist into place like iron bars twisted apart after an explosion. “But your efforts were not in vain. No efforts in The Guild go unrewarded.” Uncharacteristically, he opens the door to the Shrine and waves for Odhranos to enter the chamber before him. Inside, Kaaname, Foreza, and Kyl’oriel sit at a small, round table under the chandelier. Every professor and researcher of the guild is present, sitting in chairs aligned in neat semi-circles around the round table. The round table is covered by a tablecloth bearing the emblem of the guild. A scroll, an open tome, a quill and an inkwell sit on the table. Kaaname, Kyl’oriel and Foreza stand when Odhranos enters. Kaaname says, “Provost Kerrigan, please, approach the table.” As Odhranos passes the seated faculty members, they all begin to rise.

Shrine of the Grand Magic

Odhranos returns Brenwyn's smile, though it is not the kind of smile that normally graces Odhranos' lips. It has a slightly forced quality to it, as if slightly pained. "All necessary measures, I imagine, sir. It is the Administrator's duty to know all of what goes on in the Guild, after all." Odhranos dips his head slightly in appreciation for Brenwyn's praise however. Once they reach the Shrine of Magic, Odhranos is taken back by Brenwyn's deference at the door. Surely it would have been more appropriate for Odhranos to hold the door, no? The question is left unanswered, as Odhranos strides into the room and feels the weight of countless eyes settling on his shoulders, withering him beneath their intense stares. The terramancer is apprehensive, last time this many of the Guild were assembled, one of their number was being cast out. Had the time really come for Odhranos too? He stands dumbfounded until Kaaname addresses him. "Provost." Odhranos bows politely at the door before slowly approaching the table. "May I ask why I have been summoned, sir? I was unaware we were assembling today."

“Don’t look so nervous, Provost, this is a celebration,” says Kyl’oriel. A light chuckle dusts throughout the room, starting with Kyl’oriel and fanning out towards the faculty at the back of the hall. Brenwyn circles around the table to stand opposite Odhranos. “As I was saying in the hall, Provost, the Guild has recognized your efforts both inside and outside the classroom. You have served your students as an adept teacher, you are a prolific researcher, and you carry out the more...political… duties of the guild with the right balance of integrity, discretion, and loyalty.” The last word hangs in the air, punctuated by a protracted silence. Brenwyn breaks that silence, “That loyalty is reciprocal. I speak for the council and our gathered colleagues when I say that you have risen above what is expected of a provost, and thus your title should reflect that vaulted service. We are here to formally induct you as a Magister of the The Mages Guild, an honor few have achieved, even on the Council.” The faculty erupts in applause. As the applause dies down, Foreza adds, “Administrator Brenwyn overlooked your service in the Mages martial matters as well. We are a largely peaceful organization, but not without our teeth, and you’ve performed well in that arena as well, which I personally am grateful for. Yes, the politics of our last engagement was messy, but ultimately we did the right thing. Those Razurath were enslaving mages, and we must defend our own!” Another round of applause for Odhranos’s service in Trist’oth and the vanquishing of the mage enslavers! Kyl’oriel unfurls the scroll which bears the oath and looks to Odhranos. “Are you ready?”

Odhranos experiences what could only be considered a rollercoaster of emotions. At first, the immediate relief at Kyl'oriel's joke, tinged with some embarrassment, but it did quirk the mages lips up, if only instinctively. As Brenwyn takes up his position behind the table, Odhranos can feel the incredulity building in his chest with every word from the administrators mouth. Granted, he is glad that his teaching and research were being appreciated, but still, the tinge of doubt sullied whatever positive emotions the mage could have experienced. Odhranos barely registers the heavy silence which Brenwyn impresses with the notion of loyalty, but the following words bring him back down to earth again. Magister? Odhranos? A Magister?! Surely not, he had barely been a Provost for months, such a thing was unheard of. Odhranos glances around the room. Surely any moment now, the veil will be dispersed and Lanlan will be revealed, screeching with laughter from the corner as his dupe is revealed. But the moment never came, and Odhranos finds himself presented with the scroll laid before him that promises greater heights to his tenure and further opportunities to his research. Odhranos takes an involuntary step forwards, though it is hesitant. This is wrong, a part of him cries out. You need to escape, leave, run, before they sink their claws into you deeper. But another voice chimes in. Sinister, pervasive, insidious. And for all of that, hopeful. "Perhaps you can make a change?" It whispers. With the power of a Magister, perhaps you can help guide this Guild back to the light before it is too far gone? Odhranos' spirit wavers and his doubts are silenced as the sibbilant whispers of hope smother them. "I am ready." Odhranos answers, his eyes lit with a fire that has been absent for quite some time. The terramancer, it seems, has recovered his mettle.

Kyl’oriel raises his left hand and shoots a beam of blue arcane energy (harmless, focused mana) up at the chandelier and nods for Odhranos to mirror his action and do the same. Once they are both connected to the arcane-bejeweled chandelier, Kyl’oriel begins. He reads aloud the oath, pausing for Odhranos to repeat the words. “I, Odhranos Kerrigan,... faithfully swear before the gaze of Xalious... that I will faithfully perform the duties... of Magister Templi of the Mages Guild,... and will to the best of my ability.... preserve and defend the noble principles of arcana... from corruption both within and without the body of the guild… as Xalious has ordained.” Once Odhranos has completed the oath, Administrator Brenwyn writes his name into the Master Ledger on the table with an enchanted quill. The ink shimmers silver and the translucent copy of the letters float up into the chandelier, the permanent record of Magister Templies, Sublime Masters, and Archmages so that the information is not lost should anything happen to the tome. Brenwyn speaks. “I now introduce you to your colleagues a Magister Odhranos Kerrigan.” The faculty breaks out in yet another round of applause. Kaaname speaks this time. “One last surprise is in store for you, Odhranos. Oriyan has asked to step down from the governing mage’s council to go on sabbatical. There is an opening on the governing council, and we’d like you to fill his seat. What do you say?”

Odhranos takes a deep breath as he raises his arm, splaying his fingers in the air. Dusty grey light pools around his fingers before extending upwards, grasping the chandelier and binding Odhranos to it with a misty beam of grey. I, Odhranos Kerrigan, faithfully swear before the gaze of Xalious that I will faithfully perform the duties of Magister Templi of the Mages Guild, and will to the best of my ability preserve and defend the noble principles of arcana from corruption both within and without the body of the guild…" Odhranos pauses to wet his lips which have grown dry through his oath, though whether from nerves or merely the dry atmosphere is unknown. Raising his head high, Odhranos completes his oath; "as Xalious has ordained.” Once the script has disappeared into the depths of the chandelier, Odhranos gazes around at his colleagues and permits himself a small, genuine smile. His expression turns to one of curiosity when Kaaname mentions having one last surprise, which in turn becomes open amazement. "It would be an honour." Odhranos breaks into a broad smile and bows deeply at the waist. "I hope I can serve the Guild well in Oriyan's stead. Thank you for this opportunity."

“Excellent!” Kyl’oriel claps Odhranos on the shoulder and gives it a light, rousing shake. “Well earned, Odhranos, well earned.” Kaaname, Foreza and the other faculty take turns shaking Odhranos’s hand and offering their heartfelt congratulations. Administrator Brenwyn goes last. His grip tightens a little and keeps Odhranos close as he says in a low voice, “The title is earned, but must also be kept. The Guild is in the middle of a shift, and I’m counting on you to help -me- steer it in the right direction.” He smiles one last time, this time a genuine smile, but it isn’t clear if the smile is for Odhranos’s sake, or his own.