RP:Revenant, Returned

Part of the Lies Within Us Arc

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Summary: While the rest of the Mages Guild gathers in Frostmaw, one lone Kensai finds himself resurrecting in a rather precarious position.

The Mage Tower: Provost’s Floor

Kasyr is at peace. But then, he has every reason to be- despite the events that had led to his current state of being. It is true that he'd eked out a miserable and painful period of time fighting against an eldritch infection, struggling against the relentless desecration of his body. And more than once, he'd wound up regretting his ultimate decision to confront his demise alone, as the isolation had weighed upon him heavily. Frankly, it had perhaps even been cruel on his part to leave his companions with little more than a series of cryptic notes, and a mystery to investigate in his wake. And yet, when his flesh had ultimately failed him- he was not greeted with a fiery perdition, nor the insidious and sibilant whispers of an otherworldly ophidian. Nor, was he provided with a hero's welcome into the heavenly plane. No, what had awaited the Kensai was a far simpler reunion- his spirit once more drawn into the divine space that had been created for it by Daedria, and which allowed him to more closely commune with his Matron Ascendi- to draw some degree of reassurance by even the echo of her presence. More concretely, it also meant that his spirit was shunted into the Phylactery she'd created- which happened to be the humble little Lyre he'd so often left lying about in his office, laying alongside the perpetual pile of empty wine bottles. ...Frankly, it's placement had nearly resulted in it being hurled out with the trash when the content of his office had been archived- but it had ultimately been stowed away in storage boxes along with the Kensai's academic papers, in the instance that there might be some merit to any of his findings. ...That said, given his general reputation as an alcoholic, as well as his less then academic demeanour- this also meant his boxes had ultimately been piled into a storage closet. Alongside some Janitorial supplies. Which is to say it's rather crowded, which makes the next moment a bit awkward. Because the Kensai has been posed. Waiting, in fact, for the moment where his Daedria honed sense of Dramatic Timing finally egged him into reaching out from the Phylactery- trusting in it's divine mechanisms to form flesh from faith. What he'd -not- been prepared for, was the moment his now corporeal form wound up pressed against a door- a broom tangled between his legs, and the handle pressed up against the side of his head. And nor was he really expecting the ensuing collapse of boxes behind him- which saw him banging against the door in a less than glorious return. "Calice."

Outside the Archives, and by Archives, we mean the storage lockers of the Provost's floor, a lone mage snoozes against the wall, a spherical cage propped up on their lap. The cage's heart is empty, but the light passing through it is heavily distorted, so that one moment, the far side of the cage appears a million miles away and the next, one could pick out the individual flecks of quartz in the veined and banded marble the cage is carved of. Cradling this marble cage like a baby, the sleeping mage rests her cheek against the wall, her long black hair mushed untidily between cheek and wood-panelling. This part of the Mage Tower has been largely undisturbed by Haladavar's influence, the floors below bustle with dutiful Ossian's going about their dutiful business, while the floors above are interchangeably deathly silent and horrifically loud with the disturbing activities of Haladavar's select few trusted lackeys. This floor has managed to remain an oasis of abandoned peace, which suits the needs of this mage quite well, at least for a while. A particularly blood-curdling shriek from the floor above rouses Esther brutally from her sleep and she shudders, burrowing further down into her dusty white robes, hugging the marble cage to her chest. "I don't know how we let it go so far, Nathan." She whispers to the cage in her lap, watching as the light within distorts and bends fitfully. The cage seems to have little to say in response, but Esther bunts her forehead against the cool stone nonetheless. "I know but… still. I… wish I'd taken the blinkers off sooner. I wish I'd listened to you." The cage's impassive dialogue continues in her mind and she sighs desperately. "I hope so. I don't want this to be how my story goes. Or yours. You deserve better than this cage." A weak smile turns up the corner of her lightly painted lips and she bonks her head against the cage in response. "Ass. Of course I had to end up with you of all people, didn't I?" She'd have continued on longer were it not for the resounding crash that echoed down the hallway. Esther immediately whips her head up and scrambles to her feet. "That's got to be him. No one else would be in this quarter at this time of night." The cage is as silent as ever, but Esther evidently got the agreement she needed. She sets off down the long curving corridor, the stone cage weighing heavily in her arms, while a fur-wrapped package bounces equally heavily against her hip.

Kasyr would kick himself, if the closet afforded him the room. Really, the only reason he isn't more frustrated at his abject failure to stealth, is the simple fact that this floor seems relatively ...bereft. There's simply not that many people -present- for the empathic swordsman to worry about- which makes the next part all the easier. With a grunt of exertion, Kasyr presses back against the barrier of boxes pressing against him- before abruptling lunging forward into the door. In a normal circumstance, there's odds that it might provide some degree of resistance, but flush as he is with Daedria's strength- it more or less bursts asunder, sending a spray of splinters in every direction. And a veritable tidal wave of papers slipping out behind him. "Ah ...Ha?" Okay, there's -actually- no one in the hallway yet. There's someone -coming-, that much is clear, but, noone here. And what's worse, he's pretty sure semi heretical documents are currently just -everywhere-. "I'll, just." Is it really the time to be haphazardly grabbing a handful of papers and stuffing them back into the box they came from? ...Probably. At the very least, it means he's adjacent enough to the box to then lift it up in front of himself- given that he's not quite...proximal to his clothes. ...And hey, at least the sight of a Kensai covering himself with a box might be distracting enough that whoever rounds the corner won't notice the swordsman summoning up one of his spiritual blades. The lack of plan is all coming together now.

When the splintering noise of the cupboard shattering echoes down the corridor, Esther picks up her pace, an icy dart cutting through her at the thought that someone else would discover the stowaway before she did. That was a recipe for utter disaster, especially this close to the crucial moment that only she and a few others knew was coming. "C'mon c'mon c'mon!" She urges herself onwards, almost tripping over the hem of her robes as she rounds the last stretch of corridor. When she manages to right herself, she is greeted with a glimpse that despite everything she had been expecting, was entirely unexpected. In her defence, not many people expect to find a butt-naked Kasyr stumbling out of a broom closet with a box of academic papers over his unmentionables. We have more concern for those that would. In her brief moment of dumbfoundedness at the unexpected Kensai-bod, Esther entirely neglects that she has yet to explain herself, instead she just keeps running forward blindly, wholly consumed with the thought that Kasyr needs to HIDE before someone else sees him. Thankfully, there is more than one soul driving Ms Esther Stroud and this second one has less things to worry about and more attention to spare. <"Blades! Get down, Esther!"> The poor woman isn't given much of a choice, as her feet intentionally tangle beneath her and she plummets towards the floor. Only the hard round volume of the soul-cage keeps her from smashing her face against the floor, instead winding her when she lands on it. With a whoosh of stolen breath, Esther collapses to the floor, as spots dance before her vision. She blearily looks up to where Kasyr is and now notices the blade Nathanial had spotted. A thrill of fear shoots through her and she raises her hands over her face. "Odhranos sent us! Odhranos sent us! Please don't!!!"

Kasyr may as well be a conductor directing a melody, given just how deftly those swords are maneuvered about Esther's position, even as they're in the process of coalescing into solidity. Really, she's all but on the verge of being riddle with blades in a manner befitting a pin cushion- were it not for her awkward tumble, and ensuing desperate plea. It's not the plea itself that gives the swordsman pause, however- but rather the desperate, and sense of sincerity that drips off the woman. "Qu'est-que Fu-?" The swordsman pauses for a moment, digesting that tentative tidbit of information- as well as the plausible outcomes. Was there any way that she was being tracked, or tailed? There was the awkward looking item which she was currently using as a 'Cushion'- which represented a less known factor. But even then, the swordsman doesn't get any palpable sense of animosity, or danger yet. Which meant, The Terramancer had pieced it together. He'd -actually- figured it out. "Well, you're a better welcoming party then what I expected, enfin. Did he leave you with any specific messages?" The shift to a more casual tone also hearkens a redirection of the spellblades floating arsenal- the multitude of Katana's gliding over towards the Kensais radius- save for a parse few which are instead laid out on the ground in an almost haphazard manner- as though dropped or knocked aside. ...Never can be too careful.

Esther rolls off the cage uncomfortably, thumping onto her side. Now that it was more clearly visible, Kasyr would recognise runes etched all along the curving bands of the marble, so similar in style and shape to the golden one Odhranos has borne for the last few years. Undoubtedly the Kensai would put two and two together, but before he could come to any deadly conclusions, Esther grabs the fur-bound parcel from her side and thrusts it forward. "From him! He said you'd be missing it!" Esther's tone still has a frantic edge to it, and part of her hopes that whatever it was Odhranos gave her, it is enough to buy her life. He wouldn't have set her up, would he? She looks up and watches as the Kensai's blades take up position behind him, still wickedly sharp and wickedly within range. She gulps. He wouldn't have, would he? She's only a minor player in this whole ordeal, surely there'd be nothing to gain… right? Her thoughts keep whirling in this manner as she holds the parcel outstretched, squeezing her eyes shut as she prays that the faith she had put in Odhranos was better placed than the faith she had put in Haladavar. She hadn't had much luck with authority figures as of late. "... Please." She whispers as her arms tremble where she holds the package out to Kasyr. "Please, I need to make things right to him."

Kasyr tries his best to shut out the frantic whirl of emotion emanating from the girl, and the offputting resonance coming from the soul cage she bears. If she is somehow some sort of enemy agent, she'd have to have fully convinced herself to pull off so thorough a deception. And frankly, the swordsman would rather get this over, then bask in her desperate and terrified misery trying to peace that together. "Thanks. And uh, keep your eyes closed." Without another wasted moment, the swordsman scoops up the hefty package and almost immediately recognizes it from the heft alone. Such is his haste to get it open, the swordsman finds himself generating a short but intense arc of electrical energy meant to incinerate the twine holding it together and provide his clo- "Oh. The. Gods." Clothe- more or less. No Boots. No rings. No Mithril chain mesh gloves. ...Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to take them all with him, this time. "I hope they didn't -bury- them." If Esther stops closing her eyes, she'll be spared a sight for now- the Kensai having rapidly donned the coat his tail curled around the waist to keep it intact. "....So, this is definitely a start. But I'm going to need more clothes. Can you lead me to the bunks?" ...Yup. We're going to kick things off by committing mass-murder for small-clothes. "I mean, either to someone you -want- bumped off whose an evil cultist, or someone whose just stuck here. Either or, I just need you to lead the way to buy a few moments. We can pull the whole 'captured a prisoner routine." The swords that had been about his presence promptly press their flats against his back- like a pack of naughty children hiding behind their parental figure. "And really, a few moments are all we need."

Esther cringes when the package is taken, fully expecting her bounty to be deemed too little and answered with a flurry of enchanted swords. Thankfully, she already has her eyes closed when Kasyr asks her to avert her eyes, so she is more than happy to stay that way. Once she opens her eyes again, Kasyr is a little less naked than before. He's exchanged his box at least, for something a little more functional. Esther lets out a sigh of relief. It would seem she won't be dying just yet. "Bunks? Oh, ah, we don't really have a bunks situation going on. Haladavar's more of a… "fall asleep at your desk" kind of boss. All part of striving for the better future… and all that. Gotta put in your hours." The bags under Esther's eyes attest to that. "But if you need clothes, um…" She wracks her brains for where a spare change of clothes might be found that won't immediately bring them into somewhere populated. Thankfully, she's not alone in her thoughts. "There's a stash of spare clothes in the north ante-library of this floor, behind the section on Hallucinogenic Plants… wait, why do you know that, Nathan?" Esther squints dubiously at the marble cage on the ground beside her. It does not want to explain itself. "Well, anyway, those should do for now. If you want to get those, we can then rendezvous with the others. Odhranos told me to gather all the dissidents and wait for you, so that's what I did." A slight edge of happy pride creeps into the woman's voice. "Did he say anything to you on what we do next?"

Within the pocket of Kasyr’s coat, he would find a small note, scribbled hastily in Inks’ handwriting, but signed as from Odhranos.

"Kas,

Figured you'd be missing this. Suit up and lay low, we're on our way.

Look to the North and listen. You'll hear us coming. Once you do, lead the others and work your way down to us. Don't kill anyone you don't have to. Things are a lot more complicated than we thought.

-Odh"

Kasyr let's out a small sigh at the contents of the note. It makes sense, and certainly- he wasn't going to make a horribly -loud- mess of things, until he couldn't help it. But, quite frankly, the whole 'Don't kill Cultists' thing was -really- harshing the mellow he'd brought courtesy of his rebirth. "...Really." A pause, and he blinks over to Esther, "Uh. Er. Yes, there's orders here- though we'll get clothes -before- we introduce moi to the dissidents. Beyond that, I suppose, it's just laying low, getting rid of anyone conspicuously dangerous along the way. ...Et maybe springing anyone who might be, well- a dissident but not dead, if they're incarcerated. The more bodies ready for whenever...." The kensai offhandedly waves, the letter fluttering in his clutched fist. "Well. One thing at a time, J'suppose. Lead the way, Cherie. I'll do my best to make sure you keep your head on your shoulders." He just makes absolutely 0 promises about anyone else they meet. "Oh, also- if you can find a room facing to the north that -isn't- occupied by cultists a ce...rather, at this moment. That also helps."