RP:Soul of The Swordsaint

Part of the Lies Within Us Arc

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Summary: After a series of near-misses and inconvenient timings, Kasyr and Odhranos finally sit down for a long-overdue chat. Kasyr opens up on his past as Lithrydel's last tiefling, while Odhranos explains the research he has been doing regarding the Guild's clandestine forays into soul-magic. Finding a common thread in their tales, the Black Sword Saint and the Gray Stone Mage unearth aspects of both their experiences that look to pave the way to uncovering the secrets of the Guild's past.

Mage Tower

Kasyr 's been missing work - in the, he really wishes he was around a little bit more often to teach classes, kind of way. Though, admittedly, being half dead for a while, the ensuing recuperation, and his ensuing sojourn into the desert based on apocalyptic omens have caused him to have his fair share of absenteeism. It's also led to his office starting to look as though it could dabble as a sandtrap, but the less spoken on the cleanliness of that room the better. In any case, he has a goal in mind for his visit today, given that his recent tete a tete wiith Quintessa's reminded him that there were folks looking for him. Just, maybe their names are scribbled on the faculty registry, because the names are eluding the Kensai right now.

Odhranos meanwhile has been doing little but working. With two lectures and a small-group seminar already completed, and it barely even the afternoon, Odhranos is fit to drop at this stage. But, such is the life of an academic, let it never be said that teaching is a cushy job. If you're not up in front of a class, or up to your eyes with one-to-one meetings with concerned and stressed apprentices, you're desperately trying to find time to fit research work in amongst all the chaos. As such, Odhranos is feeling quite a bit more haggard than usual, and decides that right now, what he needs more than anything is a steaming pot of tea and a break. Opening the door of his study slowly, the Provost peeps out warily, fully expecting to be ambushed by a student at the first sign of availability. Luckily for the weary terramancer, the corridor beyond is blissfully empty, so he sets off in search of some water and milk, his bulbous iron teapot cradled to his chest comfortingly as he shuffles tiredly along the creaky wooden flooring.

Kasyr might have gotten a little stuck on seeing Daath's name on the registry, if only because of certain . . . extenuating factors. But then, his absence from certain matters of importance didn't necessarily seem to include the academic world, it seemed. Though if recent events were any indication, even the impending threat of annihilation did little to stave off drow pettiness- so perhaps the man had the right idea, after all. "..Ugh, Well. Oh, here we go. Kerrigan. That rings a bell. Odd-Ran oss...ceros? Rah nose. O-ray-no? Do, Re, Mi." Honestly, the Kensai can keep going, but he's pretty sure he briefly heard footsteps, and frankly, none of this is actually all that helpful in remembering how to say the name. What -is- helping, is that there's an office number, which means the swordsman can now proceed to meandering his trenchcoated self over towards Odhranos' office.

Odhranos, often misnamed Odd-ranos, known on occasion as Oh-hell-nos and unarguably in possession of an Odd-name-os has by now gathered his necessary tea-making ingredients and is mosying back to his office with a bit more of a spring in his step. A change of scenery can do wonders for your temperament. His tea-pot sloshes merrily and he even managed to procure a small jar of honey from the Guild's larder, so he is in high spirits as he strides along the gently curving corridor, which follows the arc of the cylindrical tower's outer wall. As he nears his office, he catches a glimpse of someone's back around the curve of the corridor up ahead and for a moment his heart sinks. Please, oh for the love of Xalious, please don't be looking for me, the terramancer thinks involuntarily, his weariness getting the better of his good-nature as he approaches the visitor, his eyes fixed on the small metal plaque attached to the door of his study, yearning for it to be closer so he can escape into the safety of his office.

Kasyr might be having similar feelings to the mage in that moment, if only because the Kensai would rather not fall prey to yet another scheme to discern whether or not his ears were real. Frankly, he'd be half tempted to cook the little bastard that spread that kernel of 'wisdom' . So, instead of shuffling, the Kensai's pace changes from a leisurely meander into an abrupt and stilted speedwalk.Not that arriving faster proves to be any more fruitful, really- given that when he does knock on the door, there's no one inside to answer, leaving him to lean against the doorframe. "I wonder if there's a timetable somewhere? ...There probably is."

Odhranos keeps a few paces behind Kasyr, as the corridor isn't particularly wide enough that he could walk past without it being an awkward squeeze, and trying to juggle the full teapot, milk jug and honey jar in the midst of such a maneuver would be a recipe for disaster. As such, he matches the Kensai's pace, appreciating the increase in speed as he gets all the closer to his sanctuary, only to come to an abrupt stop a few strides from the door to his office. About to excuse himself and try getting around the man, Odhranos watches with despair as his office door is knocked on, before his very eyes. For a brief moment, Odhranos considers just scooching past and hightailing it off to some obscure corner of the tower, surely there would be a classroom free at this time of day, somewhere that he could sup tea in peace. But! Tragedy! All of his tea was stored in a case in his office, and sweetened milk and water really just doesn't cut it unfortunately. Resolving himself, and also berating himself a bit for even considering such an impolite thought, Odhranos clears his throat before addressing the visitor. "I'm sorry to bother you, are you perhaps looking for me?" Odhranos smiles pleasantly, nodding his head towards the door as if to infer that it was his office, as of yet not having recognised that this visitor is in fact someone he has met previously.

Kasyr is in the process of masterfully cycling through what could only be dubbed idle animations, as he alternates between nonchalantly drumming his fingers, tapping his foot, and then finally sighing passive-aggressively at the door due to it's refusal to budge. At least, until he realizes that the individual behind him isn't moseying onwards. Tentatively posed as it is, it takes the swordsman a moment to put two and two together, turning his attention towards Odhranos, if only to owlishly stare at him, as well as the teapot in hand. "Yessss? Though, from what Quintessa said, you'd been looking for moi, first. So, i think we're even." That kernel of wisdom courtesy of Kasyr's general insomnia, even if the changeling had effectively forced him to sleep recently-ish. "Er. Rather. Wait, no, I think you know what I mean. Anyways, er, do you need help with-?" While the Kensai bumbles over proper first impressions, he shuffles to the side so the mage can gain access to his office.

Odhranos raises an eyebrow curiously before the cogs start turning in his addled mind and everything falls into place. "Ahh! Kasyr! Of course, my apologies, I'm a little bit slow right now, I didn't recognize you at first. " The Provost smiles warmly as Kasyr stumbles over his words and he breaks into a good natured chuckle as he maneuvers past to stand before the door. "Seems we're both in a similar state. Come in and have a seat, I'm just about to brew up a pot of tea, will you have a cup?" The mage smiles over his shoulder, before awkwardly pointing a pinky finger at the lock, the rest of his hands occupied with his payload. Crooking the pinky slightly elicits a click from the lock, and Odhranos pushes the door open with his hip, heading into the small office beyond. "How are you, by the way? Last I had heard from Quintessa, you were involved in an incident in Trist'oth. I'm glad to see you seemed to make it out in one piece, Quintessa was quite distressed when she landed in on myself and Provost Grace." Odhranos deposits his teapot, jug and jar onto his desk, gathering up the scrolls and sheets strewn across the tabletop and placing them to the side. He scoots around the large desk and reaches up to lift his tea-case down from its perch. "Any particular preferences?" He inquires, gesturing towards the seat in front of the desk for Kasyr to sit.

Kasyr reflexively grins back at Odhranos, though it's far more subdued in practice, and grows even moreso at the mention of states, "I'd hope not. Er, but thank you for your hospitality, I'd . . . love to?" As the swordsman follows after the Provost, he may have just furtively glanced over the room in search of anything alcoholic looking,but it woould seem that there's no avenue for his preferred sort of liquid lunch, "As for how I've been, J'suppose- 'better' would likely suffice. It's been a trying past couple of. . . . "Weeks? Months? Years, even? "...incidents. Oui. How have you been since the Promotions et all?" That mentioned, the Kensai moves to take the first seat he can, only pausing when it proceeds to make some rather upsetting creaking noises- and forcing him to shuck his trenchcoat onto the ground besides it. "It's weighted." He's not gaining weight. Honest. He'd have to take care of himself better for that to happen. "Et, not so much- I'm not really all that savvy about those- though if you wanted to know some decent vintages of wine in a handful of cities, I could probably walk ... you ... through...those." Not a vampire, Kas.

Odhranos opens the case of tea and taps his chin in thought as he peruses the contents. Odhranos prides himself in having a knack for figuring out a visitor's "tea", but Kasyr is proving more tricky to choose for. The mage shrugs as he plucks two round stones off his shelf and clenches his fist around them. "I haven't been bad, all things considered. I've thankfully been spared some of the more affecting sort of experiences in the last while, I've just been completely swamped with working here in the Guild. It seems that once the Guild Council made me a Provost, they decided it was time for me to take on some actual responsibility. They have had me running lectures for the apprentices on top of the research I'm supposed to be doing, and they keep discovering new classes for me to teach. It's exhausting." Odhranos laughs wearily as he opens his palm over the teapot. The two stones fall into the water with a gentle plop, before they begin glowing a warm rosy red colour as they heat up, slowly bringing the water to a boil. "Not to mention they are pushing me to take on a personal apprentice also. I barely have the time to even read through the list of prospective apprentices, nevermind take one under my tutelage." Odhranos slumps into his chair, letting his sleeves drape limply over the arms of the chair. He huffs momentarily with exhaustion, before he properly registers Kasyr's comment about wine. "Y'know, much as I should really be sharpening myself up for work, I am not going to get anything else done this evening. Time for something a little bit heartier." The mage gets up from his desk and roots around in one of the wooden cases stashed away on the higher shelves. "Aha, there we go." He returns back down with a brown glass bottle, wrapped in a sheath of rough flax cord and stoppered with a cork. Placing it on the table, he plucks a sachet of tea from the case and quickly brews two mugs of fragrant tea. Once finished, he uncorks the bottle and pours a generous helping of a creamy brown liqueur into each mug. "Bealaine, it's an Oileánian export. Cream liqueur, goes very well in tea if you need a pick-me-up. I think we could both do with a bit of alcohol." Odhranos chuckles and passes one of the mugs across to Kasyr. "So, what about yourself? How has Guild ranking been treating you?"

Kasyr actually looks a bit curious when Odhranos mentions new classes, that sort of day-to-day consideration a welcome distraction, "Have we been losing teachers, ou have they been dreaming up new courses to take people through? I suppose I'll count myself grateful that the amount of spellblades we get compared to the more traditional disciplines at play are less...daunting." Kasyr takes a few moments to shuffle the stool he's taken a little closer to the desk, before his curiosity gets the better of him, "Is there anything you're looking for in an apprentice? Or are you more waiting for one to impress you?" Kasyr, for his part, is definitely equal parts impressed and appreciative at what the earth mage decides to introduce to the mix, enough so that he just spends a few moments inhaling the steam from the cup when it's passed over. "Discovering that I missed out due to my decision to neglect tea, enfin. But, er, beyond the theatrics of day to day life, et all that entails- I'd say it's been less daunting then I expected. Fussing over students es not exactly new to me, et they are thankfully less violent, " mostly, "then those I've taken on in past. Though, Formalizing all of it into the semblance of a repeatable curriculum es the part I struggle with. That, et these papers I'm working on. I read something on what's -expected- of the research, et the notations alone are . . . well. I'm not a scholar, by nature- so it's aggravating, to say the least."

Odhranos laughs as he packs the tea case and bottle of Bealaine away. "More that they keep inventing new courses. From what I've heard from some of the more established lecturers, it's common practice in the Guild, it is sort of their way of testing new Provosts. They'll keep piling on the workload and testing the limits of my capabilities, without ever really pushing me to the breaking point, so they can judge how much I can actually handle. They already have a good sense of my arcane ability and research capabilities from my time as an Arcane Steward, apparently this is how they get a measure on my teaching ability. It's a bit rough, but I can't complain too much. Most of the classes I've been assigned to teach are small seminar groups, and it's all topics that are centred around my research, so it is an area I am both interested in, and also uniquely informed on. I'm teaching apprentices information almost as soon as I uncover it myself." Odhranos smiles as he settles back into his chair, cradling his mug in both hands as he sips, enjoying the dual warmth of the tea and the liquor. "As for an apprentice… I'm really not quite sure what I'm looking for, to be honest. Part of my hesitation in picking is that I barely feel like I'm qualified to be teaching, I was still getting used to being a Steward when I got promoted. I suppose I'm wary of choosing an apprentice to guide when I am not entirely confident in my own ability. I would hate to lead an apprentice astray out of my own lack of ability… it's a tricky one." The terramancer hums thoughtfully as Kasyr continues. "Ahh, I was unaware you had trained students before. Though, now that I think about it, it makes sense, I can imagine the fame and renown would naturally attract prospective trainees. But yes, I know where you're coming from. I'm having a bit of trouble adjusting to that myself. I can talk ad nauseum about most subjects, but putting together a coherent set of lectures and ensuring that the students actually learn from it is… not easy." The mage's eyebrows raise when Kasyr mentions having trouble with his research. "If I can be of any help to you with regards your research, I'd be happy to lend a hand. I'm first and foremost a scholar, so I might be of use. Not to mention that research is my passion, and I'm always looking for more opportunities to involve myself." The terramancer laughs, he's basically just painted a big old "nerd" sign in himself.

Kasyr is filing away some of this information in his head in the same place he stores other items pertinent to traps and pitfalls. Because whilst there is a degree of appeal in having further stability in his rank at the guild, this sounds like an excess of work, especially when in tandem with his existing projects. "Well, forewarned es forearmed then, at least. I'll bear that in mind if I'm ever feeling the urge to be a bit more diligent." The teacups drawn up at this point, the first tentative sips taken before he resumes taking in it's scent, " I suppose my thoughts on apprentices, were to pick someone you would trust to carry on your work, or better it if you sudden;y died. Though, that might be more of a consideration for swordsman than scholars, peut-etre." It's a weird thought to consider, really, but there's certain;y a truth to it, one which the subject of his recent writings has even touched on, "As for my projects, well- trying to actually jot down my particular style of swordsmanship, et figuring a way to break it down so it's repeatable by someone else es. Well, it's a project, though not exactly viable, currently. I've also been dabbling in a pair of projects that would likely outrage at least a few religious groups, for different reasons. Er, not for the sake of provocation. Just, I don't think the subject matter es going to be appreciated." The kensai pauses there, before he can't help but add, "That said, I would be remiss to say no to help- just as soon as I figure out how best to get these ideas on to paper, et to better flesh them out. There's a few things I'd like to try out when life es less, "Catacylsmic? "Busy. Though, I heard you were also running a research project of your own?"

Odhranos finds Kasyr's suggestion for choosing an apprentice a little jarring. "Hmm, it's a good point, albiet a bit depressing. One of the downsides of being a human scholar is being constantly faced with your impending mortality, while other races will live on to continue their research for centuries to come. So I can definitely see the sense in choosing an apprentice on that grounds." The mage rubs his chin ponderously, before shrugging and taking a sip of his tea. "I'll have to give it some thought, but it's definitely a criteria worth considering. It would be nice to know my work would continue on after me." Tapping a rhythm against the side of his mug as he listens, Odhranos breaks into a smile when Kasyr explains his projects. "I'd be fascinated to have an insight on your transcription process. I was never a duelist of any caliber, but I was trained with the rapier as a child, so I have a rough understanding of swordsmanship, it would be quite an experience to see how such a thing might be recorded in written medium. The challenge of describing form and technique through word and image would be quite something to figure out." The terramancer raises a quizzical eyebrow at Kasyr's mention of his other two projects, namely due to their supposed heretical nature, but he didn't want to pry further unless the swordsman was willing to share. When Kasyr mentions Odhranos' own project, the mage lights up with enthusiasm. "Ahh, yes, indeed! That was why I wanted to talk to you in the first place. Did Quintessa explain the gist of the project to you at all?"

Kasyr isn’t really known for doling out sage kernels of wisdom these days but there’s a particular nugget of the stuff he can’t help but sneak into the exchange after Odhranos gives into a brief bit of mortality induced navel gazing. “Mortal or not, pushing the boundaries of learning tends to be dangerous to ones health. Et even without that scholarly bent, the Guilds involvement in things like the razurath extermination, and it’s finale, would pose a permanent risk of ending most creatures.” The kensai doesn’t have much else to say, however, until the terramancer starts to gush about transcription processes, coaxing a dismayed look from Kasyr as he contemplates the absolute haphazard array of notes that are currently filling his desk and office drawers (of which a few are notably whiskey or wine stained). “It helps that there’s texts that can be referred to, and which provide a solid foundation for transcribing them. Though, adjusting it for a more, uh, practical user es going to be a tricky process in itself.” Because the swordsman is also aware that whilst his style certainly -functions- for himself, it would either be untenable for most, or something fundamental within it would simply fail to work for a casual practioner. “It’s a work in progress. That’s really the crux of everything I’m doing. But er, as for your endeavour-” It’s on the tip of his tongue, he swears- but he’s really thirsty right now, and definitely not minorly addled from a recent liquid diet or a lack of sleep. Damn good tea, though. “ Indulge me, in your own words, enfin.” The perfect tact, and it helps that a handful of years playing politician in Vailkrin allows Kasyr to just deliver that line with just the right of confidence and poise.

Odhranos snorts with dry mirth. “You needn’t tell me that twice, the Nameless Desert drummed the risks of knowledge into me better than any lecture could. As for the Razurath incident…” Odhranos simply shrugged with an expression that didn’t exactly scream favour for the Guild’s involvement; but that was an entire other can of worms that could do without being opened. The terramancer sips from his tea in the lull, then considers the daunting task Kasyr was tasked with. “Have you considered other means of recording your information besides pen on paper?” Odhranos raises an eyebrow to the kensai before continuing; “Before he disappeared first, Lanlan was looking into the runic system of a number of relics, crystals, that we discovered around Lithrydel; one of the relics had the ability to create illusions of a very high quality. If I can get my hands on the work he did, it could be repurposed as a recording medium of sorts. That might alleviate your transcription woes a bit.” Odhranos shrugs his shoulders, leaving the option hanging in the air, before he breaks into a broad smile, laughing warmly. “You should know better than to tell an academic to put something into their own words, you’ll find your lifespan and attention span severely tested.” The terramancer chuckles as he reaches into one of the drawers in his solidly-built desk, drawing out a sheaf of neatly bound pages; he’d learnt his lesson after taking a tumble down the stairs in front of Lanlan and Tezzavalia, no more loose piles of sheets. He plonks the pile soundly on the table and roots through for one in particular. “Aha, there we go.” He passes the slim sheaf across to Kasyr. Printed on the top sheet in large cursive is “Apprentice Quintessa: Insights on Magical Heritage and Weave Theory” Odhranos plucks another random sheaf from the pile and flips through it. “Essentially, I am trying to compile a catalogue of magic techniques. A large part of magic ability is our understanding of how magic works, yet there are many interpretations and not a lot of proof to justify any one interpretation over another. I’m hoping to interview as many practitioners of magic as I can, then draw common threads between these various viewpoints, to try to give a more rounded view of how magic works.” Odhranos places his sheaf back and pats the pile with a slight grin. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, but I shall forge onwards nonetheless. It would be rude to my interviewees to abandon their fantastic insights after all this work.” Odhranos picks up his mug and leans his elbows on the desk, watching Kasyr with an inquisitive gaze. “The first question I pose every interviewee is if they can summarise how, in their opinion, magic “works”, then conversation usually progresses from there naturally. “This would be a very informal interview, so don’t be afraid to speak your mind as coherently or incoherently as you wish to.”

Kasyr looks ever so conflicted when Odhranos provides a suitably intriguing solution to his current dilemma . . . that just happens to involve Lanlan. In all honestly, he effectively retreats into the glass of tea following that mention, up until it's mentioned that a body of work may exist which -wouldn't- require the illusionists direct intervention. That, at least, seems to light up his expression, "It would certainly provide a shortcut to my current workload. Do you have an idea where he might have stored that information, peut-etre?" Having reasonable cause to either rob, or burgle from, Lanlan is something the Kensai is finding far too appealing as an idea. That said, there's still work to do- so he draws his attention towards the papers he's been shown, and begins to glance over it's contents, soaking in both what's written, as well as what Odhranos details. And there's something about the line of questioning which inherantly makes sense to the swordsman, if only because it plays a part in his issues in detailing his style of swordsmanship, if only because, "Magic isn't quite ...consistent. Not as a whole. Certainly, there es the branches of applied magecraft, like what this tower teaches, and there's a large degree of being able to, to," As he moves to roll his wrist in a motion to accompany the pending thought, he all but near spills the cup of tea, only managing to correct the motion at the last second before he sets the glass down on his lap. "Replicate it? Je pense. But! That doesn't stop unique, er, variants occurring. Whether it's two different mages using the same spell, ou even the same person, but in different contexts, the magic can express itself differently." Kasyr pauses for a moment, the thoughts muddied and jumbled, before he starts again a bit more carefully, "Et I'm not simply talking about the amount of innate magic reserves that someone might have, or an affinity with it. There es often things that seem almost..representative of the wielders that can leak into their spellcraft at times, mirroring them. Though. I'll admit, I've seen this more often in things like innate magic. Managed it, even." A point the swordsman sees fit to clarify by opening his left palm in front of himself, a cobweb of electrical sparks dancing between his fingers. Whilst it starts out as an erratic dance, the energy rapidly coalesceses onto his index, by which point it simply proceeds to bounce between the tips of his finger. "That's been, peut-etre, my biggest issue in transcription. My particular style of magical swordsmanship works, certainment- for me. But it would perhaps be considered unfeasible for most to pursue that path, not only because of the taxing nature on the wielder, but the sources it draws from, et the requirements from the user." Now seems as good a time as any to withdraw into that drink of tea now, if only because it means the Kensai can get away with ending things off with a tentative, "If that makes sense?"

Odhranos watches Kasyr’s response with a gentle smile that doesn’t belay anything beyond tentative politeness, but inwardly he is curious to watch the kensai’s reaction to mention of Lanlan. Last he had heard, Kasyr had met misfortune at the hands of the terramancer’s colleague in Trist’oth, to the point that Quintessa was calling for the drow’s expulsion from the guild. Odhranos is curious about Kasyr’s take on these events, but isn’t bold enough or familiar enough to broach the subject outright. “We collaborated in the retrieval of the artefacts that led to Lanlan’s research, and I spent some time analysing them myself. I have enough of a grasp of the system that we mightn’t need his notes, but on the other hand, findings unearthed as part of research done with Guild funding is considered Guild property, so you have just as much right to his findings as anyone. I’ll put in a request to the Council and see if they have a transcript of his work.” Odhranos nods firmly at his own suggestion, then sets his mug down, picking up a quill and scribbling down Kasyr’s name on a blank page as the kensai launches into full flow. Odhranos nods silently in agreement as Kasyr continues, he has come to realise from his interviews that magic is as much a reflection of one’s own interpretation and flair as it is a coherent system, much like how music varies from one player to another, or art between artists The mage pauses and prods his chin with the end of the quill in thought as Kasyr highlight his own difficulty in the replication of magic styles. When Kasyr trails off, Odhranos jots down a few more quick notes before posing a question. “I have a sense of what you mean, but, if you wouldn’t mind, could you explain to me the particular style of magic you employ? In as much detail as you feel happy to divulge.” Odhranos cants his head to the side and smiles wryly, stepping out of his interview personality for a moment. “I’ve had little chance to study the techniques of spellblades, there’s not a lot written in the Guild archives, given the only-recently-overturned barring, so this is as much my own indulgence as it is academic, if you’ll pardon me.” Odhranos laughs jovialy, topping up his mug, with a spot more liquor, offering some to Kasyr before picking his quill up once more.

Kasyr is fairly good at keeping his feelings on that particular drow under wraps, if only because he's rather used to volatile and homicidal work relationships. Though, The fact that the illusionist had mentioned a lead in regards to helping Luffy certainly contributes to making him more palatable on a hypothetical level. Malign pranks and borrowing his stuff to further the swordsman agenda -definitely- helps too, though. "I appreciate your aid and understanding in this, enfin. I feel like that will be an invaluable tool especially as spell blades continue to be represented here." The Kensai pauses there, remembering to accept the refill of tea, though the terramancers line of questioning is enough to coax the Kensai into taking a pre-emptive sip of it, so he can further top it up with a little whiskey from a flask in his coat, "Er. Well. As for the style, well, that es a long et complicated answer. I suppose I ought to ask first what rumours you may have heard about my nature et background first, as well as the sort of magic I wield, since that may help clarify things a little. Et save moi a bit of time on exposition." The swordsman pauses there, and takes a long sip of the tea, "I will start off to say, I did not...start out with any sort of affinity ou the like. If anything, I didn't really have any sort of talent or knowledge on the subject, to begin with." And as far as formal training goes, he was still rather lacking on that front.

Odhranos waves his hand. “If it’s for the sake of forwarding learning, I am always happy to help. This institution needs more cooperation between its various disciplines and less hoarding of information if it is to move forward. But, I digress.” Odhranos sips his own tea, grimacing as the sharp tang of alcohol hits him, a little less liquor next time maybe. He considers Kasyr’s question and nurses his mug as he mulls over his answer. “I’m not a native of Lithrydel, so I’m not as familiar with some of the stories as others might be, but I’ve picked up on bits and pieces” The terramancer reclines in his chair, letting out a huff as he tries to dredge up what he knows about the Black Sword Saint. “I’m aware of your title, Kuro no Kensai, as well as the fact that it is a title known in most regions of Lithrydel, which alone gives me a measure of your ability, if not the particulars. I understand you spent at least one term of rule in Vailkrin, if not more. Beyond that, not much in the ways of useful information.” Odhranos shrugs apologetically, before a humorous smile tweaks his lips. “I hear there’s a lot of contention as to the authenticity of your ears, but I don’t pay much heed to such debates.” Odhranos smirks teasingly, before sipping his tea nonchalantly and picking up his quill again. “I wasn’t close enough to study your abilities in either the Trist’oth or Venturil incidents, so I’m afraid you’ll likely have to start from basics, if that’s not too much trouble.”

Kasyr is trying his best to gauge Odhranos' expression here, to see if there's anything he's holding back either out of uncertainty, or discomfort- but the impression that the swordsman is left with, is that of an academic earnestness, Really, Kasyr doesn't even really feel the need to correct much of what he says, only adding a somewhat more curt then intended, 'More' when Vailkrins mentioned. Well, at least until his ears are mentioned, which cues a roll of his eyes, and an obligatory ear wiggle as though that might help solidify the issue of their veracity. "...Well, It's something, but to get any real understanding- I suppose I'll have to go the the start. Et, like I said, I didn't have much of an affinity to begin with, beyond a queer habit of...soaking in excess magic from my surroundings. It actually made moi a little vexsome to heal, en fait. That -doesn't- happen anyways, as an aside, et I think it had something to do with me having a large capacity for magic... but having nothing -there-. Like it was desperately trying to fill that gap." The swordman awkwardly coughs, before adding, "Which makes sense then that it went away after I became Lithrydel's last tiefling." He supposes that's what any sort of official record would say. "It wasn't quite an informed choice, ou the like- but it provided moi an intuitive affinity for magic that would probably border more on, er... " His fingers snap as he searches for the word, before finally settling on, "Sorcerous. But, perhaps the truly dangerous aspect was that it also brought with it a hunger. Unlike vampires, demonkind has an appetite for something a bit more..intangible from their victims. Souls, et the li-" Kasyr takes this moment to abruptly raise up a finger as though to halt himself, before quickly waving off at Odhranos, "Not that I'm a threat, or anything. That sort of..influence has long since been...exorcised, ou transmuted, quoi-ce-soit." Nice tangent, Kas. "Er, but, that hunger meant that I unnaturally began to push the boundaries of what I was capable of, et that reserve. What's more, I began to er, shortcut my way to chunks of knowledge belonging to those I consumed- which allowed moi to cobble together an understanding of a variety of sword techniques, along with others which I managed to..either intuit or improvise during combat." It looks like there's more he wants to add, but for the moment, the Kensai seems content to allow the Terramancer to digest this much.

Odhranos chuckles at Kasyr’s reaction, then sets to scribbling down notes as the Kensai delves into his personal history. The mention of the swordsman’s peculiar relationship with magic in his early years piques the terramancer’s interest, and he scribbles down a question mark and circles it, reminding himself to ask about that when Kasyr is finished talking. His eyebrows climb skyward when Kasyr mentions his transformation into the last tiefling, that was certainly something worthy of note, as were the traits that came with it. However, it is Kasyr’s mention of the word “soul” and the words that followed after that truly tear Odhranos’ attention away from the page. First with an open-eyed curiosity, but then an inquisitive and eager smile, the mage turns back to note taking, but with a certain new fervour that indicates he had found something important and exciting in Kasyr’s story. “The mechanisms of your excessive magic capacity are something I haven’t come across outside of readings, but your mention of souls and gaining information from them...hmm… remind me when we are finished, I have something to show you that you may find interesting.” With that cryptic comment, Odhranos finishes his line of notes, then returns to his earlier question mark. “Ahh, yes. So, you mentioned that you possessed a trait for absorbing magic from your surroundings. To try to understand that a little better, could you explain to me in your own words, what you understand magic to be? The substance, the energy, whichever way you want to quantify it. What IS magic, in your eyes?”

Kasyr hasn't really had to commit much thought into this question in past. Suffice to say, it warrants a fair bit of humming on the swordsmans part, only occasionally ponctuated by an additional sip of tea. "Mmm. Well, if I wanted to be contrary, et all. I'd probably pose to you what es faith, in the same way that a paladin, ou cleric wields the power of their respective deity. It es said, after all, that magic es a rite to Xalious- which would make those processes more similar than most would think. Et in all cases, an exhaustion from tapping into those sources es traceable." The tea's done at this point, which leaves the Kensai to set it aside, if only so he can begin sipping straight from the flask he keeps in his coat, "I think, in part, magic is the, er, the mechanisms of control that are exerted- the methods, et all. But just as much, it's also the sources, et I can't be certain those are unified." There's a pause for a moment, if only so Kasyr can extend his left hand forward, a scent of ozone starting to filter into the air. There's something different about the display this time, however- something both more pure, and ultimately voracious about the conduits of electricity that briefly crackle their way over his flesh. Within those passing moments, bits of his skin begin to fleck awayfrom his hands and fading into sparks, leaving raw flesh beneath. The swordsman can't help but wrinkle his nose in displeasure at the aftermath, before he flexes his hand and stuffs it into his pocket, "That, for instance, also factors into why making my style of swordsmanship es a problem. Because, that affinity for lightning, when pushed to it's limit- sees me drawing from a source far more profound, dangerous, et ultimately pure than I think most could muster, or endure. Save for perhaps a Genasi, et I don't know how the others had managed that ...route."

Odhranos strokes his chin thoughtfully. It’s an interesting take on magic; traditional Guild teachings did propose that the act of magic was a rite to the God of Magic, Xalious, and yet, it wasn’t an ideology commonly upheld or practiced by the members of the Guild. Academic magic seems ironically… godless. The academics worship the abstract concept of knowledge more than they do their supposed God. It’s a curious dissociation, and one the mage hasn’t put much thought into, but he notes down a small exclamation mark next to his notes. It is definitely something to take a further look into. He returns his attention to Kasyr, nodding attentively as the swordman goes on. He sits up with a concerned expression on his face when Kasyr demonstrates his lightning again, going so far as to injure himself. The mage is a little shocked, and after recovering, dives into his desk drawer hunting for something, returning with a small stoneware jar and a similarly sized roll of bandages. “Here, burn ointment, it’ll help” He frets, passing the two across the table, open concern writ large on his features. Once he’s calmed down a little and ensured that Kasyr at least accepts the ointment, he picks up his quill once more. “You’ve mentioned the concept of a number of different “sources” of magic, can you explain those to me a little more? How does the magic of these sources differ, is it in sheer volume or intensity, or are there differences in… well “flavour” I suppose? How do these sources factor into the greater concept of magic, are they aspects of a whole, or completely separate?”

Kasyr blinks a bit owlishly when Odhranos panics, if only because years of using that particular facet of his abilities has by this point become normalized. It's weirdly jarring to see someone react so . . . normally? In any case, the offer of bandages and ontment are accepted happily enough, absentmindly poking ointment onto the wounds as he replies, "I wouldn't fuss too much, it always heals well. Et I suppose that was meant to partially clarify that difference. Beforehand, when I was simply flicking bits of sparks across my fingers, that was more drawing from within myself. I suppose I'd have to define it as 'the soul' ou quoi-ce-soit. Et I think of anyone, I'd have some insight in what could be contained within those." There's a pause there, before the kensai continues, "The difference being that what I drew from for that second demonstration was not within me. All of my greatest feats of speed et power have been from tapping into what I can only describe as a raw et primal source of lightning, which I only became aware of as my affinity with lightning grw more profound. Et considering my familiarity with individuals like Kirien, Satoshi et others, I'd be apt to define it as closer to elemental, than anything." At this point, Kasyrs busy trying to make his hand look like a wrapped mummy, seemingly indifferent to the absolutely gaudy way he's arranged the bandages, "I'm -not- sure whether there es a common thread in everything. I think, if there is any truth about Xalious et his involvement in magic, it would be peculiar that there were not any other sources, given the existence of other deities. It would also beg the question as to how individuals who wholly reject the gods, including him, are still capable of wielding magic." That one actually gets a grin from the swordsman, " Vraiment, the Ascendi walked the lands, recently enough enfin, but i've met those in my travels who believe none of them exist"

Odhranos settles a little when Kasyr accepts the offerings and tends to his hand; the mage has to deal with enough injured apprentices, if one of the Guild’s idols walked out of his office with a fried hand after what was supposed to be a relaxed and non-intensive interview, people might start thinking twice before taking the Provost up on his interviews. Not to mention that Odhranos just generally cares about people’s wellbeing, he’s motherly in that way. After picking his quill back up from where he tossed it in his haste, and dabbing ruefully at the splodge of ink it left on the edge of the page, Odhranos tunes in to Kasyr’s explanation of a concept of multiple sources of magic, nodding thoughtfully as the kensai highlights the possibility that patrons of magic beyond Xalious likely exist, and the conundrum surrounding those who reject the gods, yet still bear the gift. “Karasu brought up a similar point when I talked to her. It was her argument that the fact that godless individuals can still access and wield magic, that perhaps this shows that access to magic is not, albeit to some degree, under the direct control of the Gods. What do you think about that suggestion?” Odhranos’ eyebrows raise quizzically, before he breaks into a slight smile. “Remind me at some point to pick your brains about the Ascendi, the Guild Library has entire sections on them, but firsthand information is always preferrable in my opinion. But! I’m getting ahead of myself, do go on.”

Kasyr hums a bit, at the overall thought, before offering up a faint sort of shrug, "It es entirely possible that the gods simply don't care in the face of results. As I recall, the charge against Arclandon that had led to his exile, was a willingness to sit back et spectate as the heavens were torn apart. I wouldn't be surprised if his Patron was just as indifferent towards the process." That's bleak. Thanks Kas. "Et there es certainement a large amount of proof towards the gods being able to grant magic, both in the form of providing access or proficiency in the arts towards individuals. But, I think it's likely that they aren't the sole ...benefactors, en fait- which might be why mortals have been able to continue to wield those sources against the divine, in the odd instances they'd occured." Pursing his lips, the swordsman finds himself adding, "Honetement, I think it would be interesting -if- someone was to use arcane means to challange Xalious ou Arclandon. Insane, sans doute, but interessant." There's a pause for a moment, the Swordsman looking a little bit pensive before he finds himself adding, "Although- He may be less tied to a -source- as it were, than a means of control, ou directing those sorts of energies. Plenty of creatures have innate displays of magic, pixies, dragons, ou even vampires. But despite this inherent advantages, even they created spells to adjust the function of what they could do. Spells that could twist the sort of breath weapon they could use, to enhance their spread et potency, ou even to ...hide them for later. Stored dragons breath to dissuade interlopers from their lairs. I think, if he were more tied to the idea of providing control et structure to those various sources, it would make a great deal of sense with magic being a rite to him. Less the source, et more the method." Nodding slightly to this, the swordsman adds, "After all, there have been a number of notable mages who, despite not having access to the largest reserves of magic, either personal ou otherwise, who've managed to both create et wield potent spells- by virtue of efficiently using what they had."

Odhranos smiles slightly at the thought of going toe to toe with the God of Magic in a magic duel. The very idea is as amusing as it is mad. “Mmm, that spin on it does make some sense. In that case, sources of magic are more on the level of primordial powers, while patrons and deities act as conduits to allow mortals to harness that power safely. I like that take on it.” Odhranos nods and scribbles as Kasyr goes on. “That might also go a ways to explain your earlier… exhibition. When you reached out the second time, you may have tapped directly into the source rather than using a, magical proxy, shall we call it? The undiluted power, though presumeably from the same or a similar source, was uncontrolled enough to cause harm to the wielder.” Odhranos pauses, pursing his lips and re-reading his notes, evidently there is something in there he looking for. “Pardon me for asking, but you haven’t explained how you came to gain access to these multiple sources of power. Generally mages find their sources through study, but the information we have is relatively limited, and only to a few common sources or types. Would your expanded repertoire have something to do with what you mentioned earlier, about souls, and gaining the information from souls through consumption?”

Kasyr pauses for a moment, after Odrahnos inquires a bit more deeply. Whilst there's a part of the swordsman that considers remaining cage-y, the general lack of replicability towards his abilities also means divulging a few more details aren't overly apt to cause him problems. ...Probably. He still looks a little bit conflicted as he starts to talk again, " Some of it es tied to my familiarity with the ascendi, enfin. But if you're specifically meaning the proficiency I garnered with the Arcane in a relatively short amount of time- then oui, the knowledge I'd managed to glean from those individuals consumed proved invaluable. Though, when the demonic taint was rid of me, I found it increasingly difficult to access bits of information not pertinent to...my specialisation, as it were." There's a thoughtful expression on Kasyr's face at that mention, but he brushes it aside as he adds, "That said, that's not the only aspect at fault. Specifically, my affinity with lightning es keenly tied to an innate electromancer I'd consumed. There es something about his power, in tandem with what I've learned, et interacted with- which served as . . ." The kensai bites his lip here, trying to properly vocalize the words, before he settles on, "Which proved pivotal in discovering how to directly access that source. If I didn't have the intuitive idea of how to channel et redirect it, I don't think i could have found a path to to it, or survived wielding it."

Odhranos taps his chin thoughtfully, what Kasyr is saying rings true with what the terramancer has learned so far with regards the magic behind souls and their power. “I have something that you might find interesting, actually.” Odhranos reaches down behind his desk and hefts up an object that may be familiar to the Kensai. Thick bands of gold, with runes carved deep into the metal, forming a lattice cage around a coruscating maelstrom of sand, hissing gently as it spins and whorls. “I came across this relic a few years back, it’s been the subject of a lot of personal research.” Odhranos taps the metal with his index finger, leaving a slight fingerprint on the polished metal. “As far as I can gather, a number of mages within the Guild attempted to create a magical weapon of sorts, an investiture of power to augment the abilities of a mage beyond their natural bounds. They captured an ancient sand dragon, presumably targeted for its innate magic ability, but also its isolated nature; there would be no brood to exact revenge, and no witnesses in the middle of the Nameless Desert. Through whatever ritual they performed, the dragon’s soul was extracted from its body, and placed in this vessel, granting the bearer of the vessel access to the dragon’s knowledge and magic power.” Odhranos raises an eyebrow at Kasyr across the table. “Sounding familiar?”

Kasyr’s folds his hands together, his thumbs tapping against each other as he listened to the terramancer. Once the exposition has been addressed, the swordsman can’t help but pose, “Es part of this research serving as a foundation for another line of inquiry for you, if tu don’t mind me asking?” That said, he does look genuinely curious, enough so that he finds himself asking, “Whilst it certainly sounds like an interesting way to push ones boundaries,I imagine it would leave one vulnerable to possession ou quoi-ce-soit. Especially, since the user wouldn’t have the advantage of ‘consuming’ the spirit. At the very least, I’d think they’d be vulnerable to being influenced by such a potent soul. Which might be why there isn’t more of these floating around the mage tower.” Maybe there is, however. It’s not like everyone on staff is the most ethical sort. “Given you mentioned it’s been a part of your personal research, I imagine you’ve used it. Have you found yourself…aware of deeper wells of power since doing so, peut-etre? Inwards ou otherwise?”

Odhranos nods, his expression serious. “It is, but not in the means of picking up where my predecessors’ research left off. I don’t intend on replicating this artefact. I intend on dismantling it safely, then preventing this research from surfacing again, like the Guild tried to do once before.” Odhranos’ eyes widen when Kasyr mentions the risk of possession from the artefact, but his surprise passes quickly and the mage breaks into warm laughter. “Xalious bless, I could have done with your insight when I was leaving Raiez’ cave. It might have spared me a year’s worth of bother.” Odhranos chuckles slightly. “When I first laid hands on the artefact, the dragon’s soul within it seized upon me like a drowning swimmer would a rescuer, possessing my body and driving me from the Xalious Mountains and into the Nameless Desert. For what purpose, I did not know. In fact, I was only sparingly lucid at the time.” Odhranos reaches for the hem of his sleeve and draws it back a bit, presenting his forearm to the kensai. The skin was mottled, with the scarring of severe sun and windburn. “A number of months later, I came to, exhausted and half-dead, finding myself crouched in the middle of an immense pile of bones. The dragon’s spirit had retreated within my mind, returning control of my body to me. At first I didn’t understand why, but after I gathered myself and inspected my surroundings better, I realised where the spirit had brought me.” Odhranos’ expression turns solemn, even a little sad as he recalls the experience. “The dragon had been attempting to return to its body, but being unaware of the passage of time while it was captured, it did not realise that its body had degraded beyond the point of return long since. The trauma of this realisation broke the spirit and it relinquished control.” Odhranos lays his hand on the metal cage, almost tenderly. “We were both stranded in a sense, and during the return journey, we came to a mutual understanding of sorts. Odhranos lifts his hand as if gesturing to something over his shoulder. As if in response, the sandstorm within the cage hisses louder, releasing a plume of beige sand that whisks around the terramancer, before coalescing into the form of a humanoid, standing at the mage’s shoulder. As the sand gathers, its form sharpens, and in a matter of moments, a doppelganger of the terramancer faces Kasyr across the desk. The sand copy’s facial features match the terramancer’s exactly, but the side-shaven haircut and clothing style set it apart from the mage; this version of Odhranos looks more rough and ready than the demure academic. “Kasyr, allow me to introduce S’erok Lamaar, sand dragon of the Nameless Desert and current shared occupant of my mind.”

Kasyr's expression carries a distinctly cattish air of self-satisfaction as surprise crosses the terramancers features, and it only seems to deepen with the praise that accompanies it. That said, the direction of the conversation isn't conducive for continued preening- the description of Odhranos time as a prisoner within his own body a sobering enough experience, "Were you wholly unaware during the whole process? Like, the whole of your consciousness suppressed?" There's a different sort of unpleasentness there, a ghastly thought at what could have been for the swordsman, though the mention of an understanding does wrench Kasyr's attention away from any unnecessary melancholic navel gazing. "Underst-" The manifestation of sand from the ball is observed rather keenly, his eyes flickering over the contents to see if they decline with the 'release of sand', or remains constant- looking to see if it serves as a font of the stuff. That said, whatever bit of fascination he might have with the artifact itself, it doesn't even compared to the keen look he levels at S'erok, one part wary, one part curious. "C'est un plaisir." ...Had he been at the dance...? "Do you need reintroductions or would it be safe to say that as a shared occupant of his mental state, you're aware of anything he is at this time?" There's a pause, before he adds, "And possibly things he's not, if you're conscious when he's asleep, or split between him et that artifact. . . ." Was that rude to ask? Maybe.

Odhranos rubs his jaw in thought, trying to recall the patchwork of memories he had from his journey into the desert. “At the beginning, I still had moments of consciousness, though I experienced great pain if I tried to exert much control over my actions. I did my best to keep us away from any populated areas; Xalious, Kelay, and Gualon, in the hopes that no one would get hurt trying to stop our progress. I encountered Krice in the Sage Forest, and very nearly lost control before he could escape, I just managed to convey enough to him to deliver a message to the Guild, but after that point, I was completely suppressed, and only came to again when the possession was released in the desert.” At Kasyr’s question, S’erok quirks his eyebrow and smirks wryly. “Right on the money, Blade-devil. Anything Old Grey sees, hears or thinks gets relayed to yours truly." S'erok's mouth moves in sync with the low-gravel toned words, but the deep voice emanates from Odhranos' throat, making for a curious aural disconnect as the two Odhranos' seem to speak in unison. The sand-figure turns its head and grins at the terramancer. "Though I try not to snoop all the time, like when a certain someone comes to visi-" "Alllright! That was very concise, thank you S'erok!" Odhranos' normal voice cuts over S'erok's and the dragon falls quiet, smirking like a sly cat and shooting Kasyr a conspirative wink. "As far as I can ascertain from my research and testing, when I bonded with the artefact, it bonded with my body on a spiritual level, making two linked vessels. Our souls are still largely contained within our respective vessels, but there is a bleeding across of our souls where the vessels join. If we exert our will, it is possible to spread our influence further into the other's vessel, subduing them, however the further we stretch, the greater the resistance becomes. It's a little like two gases competing for space in the same beaker." S'erok makes a face at Odhranos' gas analogy, but the terramancer is too engrossed in his explanation to notice. "When we are in a state of rest, S'erok doesn't sense what I do, but he is still aware of my thoughts. When he is "awake", he extends himself a little into my vessel, and can then experience the same senses I can."

Kasyr finds himself nodding along with Odhranos' description, the terramancers experiences falling relatively in line with the Kensai's hypothesis. Really, if anything actually surprises him, it's S'erok's nickname for him, which manages to elicit a rather broad grin, "Now that es a new one. Encompasses things rather well, however." If the peculiarity of his speech habits perturb the swordsman he makes no sign of it- though, it may be that his time as both a cabalite and Vailkrinite has inured him to the peculiar. Though, he does find himself adding a bemused "Cute-" as Odhranos effectively engages in an argument with himself. "You know, you'd make quite the killing as a ventroloquist. But, er les nous resumes." It's the final aspect of Odhranos description that truly arrests the Kensais attention, if only because the most curious possibility creeps to mind, "Whilst he wouldn't normally sense what you do, would it be possible for you to- swap primary awarenesses in the instance one of you becomes non functional for reasons of...say, anxiety, panic, or even mental domination or Geas- especially given the seperate containers for your souls?" The swordsman may or may not have a profound dislike for being puppeted, "Er, Also, is there any other questions you had- I realize I'm grilling tu at this moment, but I find it- interesting, especially since your . . . companion es much less malign then the majority I've encountered."

Odhranos smirks at Kasyr's suggestion. "I'll have to remember that one. Might bringing it up with the Bard's next time I stop by the lodge, if I ever want to perform something other than violin or piano." The terramancer chuckles warmly, and S'erok grins wryly at the thought. Kasyr's line of inquiry dampens the terramancer's mirth as it reminds him of recent events best gone unremembered. "Mmm, it is possible to effectively swap places, though our souls remain anchored in our respective vessels, so if the connection were broken, we would return back as before." Odhranos taps his chin in thought. "I haven't had the opportunity to test whether it could be used as a means of subverting arcane control such as a geas, but in terms dealing with incapacitating emotional states…" Odhranos grimaces before continuing. "... During the Razurath incident in Trist'oth, I found myself incapacitated at a crucial moment and S'erok had to step in and save us both from death at the hands of a squad of dark Razurath. In fact, most of our encounters with the Razurath were dealt with by S'erok. I… didn't particularly want to be involved in the genocide, to be perfectly honest." Odhranos shrugs sadly, evidently the weight of his involvement in the Razurath genocide is something that still bothers him greatly. Odhranos waves away Kasyr's concerns; "Grill away. It's only fair that I offer my knowledge freely if I expect you to do the same. Besides, discussing this topic with someone who has experience in the realms of soul-magic may reveal as much to me about my own abilities as it does to you." Odhranos smiles, drumming his thumbs against the golden cage. "But, yes, indeed, I have more questions, if you're happy to answer them; when you absorb a soul, is there any particular method or technique that has to be used? Could a soul be absorbed at any moment, or only upon the death of the host vessel? And upon absorption, does the soul retain autonimity, or is it merely the power and knowledge that is absorbed?"

Kasyr is using the time that Odhranos has gone pensive to comb over his coat, rifling through his pockets offhandedly. It's only when he plucks forward a slightly greasy looking cigarette that he ceases his search, stuffing it into the corner of his mouth, before making a questioning gesture in the Terramancers direction. Whether or not he could light it, it was staying in place all the same. "Mm. If S'erok is able to take control when you're not necessarily capable of ceding it, I think it would lend credence to it being a viable defense. Peut-etre. I'm less certain about Geas' however, if your souls don't in fact exchange vessels, since I've heard some can be rather...binding." Though he offers a wry grin with those words, he's not overly forthcoming with any other details, at least until he finds himself the subject of Odhranos' Curiosity once more. "Well, mine came due to a demonic nature, et by et large, the consumption of souls was rather literal." He clicks his teeth together, still sharper than they ought to be, before folding his right hand beneath his chin. "Though, yes, it required the, er, " Victim ? Meal? " Subject to be dead. Otherwise, taking a bite was just expediting the process. That said, I ended up finding out that actually consuming the body was unnecessary as time went on. In the instances where a body was toxic, or ...lacking in the aftermath, I was still quite capable of simply ingesting the spiritual remains." Kasyr pauses there for a moment, quietly contemplating what he'd just said, before adding, "In fact, I think it's that demonic influence which ultimately influenced me as a vampire- since I developed the ability to draw free flowing blood to myself. An ease of feeding as it were." There's shrug, before he recalls the final part of the question, "As for the souls- Initially they did have some form of autonomy, et given that I had not been born a demon- it was a wholly overwhelming process which led to some, troubling losses in control. But as time wore on, they were broken down et subsumed. All save the most potent ones would find themselves overwhelmed almost immediately by the end of it." On a strictly theoretical level, the Kensai is almost curious what it would look like if his soul effectively exploded. It'd probably be impressive.

Odhranos doesn’t immediately react when Kasyr produces his cigarette, so engrossed in his thoughts, but when he notices Kasyr’s gesture, the barest of winces is noticeable in the mage’s eyes. Standing up from his chair, Odhranos turns towards the window, undoing the latch with a gesture and hauling the old sash window upwards, letting a chilly gust sweep into the little office, which has gotten quite stuffy since the two arrived. While Odhranos freshens the air, S’erok takes a step forward and reaches a hand across the table to pinch the end of Kasyr’s cigarette. The sand-man’s index finger and thumb glow briefly and a small curl of smoke escapes from where the superheated sand ignites the end of the cigarette. S’erok leans back with a wink and a smirk as he blows on his fingertips, while Odhranos returns to his seat. “Old Grey would get antsy if his books ended up smelling, but a man needs a smoke every so often.” S’erok’s gravelled tones are light with humour and he gently elbows the terramancer’s shoulder as he takes a seat on the corner of the desk, reaching up to pluck a random hardbound tome down from the shelf and flicks through it idly. Odhranos squints balefully at the nonchalant dragon, then turns his attention back to his guest. “Fascinating, so over time, souls inhabiting the same vessel do get broken down and absorbed. Hmm… perhaps it’s for the best that S’erok and I are still functionally separate then. That could prove troublesome otherwise.” Odhranos’ eyebrows shoot skyward as he considers what might have been if the mechanisms of S’erok’s reliquary prison had been different; he might not have ever returned from that desert. A sobering thought, to be sure. “When you mentioned that some of the first souls you absorbed retained their autonomy at first, but as time wore on, this assimilation period grew shorter. Would you have any insights as to why that was?” Odhranos glances at S’erok and a funny sort of expression crosses his features; the sort of face one would make looking at a close and dear friend, or a beloved family member, a soft expression, deep with familial affection. Humorously, S’erok senses the emotions behind this glance through his mental bond and turns at the waist, shooting the mage a glare of disgust at such a show of emotion, reaching across to flick the terramancer in the forehead, eliciting a chuckle from Odhranos as he dodges the flick. “Ahaha, ahh, excuse me. I was just wondering, at any point, while these souls retained their individuality, did you ever… engage with them? Come to understand them at all? Or were your interactions always negative or antagonistic?”

Kasyr can't help but return the smirk as he takes in the first drawn out puff from his cigarette, a long coiling whisp of smoke slipping from between his lips alongside a contented sigh. "I'm not sure that it would be the case that -all- souls would break down in a normal instance. But, considering what I was at the time, that was certainly the natural state of things. That said, even without the risk of one of them being broken down by the other, it seems common place that when a vessel is shared by multiple souls, one usually dominates the other." The kensai pauses for a moment, before carefully adding, "I think were the consumption of souls something more readily done, we'd have less incidences of temporary possessions, ou souls being swapped between objects or bodies. En fait, I can't actually think of anyone else that harboured spirits in a similar manner as I did, save perhaps . . . Solaris?" The swordsman isn't entirely sure on the matter of the dreadlord, but there'd been the distinct sense of a number of souls trapped within the vessel of his body. "Anyways, as for why it became easier for me to er, assimilate them- J'pense it was a combination of my own spirit strengthening enough to overtake those I came in contact with, as well as an experience of sorts. The difference between my own et others. Which also makes sense, en fait, why amongst the many I had consumed, there was a particular spirit that -refused- to be properly ...digested, as it were. It carried a potent taint that made it stand worlds apart from most." The matter of the souls individuality is a bit of a more curious topic for the swordsman altogether, and altogether somber when he actually pauses to think on it. "By and large, those I'd consumed had been in combat, which meant a fair amount of hostility. The few that were not were more agreeable, but the nature of what I was at the time meant that I intuitively consumed even ...friendly spirits, as it were." Whatever memory accompanies this line of thought, it's enough to have the Kensai fall utterly quiet, the cigarette burning between his lips.

Odhranos nods and hums as Kasyr explains the development of his soul-assimilation over time. “So perhaps, it was a particular trait of being a tiefling that resulted in the eventual dissolution of souls, rather than it being a case that every possession results in homogenization at some point. Interesting. Though, unfortunately a dead end in terms of research, as there are no longer any tieflings in Lithrydel, or so my research has told me, and I would be against trialing an experiment to force two mundane souls to cohabitate a single vessel if there is the potential for... well… “soul-death”. I wouldn’t want that on my conscience, not even for the sake of expanding our knowledge.” Odhranos’ expression is stern; unlike some of his more wayward colleagues, Odhranos is a firm advocate of holding the safety and wellbeing of researchers and their subjects over the advancement of knowledge. A book soaked in blood is no document Odhranos wants any part of. The terramancer’ expression relaxes as Kasyr recounts his personal experiences with the souls that he absorbed, and the mage frowns sadly at the thought of benevolent spirits being dissolved irrespective of whether they meant harm or not. “Do you still have the capability to absorb souls, or has that ability been lost to you since your unsiring? Or was it dampened somewhat by the transition?”

Kasyr gives a rather rueful smile, "I imagine if you're around long enough, you can just wait til someone eventually gets possessed, enfin. There's bound to be an enterprising soul that finds themself inhabited in search of that ever elusive chunk of power or knowledge they seek." There's a sort of disdain in his tone there, mirthful yet dripping acid over every syllable. "Daedria knows if there wasn't, I probably wouldn't have ended up killing so many people." Whatever else the kensai might have to say on the subject is lost however, Odhranos frown and the accompanying implication enough to see that Kasyr turns his head off to the side in an effort to pick over any interesting book titles, or rock formations on the terramancers shelf. Anything, really, to distract and distance himself from those recollections. At least until the mention of 'Unsiring'- at about which point his attention is sharply focused again, "Pardon? . . . Oh! You mean, the tiefling thing, oui. That...would be a fair assertion. Whilst I've been able to retain all the strength I had gathered then, I have not been able to...consume more since then. Still, there has been times where I've wondered if I might be able to find a way to glean some glimpses of power or knowledge, at least in the short term, from the Vitae of someone. It's not exactly a subject that has a lot of research on it, enfin." Nor a curiosity the Kensai can indulge in easily, given the whole 'not actually a vampire' currently. Work in progress. Yes.

Odhranos snorts quietly. “Mmm, indeed, if I am around long enough.” S’erok turns and rolls his eyes to Kasyr, as if to say “Tsk, humans and their mortality, am I right?”, which results in Odhranos shooting him a glare. “Save it, S’erok. We can’t all have draconian lifespans.” S’erok snorts mirthfully and turns back to his book, grinning to himself, which Odhranos sighs and resumes note-taking. “Xalious knows there’ll always be mages too curious for their own good, getting themselves into bother with possessed relics and the likes. I should know, I am one such mage.” The terramancer’s expression has lightened once more and the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes crease with warm humour. Odhranos nibbles the end of his quill thoughtfully. “Mmm, soul magic is not a subject that the Guild has a lot of information on, at least not anymore. After the incident with S’erok’s imprisoning, the Guild Council cracked down on illegal and immoral research, as word got out about the Guild’s practices and would have had a pretty damning effect on it’s standing in Lithrydel. Whatever knowledge there was was buried deep enough that it is beyond my reach. However -” Odhranos pats the golden cage by his side as he smiles across at Kasyr. “I intend on recovering it, and putting it to good use, teaching us how we might easier undo possession and ensure that nothing like this relic every happens again.”

Kasyr lifts an eyebrow at the terramancers statement, and keeps it aloft when his draconian companion manages to provoke an absolutely mischievous grin. "Well, you could always take a page from some of your peers. I heard Lichdom es still in vogue occasionally." The kensai actually pauses for a moment, whatever else he was going to say lost as he proceeds to fixate on the cage for a moment, even as Odhranos proceeds to further detail his plans, and reasoning. It's only when he's done that the Kensai can finally voice what's on his mind, "I think you are going to be disappointed if you think no-one es going to try something like that relic, enfin- because it occurred to me. What they did, es like a phylactery of sorts, non?" That's what had seemed so peculiar, wasn't it? "It's certainly a fruitful avenue of research in any case, especially given your situation- but I can certainly see parallels enfin."

Odhranos visibly grimaces at the mention of lichdom. “Mmm, indeed. To be perfectly honest, I would rather a natural lifespan and an eventual death over following Tiphareth down that dark and sordid path. I lament that my race isn’t granted the time that others are given, but in the end of the day, I intend to use the time I have properly, rather than spending it hoarding more.” When Kasyr brings up the point that others would try to replicate the relic, the terramancer nods, and a wry grin plucks at his mouth. “I’d imagine they would. No, I’m certain someone would. If there is one thing that can be expected in this world, it is that if power exists, someone will eventually try claim it. However! That is exactly why I aim not to prevent this inevitable, but to provide a solution to neutralise it.” Odhranos gesticulates as he speaks waving his hands animatedly. “Even if I were to do my best to bury what information I could find, I could be certain that it would eventually see the light of day, and likely in the hands of someone who would use it for immoral purposes. However, if I gain this knowledge, spend the time understanding it and devise a means of undoing it, then I openly circulate this method of neutralisation, I can ensure that if someone eventually does attempt another relic, they can be stopped with ease by any of the multitude of individuals that know how.” Odhranos spreads his hands in explanation. “Education over ignorance, I say.”

Kasyr's expression grows all the more amused at the Terramancers obvious discomfort, and the choice of words as he continues only causes it to grow more pronounced. "Natural as in, without the extensions that Potions et quoi-ce-soit can provide? Or natural, as in embracing whenever conflict finally catches up with the likes of us?" There's a pause before the Kensai casually adds, "What es it that makes lichdom so...sordid, enfin? Do you think you'd intrinsically grow darker if you didn't have to be ...as constantly concerned about your demise?" That bit of needling aside, the swordsman does at least nod in regards to Odhranos designs, "At the very least, they'd need to reinvent the process to circumvent what you'd spread. It's not a bad thought. Though, I can certainly see ways that it could be misused. For instance, if certain holy vessels had guardian spirits et the like- I imagine your plan could help lay the groundwork for blighting them, or ridding them of what makes them sacred." The kensai pauses there for a few moments, before scratching at his chin, "Not that I'm trying to dissuade tu with hypotheticals. Just a weird tangent I'd considered." How -did- the sword that Redovian once wielded function. It held a spirit, after all, but it was divine in nature, and the process to bonding them had undoubtedly been different from the grim ritual that had imbued the cage with S'eroks soul. "Anyways. Anything else to add, enfin?"

Odhranos strokes his chin in thought. "A good question. I can't say I've entirely pinned down my feelings on the subject. I suppose I am in favour of each of us having our time and accepting it for what it is, rather than taking dubiously moral means of extending that lifetime. The ritual of lichdom has always been a practice steeped in controversy and secrecy, which naturally makes me wary of it. If it were a benign method, it would be more open and understood by all. The mere fact that the process is kept hidden from public knowledge doesn't endear me to the practice to begin with." Odhranos taps his chin, before fixing Kasyr with a wry smile. "As for not having to worry about your death or not, well, that's half the experience of living, isn't it? Mortality serves to affirm life by relative comparison. Though, I can't completely vouch for that, as I haven't died yet. Remind me to get back to you on that one." With a hearty chuckle, Odhranos picks up his pile of sheets and tidies the pile before flipping through them. "Mmm, I can see that that could be an issue. However, I would wager that there are as many variant of soul-bound techniques as there are with any magic. If I can merely hope to ensure that one of those techniques is prevented from being used maliciously, I feel it is worth the minor risk it may pose to other incompatible techniques." Odhranos finishes flipping through the pile and plops the sheaf back on the table. "I do believe that is plenty for me to work on for the time being! It has been a pleasure, Kasyr, thank you for stopping by and sharing your insights. You have been immensely helpful." The Provost gets out of his chair and reaches his hand across the table for Kasyr to shake, while he beams warmly.

Kasyr rises up to return the handshake firmly, altogether looking pleased, "Well, I'm glad I could be of service. Enfin, this helped to put a few things into focus for myself, as well." As he draws his hand back, he does take a moment to give the terramancer a rather cheeky grin, "Right. I'll be sure to hire a medium so I can get back to you on your mortal musings, later. Ou quoi-ce-soit." That said, the swordsman begins to sidle away towards the office door, only pausing one last time to state, "Do let me know when you have some free time. I really am interested about unearthing those items from Lanlans office. Et maybe bouncing some of my own writings off you. A bientot." And then he's shuffling out the door, probably to teach a class- though whether he'll be productive after, or busy dipping into the store of whiskey that he's stashed inside the filing cabinet in his office is something else entirely.