RP:The Robelous Legacy

Part of the Lies Within Us Arc

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Summary: After being freed from his centuries long imprisonment Haladavar constructs a workshop of horrors in the abandoned ruins of the Nameless Desert. While picking up where his work had left off a millennia ago, Haladavar is visited by a mysterious anonymous guest. The news that this guest imparts hints at shadowy happenings and things yet to come.

Ruins of Greatness

Inside Lanlan's body, which is inside the abandoned 'Ruins of Greatness', Haladavar is presiding over a group of wooden automatons. They're dexterous and polished hinges, sockets, balls, connected to lifeless carved pieces of wood. They appear something like halflings, but they don't eat or cook, unlike halflings. They only work. They endlessly toil in a confounding arrangement of suffering. Not theirs, of course. They don't feel anything, or think anything. They turn raw materials into magical energy, while Haladavar tries to answer his questions. The majestic phoenix is one of their raw materials. When its magic brings it back to life, where does this magic come from? Was it always there, dormant in the phoenix's physiology until it was awakened? Is it delivered from somewhere else at the necessary time? Each time the phoenix is reborn in its prison of icy bars, it is perforated by a legion of icicle spear-wielding constructs, where it then is reduced again to ash. Then it is reborn. Through a strange and confounding array of machines both magical and mechanical, magic is harvested and stored. It's a complex array of lights, prisms, lenses, crystals, and metal in a variety of shapes. Haladavar, in Lanlan's body, records a tedious amount of data in a spreadsheet, while occasionally chewing and drinking.

Across the endless sea of sand, a single lone wisp of smoke drifts across the dunes. Somehow defying the logic of all mist and smog, the cloud obstinately refuses to disperse, even as the dry winds whip it about, wreathing it in sand and dust. Eventually, by some trick of a gust, the wisp is blown from the sky and whisks in and around the crumbling stones of the ruins that lie in the desert's heart. Floating lazily through the air, it passes by the cruel wooden limbs of the automatons, swirling past the icy bars that hold the phoenix in it's perpetual cycle of torment and finally drifting until it lies fog-like around the dusty flagstones behind Haladavar. Suddenly, the cloud expands, ballooning outwards and upwards, until it takes on the rough size of a humanoid, though it displays no distinct features, just the slowly coruscating curlicues of smoke. "Fascinating, isn't it?" the cloud whispers, it's words soft, sibilant and lazy, much like it's form. "The secrets this world holds, just waiting to be teased from it's fabric. How... scintillating."

Haladavar approached the smoke bravely, spitting food out along the way. First he looks at the apparently intelligent smoke from every angle, before deciding on a conclusion. "Some secrets are. Many often disappoint in the end." He pushes his hand through the smoke cloud. "You're not really here are you? That's good for you, since I don't approve of people who spy on my research." Energy begins to swirl around Lanlan's body invisibly. "Since you obviously knew I was here," he says while beginning to walk in a tight circle around the sentient cloud, "and knew enough not to appear in person (I suspect), then you know something about me? Is that right? What is my name?" Every step Lanlan's body took around his enemy spy left a small glyph in its place. The completed circle trapped this cloudy consciousness within the circle, separating it even from its own body, wherever that was.

The ashy cloud swirles bemusedly as Haladavar pushes his hand through its centre. "No, as you correctly surmised, we are not "here", persay." As Haladavar circles the cloud, posing his questions, it merely wafts about nonchalantly, giving him time to finish before it responds. "Correct once again, Haladavar. It seems records of your ability were not exaggerated." As the circle of glyphs is completed, the cloud suddenly loses cohesion and slinks to the ground, either to pool against the borders of Haladavar's containment, or to spill aimlessly across the floor. "Now, that was rather pointless, wasn't it?" The voice continues unabated, with an amused tone in its voice, as it continues to whisper from seemingly nowhere at all. "Yes, Haladavar, we know who you are. We have known for a very, very long time. And we have been preparing for almost as long. Tell me, how is that inferior vessel coping with your soul crammed inside it? I'm sure the drow it belonged to is none too happy for his... reappropriation?" The voice swirls around Haladavar, as if it were still smoke, drifting and dancing through the heat of the desert like an auditory mirage.

Haladavar's intention was to trap this entity's 'third eye' and then trace it back to wherever it came from. Now he changed his mind. "Records of my abilities survived?" He decided to lift the glyphs up and allow the voice the dignity of having an outline. It did also give him something to talk to. "This strangely colored elf is as decent a vessel as I've been able to find. Though it shares the same weakness as any other." It was evident on Lanlan's body. It was frail to begin with. But it hasn't been fed properly, it hasn't been allowed the rest it requires. It was dehydrated. "I'll find another soon. Hmm," he says as he remembers something. "Who are you?"

As Haladavar's glyphs released their containment, the smoke ceased its aimless dissolving and slowly reformed into its previous shape, coagulating into the wispy form of a humanoid. "Indeed. Extensive records, though, they have been kept from the public eye for the sake of discrection." The smoky figure wafts about, almost as if it were pacing. "As for our identity, well, you may refer to us as... The Ossian Order." The smog-wraith slinks around to Haladavar's table, bending at the waist to examine the detailed spreadsheet that Haladavar had been working at before it continues. "After you were imprisoned, those of the Robelous believed your legacy had been put to rest with your incarceration. But there were those that disagreed with your sealing." The smoky figure lifts its scrutiny from the page and straightens, continuing in its gusty promenade around the table. "As the centuries crawled by, the Robelous faded into obscurity and knowledge of your existance passed into myth. But the dissidents, they kept the legend alive. They stayed in the shadows, planning and preparing." The smoky figure turned and a depression formed in its face, a wide cheshire grin. "For the day that Lord Haladavar would be set free and this world would become enlightened."

Haladavar attempts to remain stoic against the revelation about the secret recordkeeping of his past, but a slight smile betrays him and reveals his pride. "It's good to see that some people could see the wisdom in my extreme actions. They were necessary." Behind him, the phoenix that had recently died was nothing but a pile of ash, but with a dull red feather sitting atop the small mound. He glanced at it over his shoulder and issued a silent command to his constructs. They circled the cage, balanced some cold metal tridents on the frosty bars, and waited. "I've never heard of the Ossian Order." Though Haladavar hasn't existed in this time for very long, he has learned much. "So I doubt many others have either." By now Haladavar was openly tolerant of his mysterious smoky intruder, and apparently dropping his guard against it. "What does your order wish to accomplish? And how would you use me for this?"

The smoky figure bows deeply towards Haladavar when the ancient elf mentions never having heard of the Ossian Order. "Then our efforts to remain hidden have been successful. Though our founders were members of your tribe, as the ages crept by, they were forced to hide themselves and pass their purpose onto others. As such, our purpose has grown and matured with time as we have grown in the unobserved shadows of the world." The cloud began pacing once more, as it explained. "At first, our only task was to free you from imprisonment, but with time, our attention was, well, broadened." The smokey figure strides through the chaotic workshop and stops between a pair of columns, framing the endless sea of sand beyond. "This world is governed by fear. Fear of power, fear of freedom, fear of death. If we simply released you from your cage of amber, this world of fear would simply seek to imprison you again, or even to finally put you to rest. It came to our attention that if your vision of power is to be realised, then this world must change to fit it." The shadowy figure steps out onto the sandstone ledge and looked northwest, where the red dust clouds were catching the rays of the descending sun. "So, we hid ourselves away. Insinuated ourselves into the greatest investiture of power in this land, where we would grow in its midst, and slowly turn it to our purpose." The shadow spread its arms wide as it faced the northwest, where far away, beyond sand and swamp and forest and mountain, a small village lay nestled in a valley. "The Mages Guild of Xalious. Ten thousand of Lithrydel's strongest mages, gathered in the one institute, where power can thrive, and ideas, ideas of how this world could be improved, can spread. Like wildfire." As arms of smoke fell back into the shifting mass, a chuckle whispered from the figure. "And the Ossian Order? Nestled in its midst. Walking its corridoors. Speaking in seminars, working in laboratories." The smoke chuckled once more, now deeper and throatier. "And running its council." With one last glance, the wispy cloud turned back to Haladavar to study his expression. "The Mages Guild is a weapon that can change this world irrevocably. The Ossian Order is the catalyst. You, my Lord, are the spark."

The dull red feather behind Haladavar began to glow bright while emitting massive amounts of heat. Haladavar cranked a lever, and a chandelier of prismatic gems lowered until it was over the cage. With no apparent effort, he telekinetically pulled it down lower until the gems just barely touched the perimeter of the cage. He then sat in a beautiful throne of sandstone, where at the hands of each armrest was socketed another large gem. "And then I freed myself from imprisonment," he said callously. "Yes, I'm sure I can see what your goals are. Power! Mine are the same. I do see how I could be a great asset for your order. I fail to see why I might need you." The bright feather was growing violently bright, the red turned orange, yellow, white. The gems touching the cage absorbed much of the latent magical power involved in the spontaneous combustion. Much of it would be wasted, it was now being harnessed. The prism of gems touching the cage collected, light, heat, and pure magic, then turned it over to the gems inlaid in Haladavar's throne. He feasted on it. With a loud shriek, the blinding light dissipated, revealing a beautiful bird of smoldering red and orange feathers. The constructs, with no sense of tact or guile, thrust their tridents against the fiery bird. It didn't go as planned. The bird caught a prong in its beak and tore it away from the construct. The critical moment passed, the phoenix's heat continued to rise. In a moment the surrounding cage melted completely, and the constructs standing ready to murder the creature caught fire without even being touched by the phoenix. It was free, and recognized Haladavar as its, captor, its torturer, its nemesis. With abandon it dove toward the gray elf's body. Haladavar was not prepared for this, but acted to protect himself. He pointed to three empty spaces in the air, and a separate glyph appeared in each. When the phoenix approached, the glyphs were activated, seemingly by the attack of the phoenix itself. A wall of force spread outward from them, and the Phoenix crashed into it. It was stunned for only a second, and then it flew through the stone arches and disappeared. 'Goodbye' it said with a triumphant shriek. Haladavar absorbed the scene, and the wastes of his lab. His constructs were burning, and his expensive gems vaporized. The vibrant crystals in his throne were dull. He sighed. "This wouldn't have happened if I had intelligent helpers." He stood up and dusted off Lanlan's body and clothes. The effort took a toll on Lanlan's body, and he became lightheaded, slumping back into the chair. Once his senses returned. "I need a stronger body..." he said almost to himself.

The smoke cloud sways nonchalantly as Haladavar bemoans having had to release himself, and questions why he would need the Ossian Order. Likewise, the cloud offers no reaction as the phoenix erupts into glorious rebirth, subsequently incinerating its cage and incarcerators alike. Once Haladavar slumps into his throne, the smoky figure steps forwards. "Yes. We'll freely admit, we had not accounted for you attempting to release yourself. We've had the knowledge on how to break the amber seal for centuries. But, there was one crucial element missing in our plans that delayed your release." The shade floats towards the throne, circling around slowly. "As I'm sure you're aware, Lord Haladavar, souls cannot survive outside of their original vessels for long. They can be temporarily rehoused in another's body, but before long, this body will reject them, and if nothing is done, the soul will be disapated and lost. Permanently." The smoke cloud leans down and brings it's face closer to Haladavar's. "I'm sure you can feel it now, my lord. The meddling drow, he fights for control of his body, slowly forcing you out. Weakening your hold on this world. Pushing you closer to the void." The smoke rears back and continues its pacing. "But, there is a way to prevent this. A way for a soul to live forever. In a body unshackled from the chains of entropy and decay." The smoky figure seems to waver, as if writhing in excitement at the prospect. "For the past thousand years, we have toiled for this purpose, and now, so close to its fruition, this insolent worm of a drow very nearly shattered our plans." The smoke curdles and broils. The cloud sways back, then drops, seemingly falling to one knee before Haladavar. "Return to Xalious, Lord Haladavar. There we can begin the process of making you a fitting vessel for your soul, and you can discard this failing husk, as was planned centuries ago."

Haladavar pressed a few fingers to the forehead of the body he inhabited. It ached. "This meddling drow was doing exactly as I wanted," he said with some annoyance. "In fact I was lucky to be able to inhabit such a fine specimen." As the words left his lips, Haladavar became visibly confused. "Uh. Yes. You're right, though. I can't remain here permanently." He takes one last look at his ruined lab. There's no notes to speak of, they aren't needed. "Then I will see you momentarily. In person, I hope." He produces a staff from the air. It's an impossible alloy. Made of a shiny black wood from the butt to about the middle, where it visibly begins to be blended with a dull gray metal. At the top, it tapers to a point, and the black wood emerges again at the tip. He jabs the butt of the magic stick into the ground and spins, creating a circle in the stone floor under him. Then he fluidly spins the staff 180 degrees, sticking the point down. He easily scratches delicate runes into the stone as if using a pen on paper. Normally such runes would need to be charged before they can serve a function. Haladavar's staff fulfills this need. Every strange letter he carves lights up before he begins the next one. And when he's finished, all the runes in the circle communicate with each other and agree. They send Haladavar and Lanlan back to Xalious.