RP:Necromancers in the Necropolis

From HollowWiki

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.


Synopsis: Ernest finds himself accepting an invitation into the Necromancer's Guild, while Raevyn catches up with Larewen on the separation issue.

Date: August 7th, 2019


Necropolis Foyer

Inside this ancient looking tomb are large stone sarcophagi, each sealed and oddly locked. You see several necromancers standing by one of the massive graves, locking it just seconds before you can see what's inside. They turn to you with a cold gaze, and stare through your soul before walking out, almost ignoring you completely. Finding no way to get into the graves here you finally give up on trying to figure out what lays within them. You may go to your east, south, west, north and recently somebody has removed a panel in the floor that leads down.



Raevyn stood in the middle of the large expansive foyer of the necropolis in silence, an otherworldly glow of green cast upon her soft features from the unholy scythe firmly clasped between both hands. With eyelids shut, the girl’s black painted lips began to move, a soft whisper ushered forth from the depths of her gullet. The language was archaic, lost to the ravages of time; Broken and harsh. As the whispers began to grow, the unoccupied space before the necromancer shimmered and wavered like a sheer curtain in a gentle breeze. The terrifying weapon in her hand lifted then, the long, curved blade slowly dragged downward toward the floor. As it passed through the ethereal shimmer, the tip of the scythe seemed to fade from view, and a large amethyst tear began to form. Despite being no sort of obstacle to impede her path, Raevyn seemed to struggle with forcing the weapon downward, as if it were caught on something. Little by little she made progress, until the tear began to widen, revealing something shadowy and tendril-like slithering behind. However, before the woman could fully open the tear, a horrifying shriek escaped and broke her concentration, causing Raevyn to stumble backward and fall upon her rear, yelling loudly, “DAMN IT!”


Ernest had been hanging out around here for multiple reasons. A: nobody cared that the man's skin had the consistency and appearance of beef jerky and B: nobody minded if he did a bit of item-cursing as long as he was off in a corner by himself. He had crossbow bolts to ready for the tournament coming soon. As he entered the area south of the blood fountain, looking for a nice quiet spot to get some meditating on very negative emotions done, he couldn't help but notice a faint glow coming from one of the structures and headed closer to get a look. Seemed like maybe someone else had the same idea he had? Or--wait, no, a different one. Well, similar anyhow. Aw, wait, was she trying to open a portal? That wasn't really a good idea, at least in his experience, but hey, at least she failed. Having witnessed the whole thing, the mummified cowboy took a couple of steps into the tomb, spurred boots clinking on the tiles, hat tipped ominously low, longcoat fluttering dramatically behind him, its edges glowing a faint ethereal blue as though the man were more of a spectre than a shambler. (He wasn't, but he liked to look the part.) If one had senses to detect such things, Ernest carried a powerful, yet odd sense of malevolence. It wasn't that the man meant anyone ill will--at least, not immediately--but more that there was just a general sense of cursedness about him, and especially about the book that he carried in the crook of his left arm. Which, I mean, makes sense for someone who curses a lot of items. "I wouldn't be so disappointed," he drawled, his voice a bit of a dry rasp. "In my experience, portals ain't nothin' but trouble."


Raevyn’s lip curled in annoyance as the mummified cowboy made his approach; Cold, blue eyes trailing his each and every step. “Everything is trouble.” she stated plainly. The girl soon managed to climb to her feet, that menacing scythe lifted and planted firmly so that she could lean upon it. Given Ernest’s mortal handicap, he might feel something draw him toward the weapon, perhaps even fear it in some regard - A side effect of its unusual properties toward all things of an undead nature. “But, sometimes trouble is something one needs to overcome to reach their goals” The girl looked over the man carefully, the dim lighting of the tomb barely allowing her to see his features in their entirety. However, she did recognize him, despite only having met once before. “At any rate, what brings you to this forsaken place? Solitude, or study?” The pale woman asked, shifting her stance to appear more confident.


Ernest shrugged at the question, releasing his grip on one of the bookmarks in the book. The faint wind which allowed his coat to flap dramatically behind him died down almost immediately, as though he'd been deliberately causing it just to make his entrance look cool. "Little o' both, I guess. Gotta prepare a few items. Tournament coming up, y'know. Speaking of items," he gestured towards the scythe, "I ain't the most -accomplished- self-taught wizard's apprentice in th' land, but it seems you got yerself quite a trinket, there." When it came to weapons, Ernest was hard to shake, but something about that blade--and he couldn't put his finger on what--was really quite fascinating. Maybe it had a curse of its own on it? Could be fun to try and replicate.


Raevyn seemed a bit out of the loop when she asked, “Tournament? What tournament?” It had been a very long time since the human had left the land of Vailkrin. She had been trapped in that infernal library, researching the multiple planes of existence, trying to figure out a way to step into a world concealed; ‘The plane between planes’ as the dragon had called it. The outside world had been all but forgotten at this point. “Oh yes. You are the man with curses, correct? I believe you opted to help my friend some time ago, Celaeno. Mage Library.” she replied, addressing his mention of item preparation. The necromancer’s gaze lifted to the blade of the scythe as Ernest drew his attention toward it. Quite the trinket indeed, she mused to herself. The thing had come in handy so many times, although its properties still puzzled her. One thing she were certain of, it did have an affect on the undead. Raevyn took a few steps forward, bringing the item closer to the duster-clad mummy man. As she did so, Ernest may feel some sort of gentle force, something that would urge him to step back or keep his distance. If his resolve was strong he would most likely be able to weather it, as while the necromancer advanced, she was courteous enough to keep a good few feet back. She knew what the thing was capable of. “It is something, alright. I… acquired it from the corpse of a fallen wraith. A creature created by someone called Arrecation. It is a fine weapon. It has come in handy in my more... dire needs.”


Ernest wasn't one to shy backwards just because someone brought a particularly cursed item close to him, but he did visibly shift his weight backwards just a bit as she approached him with that scythe. "It do anything 'sides rip open portals to who knows what?" he asked, attention still focused primarily on the weapon, but trying to remember the other things she said as well. "Celaeno, yup, curses, yup, that's me. Wonder where she got off to, I meant to show her this book I made." He tapped the book idly with his free hand, the one that seemed to be the most cursed out of all the things Ernest carried on him. "Maybe I'll see her at th' tournament--ah, yes, a tournament, up in Larket. Something something 'hero of freedom'. I don't care about all that. I just want a chance to fight Shishi." Speaking that name caused the man's entire outfit to pulse--not visibly, but with that gut feeling that something is very, very wrong, the sort of thing that makes your hair stand on end and gaze start flickering over your shoulder. The feeling would subside momentarily, but the book seemed to be even more strongly malevolent afterwards.


Raevyn mused a little on his words, gaze shifting from weapon to man. “Well, it’s not actually the scythe’s ability that opens the portals. However, it does act as some sort of amplifying conduit for my own ability. Otherwise, the only things that it does, that I know of, is spook dead things, conceal me from dead things, and have this interesting viridian glow. I really should seek an arch mage and see what they have to say about it.” As conversation shifted to talk of prior meetings and the tournament, Raevyn’s face showcased an expression of sorrow and her eyes began to water. It was brief, and she made sure to immediately discard to feelings as she answered Ernest. “I doubt she will be there. She… left. Some kind of journey. Left a note, and that was it.” Raevyn was obviously held sour feelings and quickly changed focus to the book the man carried. “A book you made? What sort of book? Casting spells? Curses? Is it some sort of talisman perhaps?” She smiled with intrigue. When Shishi’s name was mentioned, it wasn’t just Ernest that reacted. Something inside of the girl flashed. A memory of sorts. Of something long ago, something that she had not personally been privy to. She seemed worried. Perhaps startled. “I… I see. Larket, you say? When does this take place? Perhaps I can make it out to watch this spectacle. Heavens forbid I need a bit of a break from all of the gloom and shadow of this forsaken land.”


Ernest squinted at the scythe. Interesting. Sort of a Vulture's Shadow effect, but specifically targeting undead. No wonder he'd felt a need to get back from it. Hearing Celaeno had disappeared was another disappointment and he curled his lip a little in frustration. "'m sorry to here that," he said, trying to be compassionate. He'd managed to take his eyes off of the scythe long enough to catch the sadness--or at least, relative unhappiness--in her tone. Things seemed to pick back up quickly, however, when she asked about the book. Since she wasn't competing--and since he was starting to remember her from the mage tower, and that hinted that maybe she wouldn't go spilling his secrets to his competitors--he flipped it open and showed it to her. Inside it, there were no instructions, no writing--at least, not in any standard script. The pages were filled with small, painstakingly-drawn spell circles. Each one was unique and seemed to use multiple types of ink. Some actually incorporated runes similar to the ones Celaeno would use into their structure. Occasionally, one might find a rune by itself, or a short string of them, but for the most part the book was filled with sigils and circles. A knowledgable sort might recognize many or even all of them as -very- rudimentary spells that apprentices might use for practicing. "I ain't exactly what you'd call the most gifted mage," he said, explaining as he flipped pages. "I try to dig into a field, I hit a wall. So I moved on to the next one. And then the next one. And the next one." As he flipped pages, the inks changed and the angles began to differ. Fire magic here, simple arcane barriers here, necromancy there. "Book's got everything I learned in it. Pretty decent reference material, but I get the feeling you can tell that it ain't just yer average 'a beginner's guide to magic', yeah?"


“No, no it’s not,” came a silvery, melodic voice from the north. With it came that prickish aura Larewen was well-known by. Then came the necromancer herself, stepping into sight. Her mismatched gaze moved first to Ernest, then to the unrecognizable person next to him. A brow quirked upward as her gaze finally came to rest on the self-made grimoire. “I saw necromancy in there,” she says, her tone lifting an octave. She ran her left hand, which curiously enough was the only one wearing a glove, and brushed a few tresses of hair out of her face. “Students of the Necromancer’s Guild, are you?” It’s a strange question for the elf to ask, but she’d only just returned and part of her hoped that that would be the case. New students while she was absent.


While Raevyn did not consider herself an expert by any means, even she could recognize the level of skill that went into these circular scriptures. All she had done in her time in Lithrydel is study. Study, study, study. She often felt like her brain would come seeping out of her ears at some point. “Still, your understanding of the art is not something to be made light of. You’ve obviously made progress on your own.” She began to recognize patterns and sigils that she had once had no knowledge of. She understood his intentions, even if the results were rudimentary in some places. In others, he seemed to have a better grasp than he let on. “Have you tried focusing on a school? Or perhaps seeking out the guilds for further learning? It may help your refine the different aspects of your spells and curses. Specialized mages would really put an extra bit of ‘oomph’ in say, your fire spells. Or perhaps someone from the school of necromancy can help you focus on those more.. dastardly tricks in your arsenal.” When Larewen’s voice echoed through the expansive tomb, Raevyn turned her attention away from Ernest and straightened her posture. The other woman hadn’t seemed to recognize the human vessel, as indicated by her question. The scythe was shifted slightly, the eerie green glow cascading upon the necromancer’s face as she answered, “Magister Letum, actually.” Raevyn weren’t even sure if there were any other instructor’s left, these days. Khitti was gone. Larewen had been absent. Bradyn disappeared - Although, not before promoting the girl, perhaps a little too prematurely.


Ernest shook his head when questioned about focusing on a school or seeking out a guild to learn from. He probably should have, but to be honest, learning additional spells from a teacher had sounded like quite a lot of work--and he'd already put in his hard work when he was alive. Maybe later, he'd go back and pick a couple of things to focus on a little harder, but for now the book was a decent way forward. Before he could get to answering, however, the appearance of another person here gave him pause. Seemed he was bad at choosing places to find a bit of solitude. "An' while I--" he paused and raised an eyebrow at the Magister. Necromancer's guild folks! "So the talk of learning from someone about necromancy weren't just idle," he said with a bit of a grin, then turned his attention back to Larewen. "An' I ain't really anybody's student. Just picked up a few things here an' there. Trial an' error. Nothin' I raise has much substance to it."


Larewen blinked. Once, then twice. Clearly she was startled by this actualization. She recouped fast though, offering a warm smile for Nasada. “Is that so? Raevyn? Congratulations are in order, then,” the elf said, her voice honeyed. Larewen’s reputation as a prideful creature wasn’t exactly unknown. The necromancer listened as Ernest spoke, inwardly seething and possibly feeling a little bad, too. She’d abandoned things too many times, and it was by sheer fortune the Lady hadn’t returned to her House in ruins yet. “Of course not,” she replied to Ernest. “Necromancy will never die.” To Raevyn, she said softly, “I imagine it’d be okay with you then, that I posted a message to the board in Kelay reminding people that we’re looking for students.” There was no sign of amazement at Ernest’s feat, though a glimmer in the elf’s green eye might hint at it. Larewen had, after all, done much the same and earned her reputation largely by those means. “What she speaks is exactly as I would advise you, though less forceful.”


Raevyn nodded in confirmation. "Indeed. We are always looking for new students. To sow the seed of education, and to dispel the myth that necromancy is an evil magic. It can be used by anyone, for any reason. It's not all disturbing the dead and making others suffer." This was a lesson she had come to learn quickly in Lithrydel. The people here, while sharing some ignorance, had managed to at least not condemn a whole school of magic over more nefarious users. To Larewen, the younger woman offered a slight smile. "Of course. I know I am magister, but... I know that your experience outranks my own by quite some margin. If you are back to assume lead, then I will not interfere." There was something different in the human. She was more sure of herself, confident. She had matured. Grown, even. "And if you are to have a more prominent role, then... I may need your help. Regarding my situation, of course. The one with your friend. It seems he is more clever than I had come to understand."


Ernest grinned a little wider at the notion that necromancy wasn't just disturbing the dead and making people suffer. "Oh, I got that part easy enough. Actually made a lot more sense once I started experimenting with the book." The book, which Ernest now flipped back through to find the necromancy portions, and which pulsed again with that strange impersonal malevolence as though the extremely cursed item was well aware that Ernest was searching through it for something specifically. "Y'all might want to see this--if I'm gonna be learnin' necromancy from y'all, makes sense that you'd want to see what I can do, yeah? Seein' as you both are offerin' advice on the matter." After a moment of search, the mummy found the spell sigils he was looking for, and placed a finger in the middle of one and a second finger in the middle of a different one. Tapping a rune on the cover of the book with his other hand flipped a couple pages down, where he pressed one more spell sigil, keeping the first two held down at the same time. "May I?" he asked, wanting to get permission before demonstrating, just in case.


Larewen did show surprise this time. Both at Raevyn’s words declaring her intention not to interfere with Larewen—which may have just earned her a special place in the cold woman’s ever-beating, rotten heart. One that conflicted with earlier plans to bring back that which was in her. Conflicted, but didn’t negate. Larewen still very much intended to do it. “I appreciate that,” she said, earnestly. It assuaged her immediate assumption that doing just that would be more difficult. Her head canted to the side as Ernest vocalized he desire to show them something—his grimoire flared with power and her right eye, the brown one, watched the threads of magic glow with that bright necromantic green. She tried to read it, to learn more about the curse as she lifted her chin toward Ernest. “Show us.”


Raevyn nodded, taking a step backward or two. She wasn’t sure what might happen, and really didn’t want to bee too close in case something went awry. “Of course. By all means.” she offered in turn, eager to see what the showman was capable of. Whilst her focus would be on the potential student, Raevyn could not help but to keep Larewen in her periphery. It had been some time since they last met, and while she trusted the elder necromancer more than previous, she still had some reservations. Still, the woman was her best chance at gaining freedom from the thing that infested her body.


Ernest nodded, and then spoke a single command word--sort of like a passphrase, an obscure Orcish word for a particular behavior found in certain species of desert insect. The book reacted immediately, but it wasn't just the green wisps of necromantic magic that flowed from it--no, several different colors of magic erupted from the grimoire simultaneously and wove themselves together. A minor hydromancy cantrip woven together with a cryomancy cantrip to condense and then freeze water out of the air, which was then reshaped by the green tendrils of necromancy--going from a frozen puddle on the ground to a crawling hand made entirely of ice. The third spell erupting from the book engraved a row of runes on the ice. Ernest snapped his fingers, removing them from the book, trusting the item to maintain the small amount of effort needed to sustain the small creation. "C'mere, you," he said, and the runes on the ice hand lit up and it -caught fire-, then jumped, floating near-weightlessly on a little tornado of hot-meets-cold-air, before landing on top of Ernest's hat and doing a little bow, which Ernest then replicated. "That's what's special about the book I made," said Ernest with a wider grin, snapping it shut with one hand. "Maybe I ain't the most advanced mage ever, maybe I only know a few spells--but the book lets me cast 'em all at once."


Larewen watched as several elements of magic converge on one, from both her right eye and the left at the same time. Both with and without the magical threads. It was a brilliant display of artistry, that she knew for certain. When the creature caught fire, Larewen’s lips came together in a gentle ‘o’ of surprise. So -that- was where the fire came in. “You cursed the book with something so intricate as to do that?” she asked, completely surprised. She expected less from a homegrown user of magic. Her gaze moved to Raevyn, and belated she said, “Oh, you're aware of him now?" she appeared surprised a second time.


Raevyn's eyes widened with wonder and mirth, a jovial grin overtaking her as-of-late stern expression. She had been so enthralled in the dark side of magic that she forgot about the wonderful and amusing things that could be accomplished. It reminded her of those days as a child when her parents would take her into the city during the summer festival and all of the street performers would be showcasing colorful spells to amaze the magically impotent. "Very clever!" the girl exclaimed, tucking the pole of her scythe into her underarm so she could offer a mild applause. "That is quite creative. I've not seen such a display in quite some time!" Raevyn glanced to Larewen next, that smile fading slightly. "More than you could understand. I have seen his face. We have even spoken through his workings. His tome. I found it." Once more she turns focus to Ernest, "You have a gift. Something that should be nurtured. I will not pressure your decision, but I strongly urge you to contemplate further study. If only part time - It could only be to your benefit."


Ernest shook his head when Larewen asked if that was what he cursed the book to do. "Not... exactly. It's both more and less complex than that--" and as he flipped through the book, letting them see the pages, there were many many more sigils he could have put his fingers on. Pages and pages full of different variants and shapes of similar cantrips. It seemed that, while it may have appeared quite elegant, Ernest's solution to weaving spells together was to brute-force it, given he had sigils for multiple different possible variations and combos. Sure, it worked, but it wasn't a very efficient use of time or magic resources. "--and I'd show you exactly how the curse -works-, but I suspect you'd be rather upset with me if I did." The little hand on his hat doused its flame and slid down to perch on his shoulder. "Regardless, I s'pose if y'all have space for me at yer guild, I ain't opposed to learnin' me a few more tricks." He flicked the hand with a finger and it shattered into icy shards and promptly melted. "Like I said, nothin' I raise has much substance. Most I've ever been able to bring to life is a horse skeleton, an' even that I had to reinforce with about three different layers of other spells before it would support my weight, let alone take a hit."


Larewen pressed her lips together, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s time, then. And I’ll assume you’d rather keep your body,” she mused aloud, raising her arms and crossing them over her torso. “I’m certain we can necromance a body reliable enough to house him. It’ll require quite a bit of magic, though.” What she was saying was that she needed to be able to use Raevyn as a battery. Her attention returns to Ernest a moment later and she nodded again. “We certainly have room to accommodate you, and if you need lodgings, I am able to provide that as well. We can help you become better attuned to magic so that you can cast it in more natural ways, and hopefully in time you’ll not have that problem again.”


Raevyn listened to Ernest's explanation, pleasure derived from his acceptance of the offer of a scholarship within the guild. "Excellent. We are always eager to teach." she replied with a smile. The conversation deviated briefly back toward Larewen. "Yes. I am very much fond of my own body, thank you. I've been with it a very long time and really do not want to have to move." A bit of a levity to keep herself in higher spirits. "However... it will be a bit of a task to separate us. There is something hidden that I am required to find. I have found one already, and it has been confiscated by Khitti for the time being. There are two more, one trapped in a plane between planes, and the other I am working to decipher its location. It's been... not exactly an easy time." A gentle shrug leapt from the necromancer's shoulder to end her explanation as she soon turns back to Ernest. "Very well, as Larewen said lodgings are available. I can set up the paperwork and mail you a copy of things you will need to know. Where is it that you collect your mail, if I may ask?"


Ernest started paying attention to the side conversation as soon as someone said "quite a bit of magic" and started flipping to the back of his book. "At th' moment, I collect it up in Larket, since I'm there for th' tournament. If I may--?" Distracted momentarily from this guild business and more focused on the other business, he let out a little "aha!" and then turned the book back to face them. "Th' one area where I may humbly suggest I'm rather more advanced is in cursin'. Th' book, for example. Any number of crossbow bolts on my person. I happen to have a curse which might be able to supply you with a hefty amount of energy--same curse that's in th' book here--but it ain't gonna be comfortable. I'd be willing to help y'all out with your energy supply problems as a way of payin' fer your teachin' services."


A low growl rumbled in the depths of Larewen’s throat at the mention of Khitti. Especially since Khitti actively sought to protect Raevyn from Larewen. Not a bad move to make, but perhaps it did buy Raevyn her livelihood. Otherwise, and there was no telling, but Larewen probably would have done something that resulted in Raevyn being closed away. After all, her desire to see an old friend again weighed much heavier on her priorities. “Perhaps I can help you with that, but what about the first item? If Khitti is holding it, I doubt she’ll be keen to give it up if I’m the one doing the ritual.” Ernest spoke then, and Larewen’s attention turned toward the mummy. She made the correlation quick between crossbow bolts, casting his magic, and the fact that he definitely meant he’d have to shoot her a few times with an arrow. “I’d prefer my ways, but if that’s how it’s to be done….”


Raevyn addressed Larewen first with furrowed brow. "To be fair to Khitti... I have acted in a rather dangerous and rash method. She only sought to protect me, and perhaps others around me. She's saved my life once, due to the affliction of 'his' tome. I have been meaning to speak with her, once I obtain the other two items. She... doesn't have to know that you are performing the ritual, however. I do not think it would go over well, either." To Ernest, Raevyn then offered, "I appreciate that you are willing to help. I can only imagine that it will be of great importance. Thank you."


Ernest nodded as they seemed to accept his help and started placing his hands on various spell sigils--this one was a terramancy circle, this one was a string of runes, this one was the ugly, twisted shape of the actual curse in question. "I'll need a location to curse, and you'll have to be aware that the cursed location will siphon away all the current magic energy of a person inside the location. Obviously, the effect doesn't render a person completely magically inert, and I suppose if you're quick enough passing through it, the curse won't eat -all- your magic, but you may find difficulty casting anything for several hours after passing through the region. On the plus side, the location will store all that energy until you release it with the command word to cast your spell, which means you can hold many days' worth of magic there, and cast without straining yourself." He didn't really know anything else about this ritual, but if it needed a massive amount of power, he could give that to them--provided they were willing to give up casting for a little while. That was the discomfort he'd mentioned.


Larewen allowed Raevyn’s words to largely roll off her shoulders—there was history between the elf and Khitti, and it wasn’t good. But in the end, the two women agreed, and that was more than enough. When Ernest explained how it would work, and his explanation was entirely different than what she had expected, being the dark creature she is, she blinked. Once, twice, then her lips formed the word, “No.” No, because it would trap Larewen. Suddenly, she was wary of the mummified corpse. She would be caught in it, eternally.


Raevyn lofted a brow as she listened to the explanation, surprise coming from Larewen's response. She didn't outright know what the elder saw in this idea that was so worrisome, but did not want to abandon it entirely. She thought for a few moment in silence before she would offer, "I can do it. You can use my magic. I... I know there's something there that it can feed off of. I can do little bits at a time. Until we are certain we have enough to work with." She looked to Larewen in a reassuring manner. "We can mark the location out in the Vailkrin woods. Near the tower. We can build a conduit of some sort to link that power to the tower to pull the magic from when it is time to perform the ritual. This way, you won't have to go near the cursed ground." She looked between the pair, "What do you think?"


Larewen shook her head again, this time more adamantly. “No,” she repeated sharply. Her gaze still settled upon Ernest. “I refuse to step foot in that place, even after it has been cursed.” There was something akin to blatant fear that flickered across her features. Was it her greatest fear, losing magic for even a moment’s time? Or was there some secret she harbored, something that would be affected by her magic that was potentially world destroying? If not that, it could definitely spell the end for Vailkrin? Either way, something about that idea terrified her to her core.


Ernest had thought Raevyn's idea had been a rather clever one. Even if Larewen didn't want to contribute to the location-based mana battery he was looking to create, Raevyn's idea to deliver the power to another place would definitely have kept her from having to have her own magic drained. "Alternatively, if you can work out a spell circle or sigil for th' magic you're trying to cast, an' engrave it on the ground before I curse it, whoever stands in th' circle once it's charged all th' way up an' says th' command word will make the spell activate through th' sigil. That way, you only have to be involved for th' setup." Probably another idea she wouldn't be fond of, but it was worth a shot.


Raevyn frowns. Something was up and Larewen didn't seem to want to share, it seemed. Raevyn wouldn't press her. Not now, at least. The scythe she had been leaning upon was now relaxed against her shoulder, one foot crossing in front of the other as she listened to Ernest's next idea. She herself had no qualms, but in the end, the decision was entirely upon Larewen. She was the one that knew what this sort of ritual would require, or what may be best in terms of preparing for the end result. The young necromancer put her trust in the elder woman, and so would go along with whatever idea she felt best. Pale blue eyes lifted once more to Larewen, seeking her thoughts on this additional plan.


Larewen exhaled deeply, her brow furrowed. “It’s too risky,” she said abruptly to even this more sensible plan. Her gaze moved back to Nasada. “How much magic can a human body handle? The only way I am doing this is through you. I can’t take the risk of walking into that circle.” And not coming back out. But again, for which cause? Something dark passed behind her eyes this time. “We can try charging multiple vessels and hopefully that will be enough magic.”


Ernest shrugged and removed his fingers from the book and closed it. "Ain't no skin off my nose," he said. "Just tryin' to help. I s'pose I can keep working on tweaks, or other ideas--hm." Drumming his fingers lightly on the book, he tilted his head a little in thought. "What about setting up a location which amplifies magic cast through it, tied to a feedback loop? Magic goes in," he snapped a small hand-crossbow into his hand from a holster in a motion so fast one might have sworn there was supposed to be a movement in between, "spins around an' around." He started the weapon spinning on his finger, slow at first, then faster and faster until it was just a whirling blur on his hand. "An' then, when you got enough juice built up," He tossed his book into the air, snapped the handle of his crossbow into his hand, turned the crossbow sideways, and fired--snatching the bolt out of midair with his now-free hand in an equally lightning-fast motion. Wouldn't have been proper to demonstrate this without a bit of sharpshooting. Then, just to keep showing off, he tossed the bolt back into the air, cocked the crossbow, reached out a hand, caught the falling book with that hand and caught the crossbow bolt in the chamber of his weapon. "No magic stolen from anybody. 'Course, things have a tendency to become a little unstable that way, an' it sounds like y'all are shootin' somethin' just a mite delicate."


Raevyn looked puzzled and thought upon Larewen's question. "I... I don't know, really. I never thought about it. I guess it would depend on things like age, size... maybe how long they had been practicing?" She bit her lip and nodded, "Of course. This is my plight, I should take the risks. I do not expect you, either of you, to do anything that would put yourselves in danger." Widening her stance for balance, Raevyn held out her right hand and opened her palm. In a display of confident ability, a newfound ability at that, a large fleshbound tome appeared from a haze of ebon and amethyst. This was a trick she were quite proud of; Something she had witnessed Khitti pull off before she was admitted into the Necromancer's guild. As the pages were flipped open, a strange whisper could be heard echoing throughout the necropolis. It was unnatural and bled evil, as if the writing and incantations were crying out. Larewen might recognize the tome as one belonging to someone from her past; His essence and knowledge spilled from its unholy pages. "This... this could work. If we get a few willing participants, perhaps students from the guild, we could use Ernest's... uhm... feedback loop to collect the mana and distribute it when needed?" She continued to flip through the pages, soon coming to rest upon a passage that were written in both red and violet ink. "Or... something like this could work as well? We craft these... uhm, I think the word is talisman? Ugh, he made this so annoying to decipher. And give them to the students. They can channel their mana into the loop and then siphon it out through the talismans, which we can then use as a source of power. It would eliminate the stability issue, maybe."


Larewen listened as they both spoke, carefully contemplating both ideas. They had their merit, but one would inflict unneedless harm upon Raevyn. Did they know that as well? Could she chance them knowing that? It would certainly make things rougher than they needed to be right now. Finally, Larewen lifts her head. “Use the students, and I will draw the magic from the talisman,” she agreed finally.


Ernest squinted. Her book was cooler than his book. Not only could it be stored in some kind of nowhere space, but it was made out of... something rather unsettling. Note to self, figure out a cooler way of storing the book than just "a large internal pocket" or "the crook of your arm". Of course, that would mean learning more magic, which... he supposed he ought to do, and had already basically signed up for. There was that, at least. "I'm... not a hunnerd percent certain I actually -have- a spell combo in here for something like that," he said, holstering his crossbow again, grimacing slightly as his trickshooting hadn't seemed to be at all as impressive to them as his magic stunt earlier, despite having taken way longer to perfect, "but then, that's why I'm here, yeah? Guess we better hit the books sooner rather'n later--but then, I do have a tournament to compete in still."


Raevyn nods. "It will... take a bit of time, regardless. There are things I must seek out that are needed before we can put this into motion. For now, you can focus on your tournament. We can gradually come up with some method of making this work. I will also work on the necessary paperwork to get your entrance into the necromancer's guild underway." the girl offered with a smile. She would then peer upon Larewen, " I will have the talisman made. Perhaps we can catch up in private sometime, soon. I can fill you in on the intricacies that your... friend has set up. Perhaps get some assistance in deciphering his wording."


Larewen lifted her head again, nodding her agreement. And then a smile graced her lips as well. Delight at the idea that soon, her friend would return. A glance was cast back toward Ernest and she said, "Once the paperwork is filled out, we can begin lessons." Then she turned her attention toward Raevyn. "I am available now, if you wanted to go ahead and do that. Otherwise, you'll find me in the usual place."


Ernest nodded, sensing that this meeting was coming to a close. If they wanted to discuss things on their own, that was fine with them--he did, after all, have items to prepare. "I look forward to seein' a letter in th' mail, then," he said, tipping his hat to them both. "I'll let y'all have yer discussion about yer friend. Th' one whose book yer usin'," he added, as a way of showing that he might not have known all the details but that he was still following along well enough. "Like I said earlier, I got some items to prepare for th' tournament. Gonna have to add a name to some curses." Which name, he didn't say, but with that as his adieu, he turned and clinked his way out of the foyer.


Raevyn bowed her head gently to Ernest as he made his final statements for the evening. "Thank you. Welcome to the guild, by he way. And best of luck in your tournament! If I can make it out, I will be there to watch. Perhaps take some of the students out to support a fellow guild member." The girl offered a friendly wink, soon addressing Larewen, "I can do that. Um, should we move somewhere we can sit? I've been on my feet for far too long, this day. A little rest and a drink would be nice."


Larewen offered Ernest another smile, though there was no warmth in the expression. It was said the necromancer was incapable of it, and that was probably mostly true. "Best of luck," she said, lifting her head slightly. A moment later, she turned on her heel and waved Raevyn alongside her as she moved northward. "The Corpse will do fine," she said.




Hanging Corpse Tavern

Raevyn follows closely behind Larewen as they enter the Hanging Corpse. For the most part, the girl said nothing of relevance, mostly nodding and mulling over any thoughts Larewen might have let loose on the short trek from the Necropolis. The scythe in grasp had been banished to the shadows to give the girl a bit more mobility, while the unholy tome of the former demonic necromancer was clutched tightly against her chest. When they'd finally found a table and ordered drinks, Raevyn would set the tome upon the table. "I will be so glad when all of this is over. I can only imagine how you must feel." the girl commented. "Which is... why I think it is good that you have returned. Truthfully, I think that because of your relationship with... him... that you are best to help me solve his ridiculous little puzzle."


Larewen likely said very little, but undoubtedly made poor attempts at small talk along the way. Isn't that what you're supposed to do? She wasn't sure, but she was trying. That ought to say something about the power hungry woman. Many times, her gaze was not set upon the woman, but the tome she carried. Nasada's return was actually a tangible reality, and to a woman who's lost many friends over the years, that's saying something. When they reached the establishment, Larewen followed Raevyn's steps to a table and ordered bloodwine. A moment later, the woman spoke--and Larewen noticed in that moment that Raevyn was certainly a woman now, though she'd seen her as a mere girl before. "He was a very dear friend," she said solemnly, as if he's dead and not just trapped within another's body. "Whom I miss very much."


Raevyn seemed remorseful. Empathetic of Larewen's pain. Although she could feel, even experienced the vile blackness of the creature's being, she could also sense his more compassionate feeling toward the elder necromancer. "I'm sorry. I know what it's like to lose a friend. Someone that you admire and love, so very much." Sadness filled her eyes as she thought back to a certain silver-handed half-elf that had long since gone from the land. Celaeno was the girl's only real friend; That one person that no matter what, she could count on. The only good thing to come out of her absence, is that Raevyn found it within herself to grow. Even if it meant she would become more callous and uncaring toward most. "But, when this is done and over, there is a very good chance that you and your friend will reunite. I know... that there are some in this land that are not keen on seeing Nasada return. And I can not say that I do not have my own concerns. But if I can have my life back, then I do not care what happens. If I have to, I will leave this land. Find my way back home, maybe." Raevyn opened the book and began to flip through pages. "Celaeno and I found this tome in Larket. It's obviously his book. I have taken months translating it, and even then, I am only halfway through. When we first found this book, all of the text was red." She points to the ancient, crimson stains of blood. "However, a few months back, I found myself stuck in the plane of shadow. There I found a strange flaming stone." Raevyn flips to another page, one depicting a hellish looking sword embedded in some sort of pillar that had been drawn in the same red ink as before. However, above it, show three oval stone-like objects in a violet ink. "When i returned from the plane of shadows, this violet colour permeated the book, revealing many new passages and diagrams that I had never seen before. These three stones are important somehow. The first I found is with Khitti. The second, I have discovered the location... I think. It is not sitting in the shadow plane like the other. A dragon I met recently told me that I should look into the plane between planes, or something to that effect. However, I can not seem to open the portal no matter how much I try."


Larewen arched a brow upward. "A plane between planes?" she echoed, hmming thoughtfully to herself. "If it exists, I can find a way to open it. Especially if there is magic in these stones. You'll need to get the one back from Khitti as soon as you possibly can. Assuming there is magic that binds them to releasing Nasada, then there should be traces of it in the stone. I can follow that thread to the second one. And it'll help us uncover the locale of the third." The way Larewen spoke, it sounded easy. Finding the stones. But then, there's whatever laid between them and the stone on the other side of the portal she'd open. As she spoke, their drinks were delivered. Tentatively, Larewen raised her ungloved right hand and gestured toward the book. "May I see it?"


Raevyn sips upon her tea with both hands now around the cup. "Mmhm. That was my first thought. I didn't know such a thing were possible, honestly. This dragon, he said that it was very much a dangerous place. With nightmarish and powerful entities that could make things very dangerous." The girl nods when Larewen asked to see the book, making no motion to stop her. "I know the second stone is in Cenril. I can see its glow. The cathedral there, it's in the tower. But the tower does not exist in the shadow plane, although the stone's glow shines brightly high above the ruin. As Larewen looks at the book, she would see that upon the page they are currently on, the passages speak of a 'Crimson Blade', and the stones being keys. Sentences are made up of letters from multiple languages, some that may be unknown to even her as they are the language of Arrecation, the father of demons. Worse, is that many of the sentences seem unfinished and broken, as if much of the writing were still missing. If she were to flip through the book, she would find a vast library of musings from the past, spells, architectural diagrams for devious items and weaponry, and even journal entries. Her own name would be there in some passages, yet much like that first page that Raevyn had shown, there were a lot of passages and words missing, making everything very much hard to fully decipher. "I will meet with Khitti when I can. She... helped me with this book once before. When it tried to infect me. However, she was very much concerned that I had both items, so the stone is with her for safe keeping."


Larewen listened as she took the tome from Raevyn, her fingers gently caressing its binding as she did so. She began to flip through the pages, eyes skimming over all the various types of content visible within. Her finger traced the writing, and for a brief moment, Larewen fancied the idea that that’s as close as she’s gotten to actually seeing her old friend in a long, long time. “Is there anything I can do in the meantime?” she asked after a few more moments of reminiscing, her mismatched gaze returning to the woman.


Raevyn set her cup down, finger gently caressing the rim as she thought about what Larewen might be able to do. "I'm not sure. If you could find out more about this plane between planes, or how we might access it, it would be of great help. There is some sort of trick to it, that the dragon told me about. He said something to the effect of the membrane to this plane would require some sort of chronomancy. That the portal would seal itself far quicker than one could enter, and that some sort of ability to slow time would be beneficial. I am no chronomancer, but I have worked on a field of sorts that slows things that enter it. Although, it is very much temporary, and I can not use it while trying to open a rift."


Larewen pressed her lips together thinly as Raevyn spoke, her furrowed brow only furrowing more deeply. “There’s only so many planes that could have that trait. I’ll see what I can find out in the Mage’s Library,” she said after a moment. Then her gaze moved towards the exit as she considered something. Whatever it was, it was brief. “I have something to show you. At the manor,” she said. “Something no one must know. It is not only my life on the line, if I were to enter that curse.” As she spoke, her fingers fidgeted with the edge of one of the pages. Larewen was uncomfortable, and it showed in her very body posture.


Raevyn looks up from her cup, confusion and concern gracing her pale features. Was this the same worry she saw earlier in the Necropolis? "Not only your life on the line? What do you mean?" She looked around the fairly quiet tavern. "Is this why you were so against Ernest's ideas? Well, I suppose I could venture to your manor if it is important. If it is something I should know."


Larewen nodded her head once, then a second time. "Of course, I AM concerned for my own well-being, and that's why if you ever repeat what I say, I'll see to it that you don't survive the separation," she said soon after, draining the remainder of her glass. A moment later, she scooted her chair back and rose to her feet. "Come then," she beckoned, and began walking out the exit.

Raevyn looked a bit offended. Fearful. Yet, she understood. "Of course. I promise my secrecy." Following Larewen's lead, Raevyn gathered her book and followed along behind the elder necromancer.