Maidens of the Kaleidoscope

~Hakurei Shrine~ => Patchouli's Scarlet Library => Topic started by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 05:18:21 AM

Title: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 05:18:21 AM
This is not a Touhou-related work. This is my personal work of the past three, four years. I've been unable to garner any feedback from the flesh-and-blood people I know in my social circle; I figure it's about time I share this with people who may actually like it.



Kaetir
Icarian Armor

Dedicated to Jack Van Kirk, for encouraging imagination



Foreword from Baedlius

I am Baedlius, a God-like being on a planet different from your own; Earth. Herein you will find a story of our history, present, and future, so that you may learn from it should any similar situations arise.
You should understand that there are Gods, and we are not all-powerful. Many of us are just like normal humans, although the humans on our world and on yours are slightly different. Due to a complex mixture of elements in our air that are not found on your Earth, humankind on Kaetir has evolved with what your kind would describe as Magic, and Psycho-kinesis.
I?ve observed your past, and found mention of the Gods that your race believes in. The Christian Bible has a man described as the Son of God, Jesus Christ. He is as we, the Gods of Kaetir, are; advanced beyond the typical human, sent forth to do God?s Will.
When I said that we are not all-powerful, I was referring to the common Gods such as myself. We all follow the lead of the One Primary God, the one your Christians name as God, and the Islamic names Allah, and the Bodhisattva names Buddha, who is in fact the true ruler of all life in the universe.
Because of the nature of your world, your Jesus Christ was not required to return more than a few times ? and he has, despite your cultures believing he has yet to come again. Several times throughout your history he has returned, under a different body, name, and region, and continued to do the work of God, and to spread good deeds.
On our world, where the average human can wreak havoc on entire cities, we need a cabal of Gods to form a basis for an all-encompassing religion, to help guide our people. By that same principle, though, where a human can end up being born in such an evolved state that they themselves may end up a God, there has been a limit placed on us. We can only draw on our gifts and abilities as long as our population follows us in worship. The Gods who attempt to abuse this are cast out of our cabal and banished from returning to the spiritual realm we typically reside in, and must make do with their own abilities and are cut off from the support of God and any of the people, save for whomever they can convince to worship them.
There are two such types of Gods; we call them the Outer Gods, and the Rogues. Outer Gods may have simply chosen to directly intervene in human events, as opposed to the Inner Gods methods of guiding their followers through periodic appearances. They?ve left the ascended realm that the Gods reside in, either permanently or for extended periods of time, and roam the earth doing as they will. If however a God has been ejected from our ranks and stripped of his followers, and begins to wreak havoc, he is considered a Rogue God and is subject to any form of punishment, including death with no reincarnation, and is completely cut off from all the other Gods. All Rogues are Outer Gods in that they cannot and will not return to our realm, but Outer Gods are not all Rogues. Despite their being cut off from our rapport, the populace continues to worship the Outer Gods out of respect for them and at the guidance of the Inner Gods.
There are similarities between our worlds, however. Because we share the same general climate zones and terrains, many animals have evolved the same between our planets. Earth has some that we do not, just as we have animals you lack. The best example I could give is the work of one of my companion Gods; he took favor to the legend of the Phoenix and crafted one for himself. He uses it to move around when he?s in the human realm. Our people call it the Zer?tair, but rather than list all our animals and name your counterparts, I?ll simply call them by your name. None of my people will read this tale, so I don?t worry about confusing them.
A very large difference, however, is our societies. The Kaetir are aware of electricity; it is in fact the basis behind a great deal of magic, but they haven?t harnessed it as a power source. Instead of far-reaching networks of technology keeping the world linked together, we instead use human telepaths. To look at our cities, you?d think they were built in your medieval era, or perhaps late in the Renaissance of your world. People ride horses and oversized dogs to travel great distances, rather than your steel vehicles. Powered movement without the aid of magic has been sought, and developed, through the use of steam. However, with the abundance of mages and psycho-kinetics, the demand for such technology is low, and our development has stalled in such a fashion.
I also commend your world on its perfection of flight; there are only a few tamed avian specimens from an already rare species on our world big enough to actually carry people to be worth the effort; the main royal families use them the most. Otherwise, the only time people fly is in the presence of an incredibly gifted wielder of Telekinesis. Attempts have been made to make it easier for less gifted Mentalists to lift others, much less themselves, through the air, but for the most part it has failed. Improperly handling a human body in a telekinetic grip will either rip the specimen apart, or crush vital organs and veins. Having a subject hold onto a sturdier item and lifting that item can only work for as long as the subjects grip can last.
Entering our planets orbit is out of the question. Obviously, however, we can expand our awareness as far as the galaxy expands. Through you we have learnt there are other galaxies out there, but without our own to use as a focal point, the risk of losing yourself to the vastness of space are too great to attempt to reach them. That is, of course, how this story has ended up in the mind of one of your authors.
There are differences in your world compared to mine. Don?t read this tale and expect for it to have happened in your past, like the ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses did. This is our story, a tale of worldwide corruption seeping into one of the controlling factors of our entire society. I hope you can learn caution from this story, and thus prevent the same thing from ever happening to you. You do in fact have a part in God?s plan.
Perhaps you can also learn to harness other sources of power; you have an abundance of nitrogen and hydrogen on your Earth, but you do nothing with it, preferring to crudely burn petroleum in a very inefficient manner. I find that incredibly odd.




I just realized as I started to submit this, I'm going to have to reformat the entire thing.

....crap.

By the way, if that looked like a wall of text to you, good, it was supposed to. That little bit sits different from the rest of the story's formatting, as it's a separate entity. The rest of this will be tweaked to read better on the forums with how I normally present things (carriage returns instead of indentions)
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 05:49:18 AM
Act I
Pledging

Chapter 1

Anja grinned. She wasn?t particularly amused, but it was necessary to smile. Doing so allowed her to continue her work, to keep her in Reginald?s favor. The skinny man was odd ? very withdrawn and introverted. However, he had tremendous political power and sway in the Maging Guilds, and on top of that he was very wealthy. A bit old for her tastes, though. She had her eye on some of the Knights and Paladins in the local garrison, the largest on the continent, centered on Reginald?s Guildhall, and was considering twisting one of them to suit her needs.

But before she could do that, she had to finish her work at the moment. So she grinned.

?That?s not nearly as painful as you make it seem, Anja. Observe,? Reginald quipped, and pulled his own face into a grin. ?Now that we?re all smiles, show me how much more you?ve learned to control your powers. Destroy just the diamond crystal without disturbing the rings around it.?

Anja?s smile faltered. The diamond was just a speck in the distance, and the rings surrounding it were but a centimeter away from it. Clenching her jaw and forcing the smile into her face so hard it may have been etched into a stone statue, she raised her left hand towards the minuscule target in the distance.

Sighting down her arm, she pointed one finger at it and reached into the corner of her mind that she had previously never known was there. As soon as her awareness brushed its surface, fields of pure magic power began to arc out from her skin. They were colorless, and emitted no light, but if you knew what you were looking for, you could see them. Twisting her mind around it, she pulled the rippling waves towards her hands. It wasn?t necessary for her to surround her hands, but she preferred to have it where she could keep track of it, and it didn?t take her but a blink of an eye to do so. Reginald observed this, but as it was a habit for her to constantly do so, he assumed it was just a characteristic of her magic.

Anja closed one eye and looked down her arm, pointing her one finger again. Absently, she fanned her other hand out slightly, holding it away from her body, palm out, and flexing the fingers slowly. Again, there was no point to this, but it was habit.

She pushed at her magic. The wavering field around her extended hand flattened down instantly and began to pulse into a fierce orange light. Immediately it shot forward in a fine line, from finger to diamond. The bolt pierced the diamond cleanly, but the jewel shattered in a very messy explosion.
The rings immediately next to the diamond fractured and fell off the stand, and the outer rings began to clatter and jingle against each other noisily.

Anja dropped her arm and frowned. The magic surrounding her other hand sputtered and vanished with a blast of static.

Reginald?s forced smile vanished as well. ?Anja, for shame. At least, however, you didn?t obliterate all the rings. Just a moment.? He folded his arms behind his back and blinked. The cracked rings on the ground quivered, then jumped back up into the air. By the time they?d settled back on the hoops that held them to the stand, they had re-solidified and were back in one piece. Another diamond was raised up from the base of the stand and settled into its place of honor at the center.

Anja?s frowned etched deeper into her face. She knew he was going to make her shoot at it again, and she knew she wouldn?t be able to hit it with the accuracy he?d demanded of her.

?Since we?ve already spent the greater part of a week working on just this, I think I?ll give you a hint now.? Reginald turned halfway and called behind him. ?Gilt, come forward please.?

A short, young girl hopped with a start, detached herself from her teacher, and then hurried over to the guild master and his apprentice. ?Yes, sir? What can I do for mankind?? she asked.

Reginald bowed at the waist slightly, and declared, ?Let what has been taught be unlearned, and open your mind anew.? Satisfying the little chant, he continued, ?I want you to use your gift to show Mrs. Anja here how to destroy a small target nestled between larger ones. Do you see the staff at the far end of the range? In the center of it, there is a diamond. Destroy, or remove, this diamond, without damaging or disturbing the rings around it.?

Gilt blinked, and settled her shoulders. The girl was much younger than Anja, and less than half her height. Her tunics? sleeves nearly dwarfed her arms, causing her hands to disappear inside them until she raised them out to both sides.

Anja?s frown couldn?t have gotten any deeper, though she found an insubordinate muscle twitching in her cheek. Her pride was being severely wounded by this test, and to have a child show her how to do it? This Gilt would have to come across a rather unfortunate accident, something to trip up her training and leave her humiliated in front of her classmates.

But despite Anja?s misgivings about the girl, she performed spectacularly. With her hands stretched out as far as they could be, she called out a single word, ?Bolta!? ? gibberish on its own, but just as necessary to her as smiling was to Anja. It had nothing to do with what her spell did, and in fact, contrary to Anja?s expectations from this incantation, did not shoot an actual projectile towards the diamond. The air around the staff began to twist about and warp, before it all blasted outwards then doubled back, curving in and pecking the diamond clean from its mount. The staff shuddered slightly with the pressure, but none of the rings wavered enough to collide with each other, or the staff. No sounds rang out to indicate a failed attempt.

Reginald unclasped his hands from behind his back and gave Gilt a terse round of applause. ?Very good, Gilt. You may return to your class. Anja, tell, me, what do you notice about Gilt??

As the younger girl hurried back to her teacher and fellow mages, nearly tripping over the excessive length of her robes, Anja pulled her scowl back into a neutral expression. ?? She?s very short?? she finally said, once Gilt had gotten out of earshot.

Reginald snorted. ?Aside from that. Perhaps I should rephrase the question. What kind of magic did she use? What class is she in??

As Gilt settled back onto the bench she?d been on previously, blending in with the other students and apprentices, Anja looked her class over. She?d been lucky to be pulled out of those classes as soon as she did; she didn?t get along with her fellow mage-candidates, and suffered from boredom in a classroom environment. Shaking the annoyed memories and thoughts from her head, after a brief prayer of thanks for being assigned to the Guild master himself as an apprentice, she finally noticed what he was implying.

?Alteration magic. Study the laws of physics, consider the necessary changes, and rewrite reality to suit your needs. But, she used air, didn?t she??

The tall Mage allowed himself a small genuine smile. As little as he enjoyed the main student body of his Guild, he did thoroughly enjoy teaching, especially in a Master-Apprentice relationship as they shared. Especially for Anja; she was shaping up to be a fine Mage.

?Gilt opened up a pocket of vacuum, after cleansing the air around the staff. She maintained this vacuum directly in front of the diamond; the only way air would be able to fill this vacuum was if the diamond went first. Because the diamond is in the exact center of the rings, and the surrounding air was moving past it to flow forward, it was pulling the rings inwards. Obviously a crystal ring won?t be reshaped by such simple air pressure, especially not with it pushing in such a fashion to strengthen the rings rigidity. Thus, she kept from disturbing the rings, or damaging them, while enough air pressure was generated to pop the diamond out of the bracket. Quite easily done, for her, seeing as how she doesn?t have direct elemental control like you seem to prefer.

?The lesson I want you to learn from Gilt here is subtlety. Of course, you could just take a bolt of magic and shoot it through the diamond; but think, how will the impact effect the staff? Will the diamond be completely destroyed, or will it shatter, like you?ve done so brilliantly thus far? Will you rock the staff so much that the rings crack up against it? There?s more to this exercise than just destroying the diamond, and that?s where your control comes in to play.
?You are lucky amongst the Magus. You can shape your magic however you wish, and you?re not restrained to one particular form or style. Gilt can only use Alteration magic; additionally, all she can do is twist open spaces. She cannot directly interact with anything that has a fair amount of mass, and liquids are tricky for her. But she knows how best to apply her skill. All you?ve done is shown off how much power you can push out. I want you to learn how to guide that power, and when to know that too much is too much.?

Reginald let out a contented sigh. ?Tomorrow, we?ll continue this again. I?d like you to think of a way to finish this test, without using Gilt?s trick.? He bowed his head slightly, and turned his back. ?For the greater good of mankind.?

By reflex, Anja answered back, ?I will let what has been taught be unlearned and open my mind anew.? The tall man began to stride away, having signaled the end of their lesson.

Anja scowled at the staff at the far end of the hall. Heaving a sigh, she relaxed and formed a smile. Waves of magic began to surround her body again.

Alteration, huh? she thought.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 05:53:51 AM
The next day, Reginald found her waiting in the hall where they had been practicing earlier. She was grinning easily with a mischievous glint to her eyes, but she wasn?t manifesting her magic. Such an attractive smile, made all the sweeter by the obviously present plots and plans hidden behind her eyes. He couldn?t wait to shape her into a fantastic replacement.

Before he could say anything, even to open up with their Cadence of Thought, she turned to face the staff at the far end of the range. The characteristic waves of magic focused into orbs around her hands, and she gestured easily at the staff. Rather than changing hue to indicate she was using elemental power, as she had last time she?d tried this test, the orbs remained translucent and colorless. This time, however, the fields flattened out forward, as though they were reaching for the staff, before vanishing shortly in front of the young Magus. Reginald turned his attention to the crystal diamond and rings.

There was a slight pop, and the diamond tumbled out of the staff easily, falling away from the rings without striking them. Before it hit the ground, it flashed brightly and dissolved into a fine dust, returning to the carbon powder it was prior to being pressed into a diamond.

Anja?s magic flashed out of existence with another burst of static, and she turned back to face Reginald.

?How was my performance??

Reginald smiled deeply. A fantastic replacement she would make indeed, such a quick learner.

?What did you do to the diamond??

?I turned it back into carbon. That was the state it was originally in, and it was pressed into a diamond unnaturally. While the method to form a diamond from carbon dust is perfect and precise, it doesn?t always work with nature. The diamonds we?ve been using here were all crushed into shape with brute force, no finesse or subtlety at all. So, working with that chain of logic, you realize it?ll be a simple matter indeed to convince it to return to its natural shape and form ? that is, carbon dust. Once it began to revert into dust again, it no long fit into the mount. A small tug with the magic pulls it free all the way, and as it fell I figured there was no reason to wait for it to dissolve slowly, so I sped the process up.
?I realized this could be done when I looked into the minds of the janitors; they knew how the crystals were pressed together and how to ??

?You looked into someone?s mind??

?Yes, well ??

?You looked into someone?s mind.?

Anja stopped and sputtered. After a moment of floundering, she found her courage again and threw into his face her reply.

?It was a resource open to me, and I used no trickery. I looked to nothing else in their minds and ??
?Minds??
?-it?s easy enough to do!?

Reginald set his shoulders and crossed his arms. ?Easy enough? Show me.?

Anja narrowed her eyes. ?Show you? On whom??

Reginald uncrossed his arms. ?Me. You have no permission to look into anyone else?s mind at the time being. I have plenty of training in guarding my mind; so don?t worry about embarrassing me. Come at me full-force, but be careful about it yourself.?

Be careful? I?ll be diving into an old man?s mind, what am I to worry about? Anja grinned and allowed her magic to begin twining around her hands. Allowing herself some genuine amusement at Reginald?s concern for her, her grin spread further across her face. The energy twisting around her hands snaked out and wrapped about the older man, terminating around his head.

Immediately, Anja?s mind was lit ablaze. A thunderous voice echoed throughout her mind; a brilliant torch of a presence, nothing at all like the bored minds of the janitors.

For just a split second she saw wondrous things; the joy of teaching, the aspect of power, the ability to make oneself worth something spectacular, the pride of being respected and in charge. But, instantaneously, these pleasant things were snatched away from her, almost violently, and she gasped at the reaction. Feelings of intense pain burst through her mind, lighting off explosions behind her eyes. She grabbed her head and cried out, desperately wishing the magic would cut off and free her from this torment. She was no longer smiling; she knew that for a fact. As such, since she wasn?t maintaining the condition for her magic, it should?ve stopped. But it didn?t, and the assault on her mind persisted.

A shining, ethereal man, standing tall and proud, shrouded in a suit of armor, which shone, but not as brilliantly or brightly as his skin did.

A woman, luscious long hair leading to her waist despite the beautiful curls it was wrapped in at the base of her neck, stood focusing on something else. Something besides her. Always something besides her.

A raging fire, burning, burning, burning, reducing everything to ash, burning everything else.

The armored fist of a strong man lifting her; everything was hot. Soon she was jostling away.

A booming voice cut into these visions. THERE ARE REASONS WE DO NOT ALLOW APPRENTICES TO LEARN HOW TO USE TELEPATHY, YOUNG WHELP. ONCE A DOOR IS OPENED, IT CAN BE TRAVELLED THROUGH IN EITHER DIRECTION! OPEN A PATH INTO SOMEONES MIND AND THEY CAN REDIRECT IT BACK TO YOU, DROWN YOU IN YOUR OWN FEARS!

You should be CAUTIOUS, Anja! Not foolish!
Suddenly the roaring cacophony of visions and hodgepodge blend of remembered sounds, voices, songs came to a deafening halt; she felt as though her ears were ringing, her skull was about to split.

Eyes widened with shock and glistening with tears, she failed to notice that in fact no time had passed since she?d opened a connection with Reginald?s mind, but her legs had started to go out on her. She was halfway through dropping to her knees when the visions stopped assaulting her, but in no shape to register it. Finally her hands clapped to her head, and she began to let out a wailing, unending scream. Students throughout the hall turned to look, and Reginald bowed over her as she collapsed fully on the ground.

With a wave of his hand to calm everyone down, he signaled that he was going to put Anja to sleep.
Despite her inability to realize this, she eagerly allowed the silent darkness to enshroud her mind.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 05:56:11 AM
She awoke with a start nearly two days later, tears still stinging her eyes. Surprisingly, Reginald was at the foot of her bed. Surely he didn?t have the time to lounge about waiting for her to recover?

?I wasn?t waiting, I?m the reason you?ve woken up. And try not to think of anything for the next minute or so, the current state you?re in you won?t be able to tell if you?re thinking or speaking.
?I?ll help you with that, as I?ll be doing the talking, and you'll be doing the listening. I should?ve realized you had your own ghosts of the past to deal with, having come to the Maging Guild as an orphan from a city block that was claimed in an incredibly persistent fire. That fact slipped from my mind, and I do apologize for it. All I?d intended to do was remind you of the past, not shove images of your loss on you.

?That is one of the dangers of telepathy; you never know how exactly your mind will react to an attack like that; until you?re better trained ? carefully, in a controlled fashion ? you?re better off keeping your mind shut to others. As a Magus you have a natural and constant ability to nullify slight attempts to probe your mind; no one will ever be able to just peek at your mind without you explicitly knowing exactly what they?re looking for.
?If you?d developed the Mentalist traits as you were growing, this would be easier to explain, and your ability to deal with the brain would be far more advanced than it is now; but, we don?t pick our birthrights, and there?s no point cursing something you have no control over. Instead, we?ll have to focus on training your Alteration aspects so you can familiarize yourself with telepathy more. But until then, I felt you?d had enough time in a deep sleep to calm down. For now, I want you to get some regular rest, and continue your studies as you normally do. We?ll put off the apprentice training for a few days, shall we??

Anja blinked softly, pushing a few remaining tears out of her eyes. As she tried to speak, she sobbed instead, suddenly finding herself surrounded by memories dredged up by the mental attack. Reginald in turn blinked in surprise.

?Ah, I do truly apologize. Perhaps, then,? he said, turning and slowly striding towards the door, ?we should put off the training for a full week.?

In her current mental state, Anja was terrified at the thought of being away from the one person she actually respected, and let out another sob, reaching for his retreating form. Reginald turned back at her cry and cast a furtive glance at her.

?Or? maybe, just for tonight, then. I do expect you to get some rest. I won?t be having my apprentice?s learning stopped up for a bad case of the sniffles, and I refuse to be disappointed by someone who shows so much potential.?

Anja smiled, and blinked against fresh tears. She dropped her hand back to her side and settled back against the pillow on her bed.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Seian Verian on November 28, 2010, 05:49:38 PM
This looks pretty nice, and I'm looking forward to seeing more :3
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 07:46:16 PM

Chapter 2


Sifarus let his pinky and thumb wiggle slightly, the reassuring weight of his medallion tugging at them. This was always fun, hypnotizing people.

He never did it for personal gain. The clever young man had a talent for earning peoples trust, and with his added gifts he found that putting people into a trance was no problem whatsoever. Hypnotism wasn?t far behind, so he crafted himself a special glove ? more of a gauntlet, really. The knuckles were spiked for the occasions in which he didn?t have time to hypnotize anyone he?d accidentally pissed off ? and this happened often, with his sarcastic tone and condescending nature ? he could deal out better than he got, usually. The underside of the gauntlet had a small recession in it, with a disc of magnetic metal laid into it. That magnet held his medallion out of the way, until he needed it for a hypnotism aid. By extending his pinky, thumb, and middle finger to their furthest limits and bending his wrist upwards, the chains attached to the rings on each finger would pull taut and tug it out of its recessed berth.

The medallion itself was special to him. The front was polished to a near perfect shine, reflecting light and images quite nicely. The backside of it, or rather the part that was held against the glove and never shined forward, still bore the gouge mark that had saved his life by a very slim margin.

Before he?d learned of Sithenth and made a pact with him, before he?d made his gauntlet and had a proper hypnotism amulet, he?d gotten into a scuffle with a rather sharp Magus. He managed to break out of the trance Sifarus had put him under and didn?t seem to take too kindly to being interrogated about his shady dealings with the local garrison staff, and began to channel his magic. Surprised, Sifarus barely had time to stumble back and grope for something to defend himself with. The only thing that presented itself to him was a pile of golden coins, decorative pieces with no markings or value. Grabbing a handful, he flung them at the Magus just as the other man let loose with his spell. The cloud of golden, shiny coins proved to be just reflective enough to catch the other man?s light magic and redirect it away from Sifarus enough so it couldn?t harm him. Before the first handful of coins had fallen to the ground, Sifarus flung forward one last coin with his other hand, and it caught another coin squarely in midair. The collision with that coin set off what he?d thought was an incredibly lucky chain reaction of ricochets whose end result was a knocked out Magus with a rapidly purpling bruise directly between his eyes.

He knew it wasn?t likely that he?d thrown that last coin accurately or strong enough to cause this to happen, but he?d managed to find the one he?d thrown by the large score mark on the side that?d smashed into the first coin. Pocketing that one, he?d made quick on his escape, deciding to leave the story of a corrupt Magus and Paladin uncovered for the time being. Later, after he?d made his pact with Sithenth, he?d learned through the trickster God that another God was amused at his efforts, and was in the area during his little scuffle. With his influence, the shower of coins had managed to save Sifarus from being wounded, or worse, caught. The helpful Gods? name was Liez?rial, and Sifarus had been greatly pleased when Sithenth was able to convince Liez?rial to appear before them.

Because of Liez?rial?s odd choice of appearance ? a suit of armor, rather than a flesh and blood human ? Sifarus had been motivated to make his medallion into a glove. To compare the smooth curves of the winged armor of Liez?rial to Sifarus? glove, however, one would never imagine that one was influenced by the other.

Despite that, though, the gauntlet was still incredibly useful. Sifarus kept it polished to a shine, a splendor bright enough to match his medallion. And, of course, the medallion got the most use, such as right now.

Striding past the drowsy doorman to the garrison, Sifarus led himself through the corridors unseen until he?d arrived at the Maging Guild. Anyone could, of course, walk right up to the Maging Guild and ask for an audience, training, or a favor from a mage, but that involved the common entrance, the one that wasn?t guarded by a garrison of Paladins and Knights. There was no fun whatsoever in walking up that way, and as an added bonus, when you took side entrances, no one expected you. It was easier to see what the state of things were when people thought no one would be coming around the corner, or inspecting their storerooms. Not having a mage escort him through the halls was a perk, too; they tended to steer you away from all the interesting things.

It also made it easier to pick up on peoples? thoughts with enough advance warning to hide before they came into sight.

I always wondered why you insisted on slinking about like a common thief.
The echoing voice belonged to Sithenth.

Begging your pardon, but I am an exceptionally skilled rogue. And tune it down with the dramatics, please; I know your voice doesn?t echo. It?s distracting while I?m down here.
Sithenth was bound to Sifarus in a pact; Sifarus provided direct power to Sithenth, rather than the slow trickle that the God got through his regular followers just worshipping him. Luckily, though, Sifarus managed to draft their contract with just the right wording and phrases that kept Sithenth from being able to drain him of any power beyond what Sifarus allowed, and still managed to give Sifarus near-complete control over Sithenth?s powers. As a sort of consideration to the God ? whom Sifarus greatly respected, being The Sly Bastard ? for being suckered into such a pact, Sifarus refrained from using any but the ability to Shift ? or, for lack of better term, teleport. Problem was he couldn?t Shift to places Sithenth had been; only to where he?d been since making the pact.

As such, he began to travel, and found himself here at the Maging Guild.

Liez?rial said the Inner Gods wanted you lot to do something about the Maging Guild, right? Something about there being corruption in the upper echelons of the Order of Seers?

Sithenth affected a mental sigh. Yes, I can confirm that. Why are you interested? You?re just a mortal human with a knack for sticking your nose where it doesn?t belong.

Sifarus grinned. I?m interested because this is something the Gods themselves are interested in. And if that?s the case, then I definitely want to know the story.

You and your stories. They?ll get you killed one day, and I?ll be all too happy to tell how.


Now the sly man choked back a chuckle. So you actually do like telling stories then? I knew I?d rub off on you.

No, just the story of your downfall. But, for the sake of the Inner Gods, I think in the meantime I?ll help you help us. Which means you?ll probably want to hide somewhere, because a very active Mentalist is headed this way and you?ll want to be somewhere dark, so your perception of vision doesn?t bleed into his mind.


Sifarus looked around. He hadn?t really been paying much attention to where he?d been going; he was just taking random turns and avoiding rooms with people in them.

Reaching out with his awareness, he probed through a few of the doors in this hallway. Many of the rooms were empty, but keeping Sithenth?s warning in mind, he ignored the ones with lights or windows. The few choices left to him were occupied with people either napping, or doing something that required less or no light.

Except for a storage closet.

Sifarus had to resist the urge to burst out laughing as he slid into the cramped room and pulled the door almost shut.

What?s so funny?
Sithenth asked.

It?s always a broom closet, isn?t it? In the stories and tales of the noble thieves, sneaking through castles to rob the corrupt. They always seem to be hiding in storage closets. I wonder if perhaps designers knew of our plight, and installed them at convenient locations?


Sifarus let his amusement dim down and he looked with extreme disinterest into the shadows of the closet. Nothing bright, nothing colorful, and focus on no one thing. Can?t be letting his eyes force his brain into enough activity that he?s detected. He allowed himself to fall partially into a trance, one of his own specialties.

Abruptly the door was pulled open behind him, and he blinked the foggy stupor away from his brain as quickly as he could.

?Who in the dark blazes are you?? The voice was stern, sharp, and definitely in no mood for jokes.

?Ah, sorry sir, was taking a break?? Sifarus mumbled, pulling his left hand up to rub at one of his eyes, affecting sleepiness.

?One of the janitors? Aah, no matter. Just don?t forget your? Tell me, what purpose does that have for janitorial duties?? The tall man indicated his golden gauntlet on his right hand.

?It doesn?t, sir. It?s a family heirloom, and it?s also quite handy in a scuffle. I spend my free time at the garrison, with the soldiers, sir. If you?d like I could fashion one for you??

The man tilted his head back slightly, looking down his nose at Sifarus. ?It looks as though it could be handy in a fight, yes, but also looks as though you?ve never used it. Either way, I have other means of defending myself. Continue on your duties, consider your break over.?

?Of course, sir.
??and, it?s because I take good care of it. Family heirloom and all that??

As the man strode away, robes waving lazily in the breeze he caused, he called back over his shoulder, ?Then perhaps you can put that same devotion into your work. I just came from the medical wards, and they?re looking shabby as hell!?

Sifarus allowed the man to turn the corner and continue on his way.

Very nice work. What are you doing now?

He?d turned his attention to one of the rooms with a sleeping student in it.

Getting directions. Guide me, young one, will you?
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 07:56:04 PM
After he?d followed the student through the Maging Guild in his dreams, he knew the way throughout the entire facility as well as any of the students. He strode with purpose now, as well as a bucket of water and a mop.

Just where are you going?
Sithenth asked.

I?m surprised you?re still tracking me. Normally by now, you?ve wandered off to go pester some lesser sneak. Sifarus looked about. He was in another one of many identical intersections in the Guild Halls, but if he?d kept count properly this was where he?d be turning? left? Right? Perhaps not as well as any of the older students, then.

To cover his confusion, he leaned on the mop and answered the God. I?m guessing you weren?t really paying attention, but that mans robes had the emblem of Guild Master on them. There?s usually only one of them per Guild Hall, but perhaps this one being so large can yield two Masters. Either way, he?d said he just came from the medical wards, so I figure that?s the best place to be. Why would a healthy Master be in the wards? And, he?s been there already, so the odds of him going back are slim. Less likely to run into him again. And even if he does show up, I have the mop and bucket. He told me to clean the wards, didn?t he?

Sithenth chuckled. Then you?ll be taking a left here. To Sifarus? eye, shadowy footprints formed on the floor, leading down the hallway to his left and wandering off till they terminated in front of a grand set of doors.

Why, thank you for your help, Sithenth. I appreciate it!

Only as long as you actually mop the wards while you?re there. There?s always a catch, young man.


Sifarus laughed heartily as he strode along, bucket and mop in-hand.



For a medical ward, it was actually rather clean. That man must hold everything to such high standards. I wonder how the staff is faring under him, Sifarus thought. Much to Sithenth?s dismay, the floors were nearly as reflective as the younger mans? medallion. Mopping would only make them streak.

However, there was something of interest to note. There was only one person occupying the beds, and none of the staff was around. The Guild Master had obviously been here to visit this lone charge.

Plotting a trajectory that would lead him beyond the bed, he cast a furtive glance at the figure lying in it.
Short, dusty blond hair crowned a face that was partially buried in a pillow, and beyond that there wasn?t much else he could make of the charge. Judging by the cut of the hair, though, he guessed that it was a young lady.

Shame she?s asleep, or unconscious. I?d like to ask her why a Master would stop by. Maybe something on the clerics? desk will be of help?

Trusting his uncanny luck to not be caught, at least till he found some clue that would help him, he began to prowl about through the files and papers lying on the top of the desk. Nothing in the loose papers. Sighing, he pulled the registry over. Much as I love stories, I absolutely hate dredging through books. So slow and inefficient.

Sithenth interrupted his dismay. You?re in luck, Idikus. They actually keep things organized in their registries, unlike some other people I know. The latest entry is obviously your little crush here in the bed. Sure enough, Sithenth was right. The closest entry, entered two days past, was preceded by roughly a week of no activity.

?Anja Stasz. Magus Apprentice, no Mentalist traits. Personal apprentice to Reginald Heighler, Guild Master. Details of injury; mental attack from mentor. No permanent damage, best proscribed treatment, rest.

?So, she?s here because he screwed with her head. That?s gotta be rough. If it?s been two days since she?s been brought in, I?m sure she can do a little chatting. I hear the Clerics at the Maging Guilds are top-notch, and for the Master?s own Apprentice, I doubt they?d spare any expense in bringing her back to par. I?d wager even that this Heighler character had a part in the healing; if he was the one who caused this mental attack, he can obviously go in and fix such damage. Especially if it?s his Apprentice.?

Sifarus clapped the large book shut and slid it back to where it was on the desk. ?Well, then, let?s get started with the interview, shall we?? Rising from the desk and looking towards Anja in her bed, he noticed with an incredibly guilty start that she was conscious. She was looking at him curiously, too.

Sifarus smiled brightly. ?Hiya! I?m Sifarus Idikus, traveling bard and storyteller. I understand some things have happened and you?re feeling kinda? well, I suppose a good way to describe it would be ?ugh?, am I right?
?Your name is Anja, right? How are you feeling?? Sifarus reached out with his mind, and probed softly at the young woman?s mind. As soon as he made contact, Anja flinched and yelped, pulling the blankets into a massive clump in front of her.

?Ah, still a bit tender, I see. I?m sorry. How about we just talk, then, instead of sing?? He moved over alongside her bed and sat on the mattress on the pallet opposite to hers. He sank quite a ways into the cushioning, and blinked with amusement at his own surprise.

?I am sorry, Miss Anja. Shall we talk?? he asked again. She was awake, and he wasn?t going to leave without being chased out or until he got a few questions in.

Anja slowly unfolded and relaxed in her bed. ?Yes, I?m Anja. What do you want??

Oh this is almost too easy. She?s in no shape to fight back, and she doesn?t want me here. She?s going to answer my questions quickly and easily to get me to go as soon as possible.


He leaned forward and rested his chin on his gauntleted hand, letting the spikes on the knuckles brush the tip of his lower lip. ?What exactly happened here? You?re the Master?s apprentice, so obviously you?re quite skilled with magic. I don?t think he?d deliberately harm you, unless he was? no, never mind. Shouldn?t go down that road, it?s not a pleasant one, is it? Still, the Master?s Apprentice. I am honored to have been asked in to help you recover.?

The girl settled herself in her bed, and glanced at his gauntleted fist resting on his knee. ?You look more like one of the Paladins in the garrison with that glove, than a healer. Those spikes don?t look friendly at all and I imagine you could stop a sword with the glove itself, provided the blow doesn?t break the bones in your hand. Should I be calling for an alarm, or perhaps should I knock you out so we can find out what you?re up to? Why isn?t anyone else here with you? Why didn?t Reginald mention you?d be coming??

First name basis? ?The Master Heighler only recently crossed paths with me, about ten minutes ago. He?d gone to the garrison, yes, which is where we?d met. He saw my gauntlet, as well, and asked about it and I explained what it?s really for. Observe,? Sifarus leaned back, sitting upright and lifting his hand. Stretching his fingers and pulling back with his wrist, the chains connecting the rings on his fingers and the medallion drew taut and tugged the coin away from the magnet.

?If you?ll allow me, hypnosis is a very effective form of calming the mind. Master Heighler told me what?d happened, and asked if I could stop by and see you. He?d like you to be back in action as soon as possible.?

Anja gazed at the foot of her bed and shifted slightly, watching the covers and blankets shift with the movements of her feet. ?Is he worried about me?? she asked.

?I couldn?t say. He pretty much told me to come up here and try my best on you, and well? you don?t exactly ignore a Guild Master, especially when you?re posted in the garrison designated as the front door to his Guild. So, here I am, at his beck and call.?

?That sounds familiar. Okay, then, if he sent you here, I suppose I?ll go along with it. What do I have to do for this hypnosis?? Anja sighed and fell back against her stack of pillows.

Sifarus withdrew, having placed the pillow from his bed atop hers while she was sitting upright.

?First, get comfortable. Anything I can do for you here to make it more pleasant? Open a window, perhaps, dim the lighting?? He stood and folded one arm across his waist, bending slightly over it while sweeping the other hand to indicate the room in general.

?No. Just hurry. I want to get back to my lessons with Reginald as soon as possible,? Anja was staring across the room now without focus.

Sifarus smiled slightly to himself. Again with the first name. I?ll have to ask about that.

?Alright. I?m going to have to make contact with your mind; otherwise this will take a very long time. I?ll need you to look here at my medallion, as well, just follow its movement with your eyes. I know you?re still a bit tender about the whole mental attack thing, but that?s what I?m here for,? Sifarus stepped to the foot of her bed, but remained beside it.

Anja settled down and made herself comfortable, smoothing out the disturbed blankets from her spasms. She cast a furtive glance at the odd young man, and felt her cheeks flush. The gloved hand was so familiar, it seemed; as though that were the one she?d seen when she was suffering from Reginald?s attack.

?The medallion, dear, not me. Just follow its movements, and let me work my magic. Don?t be alarmed if you feel me touch your mind, it?s just to help you fall into the trance.?

Anja watched the medallion, bored. Left, right, left, right, left, right, swinging back and forth. Her eyelids drooped down, and her eyes shot out of focus almost immediately.

Wow, that really was easy.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 08:11:16 PM
Unfortunately for Sifarus, Anja knew nothing about the supposed corruption of the Maging Guilds. He began to ply about for more questions, probing the limits of her knowledge. Remembering her referral to her Master by his first name, he leaned forward and asked her about him directly and their relationship.

?? I love you,? she said, haltingly.

Sifarus blinked. ?Reginald Heighler??

?You. For saving me. The fires??

Sifarus stood completely upright, and flicked his wrist so the medallion jumped back into the magnetic slot. His magic and telepathy would keep her hypnotized for now.

I?ve never saved anyone but myself, especially not around any fires. What is she on about?

?When?? he asked her.

?So long ago, just a child. The burning fires, they burned everything else. Such a cleansing, it got out of control. The gloved hand, it pulled me free and carried me to safety. I love you for that.?

Sifarus grinned. Not what I came for, but an interesting story. I wonder how much more there is to it? What do you think, Sithenth?

?What the hell are you doing here? You?re obviously not cleaning.?

Sifarus whirled about at the voice. Standing in the doorway was Reginald Heighler, Guild Master, Pissed-off Mentor.

?Ah! Master. With the tools I?d brought, I wouldn?t have been able to get it any cleaner than it already is. I sat down in the chair there by the desk to wake up the rest of the way, and I noticed Miss Anja here was awake. I started talking to her, and she asked me about this ? my family heirloom and glove, sir. I explained what else it could be used for, besides giving someone a rough bruise. I can use it as a hypnosis aid, you see, from the coin here on the bottom. It comes loose and works wonders!
?I offered to try it on her to see if I could help her heal, and she agreed.?

Unfortunately, Anja was still under the hypnosis and responded to Sifarus? voice.

?Reginald sent you to help me. From the garrison.?

Dammit! I should?ve shoved her back into a trance!

?No, I didn?t. What are you trying at, young man? Who are you, really?? Reginald narrowed his eyes, pouring his full focus onto Sifarus.

?Ah, for shame. Caught out at last. I am Sifarus Idikus, traveling story-teller, bard, and psychologist.?

?Psychologist? No, you?re not. You?re talking to a Maging Guild Master; we don?t get these posts just because we can make fancy lights and find lost flocks of animals. Rather, only the best Mentalists with the greatest Magus abilities are appointed to the post of Master; and as an added bonus, I can tell when you?re lying, such as your psychologist bit. Now, don?t try to talk your way out of this unless it?s the truth, Mr. Idikus. I?ve half a mind to burn you where you stand for your blatant lies about where you?re from. Obviously not a proper janitor here, not even sure why I didn?t notice your lack of robes,? Heighler held one hand halfway up.

?Now, then, why are you here?? he asked.

?I?m a bard. I want stories.?

?And what sort of stories were you hoping to find here??

Dammit again! I was hoping he wasn?t going ask such a direct question. Sharp tongue, don?t fail me now?

?Ones about you, from the upper echelon of the Maging Guild. Tales of what you and your kin do.?

?You?re talented at twisting the truth, I see. I?m afraid I can?t have someone like you snooping around, though,? Reginald raised his hand up the rest of the way. A thin ring formed about his wrist.

?Wait! If you harm me now, Anja will have trouble coming out of the hypnotism trance. At the very least, allow me to release her. She has nothing to do with this, and I?m sure you don?t want to lose your Apprentice??

Sifarus uttered a silent prayer of thanks to the Gods when Anja replied to that, as he?d been hoping. It caught Reginald?s attention when she said, ?I trust you, Sifarus. I love you.?

?What? Just who the hell ARE you?!? Reginald glared back at Sifarus, but the younger man had dove to the side and tumbled behind one of the beds. The ring surrounding his wrist flashed, and the wall behind where Sifarus had been standing cracked violently, sending a plume of dust into the air.

?Can?t be having that, now can we??

Sifarus blinked. That was Sithenth! He looked under the bed. Sure enough, the shining boots of the Outer God were directly behind the shrouded shoes of the raging Master. Judging by his position, Reginald had whirled around, meaning it was safe for him to pop his head up now.

The towering God was resplendent in his flowing clothes, his over-long epaulets, half-cape, and his dome helmet, covering his eyes but leaving his grinning mouth visible. He held Reginald?s ringed arm aimed away from anyone in the room with one of his own long arms. Sithenth himself towered over the other man, at nearly seven feet and five inches. Reginald was clearly caught completely off-guard. Master Magus or not, you certainly didn?t fight with a God when they had their guard up.

I have an idea, Sithenth. Don?t take him anywhere yet until I act!

Of course.
Sithenth nodded, still grinning insanely at Reginald.

Sifarus let his magic hold on Anja?s mind unravel, and he maintained contact with her mentally just long enough to tell her to remain silent. I?ll find out for you what he thinks of you.

?Come, now, Reginald! Attacking me, before I can release your Apprentice? I told you that she had nothing to do with this, and if you?d actually managed to kill me, she?d be rendered vegetative. Is that what you want for her? Because if it is, I can arrange it!?

Reginald snarled, clenching his teeth and glaring at Sithenth. The thin glowing ring around his wrist disappeared without any fanfare, and he twisted in Sithenth?s grip.

?She?s just an Apprentice, one with a weak mind and a poor constitution. I can easily replace her. Just as we can always replace you!? He lashed out with his other arm, and the ring reappeared around that wrist. Sithenth?s smile dropped immediately, and the two of them vanished before Reginald could use his magic.

Sifarus slowly stood up from behind the bed he was crouched behind. Anja was still lying in her bed, eyes still unfocused. I released her from the trance, though. Why is she??

?Reginald? you bastard.?

Ah. So that?s what her problem is.


?Miss Anja, I think for you, whatever you?re planning now against Heighler, you?d be better off acting like I didn?t release you from the trance when I did, that you didn?t hear him say that. It?ll also be better if you claim you only remember me coming in here and using my hypnosis on you. Let him think that you can?t recall anything that we discussed while you were under hypnosis; and don?t worry about being caught in a lie; you?ll find you actually don?t recall what we talked about. I did, however, do my best to help you heal from your mental attack by? that man.

?You could still use some rest, though. And I think I should leave, before he finds a way to return. Farewell, my lovely Lady Anja,? he said, bowing with an overly dramatic flourish. As he straightened up, he wore the most endearing smile he could conjure up, and winked at her. He was as amused by her reaction as she was confused by it - a brilliant flush of blood warming her cheeks.

?What are you ?? she started to ask, but by then Sifarus had Shifted.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 08:15:19 PM
He found himself observing a foyer in a Shrine to the Outer Gods. No one was in the immediate area, and he was in no danger of coming out into a new pillar or statue, so he stepped out of the very strange realm of existence and into the regular world. The open-air chamber allowed a pleasantly warm breeze to blow through, and Sifarus made his way to one of the walkways surrounding the foyer. This particular shrine was familiar to him, and he began to recognize it as he examined the scrollwork in the handrails along the covered walkway.

Ah, yes, the Shrine where I met Liez?rial, and also where I made my pact with Sithenth. Wonder why I ended up here, I was just looking to leave.

Sithenth?s echoing voice filled his mind once more. I?m going to either need you to start preaching the wonders of Sithenth, or allow me to siphon some power from you. The both of us Shifting at once is a bit of a drain on me, as well as when I crafted my appearance. I?m a bit weak now, and if you want my guidance or power, I need some of yours for now.

?Very well, Sithenth. You can take some, provided you know it?s safe enough for me to rest here.?

Another voice answered behind him, ?It?s safe enough, since you?re a follower of Sithenth. This is a Shrine to the Outer Gods, so if you need a bed, I can arrange it for you.?

Sifarus turned around easily. ?That?d be nice, then. I?m a pact-maker with Sithenth, but I put a clause in our contract that prohibits him from taking whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Very handy, if I do say so myself.?

?Lucky, you.? The Cleric standing before him was wearing an auburn robe with an emblazoned tabard. The simple logo on it was of the three moons, each staggered in rising order towards his chest. The one in the middle had a ring of stars around it, signifying that the Cleric was indeed a Cleric ? practitioner of holy magics, cleanser of souls. Sifarus smiled and extended his hand.

?Sifarus Idikus, pleasure the meet you.? He held the hand out ? the gauntleted one, of course ? while the Cleric inspected it.

?Ian McAre. That?s a very interesting glove you have there - may I ask what it?s for?? the cleric finally reached out and clasped his hand.

With a quick glow and a faint pop, the medallion fell from its slot.

?Ah, that makes things easier to explain. This medallion here is for hypnotism. I also had the foresight to get Sithenth to enchant it for me; whenever a Cleric touches it, the medallion drops free of its magnet. Good way to tell real Clerics apart from people who claim to be Clerics,? Sifarus smiled widely at the man. McAre blinked at it.

?What use would it be to identify Clerics? Do you have a lot of dealings with us??

Sifarus shook his head. ?No, but if you knew the type of people I typically associate with, you?d understand that not everyone is who they say they are. Someone introduces themselves as a Cleric; I shake their hand, and get a different reaction ? obviously not a Cleric. It?s better to know for sure if someone is a Cleric than to know if they?re an Elementalist or Alter Magus ? if it?s safe to let my guard down, if I can afford to get myself injured.?

?And is it necessary to cover your entire forearm in a glove just to hypnotize people? I highly doubt the spikes on the knuckles are therapeutic.
??Nonetheless, come with me. I have open beds this way,? he said, turning about and heading towards a doorway that lead out of the foyer.

It was a short matter of time before McAre had a room for him, and Sifarus thanked him earnestly as the older Cleric left him. The shrine was more of a monastery, with several wings to it. Some were just grand, ornate halls, dedicated to statues of the Outer Gods and placards describing their deeds and extolling their wisdom. There were two libraries as well as two kitchens, and four total wings of rooms. Each wing only housed four rooms each, but they all surrounded the central foyer that he?d Shifted into. Each wing had a second floor to it; the four halls of rooms were opposite each other, stacked one atop the other, and the libraries and kitchens were atop their copies as well. An encompassing ring surrounded the four wings, and this was where the collection of statues and artifacts were kept.

Sifarus dumped himself with a great lack of ceremony onto his pallet and squirmed about for a moment before getting comfortable.

Well? Sithenth was in no danger, but he wasn?t exactly known as The God of Patience. The mortal man grinned.

?I hereby allow permission to extract required faith-mana from my being to be used by the God Sithenth. Permission expires in ten hours; limit is set to stop before I become fatigued beyond the ability to defend myself. Any cessation in siphoning will awaken me and nullify permission. Cessation will restore a small percentage of power to myself to hasten the waking process and bring me to full alert mentality.
?Good night, Sithenth. There?re stories out there waiting to be found, and I hope you?re as eager as I am to find them.? He relaxed back and pulled the pillow across his face.

About as eager to do that as you would be to cuddle with a cactus. But, as long as your goals are parallel with mine, I?ll humor you. I won?t let you sleep too long, so enjoy your dreams.
Whatever they may be.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 28, 2010, 08:20:54 PM
Chapter 3


Lucas leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms over his head, feigning a yawn. He?d just put McAre into a very sticky situation in the chess game the two were playing. Granted, it?d taken him a better part of the day to be able to trick the wily old Cleric into screwing up enough that he could exploit it, but through cleverly placed conversation and positioning of his own pieces he?d pulled it off.

?I can only thank the Gods that we aren?t actually betting on these little games,? McAre sighed as he realized his situation. He scanned over the board with a defeated look on his face, desperately searching for some way to squeeze out of the younger mans trap. ?You?ve much improved since the first time we played.?

The younger man smiled. ?I?ve been learning.? It was the truth, after all. The first time he?d brought the idea up, McAre explained how much experience he?d had with it asked if Lucas wanted him to go easy on the boy. Lucas declined and was handily defeated before he had a chance to move all of his pieces. This time, however, he?d figured out a defense against the master?s opening strategy, and saved himself from a quick defeat and was able to prolong the game enough that McAre had to improvise. This was, obviously, not McAre?s strong point.

Finally McAre made his move. It was the same as Lucas? earlier moves; a delaying tactic, more for making sure his next move couldn?t capture any more pieces. Lucas leaned forward to observe the boards? new layout, but a small bell attached to the Cleric?s wrist gave off a jingle.

?Ah, I have another visitor. Not counting you, it?s been about four days since my last one, and before him, nearly three months. I worry that perhaps this monastery is too far out of the way to afford the Gods any followers. Would you care to accompany me to greet our guest?? he offered as he rose from his chair. Lucas considered the board one last time, committing it as well as he could to memory. What McAre hadn?t noticed about it was that he?d left his most powerful piece open to an attack from behind, provided he didn?t spot it within a few turns. He smiled, and rose from the table as well.

?It?ll do me some good to mull over this new turn of events in our little game. Of course, I?ll join you. No need to bother any of the other ascetics.
?By the way, isn?t the entrance in the other direction?? Lucas gestured behind them, where, in fact, the primary entrance to the monastery was. It was facing towards the main road that bisected the vast stretch of plain lands the shrine sat on; despite this, though, it was still a small walk from the road and the country path itself was rarely used. As McAre had said, this way was the one less traveled, and not many people stopped by to actually worship the Outer Gods, as Lucas did. Most often, they just stopped in for rest and a room.

?Yes, the entrance is that way. But our guest is this way, in the central foyer. It seems to be a trend, nowadays, to enter through our courtyard. My last guest did the same thing; he was a pact-maker to Sithenth. Had a very interesting glove, and had all sorts of stories to tell. Seems he is rather keen on the God, Liez?rial. Something about helping to save him from a bit of trouble.?

The Cleric strode along at a decent pace, but didn?t have an air of haste about him. His long legs carried him faster than Lucas walked, but it took little effort to match his pace regardless.

?So, you?ve gotten many visitors in the courtyard?? he asked. McAre grinned.

?One, or two. Like I said, it?s something of a trend, compared to how many visitors I normally get.?

?And how do you know when they?ve come in from the courtyard??

The Cleric held up the bracelet with the bell on it. The small globe was tugging incessantly in one direction, pointing ahead to the end of the hallway where the courtyard was. As he flexed his wrist around, the bell constantly reoriented itself to lunge in the same direction.

?Since I?m the senior cleric of the monastery, I?m alerted first. If I?m unable to deal with the new arrival, busy doing something else or the like, I can simply pinch the bell and it?ll alert the next of the staff. It keeps going down that chain until it comes back to me, or the guests have let themselves in. The bells were made to do this since long before I moved into this shrine, so I don?t know the specifics. I know the tumbler inside the globe is a crystal, so that may be what?s been tinkered with to cause this affect.?

Lucas snickered. ?You can pinch the bell, and it alerts the next cleric by itself? You don?t have to use your own magic, or find a way to unlock your condition?? He was barely holding back a choked snort of laughter.

McAre sighed, defeated. ?Hush, you. There?ll be no talk of that sort around the guest, and especially not from someone such as yourself.?

Like all Mages, McAre had a condition he had to meet before he could use his magic. Many of these conditions were unique to each mage; some had similar conditions, such as incanting some form of gibberish or another, or waving a hand at whatever you were going to be affecting. Others involved putting the body into a certain condition, such as smiling, raising one arm, holding a fist in front of your body, or bowing at the waist.

Ian McAre was a Clerical Magus; his magic was based in purifying the body, cleansing the soul, and manipulating spiritual ailments. Minor wounds would seal themselves shut at his action. Any Clerical Magus could do the same sort of magic, but the extent to which they could heal was affected by their own unique power and faith. McAre could fix bruises and cuts and cure very light internal bleeding without actually unlocking his condition. Other Clerics could do more or less, again all determined by their own willpower and desire to do good.

Then again, most other Clerics were luckier than McAre, and didn?t have to be sexually aroused in order to unlock their magic. Being a Cleric, of course, meant that he had to maintain his body and soul and the purity of each; the easiest way to do this was to remain a virgin. He took this rather unfortunate setup with good humor, as did the other ascetics in the monastery. Many of the female monks had simple summer dresses that left little to the imagination that they would take turns wearing, should they need to unlock McAre?s full power. Despite his rather limiting condition, he was in fact the most powerful Cleric Magus within two-days travel. As such, the Monastery as a whole decided it would be a necessary evil to allow one of the ladies of the cloth to wear a little less cloth. Typically, that one priestess would tend the second-floor library, where few visitors tended to wander into on their own initiative. It was a necessary evil, but they still wouldn?t throw out their modesty or humility.

Lucas, of course, being a devout worshipper of the Outer Gods, frequented the libraries in the Shrine, and though he normally was able to find the texts he needed in the first floor library, there came a time when he?d needed one in the second floor library. Forgetting about the ladies? ritual, one of the male monks sent Lucas there to look for the book himself. The young man was a regular sight at the monastery, and nearly all the ascetics knew him by sight and name.

Lucas was, of course, considerably surprised when he came into a holy library being staffed by a nun wearing what could only be described as a gravity-defying and incredibly improbable strip of cloth, with a completely exposed midriff. Embarrassed enough for the both of them, Lucas hurried through the library until he found the books he?d needed and rushed out, only to run into the very monk who?d sent him there in the first place. It was then that the situation was described to Lucas, and he found himself in on the small inside-joke for shrine.

The courtyard doors ahead of them swung open on their own accord, it seemed, until the young man realized he wasn?t seeing a statue through the doorway but rather a very tall suit of armor.

It also took Lucas a good ten seconds to register the fact that the armor was in fact inhabited, and there were wings all over it that moved on their own inclination. There was one wing on each ankle, wrist, and on either side of the top of the helm, each one surely too small to lift such a tall man by themselves. The much larger wings on the back of the torso supported them, but these were folded flat against his back and weren?t moving. A fine strand of some material draped from his either of his wrists before looping back up behind his arms. Judging by the way they were swaying and dangling, they probably terminated around his shoulder blades. The armor itself was nothing spectacular, no emblems or sharp angles to show off superior metalwork. The chest-plate was just a rounded, smooth surface, formed from two pieces, with the separation at the base of the ribcage to provide flexibility to the wearer. The helmet, though, was the most interesting piece; an ornate globe that?s been cut into, framing the man?s face inside. Going from the bridge of his nose to his chest was some dark material that covered the majority of his face, disguising many clues to his actual identity while still leaving his eyes unhindered. The wings on the helmet had stopped moving and folded themselves down flat against the helm itself, resting neatly and sitting motionless. If Lucas hadn?t seen them fold down on their own, he would?ve sworn they were decorative. The wings on the gauntlets of the armor had folded back against the forearms, but the wings based on the greaves of the suit were still fanned out. Despite their proximity to the ground ? excellent source of dust and grime ? the white feathers were stainless, pure whiteness against the dusty brown of the floor. The entire suit of armor was colored with platinum hued silver, smooth and spotless as the wings that adorned it.

McAre turned his head halfway; he kept his eyes focused on the avatar, and said over his shoulder at Lucas, ?Behold, Liez?rial. Open your mind and you?ll detect nothing else but his splendor, Lucas. That?s the presence of the God?s.
?Welcome to the Shrine, Liez?rial. Are you one with the pactio, or are you still separate?? McAre bowed slightly, and looked into the helmet and found the mans eyes.

Instead of returning the stare, the man in the armor was focused on Lucas. Upon hearing the name Liez?rial, he had knelt to one knee and bowed his head, placing his palm over his heart.

?No, Cleric, Liez?rial and I are still separate. I am however, casting away my identity. Refer to me as Graf, please.
?Boy, please rise. As long as you yourself worship Liez?rial, you don?t need to prostrate yourself or any such silliness. Your intentions are all he needs.? The man?s voice was deep, and husky, as though he hadn?t spoken in a long while.

?Very well, Graf. Is there anything you need from us? Food, rest, medical aid?? McAre stepped aside and motioned for Lucas to do the same. Graf settled his shoulders and strode through the door, ducking slightly so the doorway and the wings on his armor didn?t meet.

McAre didn?t push, and Lucas remained verbally silent, but mulled things over in the sanctity of his own head. So, Liez?rial and Graf aren?t the same. I can easily sense the splendor of Liez?rial, that brilliant glow. So who is Graf, where did he come from? He?s not a God, which is apparent. Is Liez?rial able to communicate? Is he actually here, physically, or is he just spiritually here? I should?ve studied the Liez?rial statues and read up on him? I have to meet with him, see if Graf will allow me to talk to him. And speaking of, who is Graf? To think, actually meeting a God! I may not be physically in his presence, but I?m basking in his glow. That?s for sure. Mother, Father, you?ll be proud of my devotion when I tell you about this.

Graf sighed, and turned back to face McAre. ?I?ve been traveling about for quite some time, I do believe some rest will do me good. If it?s not too imposing, I?d like to stay for a while, perhaps a full week. Is this acceptable??

McAre laughed. ?Not a problem at all, provided you?re willing to take the swords off while you try to sleep. The beds won?t handle blades or chains very well.?

The Cleric indicated the back of the armor for Lucas? benefit. The largest wings were still folded down flat on his back, but underneath them he saw a set of crossing swords. The blades were very large; Lucas guessed each one was closer to five feet long than not. As Graf walked, the chains that hung from his wrists swung lazily about and Lucas saw that they came up behind his arms and terminated between his shoulders and the joint where the wings connected?

Well, this is interesting. The wings didn?t actually connect to the armor. Instead, they were attached to the hilts of the swords, which holstered on the back of the armor and aimed down, presenting the wing-joints skyward. Lucas pondered that for a moment; fighting with the swords must be tricky. Wings, martingales, and roughly five feet long. And, there were two; swords that long were rarely held in one hand, much less even two at a time. Either Graf was an exceptional fighter, or he wore them just for deterrence.

The tall armored man had begun to stride off down the corridor, McAre following behind at an unobtrusive distance. The two were discussing what sort of foods would be prepared there for the near future, and Graf was offering forth various recipes and seasonings for dishes and herbs that he?d picked up along his travels. The ability to fly about as one saw fit allowed the man to travel faster and farther than most trade routes followed, picking up new trends and flavors and passing them on before they went out of style, or the next region picked them up.

Lucas wandered along slowly. The burden of relying on a God must be tremendous. He?d read all about pact makers with Gods; people who so worshipped them that they were willing to let the Gods siphon their life out of them. Some pactios were so willing to help their Gods that they?d allow them to completely drain them on the spot; most Gods didn?t do this, instead taking only a small amount and letting their subjects recover. Lucas thought this was a bit cruel; someone so devout, so pious, they were willing to give their entire life to their God, just to be fed upon repeatedly. Wouldn?t it be better for the pactio to just be snuffed out for the service of their God, instead of tortured? It was probably a preference to the pactios, and they most likely discussed it with their pact-God. Pactios had direct contact with the Gods, of course. He wondered if it would be reasonable to form a contract with a God.

Well? how do you contact a God?
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Kasu on November 28, 2010, 11:27:08 PM
I have to admit that I'm really enjoying what you've posted so far of this.

Hope there's more to come. :3
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 29, 2010, 02:56:53 AM
I have to admit that I'm really enjoying what you've posted so far of this.

Hope there's more to come. :3

That leaves off on page 23 of 127. Pleeeeeenty more. Pausing for now to give people the opportunity to catch up.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Kasu on November 29, 2010, 09:53:35 PM
That leaves off on page 23 of 127. Pleeeeeenty more. Pausing for now to give people the opportunity to catch up.
Excellent.

Also Sifarus is awesome.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 29, 2010, 11:26:54 PM
Also Sifarus is awesome.
If I could ever get this made into a movie, I'd have Ryan Doyle (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Op6ONzR2pec) play Sifarus because of how aloof and laid-back he looks, in addition to his parkour and freerunning skills being handy for Sifarus' character.



A week and a half later, Lucas was surprised to see that Graf was still at the shrine. It wasn?t odd, he supposed, since the monastery really was a quaint place, and very comfortable. Despite its lack of traffic, it was in a prime location. The weather was typically dry, and the skies remained calm for a better part of the year. Perhaps Graf decided that this place was preferable to flying off to some place that was potentially sitting under thunderheads. It must not be pleasant to fly through a storm, especially wearing a suit of armor.

He encountered the taller man in one of the outer halls, examining a large statue of Lozenreald, the Inner Goddess of the Air. A generation ago, she had been almost completely stripped of her powers, because she had to purge a great many of her followers; they had become the Zealots of the Air, others called them, and were interpreting Lozenreald?s commands to their own fashions. She called on the aid of another Inner God, one by the name of Aubernat, God of the Sanctuary, to use his followers to stop her Zealots before they caused lasting damage to Kaetir. A Gods power is directly related to how much their followers worship them; Inner Gods were generally accepted as the most powerful, since their followers numbered into the high hundred thousands. Even so, however, the Inner Gods refused to directly kill any humans, either from high moral ground or some other reason they didn?t reveal, Lucas didn?t know.

However, without Lozenreald supporting the Zealots of the Air, and Aubernat directly lending his aid to his Paladins, the Cleansing of the Air Campaign was brutally short. Lozenreald was suddenly without her own followers, and despite Aubernat?s Paladins preaching her scriptures and worshipping her in the Zealots? stead, she was still considerably weakened. Few humans have since seen her on Kaetir.

?Liez?rial suggested I helped with the Cleansing of the Air. I was half a continent away from the Zealot?s central concentration of followers, but I went anyways. Had nothing better to do where I was, and being in a pact to a God makes you more receptive to their plans and wishes.
?I fought alongside some of the top Paladins of Aubernat, and with his aid and Liez?rial, the Zealots fell swiftly to our blades. That was one of my first actual skirmishes; I was a soldier before I came into Liez?rial?s possession, but I?d never actually fought in a full-scale war. One of those Paladins, a man by the name of Oberos, fought with a small dagger. Said Aubernat gave it to him, and it was a gift to Aubernat from Lozenreald herself. His commander passed it down to him, because he used a big monster of a sword, while Oberos used a shield and a smaller sword. Lozenreald?s dagger was supposed to be able to pierce armor easier than most swords or hammers could. The Azure Cinquedea, I believe it was called.
?I also believe it was stored here. I?d like to see it, I fought alongside Oberos for a greater part of the Campaign.?

Lucas absorbed everything Graf had expunged, not really registering that he had made a request of him until the man looked over his shoulder down at Lucas. The dark fabric that covered his face when Lucas had first met him was gone, and he was grinning back at younger man.

?I?m sorry, didn?t mean to go on about old history. Probably bored you, didn?t I?? Graf chuckled and started to turn back, but Lucas snapped out of his haze and offered up his own batch of information.

?Not at all, sir. The Paladins of Aubernat only numbered around forty thousand, maybe close to forty-five. The Zealots of the Air were an entire nation, numbering eight hundred and ninety-three thousand, four hundred and eighty-seven fighters and one hundred thirty-three preachers. The Paladins only suffered forty-one losses, while every Zealot was put to death for refusing to reform and reject their own writings of Lozenreald. The support rendered by Liez?rial has been documented, but no one ever managed to put your name to the texts. You only supported the First Battalion of Aubernat?s Paladins, only rarely supporting the Second and Third Battalions. Not to make you feel guilty or anything, but your lack of support for the Third Battalion is what resulted in the forty-one deaths. Just the sheer appearance of Liez?rial?s armor would?ve been enough to turn the tide for those skirmishes.

?But, yes, in answer to your question, the Azure Cinquedea is in fact stored here in this Shrine. If I?m not mistaken, it?s just a little further through these halls. Come, we?ll take a look. I know the way,? Lucas answered, and turned back around and strode off through the halls.

Graf blinked and straightened up, turning and following behind Lucas as he strode away, allowing a smile to spread across his face slowly.



Lucas? shoulders sagged, and he grunted in confusion. Graf looked around from behind him. ?What?s wrong?? he asked.

Lucas stepped aside and let Graf examine the display stand that the Azure Cinquedea sat upon.
Or rather, the display stand with a placard on it that read, ?Removed for Cleaning?.

Lucas reached forward and tilted the display about, not entirely sure why himself, but with nervous energy in him regardless. ?The dagger is gone, being cleaned for something. I could ??

Lucas let out a single grunt and collapsed almost instantly as Graf slammed his gloved wrist alongside the younger man?s head.

?Dammit! I?ve been tracking that dagger for entirely too long, and I won?t have it hidden away from me by some bored old monks! By the Gods!? he cursed, striding away from Lucas? limp body, collapsed at the base of the empty display stand.



Lucas was unconscious for only a short amount of time, hardly ten minutes. If Graf had been thinking clearly, he would?ve realized that it was most likely a bad idea to leave an unconscious body lying around a monastery full of Clerics.

Lucas awoke without even a sore neck when the monk that found him finished fixing his concussion.

?Lucas, what happened? Who attacked you??

The younger man grunted and sat up, rubbing at the side of his head. It wasn?t sore, or even bruised; the Clerics? magic took care of that. However, he couldn?t heal the sting of the memory, the shock of betrayal. Granted, Lucas had only known the man for about three or four days out of the week and a half that he?d been there, he thought that an avatar to a God would be peaceful and kind.

?It was Graf, the man with Liez?rial. He claimed he wanted to see the Azure Cinquedea. Is it still gone?? he asked, climbing to his feet and tugging at his shirt to straighten it out.

The monk stood back, allowed him some space to orient himself, and pulled a long dagger from his robes, still in its sheath, connected by an ornate chain. ?It is here, with me. It honestly was removed for cleaning, these sorts of things have a rather nasty habit of attracting dust, godly enchants or not. Why do you think he was interested in this??

Lucas looked over the dagger. It was a familiar sight to him; he?d never really put much focus to it, but he?s seen it many times in these halls, and the monks have even allowed him to un-sheath it and give it a few swings. For a dagger, it was fairly long, but it was also perfectly balanced. He reached a hand out, asking permission for the dagger, and the monk handed it over to him.

?He?s wearing armor crafted, and perhaps inhabited by a God. What sort of havoc do you think could be wrought with a dagger crafted by a God being used by someone with access to the powers of a God? I?m sure it wouldn?t take on an army of mages, but against mundane people, or those with non-combat powers, it would be devastating.

?There is, of course, the chance that he?s just got a short temper and lashed out against me, and just really wants to look at the dagger that he fought alongside of in the Cleansing of the Air campaign. Is there a way you can get in contact with the other monks, or McAre, without actually being physically in front of them?? he asked.

The monk nodded, and thrust his right hand free of his sleeves, turning his wrist over and pinching at the bell strapped to it. It tugged in one direction and stayed there, pulling constantly towards the west wing library. ?This leads to McAre. He should be in the library, on the first floor.?

Good, the lady cleric in the second floor library is only a few moments away if we need his magic unlocked. Lucas began striding off, but the monk called after him, ?Lucas, I?m only a Cleric. I don?t have any mentalist abilities, so I can?t sense where Graf and Liez?rial went. I recommend you keep your mind open for them; if he DOES have hostile intent on his mind, he won?t be pleased to see you up and about so soon.?

Lucas nodded his thanks to the monk and did as suggested.

The brilliance of Liez?rial opened up in his mind, an amazing burst of warm light bathing his mind.

Square in the library.

Brilliant.



Bum bumm BUUUUUUUUUUUM
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 30, 2010, 12:05:10 AM
Believe it or not, I have no physical description of Lucas. He's a blank-slate character, meant to be the apparent main character of the story, and as such the reader would come up with their own image of him.
There is no 'real' main character - it's mostly about the group of people and their interactions therein. The main group hasn't been fully introduced yet.



McAre jumped slightly as Graf slammed his fist onto the desk.

?The Azure Cinquedea. Where is it?? the armored man asked.

?And why do you want it?? McAre asked, trusting the width of the desk to protect him from any direct attacks by the man, relieved that the iconic swords of the Liez?rial armor were still sheathed. If McAre could?ve opened his mind, he would?ve been able to probe Liez?rial himself, find out the intent of the God, or at least ask. Unfortunately, being a Magus didn?t automatically grant one Mentalist traits, and the reverse was also true; not all Mentalists were Magus.

?Do I really need to explain myself? Nothing I say, you would believe. Perhaps the soldier that used it in the Cleansing of the Air campaign is dying and wishes to return the dagger to Aubernat. Perhaps he just wants it back. Maybe I want it as an artifact to the war. Take your pick, whichever I say you will not accept.?

Behind Graf, Lucas slipped into the library silently. He held the dagger in his hands, opened and attached to the sheath, chain twined about his wrist in case he dropped it.

?The dagger is here, of course.? McAre answered, being certain not to actually look at Lucas. He prayed fervently that Liez?rial wouldn?t alert Graf to Lucas? presence, and hopefully the boy hadn?t opened his mind and maintained contact with the God. If Liez?rial supported Graf?s actions, he was doomed.

?I don?t want cryptic, vague nonsense thrown in my face. Where. Exactly. Is. The dagger?? Graf asked, gripping the desk with both his hands and leaning closer towards McAre. The cleric shifted his weight back so he could duck away from the man lashing out if he needed to.

?I said it?s here. I?m not being vague or cryptic at all.?

McAre thoroughly enjoyed the look of confusion on the man?s face, counting the time until comprehension replaced confusion. In the time, Lucas was able to creep closer to him, raising the dagger into a defensive posture.

McAre waited until Lucas was just out of striking range before allowing himself to glance at the boy, certain now that Liez?rial wasn?t aiding Graf. All the wings on the armor were stationary, as well; the Cleric didn?t know if that was important or not, but hopefully it was a sign that Liez?rial wasn?t tending the armor.

Graf finally noticed the Cleric looking behind him, and whirled around. At the same time, Lucas lunged forward, dagger clenched in one hand, the other capped around the base of the hilt to help him push it through the armor.

Lucas had the blessings of the Gods; the way that Graf had turned and hunched over in a defensive stance had presented the opening of the chest piece, the small gap between neck and torso.
The dagger slid with hardly any effort between his throat and his chest, striking no armor and piercing behind his collarbone. Graf?s eyes widened even further with shock, and he sputtered past a damaged throat, coughing out a mouthful of blood, and cursing Liez?rial?s name. He reached up and groped harmlessly at the dagger sticking out of his larynx, and tried to focus his eyes on Lucas. As he stretched one hand forward towards the boy, Lucas reached out as well and guided Graf?s hand down to his side.

?I don?t blame you for knocking me out. It was a means to your end, and you caused no lasting damage. But the Azure Cinquedea in the hands of a Pactio would be a blasphemy. We can?t allow that to happen. Now, rest, Graf.?

Graf continued to look at the boy, working his jaw up and down but unable to form words. He slowly sunk to his knees.

Lucas looked at McAre. ?Should we heal him? I can retrieve the nun for you if you?re the only one able to heal him.?

McAre shook his head. ?Open your mind, and see if you can touch Liez?rial. Ask him what he wants; I get the impression that he wasn?t up for helping Graf when you came in. It should?ve been no effort at all to detect you, and possibly immobilize you. Also, I think that the lack of movement in the wings is a sign that Liez?rial was absent.
?Keep the dagger in him. If you remove it, he?ll continue to bleed out beyond my ability to stop without unlocking my magic. I?ll sustain him for now, while you converse with Liez?rial.?

Lucas nodded, and shuddered slightly. It was the first time he was directly responsible for someone?s death, but not the first time he?d attacked someone. A year past, he?d helped the monks defend the Monastery from a squad of roving plunderers and black marketers, and he?d managed to hit one of them in the leg with an arrow. The man had managed to escape, but Lucas was unsure if their band had any clerical Magus amongst them. He couldn?t tell if the arrow had struck any vital arteries, or if the wound would be fatal. It was an uncertain hit, and he never found out if he?d actually killed the man or not.

Of course, perhaps Liez?rial would want McAre to spare Graf?s life, and Lucas wouldn?t be responsible for his death.

Lucas opened his mind and sought out the brilliance of Liez?rial?s presence, but it was distant and dim.

Liez?rial, are you there? I need you.




Ian McAre would be played by Nicolas Cage, just so he could have a simple role to play so he can pad his acting resume's average of 'lol' acting jobs to 'decent' acting jobs :derp:
just kidding but lol nicolas cage
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Kasu on November 30, 2010, 12:43:08 AM
Things just got crazy again.

Also, I forgot to mention that I find the trigger for McAre's abilities extremely amusing. :3
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 30, 2010, 02:49:33 AM
Enter a group of my favorite characters, the Paladins
(also for anyone who remembers Everlasting Wanderers, we're about to meet Sara and Acied)



Chapter 4

Damian blinked. He wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t having trouble seeing anything, despite being blind in his left eye, and he wasn’t scared of anything. There just wasn’t anything else to do while the Guild Master was yelling at him.

Evidently it was his fault that a Mentalist-Magus was able to stupefy one of his men, one of whom was unseasoned and had never actually faced real combat, much less a determined Magus, and slip past the garrison and into the Maging Guild proper.

“You should have better control of your men! You can rest assured that I will continue to test you like this until I am completely satisfied with your level of security! I refuse to be defended by sleepy, old soldiers who have nothing better to do than laze about and fatten themselves up!

At this, Damian blinked in surprise, his good eye snapping into focus on the skinny man in front of him. By pure reflex, he lashed out, leaning fully into a tight-fisted punch aimed squarely at the Master’s nose.

However, there was a spark as his gauntlet smashed into a psychokinetic barrier. Heighler jerked back in surprise, blinking the flash out of his eyes. Even though it was the barrier he himself maintained, he wasn’t expecting it. He also wasn’t expecting the Paladin standing before him to have actually continued through it, piercing it and wrapping his fingers around his throat.

“With due respect, Good Master Magus, we are not paid for our services to mankind. We have but only volunteers to man garrisons such as this; very few hardened combat soldiers remain from the Cleansing of the Air who are willing to give up their civilized lives and continue to be warriors. The boy who was guarding the breached post when your intruder – and yes, we’re all well aware that that was no man under your command who snuck into your Guild – came through has barely had reason to draw out his sword beyond training, and he himself harbors no Mentalist or Magus abilities. And I’ll forgive you for the comment about us doing nothing beyond fattening up; being a Good Master Magus, I’m sure you’ve never had to lift a broadsword, or wear a suit of armor, or carry a shield, so I’ll assume ignorance instead of malice in your case. Instead, perhaps, Good Master Magus, you should be more aware of your surroundings; I heard the intruder wasn’t wearing any sort of Maging Guild robes, and even had a very particular gauntlet on, like nothing any of the Paladins here use. Rumor even has it he lied to your face and managed to walk right out of the Guild, Good Master Magus.”

Reginald grinned over the immobilizing hand. “Well, then, for that show of spirit and strength, I suppose I’ll forgive you this time. But I still demand better security! If you can’t provide it, then I shall have you removed from this garrison and replaced.”

Damian absorbed this, and grinned back. He lowered Reginald back down the ten centimeters he’d lifted him, and released the tall man’s throat and dropped his hand, tugging it with slight effort through the remains of the barrier. “Very well, Good Master Magus,” he said, once again spitting out the overly formal title, “I shall expedite the process for you. I will remove myself from your service and return to one of the other Maging Guild garrisons. I do earnestly wish for your success in maintaining the security of your Guild, but I can see, as plain as you can, that neither of us will work together very well. We don’t need this sort of tension to distract us from our service to mankind.”

Damian brought himself to attention, the sharp angles and occasional spike on his armor snapping together with a very audible crack, but he did not salute Heighler. The Master Magus gave a microscopic bow, and turned away from him and strode away from the Paladin commander, leaving the garrison.

The other Paladins assembled in the hall waited until the Magus had left, then began to applaud their leader. Damian turned about, finally relaxing his shoulders and back, and waved one gloved hand around in a lazy circle beside his head, beckoning the applause, and grinning at his men.

“Keroth, come here,” he called out, summoning his second-in-command.

The smaller, slender man rose from his spot at the communal table and strode towards him. “Excellent work, sir. If I’d seen that comment coming, I would’ve started bets on whether or not you’d break his barrier.” A group of the Paladins surrounding where he’d been seated chuckled, then turned their attention back to their meals.

Unlike the rest of the Paladins in the mess hall, Damian was the only one wearing his full armor. He’d known in advance that Heighler was going to come and shout him down for the intruder, mostly because he’d been warned by the Master’s own Apprentice, but also because Damian had arranged for the shift roster to have been ‘lost’, protecting the young soldier who was hypnotized from the irate Master’s wrath. He didn’t know exactly how angry the Master would be, but based on their past interactions he knew just how short the man’s temper was. He refused to have to face the man without his armor on; in the worst case, depending on what rumors were to be believed, the man may have lashed out and killed Damian to salve his pride. The mages and the knights weren’t on the best of terms, and if that were the case, he refused to die without his armor on.

“I think we should finish our meals prematurely, Keroth. We’re going to have to find ourselves some new postings.”

Keroth laughed. Even though it was Damian being dismissed, Keroth really had no choice but to follow. The two of them were amongst the highest ranking Paladins of Aubernat, soldiers who both shared Magus status and who also complimented each others fighting styles perfectly. Every Paladin was trained in this fashion; only rarely did a Paladin fight alone, and usually only powerful Mage Paladins at that.

Damian and Keroth’s magic abilities weren’t suited for civilized lifestyles, so the two remained Paladins even after the Cleansing of the Air campaign. Through a combination of superior training, better magus skills, and the backing of a God, the Paladins of Aubernat came through the entire three-year campaign with only forty-one losses. “With the backing of a God, none of us will fall,” Keroth had said, back at the beginning of the campaign. And indeed, the entire campaign succeeded as well as it did because both Aubernat and the Outer God, Liez’rial, had supported them. Lozenreald herself supported them, albeit indirectly. The slaughter of so many of her followers prevented her from actually taking part in any wholesale combat, so before the Campaign had truly begun she crafted a dagger for the Paladins to use, and gave it to Aubernat. Damian supposed that if she had fully helped them, giving the Paladins the backing of three Gods, Keroth’s benediction would’ve kept those forty-one soldiers from dying.

Keroth himself was an Alteration Magus, and with his small frame a very swift fighter. Damian, also an Alteration Mage, swung the heavyweight steel around, drawing as much attention to himself with his bulky armor and massive sword, while Keroth dashed back and forth, flitting in and out of combat, burying his smaller blades in the armor of the Zealots. Neither of them could actively use their magic in full melee combat, but Damian alone could take on small squads of Zealots with just his fighting prowess and magic alone.

Damian could give people, anyone, a command, and they’d obey him, as long as it wasn’t against their nature. However, Damian knew full well that relaxing, falling asleep, becoming very hungry, or arguing with ones companions were all well within human nature. Once you realized this, you could effectively cripple someone so much that they’d have a hard time resisting the shock of blocking his massive sword, or the impact of his spiked fist. Keroth, when supported by Damian, could nullify an entire army, provided certain conditions were met; the element of surprise, an opposing army that didn’t have their weapons visible, various other conditions as well. Keroth once joked that his magic required more than one condition, beyond just needing skin contact with another person. Damian had it easy; he only had to hold his fist over his heart and look at his targets.

Keroth could make observations on things, and his magic would make it true. The problem with this system, though, is that if he actually did know how something worked, or what something could do, he couldn’t just declare the opposite of it. Ignorance was his greatest weapon; fortunately, or unfortunately, Damian realized this, clasped him on the shoulder – thus providing the necessary skin contact, but unintentionally – and told him, “It’s a shame you’ll have to be ignorant of a great many things. You have such a sharp mind, and your magic is an extremely potent weapon. But knowledge weakens it, my friend.”

Since he had made skin contact with Keroth, and he mentioned his magic, the spry man began to think of his magic. He had skin contact with Damian’s hand on his shoulder, and began to ponder his words. His magic took hold, and Keroth was from that point on unable to retain any specific knowledge about the workings of the world. As an added bonus, however, Damian’s blessing that he ‘had such a sharp mind’ became true, as well. Keroth could come up with abstract chains of logic that would allow his magic to work without hindrance at a moments notice.

Damian smiled at the amassed Paladins. Many of them were trained here at this garrison, and had picked up their first sword under his command. A few of them were soldiers already, before transferring or being drafted to the Maging Guild’s Defensive Bastion. Only a small handful of all the Paladins in the entire compound were actually Paladins, leftover from the last war, the Cleansing of the Air. None of them were present, and Damian preferred it that way. They would’ve likely come to his aid, and have been just as offended by Heighler’s comments and insults and at the least stood up to aid the armored Paladin; just showing their support to him in that fashion, Damian suspected, would be enough to get the skinny man’s attention, and wrath. He didn’t want any of them to have to suffer the same treatment he received, and while he would’ve enjoyed their company on his upcoming travels, he also knew that this garrison would desperately need actual combat-hardened soldiers to pass on their skills to these youthful Paladins.

Keroth returned to his seat at the table and picked up his pair of daggers. The man rarely went anywhere without them, and while he didn’t use them on his food, it wasn’t unusual to see them sitting next to him, in arms-reach at all times. He waved at the surrounding soldiers and grinned at them. “I suppose we’ll be saying goodbye, now. You lot can fight amongst each other on who gets to finish my dinner,” he said, standing straight and finally walking back to Damian’s side.

“You’ll need to pack, sir. I really doubt your armor holds all of your luggage inside it. And even if it did, I still need to gather my belongings. Which gate shall we meet at, and how long?”

Damian pondered for a moment. “I suppose about ten minutes time should be plenty to gather what we need. Head to the western exit; I feel like heading out further towards the coastline. I haven’t seen the ocean since the Cleansing.”

Keroth nodded. “Good idea. I could go for a swim myself.”



Back in the Maging Guild proper, Anja absently toyed with her waves of magic. She was messing around with her ability, testing how little she could grin.

She found that she could smirk slightly, and be able to focus enough to pull a little less than half her normal energy around just one hand. She grimaced in annoyance, and the magic sputtered out of existence with a piercing burst of white noise. She began to twitch her cheek again until it was somewhat reminiscent of a smirk, and began to prod at that dark corner of her mind. It wasn’t until she’d formed a half grin that she was able to perceive the waves of magic emanating from her body, but it wasn’t to last. Reginald burst through the door of her spacious study, startling her and unintentionally casting off her grin.

“Impudent Paladins. At least their bothersome commander will be out of my hair; let someone else deal with his stubbornness.” He lowered himself with the minimum required d?cor into one of the large, welcoming seats.

“I’ll wager he had advance warning of your temper, sir, and prepared for your arrival,” she offered up, easily summoning up a forced grin – one of the ones so perfectly suited for making men drop their guard, to think they were safe. One she often used to hide the workings of her mind behind. It was also useful to let her tap into her magic at a moments notice, of course.

Reginald blinked, and glanced sidelong at her.

“Advance warning? From whom?
“And what makes you say that?” he asked.

Anja felt a feather-light touch on her mind, a gentle brush along the edges of the mysterious corner of her head where her magic was kept locked away. Instantly, she conjured her power and bolted it directly around her head, turning the link backwards and re-focusing the mind probe. Conjuring up all the negative thoughts she could – her ultimate fear of fire, despite her absolute control over it; the annoyance at menstruation; utter disrespect for her peers – and shoved them back into Reginald’s mind, forcing them to the forefront of his attention and demanding that he focus on them.

Stunned, Reginald shattered the contact, disrupting even Anja’s magic and closing their minds to each other. “Impressive. Should I wonder why you were so defensive about your thoughts, or were you just waiting for an opportunity to show that little trick off to me?” he asked, straightening slightly in his chair.

Anja smiled at him.




No, Damian isn't just that strong to nullify barriers - he was just that pissed at the insult to his men.
I wrote up these characters back when Code Geass was in it's heyday, but I wasn't yet watching it myself. My friend, though, was, and mentioned Lelouch's power, and I thought it was a bit absurd. I thought 'well that'd make no sense, ultimate compulsion over someone? You can't 'hypnotize' someone to go against their basic survival instincts.'
So I tweaked the power and put it in an older dude :D
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 30, 2010, 03:10:38 AM
Sifarus lay slumped over the peak of the balcony he was perched above. After spending two minutes lying face-up, lazily studying the clouds, he realized that his spine was not in fact meant to bend that way, and staying like that would leave him sore for the next several days.

So, he rolled over onto his stomach, his waist mimicking the angle of the decorative peak. If he stretched his hands and feet as far down the balcony as he could, he?d still be roughly a half a meter away from the edge in either direction, so he was in no danger of dangling limbs being spotted.

Under the watchful ?eye? of Sithenth, he put himself into a very deep trance, so as not to alert Master Heighler to his presence. Once the Master Magus left the area, Sithenth would pull him out of his trance and devote a small portion of his attention to masking the energetic young bard?s mind from Heighler.

Heighler didn?t seem to be in much of a hurry to leave, and so Sifarus was left slumped above the balcony for a full hour. He wasn?t staying in the room that Sifarus? hiding spot was connected to, but he was still close enough to detect him - if he opened his mind and reached out - for a long enough period of time that Sithenth began to get impatient. Finally, the God planted the suggestion that Heighler was suddenly quite hungry, and he should go out into the town to try out one of those quaint little restaurants some obscure colleague told him about.

Of course, there was no colleague, and the first eatery Heighler passed that he hadn?t eaten at before would become the restaurant he thought he was looking for.

Sifarus woke from his trance with Sithenth?s help and stretched, allowing himself to slide a little down one side of the balcony. Once his body was no longer bent, he rolled over onto his back and sat up.
I really should?ve thought about how exactly I?m going to get down from here?

Sithenth laughed mightily at that; If you were more observant, you?d have noticed that the balcony is only just barely withdrawn compared to the overhang. Just grab the edge and swing in; you yourself were boasting about how you were such an excellent rogue just the last time we were here. Aren?t most thieves acrobatic?

Sifarus scoffed, and reached down and grabbed the edge of the overhang. Pulling himself forward, he peeked under it and glanced about. The balcony was empty, as was the room immediately inside, but seated in a chair facing away from the window was a figure topped with a mop of dusty brown hair.
Grinning, he heaved forward and flipped off of the balcony, hovering over a four-story plummet in weightlessness for a moment, before gravity turned about and glared at him, pulling him down. Keeping his grip firmly on the balcony roof, however, caused him to swing, and he released the roof as he began to reach the apex of his swing. Whirling around in midair so he wasn?t facing out the balcony anymore, he landed silently and crouched, absorbing the shock of the fall with his knees without complaint.

Dusting himself off lightly, he pulled a small flower out of the inside pocket of his tunic; unfortunately, it was a little flattened from him laying on it while he was perched on the roof. He gave it a small squeeze, trying to plump it back up, before deciding it was futile and probably wouldn?t be appreciated anyways.

Nonetheless, he extended it down, passing it beside Anja?s head and holding it slightly in front of her.

?For you, Milady,? he said, grinning widely when he saw how much she jumped.

?Who the hell are ? you!? she said, rising out of her chair into a crouch and turning back to face him.

The young man smiled. ?What an odd way to greet the man who helped repair some Mentalist damage. How?ve you been, Milady? Is it all right if I call you Milady? You are, after all, a Masters? Apprentice.?

Anja settled down and rose up to her full height. She was shorter than Sifarus by a head, however, but she still had a commanding presence.

?Address me as you wish, I?ll answer to anything between ?girl? and ?Grand Mistress of the World?, including my name. Speaking of, what exactly is your name? I don?t think you ever told me.?

Sifarus feigned disappointment. ?You wound me, Milady. I told you when we first met; I am Sifarus Idikus to my coworkers, and ?Sefidicus? to my friends. If you so desire, you may call me ?Sefi?.
?Anyways, I?m sure you know I?m not here to exchange pleasantries. Although, I am rather amused to imagine your reaction if that were the case,? he said, offering up his widest, most disarming grin, ?but I do in fact have a reason for sneaking back through a garrison of Paladins, gleaning the location of the Master?s Study from one of the other students, scaling four stories of the local Maging Guild, and waiting above your balcony for over an hour while the Master Magus loitered about.?

Anja blinked in surprise, and grinned in response to his smile. So, she can feel amusement and humor, rather than just cold cynicism. Good! Sifarus kept his thoughts to himself, but made a note of the fact nonetheless.

He twisted the flower in his fingers, taking it from an extended grip and rolling it through his fingers so he could hold it in his fist instead. ?Should I put this somewhere, or are you not a flower kind of girl??

Anja raised her hand, gesturing to the side, and a vase that Sifarus hadn?t seen before coasted through the air and into her grasp. She held it forward, pushing the original flowers to the side. ?Put it in here, may as well give the little wimp-of-a-flower some water.?

The entire time, from presenting the flower to putting it into the vase, Sifarus was making mental note after note, doing his best to make as many observations about this young lady as he could. The root of his interest, he had to admit, was in her bedside love confession ? misguided as it may have been, he did have to admit she had a very lovely appearance to her, and the way she wore her hair short was rather attractive, as well ? and her connection to the Master Magus of one of the largest Maging Guilds in the country. That could be attractive for other reasons.

Nonchalantly, and without asking, he perched himself on the armrest of the large chair that Heighler had sunk into earlier. ?So, then, my lovely Lady Anja, let?s get to know each other, shall we??

Anja set the vase down on a table near the window Sifarus had wandered in from, then lowered herself into the seat she was sitting in a few moments ago.

Sifarus continued speaking, not waiting for Anja?s permission or denial, or even a simple comment from her, all the while turning his gloved hand back and forth, idly looking it over.

?Tell me, how does a lovely lady such as yourself end up as the Apprentice to the Master of the largest Maging Guild in this country? Don?t tell me it?s just because the Master has a thing for younger women, although if that were the case, I wouldn?t blame him. But that surely couldn?t be the corruption I?ve heard about, within the Seers of the Inner Eye or whatever they?re calling themselves now? I digress, however. What sort of magic can he use, what exactly is he a Master of??

Throughout his rant, once again, Sifarus was watching Anja intently under the guise of empty banter. He paid close attention to her, noticing her reactions to his flattery, how long it took for his chatter to wear on her patience, whether she was annoyed by his presence or not, her curious attention to his gauntlet. He pressed lightly at the edges of her mind, not seeking specific thoughts or memories, but just reactions and emotions. She was still surprised by his sudden entrance, but curiosity was overpowering her caution.

Anja began to lean forward in her chair, listening to Sifarus? questions. As he ended his current chain of questions, he felt the air thicken around him, and his sight began to fade out. Colors leeched out of everything around him, but he wasn?t alarmed.

Sithenth was slowing time down for the two of them, giving Sifarus a greater reaction time to his surroundings. The slow lack of color was caused by light no longer entering his eyes as fast as it was normally; indeed, this time around everything began to bleed together into the same monotone shade of gray. He?d never seen Sithenth slow time down this much.

What?s going on, Sithenth? I?m not in a fight, unless you think she?s about to attack me.

Sithenth?s voice echoed back, dripping in grandiose drama, Not that. I just felt I needed to stop time altogether so I wouldn?t throw your cadence off with your little chat. Haven?t you noticed that you?ve stopped, as well? Regardless, two things I wanted to bring up; first, ?Sefi?? What is that, and? why? Second, I shouldn?t have put the thought that one of Heighler?s subordinates suggested a restaurant for him to eat at; he dismissed his colleague as ?just another inferior scum-sucker? or some such dribble, and stopped in at a closer eatery, one he?s been to multiple times. The staff there knows him by sight and had his order prepared without asking; he?s already quite nearly done eating and will be on his way back shortly. I?d wager that you have about fifteen minutes at the most, if he takes his time eating.

Sifarus ?nodded?; though his body was stopped, his mental image of himself ? the one conversing with Sithenth ? wasn?t inhibited by the time-stop. Sefidicus is a name I came up with by combining my first and last names. I gathered that most people I knew would?ve been lazy with it and just shortened it to ?Sefi?. I want to see if she?ll start calling me by my nickname, as a sign of affection, or if she?ll call me by my first name. I want to see what her habit is for calling peoples? names; will she use first names for everyone, or will she remain formal with me, since we?ve only just met?

Sithenth grunted in affirmation, and color started to return to the world around Sifarus. Indeed, he was still leaning forward on the armrest of the chair he?d perched himself on, lips partway through curving into a charming smile.

Anja?s smile was replaced by a vacant expression; her eyes had wandered out of focus as she considered something he?d said.

?Corruption in the Order of Seers? What do you mean??

Sifarus slid himself fully against the back of the chair, staying on the armrest. ?You may not have been fully cognitive back in the hospital wing, but I Shifted out of there. My magic only involves putting a fog over people?s minds, not teleporting. I can Shift because I?m a Pactio with a God ? that being Sithenth. You might have seen him when he stopped Heighler from punching a hole through my sternum; I?d just released you from the hypnotic trance I put you in when Sithenth showed up.

?Anyways, through him, I learned that the Inner Gods are concerned about how the Maging Guilds are being run now. Someone who?s managed to avoid their awareness has taken over, and they don?t want it to stay like this. As it is, right now, the current shadowy leaders aren?t going to do much damage. But if things continue the way they are, the Gods? plans for Kaetir are going to go haywire.?

Anja sat back into her seat and sank deeper into it. ?You?re privy to the plans of the Gods??

?No. But, being a Pactio makes you a tool to them, a piece of their plans. My role is to aid Sithenth, the Sly Bastard God, in his work towards correcting this corruption. So far, I haven?t been able to find out how far this seed of decay has taken root; I in fact can?t even be sure that you?re not in on it. I?m content in my safety, though; I?m here with Sithenth?s blessing, so he?s actively watching over me. With your permission, I could ask him to poke around your head and see if you?re in on it.?

Anja nodded eagerly. ?Dispel your suspicions. You?ve piqued my interest with this talk of corruption; I want to find out about it, too.

?And I kinda want to meet Sithenth,? she said, leaning forward in her seat.

This girl is edgy. That, or excited; she can?t sit still. Sithenth, you want to come in and suit action to words?

Coming. And don?t call me the Sly Bastard God again, I?m just a simple trickster.
Sithenth?s silhouette traced itself rapidly into the air, floating in the space between Sifarus and Anja. Almost before Anja had registered his outline did he phase into existence, with a small pop of displaced air. The swirling air made his half-cape, epaulettes, and oversized sleeves flutter slightly, before he dropped completely to the ground. Even standing on his own feet, rather than floating, he towered over the two youths. Sithenth had crafted his human appearance to be impressive; grand clothing, long legs, broad shoulders. His helm was almost lost amongst the other effects, but it still caught the eye of anyone who looked up to his face.

An echo preceded his words as he turned to Anja and offered a half-bow, folding one hand across the top of his waist and spreading the other out beside him.

?Greetings, young Magus, Anja Stasz. I am Sithenth, Outer God of Trickery.?

Sifarus pulled one leg up onto the armrest with him, and leaned back against the chair, hugging the upraised knee. He smiled at Anja?s reaction to his arrival; jaw-dropped in awe, halfway raised out of her chair.

?And now he?ll stop echoing. That makes it really hard to understand him, and it gets annoying after a while. Makes for impressive entrances, though.? Sifarus chuckled.

Sithenth grinned down at Anja in response to his comment. ?So, I have your permission to prowl about through your mind? You realize, by agreeing to this, you?re giving me absolute power over you.?

?I give you permission to access my mind and my memories, for sheer observance only. You may make no changes. Leave my childhood undisturbed; I don?t feel like wallowing through it again.?

Sithenth laughed. ?Very good, you know exactly how to talk to a God. Very well then; Sefi, I want you to close your eyes. Don?t have to do it right now, but in about ten seconds you?ll have to.?

Sifarus grinned inwardly. Sithenth had slipped in his new ?Sefi? nickname quite nicely. ?Alright, then. But, why?? he asked.

Sithenth twisted around and directed his masked stare at the young bard. ?I?m taking my helmet off.?
He raised his hand to the base of his helm, and twisted it up and off his head. Sifarus had seen him do this twice before; when making their Pact, Sithenth wasn?t wearing his helmet, and another time when Sithenth had stopped a small group of miscreants from utterly destroying a small shrine run by a single woman. He had lifted the bandits off the ground and manifested himself in their midst, arms folded across his chest, before turning and facing the leader of the fools. He walked towards the man and pulled him down out of the air by grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him downwards; the man in turn tried to blast Sithenth in the head with a bolt of magic. His helm came off cleanly, with no marks or scratches on it, leaving Sithenth?s eyeless face exposed. Before the God could even do anything to the man, he?d begun screaming in fear and confusion.

Sifarus smiled at Sithenth?s eerie face. ?What, I?ve seen that before. I knew about that,? he said, gesturing at the God.

?I know that. But you haven?t, and shouldn?t, see my actual eyes. So close yours, or I?ll do it for you.?

Anja spoke up from behind Sithenth, having risen from her seat; ?What do you mean? What?s he talking about??

Sithenth sighed and turned around. Anja gasped and stumbled against the chair, backpedaling away from the eyeless man.

?My entire appearance is designed to throw humans off. But when I bring my eyes out, that?s when havoc is wrought.? He knelt down slightly, bringing himself as close to eye-level as he could with Anja while staying comfortable. ?I know it?s eerie, but I need you to look me right in the eyes. They?ll be there in a moment. Sefi, close your eyes, or this will affect you, too.?

Anja didn?t stay shocked long, much to her credit. ?How do you see, then? I can understand that the helmet won?t obstruct your view, since you don?t have eyes, but how do you see, period??

?The same way a talented Mentalist is unaffected by a blindness, poor lighting, or having his eyes covered. With my mind,? he said. ?Sefi??

Sifarus dropped his leg off the armrest and let it fall slack. He leaned back and reclined over the chair?s top, stretching his arms out. ?They?re closed,? he replied with a sigh.

Despite Anja?s caution about allowing the Trickster God poke through her brain because of something so avoidable as looking into his eyes, curiosity overpowered caution and she looked up at Sithenth?s face. He had his head tilted slightly back, and he was grinning. What appeared to be a shadow flicked across the depressions where his eyes were supposed to be, leaving behind the missing ocular orbs, which were aimed down his nose at her own eyes.

The world bled away, melting out of Anja?s sight, leaving only the grinning God behind.



For Sifarus, the probe was immediately over. Sithenth, however, waded through Anja?s mind for what felt like a half an hour, and Anja had no perception of time ? or anything else. In a sense, it was immediate for her, as well.

?Despite the fact that your permission means nothing to me and mine eyes, I honored your words. I haven?t changed anything, and I didn?t poke into your childhood.
?Sefidicus, she?s safe to trust, and quite eager to become an ally of ours. She doesn?t know much about the Order of Seers, but she?s in a unique position to help us find out.?

Sithenth bowed down deeply, having somehow donned his helmet again while looking at Anja. Sifarus propped his head up in time to see him straighten out quickly and pull himself off the ground and into the air, turning about so the loose straps of his clothing spun outward before he faded rapidly from sight. Small points of light twisted in the swirling wind left behind by his rapid departure, fading almost as quickly as he did. The young man let out a small sigh at Sithenth?s love for theatrics; however, he did have to admit that if he hadn?t seen his tricks for the past three years, he would be rather impressed. Anja certainly was.

?Bit of an ego on that one, once you get to know him. We?ve got a sort of love-hate relationship going on between us,? Sifarus said, rising up to his feet. Anja chuckled.

?Now, then, Milady, like The Trickster said, you?re in a unique position to help us. Your Master Magus is one of the higher-ranking Magus?, isn?t he? He should be either close enough to the Order of Seers to know what?s going on, or he may even be in on it. I don?t claim to know the best way to earn his trust enough to spill what he knows about it, but you?ve got to think of something.
?I?ll be able to Shift in and out of here whenever I like, but I won?t be able to tell where Reginald is unless Sithenth comes with me, or until I fully manifest. Perhaps you could do me a favor, then ? whenever you expect him to show up, or when he just recently left, turn the vase so my flower is aimed towards the window there. Heighler shouldn?t be observant enough to notice that, is he??

Anja shook her head and considered the vase. ?There?s no telling. He?s a keen observer of a great many things ? mostly because he?s a teacher ? but he usually doesn?t come here when I?m studying, and when he does, he?s usually tired or upset about something. I don?t think he?ll be paying much attention to my study. I could also say that the vase is just here for me to toy around with while practicing my telekinesis. If he asks about it, I?ll be able to explain why it seems to move. I?m not personally sure myself how I?ll convince him to spill his secrets to me, but judging from what I?ve picked up from him he has plans to turn me into a replacement Master Magus. I don?t think I?ll be able to pull that off, because I don?t have any Mentalist traits unless I simulate them with my magic.?

Sifarus nodded. That just might work. ?In which case, Milady, I beg my leave of you. I?ll stop?
?This is just your study? Not your actual room??

Anja blinked at him and crossed her legs. ?There?s no bed in here, no kitchen. Could you live in a room such as this??

Sifarus actually looked around, finally. Indeed, the chamber was just one fairly large room, with a small division in the form of a raised counter, for aesthetic purposes it seemed. After a moments pause, he finally quipped, ?I could. I have very few needs.?

?Like food??

Sifarus smiled at her. ?Maybe. Where?s your room? I need to see the place, or somewhere very near it, before I can Shift to it.?

Anja stood up quickly, strode over to him, and slapped him hard.

?I. Think. Not. You don?t know much about women, do you? Giving you the ability to spy on me in my supposed privacy is utter insanity. Look for me here in the study; if I?m not here but the vase is turned, I?ll be back shortly.?

?Right, then. I?ll have to find my way to your room on my own, then, my lovely Lady Anja,? he said, grinning, as much his stinging cheek would let him.

Anja raised his hand to slap him again, and Sifarus closed his eyes, leaving his smile plastered on his face. Sithenth, however, had returned and held her hand up, preventing her from slapping the young man.

?Sefidicus, we must leave. Heighler is returning.? With that, the God released Anja?s hand and faded out.

Anja waited until Sifarus had opened his eyes at Sithenth?s words, then slapped him squarely on the other cheek.

?You can go now.?

Sifarus laughed, and made his way to the balcony railing. ?Shall see you around, Milady.?

He fell over backwards, allowing himself to freefall away from the building just long enough for Anja to poke her head over the railing before he Shifted away.

?They?re both obsessed with theatrics.?




In case it seems a little odd for Anja to be so eager to join them after establishing in the first paragraph of her introduction that she's ambitious and power-hungry, remember a few things;
She just suffered a mental attack, of which Sifarus/Sefi had a hand in affecting afterwards, accidentally making a connection between the armored hand that pulled her from a fire in her childhood and his gauntlet, so she also thinks she loves him on a subconscious level
While recovering from said attack, the one man she respected at the time disowned her right in front of her, and that one man was also the one responsible for disabling her
She's power-hungry and ambitious, and a God just popped up in front of her and said 'hey, come with us'
And finally, a God just went rooting around through her mind. Although, author's note, he didn't even have to change much of anything to make her more loyal to Sefi.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: MysTeariousYukari on November 30, 2010, 01:36:05 PM
Omg! ^_^ I had been hoping you'd put this up! Fantastic! I love it!

The Master Magus is such a jerk, I like it :) Makes people screwing with him that much better :) Sethenth's look, for what I'm imagining, is soooo awesome! :*

*continuous praise of the story goes here* :D

I swear, I should be posting this comment in the Love Thread :V
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 30, 2010, 02:37:56 PM
D'aaaaw, I love you, too, Tear. The eternal morale booster~

If I had any talent at drawing, I'd have sketches ready to go up, but alas, I do not. :C
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on November 30, 2010, 10:13:43 PM
Ian McAre isn't Lucas' father-figure; he's more like the cool uncle. All the monks at the Monastery are like his cool uncles. Lucas has a pretty good relationship with the Monastery, but he still lives with his parents on their estate/farm.




Chapter 5

Lucas stretched, squeezing his eyes shut against the light streaming through the window of his room. He cringed at his stiffness; he could barely move. He rolled his head to the side and raised his hand to his face, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Cold, smooth metal met his face, instead of his skin. He snapped his eyes open and froze, glancing about, trying to figure out where exactly he was. He obviously wasn?t back home, in his own bed. His room didn?t have a window in it, and his bed wasn?t this high off the ground.

Before coming to a conclusion about the room, he pulled his hand off of his cheek and held it in front of his eyes; he was wearing an armored glove.



Details flooded into his sleep-logged mind.

Liez?rial, are you there? I need you.

Graf?s voice replied to his mental call. Let the pactio die. He has violated the conditions and abused my power. Grip the hilt of the dagger and squeeze it for a moment.

Lucas reached forward and did as the voice commanded him, his mind blank. McAre looked at him curiously, a soft aura of moving air surrounding him. He didn?t move to stop Lucas, though, when the young man reached out and gripped the dagger.

The dagger began to glow after Lucas had gripped the hilt, and a burst of light flashed out. After the glow had diminished, McAre could no longer sense the life flowing through Graf?s body. The Azure Cinquedea had stopped his heart and stole away his life, killing the man instantly and ending his lingering pain.

Lucas released the dagger and stepped back. He slumped a bit, sagging like a puppet whose strings were cut, before catching himself and rising up to his full height.

He blinked his eyes back into focus, and noticed that McAre had stopped sustaining his magic. Lucas looked at Graf?s body; the wings, pinned between his limp body and the desk McAre was situated behind, began to straighten out and push Graf?s body upright. The rest of the wings on the suit he was wearing began to straighten out, as well, all pointing away from the dead man?s body. They began to let out a soft light, and the body rose off the ground. It straightened upright, no longer slack from the lack of motivation. The man inside was still dead, but the suit he wore began to move about as though a healthy man occupied it.

?Graf has died. I am using his body as a vessel to talk to both of you, for I?m aware that McAre does not have the required Mentalist abilities to communicate with me.
?I am Liez?rial, the Puppet-master Outer God. You have slain Graf, the Pactio. Please remove the Azure Cinquedea, before its essence begins to remove the enchantments I?ve placed upon this armor; it is an anathema to the paranormal.?

Lucas reached forward tentatively and gripped the dagger?s sheath, which was still capped around the base of the hilt. He gave it a quick tug, and it slid freely out of Graf?s collarbone. That can?t be normal; I?ve had more resistance from a slab of meat in the kitchens.

The dagger was clean; no streaks of blood stained it.

?Thank you, Lucas.
?My Pactio violated the conditions of our Pact; I had updated it when the Inner Gods gave me a task, and Graf agreed to the changes, but did not honor them. He continued to use my armor to suit his own needs. He was originally a Cleric, but lost his abilities because he became corrupted by my powers. I am now free of the Pactio; if either of you would like to form one with me, touch the armor.?
With that, the glowing light from the wings ceased, and the body dropped to its knees and sagged down, bent forward at the chest but remaining upright. Liez?rial?s presence diminished again.

Lucas looked at McAre. ?A Pactio, with a God? Just by touching the armor? Shouldn?t it be more complex??

McAre shook his head. ?Once you touch the armor, it?ll become bound to you, unless you and Liez?rial both will it to come off. You?ll be granted all the powers needed to maintain the suit in flight, and have access to some of Liez?rial?s own powers, in exchange for him siphoning energy from you. That?s the condition of the Pactio. If you should happen to die while wearing the armor, it?s likely that Liez?rial will consume your spiritual energy before death.?

?The Gods consume the souls of their Pactios??

McAre shook his head again. ?They don?t consume the souls of their Pactios. I know this, because a good portion of Clerical magic involves the human soul, and I?ve worked with Pactios before. Their souls aren?t damaged by the Gods? siphoning. They tap into something else, some other form of energy we produce. Liez?rial may be able to explain it to you better; he?s a God, I?m not.
?And before you ask, I?m not forming a Pactio with him. My place is here, at the Shrine, as a Cleric, not an avatar to the Gods. And, I?m not particular about becoming a swordsman. I will work with swordsmen, but I will not become one.
?Seeing as how I need to be pure, I cannot willingly wound someone, or I will doubt my convictions and lose my abilities.?

Lucas nodded. ?I don?t particularly enjoy that myself, but I don?t have any such stipulations about becoming a warrior. And near as I can tell, I?m not a Mage, so I don?t even think I have any cleric abilities. And? even if I actually did become his Pactio, nothing says I would have to kill. Right??
The cleric nodded.

?Also, remember, you don?t have to become his Pactio. The people worship him enough at the direction of the Inner Gods. If you decide not to become his Pactio, the armor will shift away and dress an empty statue at a Shrine like this one, until someone else touches it.?

?That?s not very fair. The Pactio would be suckered into the pact, without any forewarning!?

Liez?rial spoke into Lucas? mind, still using Graf?s voice. Anyone could nullify the pact at any time. It takes some time, and I do prefer to take some power from the Pactio before leaving them. It?s a negligible amount, barely enough to make the host yawn. I never suit a statue that isn?t designated in the Shrines as one dedicated to me; they all have placards in front of them warning of the touch-contact Pactio.
There is a purpose behind me seeking another Pactio, aside from Graf?s inability to control himself. I need to create an avatar that could lead people. There are changes in the world that need to be wrought, or the Gods plans will go awry.


McAre must have noticed Lucas? surprised expression at Liez?rial?s sudden words; he didn?t say anything until Lucas wiped the confusion off his face.

?Liez?rial was speaking to you? What did he say??

?Pactios can get out of the pact on their own, it seems. He didn?t mention anything about me not having to kill, but he said he wanted to create an avatar to lead people, or something like that.
?I don?t think I?m much of a leader-type person, though; do you? And shouldn?t a leader show that he?s willing to fight, rather than send his followers into danger??

?You understand this, so I?m sure you won?t become addicted to blood-spilling. Here, however, you?ve shown your capacity to kill when the need arises ? especially in someone else?s defense. You?re not traumatized by it, and you don?t revel in it. That alone is enough to make a leader out of you; with Liez?rial?s guidance, I?m sure you could be the kind of avatar the Puppet-master wants.?
I could be horribly wrong, and the taste of a God?s power may corrupt you to the point of becoming a murderer. If that happens, I fear Liez?rial may arrange to have you killed, just as he did for Graf. I will pray this does not happen to you, but I feel you have the right kind of purity that the God is looking for. McAre kept his thoughts to himself, though he did utter a silent prayer to the Inner Gods, and a small utterance to Liez?rial as well, for Lucas? safety.

The boy was silent for a few moments, before asking McAre, ?Why is he called the Puppet-Master God??

McAre laid his hand atop one of the books strewn across the wide desk he was situated behind. ?In all your time here, you never looked up Liez?rial? Your devout study of the Outer Gods, and you missed that?
?Nonetheless, I found myself curious as well, and came here to get some reference material myself. Liez?rial himself could explain it best, but I?ve got a feeling he won?t talk to us again until we form a Pactio.
?Liez?rial never really shows himself in our realm of existence; he hasn?t crafted a human form for himself since he became a God, and some people believe he may have forgotten what he originally looked like. That?s highly unlikely, though, as most of the Gods have perfect memories. Instead of coming to Kaetir in a corporeal form, he instead controls inanimate objects such as suits of armor and weaponry. If someone was to be struck by, or hold onto, anything that he?s possessed, he can in turn control said person. One of his past Pactios had the idea of making small spiked pellets, which he would then fling into people. If any of the pellets struck their skin, Liez?rial could then control them as though they were he. That was, however, many generations ago, and most of the spiked bearings have since been lost or destroyed. The Pactio that developed the idea never gathered them after throwing them, and his ? or her ? name has been lost to history.
?If you were to form a Pactio with him and don the armor, Liez?rial could at any time speak through you, and assume control of your body. When he does, your mind would essentially fall asleep, getting the same amount of rest for however long Liez?rial has your body in his control, equal to the same amount of time spent sleeping. I?m inclined to believe that Liez?rial won?t do this without your permission, or forewarning at least. He uses the same method of controlling to properly maneuver the armors? wings. You?ll also notice that the swords are ridiculously long for a one-handed sword ? he handles that in combat, as well, controlling the trajectory of the blades as the Pactio swings them, or throws them. The whole idea behind the armor was elevated combat; while the wearer hovers off the ground, they have full mobility in any direction. By turning and releasing a sword on its martingale, you could essentially swing it through a wider arc, striking people at a further distance than you would if you were holding the swords for melee range. Because Liez?rial crafted two swords, both on martingales, he has created an interesting fighting style that involves a fair amount of rotating and flipping around in mid-air. I?ve never seen it, but I?m sure Liez?rial will demonstrate to you what you can do with the armor before he takes off for whatever cause it is that he?s fighting under.? McAre placed his hand on top of a book that was lying on the desk in front of him, and slid it to the fore of the desk.
?This text was the most useful for reading up on him and his Puppet-master ways.?

Lucas looked at the book, then at the slumped form of Graf. The swords had slid across the tile floor, oddly without scratching it. Because of this, the points had spread away from Graf?s body and the hilts were angled down farther. With the way the wings were curled around his limp body, he seemed almost majestic.

But, despite his majesty, and Liez?rial?s manipulation, he was still dead. The taste of a God?s power had lead to his corruption, or perhaps Graf wasn?t a very moral man to begin with. If he could resist that temptation, he could avoid the older man?s fate.

With a glance up at McAre, he reached out towards the armor. He hesitated and looked at the cleric again; McAre blinked solemnly, but didn?t say anything, or nod, or give any sign one way or the other towards his opinion of Lucas? choice.

Lucas brushed his fingers against the armor. The smooth metal began to emit a soft glow, steadily getting brighter.

?Congratulations, Lucas. I?m proud of you, and will pray for your safety and sanctity for as long as you remain a Pactio,? McAre said. Lucas tried to focus on him, but the glow began to blot out his sight.

Liez?rial spoke into Lucas? mind, no longer sounding of Graf, but McAre instead. I am proud of you, too. I have no worries about your performance as a Pactio, and you have nothing to fear from me. I will be forthright and honest with you in all manners regarding the Pactio and your role in it.



Lucas looked down at himself. Indeed, he was still wearing the suit of armor, body stretched out, rather than curled up on one side as he normally slept. Oddly, for having worn something as restricting as armor to sleep in, he wasn?t sore. If he wore anything other than loose pants to bed, he woke up covered in aches and felt as though his muscles were swollen and stiff.

It took me a fair amount of energy to fit the armor to you; you don?t have the same physical properties as Graf did. I took the liberty of using some of your own energy to do so, which caused your body to fall asleep. I took possession of you, and told the cleric Ian McAre that the Pactio was formed successfully and explained what had happened. He brought us to this chamber, where I set your body on the bed and let you recover.

Lucas sat up. You sound like McAre. Why is that?

It?s a voice familiar to you. Unless you want me to take on someone else?s voice, this is what I felt would be the most comfortable voice for me to communicate with you with. I could?ve looked about your memories and used your parents, but I felt that might cause some loneliness and homesickness if we were far removed from your family. I understand you?ll also want to explain to them what happened?


Lucas turned and swung his legs off the bed. The greaves touched to the ground with a light tap, and the wings unfolded off of the calves and flared themselves out.

Pulling himself completely off the bed, he looked down at himself.

The breastplate and leggings were featureless and smooth, rather quite bland. The only decoration was where the wings met the armor proper, an ornate set of connections, between what looked like organic wings and the metal of the armor, held together by a patch of armor that looked a lot like muscles. The gauntlets he wore on his wrists and forearms had a few decorative lines etched into them, focusing on where the wings met the bracelets locking the martingales to the wrist. Just as the wings on the boots were folded flat against his calves, the wings on the gauntlets had folded down flat upon his forearms. As he held his hands out to inspect them, the wings uncurled and straightened out as well.

"I suppose that explains how they don?t get crushed if I?m lying down. But, what about the wings on the swords? and on the helmet?"

The wings are on martingales long enough to be set on the floor; that?s what I did with them before laying your body down. The helmet simply comes off, it?s sitting on the nightstand on the other side of the bed.

Lucas twisted around; sure enough, the helmet was sitting on top of the small table, wings already outstretched. He felt a moment?s embarrassment at not realizing that he wasn?t wearing it. After collecting his thoughts, he reached across the bed to pick it up. As he took it into his hand he felt resistance at his wrist; looking down, he saw that the martingale had pulled taut across the bed, and sliced a fine line into the bedclothes. Tracing it over the edge of the bed, he spotted the two long-swords sitting flat on the floor, wings fanned out over each other. The full length of the swords and the wings had them nearly spanning the entire room.

?These martingales are going to be a bit tricky to get used to. I didn?t know they were sharp, either. Can they cut through the armor? What if I accidentally get one looped around myself, or tangled up??

That?s what I?m here for. I will make sure they always follow the best trajectory through the air, and even if someone were to somehow grasp them and pull it against your throat without slicing their own fingers off, they will not cut you, nor will they strangle you. You are, in effect, another piece of the armor, under my enchantment. None of my artifacts can harm another, short of simple cosmetic damage.

Lucas mulled that over as he put the helmet on. "And the swords?"

You could prop yourself up on their points and they won?t harm you, nor will they pierce the armor. However, that doesn?t mean that man-made weapons won?t pierce this armor; it is in fact fairly thin compared to most suits of armor. After any skirmish that damages it, I repair it with the Pactio?s faith.

?Why don?t you enchant it so it?s indestructible??

Consider if a ballistae bolt hits you in the chest. As it is, yes, the bolt will pierce you and likely continue on. A wound like that I can easily heal; however, if the bolt hits the chest plate and doesn?t pierce it, the kinetic energy won?t just vanish. The bolt will slam the armor back, and you inside of it. Depending on the distance and velocity of the bolt, the pressure wave generated by the impact inside the armor could destroy your entire body. I cannot repair complete bodies without a considerable amount of faith; in which case, I?d have to draw it from you, my Pactio, and in doing so I?d kill you. Better to take a smaller wound that would be painful, yes, rather than damaging your entire body beyond repair. Not to mention, such an enchantment would severely drain me of my power to maintain. I don?t just wave my hand and the armor is magically indestructible forever; I have to keep the enchantment going for as long as I want it to be maintained.

Lucas rose from the bed and looked down at the swords. It?s going to take me just as long to get used to those swords as it will to get used to? all this.

I imagine McAre will let us get accustomed to each other while we?re here. You should ask him; this is, after all, a shrine to the Outer Gods. I also happen to be an Outer God
.

Lucas blinked. ?Do you always read my mind??

Of course. Especially when you?re thinking of things related to me.

The young man sighed, and then stooped over to pick up the swords.

?How about this; unless it is related to you, or I?m speaking aloud, don?t register my thoughts. It?ll be weird for you to respond to sub-conscious thoughts.
?Such as this; how do I holster these swords??

Lucas? mind started to fog over, as though he were drowsy. Observe, Liez?rial said, still using McAre?s voice.

His hands began to move on their own. He reset his grip on the swords, settling them in his hands as though he were going to actually use them.

With a bit of a flourish, he spun the blades around and held them in a reversed grip, tips pointing down and wings angled up. His wrists bent, folding the blades down along his forearms on the outside. Leaning his torso forward and ducking his head down, he presented his back to the sky and flexed his arms up, folding back at the elbows and sliding the blades across his back. The hilts caught in a pair of brackets, seizing against the armor. He released the hilts and straightened his arms out, causing the martingales to swing wide over his head and back. Standing up straight, the fog over his mind lifted. He wasn?t kept unaware of his own actions; instead, he observed them as though he were watching someone else.

?Well, that was interesting. Is that what it?s like to be held in your control, Puppet-master??

Call me Liez?rial. Puppet-master is a title the humans have come up with, not one of my own choosing. But yes, if I keep you conscious while I control your body, that?s precisely what it feels like. Obviously, I did just that, now. However, while you?re like that, it takes only a small amount of effort to be able to break some aspect of the control I have over you; you?ll still be able to speak, for instance, or maybe you?ll focus on your arms or legs instead and regain control of your body that way.
Of course, I could just knock you unconscious and control your body that way, too.
During actual combat, though, whenever you release the swords in a swing, I will take control of them. So long as you don?t strike an unyielding surface ? crystal, stone, thick wood ? I will force the blades to go through it, or at least to continue on their swing. If ever you find yourself needing to swing a blade in such a fashion, imagine the angle of the swing to be uninterrupted, regardless of what?s inside it. I will ensure that you always catch the blade where you expect it to end up. I will also maintain control over the wings while you?re in aerial combat; imagine where you want to go, and I?ll move you there. I will maintain such an intimate connection with your mind that you will notice no delay in your movements; outside of battle, however, you will have your privacy, and you will come to understand how to control the wings on your own. They will eventually feel like an extension of your body, as though the human system was meant to have such wings on it.
And before you ask, because several Pactios have, yes, I will keep you airborne and en route if you?re flying long distances and need to sleep. I will maintain your health, within reason ? you?ll still need to eat and rest occasionally, but you?ll find you?re more resistant to infection and extreme temperatures.


Lucas flexed his shoulders, feeling the weight of the blades hanging off his back. The wings attached to their hilts rustled slightly as the top joints on each rubbed against the other.

?I would like to practice controlling the wings before I learn swordplay. I?m not eager to kill anyone, unless I absolutely have to.?

I understand that much. As my Pactio, I present to you two choices; become an avatar to my will ? someone who will inspire people to follow you, and indirectly, me, and witness our acts. Eventually you will have a following, a group of people who could be fashioned into an army to attack the Maging Guilds head-on, or alternatively a group you can form into saboteurs, and infiltrate the Order of Seers with stealth. The other option is to become a saboteur yourself; since you have only minimal mage abilities of your own, the odds of you being discovered would be very high, and you?d be a short-lived Pactio.
I would personally prefer the icon choice. That will allow me more followers; more people to offer their faith and worship to me, and in turn increase my power. This way, I?ll be better able to support your army if the need arises.

?What do you have against the Maging Guilds??

The Inner Gods have become aware of a new power in control of the Maging Guilds ? their Order of Seers has been changed, altered, to meet the needs of the new master. This master is somehow masking his identity, location, plans, and actions from the Gods themselves; as he is now, there is no immediate danger to leaving him or her where they are, but if things continue as they are, Kaetir will undergo a chaotic period, and all of the Gods plans will become derailed and sent awry. They have requested of the Outer Gods that we uncover this person?s identity, and if possible put an end to their actions or their life. Someone able to hide from the Gods is a danger to their plans and to Kaetir itself.

Lucas sighed. ?And I?m supposed to be a match for that? I barely have telepathy, and I?m not a magus. The only thing I have going for me, really, is you. Maybe my nondescript appearance, as well.?

So you think. You have potential to be a magus; your mind can tap into the same energy ? the faith-mana ? that other Magus can use. In addition to acquainting yourself with the armor and flying, perhaps we should see if you couldn?t learn to use magic.

Lucas blinked. Never once did anyone ever sense any magic potential in him; his family, friends, teachers and tutors always sensed just his Mentalist traits, weak as they were. None had ever managed to find the dark spot in his mind that would signify the ability to bend magic to his will.
But, once he stopped and thought about it for a moment, who better than a God to detect magic?

He stretched his arms out experimentally; the martingales dangled harmlessly below his wrists, looping around to meet the blades on his back without wrapping around any of his limbs. He flexed his fists in their gauntlets; having never worn armor before, he had no basis for comparison, but they didn?t seem to be too restrictive. As he rolled his wrists around, the wings on the forearms began to slowly fan out, curling about, seemingly of their own accord. It took Lucas a moment to notice that they were presenting themselves to him as he wished to inspect them. Holding his wrist still, he tried flexing the empty space outside of his arm, the area the wing was occupying ? just beyond the exterior of his skin, as though he could feel another extension to his wrist, or ? as creepy as it made him feel ? another wrist on his wrist.

The wing flexed as he imagined it would, as though he were twisting his fingers around on another hand.

A wave of nausea stuck him. Dropping his hands to his side, he nearly sagged so much to the point of being unable to stand properly. Liez?rial instead took hold of his body, keeping him in a predominately upright position, slowly lowering him down into a sitting position on the bed.

It always takes some getting used to. I myself am no longer sure why exactly that upsets many of my Pactio?s, but seems to do so a great many times.

?I have control of something that isn?t physically attached to my body, yet I?m moving it in the same manner as I move my limbs. There?s an overpowering sense of wrongness when I look at it in motion, and know that I?m the one causing that. It?s unnatural, not right.?

The God was silent for a moment. Consider telekinetic Mentalists, then; they move things about as though they took it up in their own hands and swung it about. That is mostly how they are taught to use their telekinesis, actually. The trick is to remove those psychic hands from your mind and detach them from your body. They can get used to the feeling of ?wrongness? very quickly, the more they deal with their telekinesis. With time, you?ll get used to it.
Don?t forget, too, that you can always take off the armor if you want.


Lucas blinked, and rested his elbows on his knees. ?I thought your Pactio?s couldn?t remove the armor unless you let them??

No. That is false information; several of the manuscripts you have on the Gods are deliberately filled with some misinformation. Stop and think about it; would you really allow lists of your strengths, weaknesses, and general abilities to get around?

?How is being able to remove the armor at will a weakness??

If people only see you in flight, hovering in the air, with the helmet and facemask on, they won?t know what you look like or how tall you are without the armor. If you need to, I can simply Shift the armor away if you can duck out of sight of anyone pursuing you, and you can blend into the crowds. They won?t be able to track you, because my presence will mask yours, and I can even have the armor continue to fly away without you. There are things I have discovered work very well when I have a cooperative Pactio, and of course, still things I?m learning.

Lucas straightened out of his slouch and rose from the bed. Keeping his arms down at his sides, out of his sight, he strode to the door.

He turned his head to the side as he reached for the doors lever. He rationalized this by using his free hand to pull the black material that comprised the facemask out of the recession it rested in, at the top of the chest plate, and pulling it up over his nose.

It?ll take both hands to put the veil up. It has to rest on your ears, not your nose.

Lucas sighed, and strode out the now-open door. Abiding the God, he used both hands to loop the mask over his ears so it would rest snugly against his face. He did his best to keep his forearms twisted and the wings flattened against them so he couldn?t see them.

Do you still want to work with the wings, instead of the swords?

?This?ll be easier if you aren?t teasing me about this. And yes; because I?m so affected by them, I?d rather get over it now, rather than while I?m in-flight or fighting someone.?

Of course. Let us find the Cleric and ask about using the shrine grounds for acquainting ourselves to each other, shall we?





OH MY GOD THE FORMATTING AAAAAAUGH
I started tweaking this to be forum-friendly to the readers almost a half-hour ago.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Kasu on December 01, 2010, 01:18:14 AM
Seems to be getting more into the plot of the story now.

Keep up the awesome work. :3
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: MysTeariousYukari on December 01, 2010, 01:58:59 AM
Me like, me like ^_^ Now that I've found this, I'll be lurking for updates :D You have a loyal fan and audiance right here :D
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 02, 2010, 12:22:04 AM
Liez'rial is a typically formless God, and is one of the few Outer Gods who's managed to keep 'him'self from getting killed. Inner Gods aren't normally killed, as they're not normally in a corporeal form either, and rather just appoint a successor and retire themselves, turning mortal and living out a life on the surface of the planet in obscurity. Liez'rial, during ascension to God-hood, maintained 'his' fear of mortality, and as such never walks the earth for any longer than he really needs to, and never where you'd expect to find 'him'. I'm identifying 'him' the way I am because, truly, the gender and original identity of Liez'rial has been lost to time, he's just that ancient. Liez'rial, as you may notice, admits to no longer remembering anymore and crafting bodies for his earthly visits of either gender.



Lucas kept the swords sheathed in their brackets. He found it easier to control the wings attached to them if he thought of them as attached to his back, not the outer edge of his palms. Lifting off the ground was tricky enough; he didn?t need to actually move the wings, as birds and other winged animals did. Instead, he just stretched them out and Liez?rial would pull him skyward. Once he was airborne, the wings on the swords ? the Singing Wings, Liez?rial titled them ? stretched out and maintained balance and stability, while the other wings maintained lift.

Leaning forward was a nauseating act. He felt as though he?d topple over forward and plummet to the ground if he went too far; as a result, he tended to stretch one hand out in front of himself as he slid forward through the sky. He was bent at the knees, as though he were standing on top of two pillars, with one foot on each, and balancing between them. The flapping wings on his ankles ? the Sighing Wings, they were called ? caused his body to bob up and down slightly, but not enough to disorient him or to aggravate him. The Heaven?s Headpiece ? appropriately named for his helmet ? didn?t seem to affect him at all; he couldn?t tell if they were moving. According to Liez?rial, they adjusted and moved about fairly often, but didn?t ?flap? as much as his wrists or ankles did.

At Liez?rial?s urging, he began to try turning about in midair, whirling completely around and stopping himself when he ended up facing the direction he?d started in. It took him several tries to be able to turn without getting queasy, but once he?d gotten used to being suspended in midair while turning about like a literal puppet on strings, confident he wouldn?t drop out of the air, he quickly mastered the art and felt his queasiness ebb away. The feelings of perverse wrongness that he?d associated with the wings remained, however; it would be a while before he got used to having essentially eight more limbs attached to his body, and, while it didn?t feel wrong, having the constant presence of another beings? mind talking through his head was disconcerting, as well.

?We?re going to have to do something about your voice. Don?t you have a normal voice, one of your own?? Lucas asked, performing a lazy cartwheel through the air.

McAre?s voice answered him again, still from the God; This is a normal voice, isn?t it?

?No, that?s someone else?s voice. What about your voice? Liez?rial?s voice??

I have honestly forgotten what I sound like. I?ve crafted so many appearances for myself, spoken in so many tongues, and occupied both genders more times than you could imagine. The texts that say I?ve forgotten my true appearance are correct; that is not misinformation.

?Doesn?t that bother you, then? Not knowing your own identity??

I have an identity. I also enjoy studying other peoples? identities, and assuming the way they behave. I?ve actually crafted my appearance to match that of Lozenreald, once. That was rather amusing.

?What, confusing his followers or the God himself??

Liez?rial didn?t answer. Lucas began to turn over in the air, leaning slightly forward with his arms and legs trailing behind him. He was upside-down, facing the sky, when Liez?rial changed the subject.

You should really get acquainted with the wings. Stop trying not to look at them.

?I?m not as bothered by them as I was earlier. Indeed, just earlier when we were taking off, I was afraid my stomach would heave so hard my dinner from last night would leave us. Now, look how far I?ve come in just an hours worth of floating about.?

He straightened out from his roll and righted himself, pausing momentarily in a balanced pose. While he was confident Liez?rial wouldn?t let him drop from the sky, it was already a habit for him to spread his limbs out slightly as though he were balancing on a thin beam. Bowing forward at the waist, he rolled over and dove towards the ground. He enjoyed the slight moment of weightlessness before gravity kicked in, tugging him downward. He stretched one hand out in front of him, martingale whipping about erratically in the wind, and straightened the wing on his gauntlet ? one of the Iron Downs ? so it pushed his arm into an upward curve. Rather than let his arm trail away on its own, Lucas locked his elbow and shoulder and used that single wing to orient himself and level out of his drop, and he stretching the Singing Wings out as far as he could. As they caught the air underneath them, they billowed out and slowed his fall, instead turning it to a glide. He swung his legs down, pulling himself back into an upright position.

Rather than stopping once he was right side up again, he kicked his feet out in front and used the Sighing Wings to pull himself into a back flip. He bobbed slightly where he hovered, but was pleased to note that he didn?t actually sink too low from his spot in the air when he came out of his flip.

Impressive. And you barely had to use my influence to right yourself. Very nice, indeed.


?I imagined that the back-flip would?ve been a good idea to work on; if I?m going to be swinging swords on chains around, I?ll need circular movements more than I?ll need stationary, hovering tricks and maneuvers. Unless you want to show me the styles of your past Pactios??

Most of them used rotating, circular movements such as back flips and cartwheels and whirls such as that little stunt. Graf, however, wasn?t fond of throwing the blades as I?d intended for them to be used; instead, he just kept them in a solid grip and slashed with them as a normal soldier would. A very physical fighter, he was; more interested in overpowering his opponents and crushing them beneath the blades rather than keeping his distance. A very brusque fighter.

Lucas thought back to the night he helped the Clerics defend the Monastery. ?The most fighting I?ve ever done, before I stabbed Graf, was with a bow and arrow. I only shot one arrow, even.?

Then, you have much to learn, Lucas. Pray that you never need to use what I will teach you; but it?s best to be able to draw from your knowledge than to improvise when you?re under attack.

?I?d rather never be under attack.?

Indeed, wouldn?t we all?



McAre turned a page over in the text he was reading. It was a Lapizil family genealogy, the primary family that Lucas? was an offshoot of. The Lapizil family had a diverse line of Magus, from all three trees of study. The Lipira family ? Lucas? family ? was born off of a union between an Alteration Magus and a normal human, which caused the change of name and rejection from the Lapizil family. The Lapizil?s put a lot of weight into a persons birthright; standard humans, with no Mentalist or Magus traits, were often rejected, and any unions between a normal person and a Lapizil was usually forbidden, or in the Lipira?s case, removed from the family and ordered to change their name.

Throughout the years, it seems, the bias towards untalented people was still present, but not as prominent as it was in the Lapizil bloodline. Even though, the proliferation of untalented blood slowly became dominant, and most of the Lipiras were now weak Mentalists or low-powered Magus.

So, it wasn?t entirely too hard to believe that Liez?rial had detected some form of magic within Lucas. A God obviously had better means of sensing magic than humans would, so for someone so far removed from blood pre-disposed to magic could easily harbor talents that were fairly weak.

The Cleric sighed contentedly and sat back in the chair. Lucas? parents were both latent Mentalists, which explained his telepathy, and his father was the son of a pair of Magus.

?Found the missing link. Lucas will be pleased,? McAre said to himself, closing the genealogy chart.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 03, 2010, 09:04:36 AM
Damian would be played by Alan Rickman, because Alan Rickman has the presence and gravitas that a seasoned Paladin with one bad eye would be able to command, and it would give him a role that he wouldn't be type-casted into and give him an excuse to deliver lines in something more than a sinister, slow, meticulous drawl designed to scare the piss out of small children. Keroth would be played by Zach Braff. Why? Because.



Chapter 6

Damian took a deep breath, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. Keroth stepped up beside him, and mimicked him noisily.

?Mock it if you must, but I enjoy this pleasant weather. It?s a much-needed change from those dreary garrison dormitories.?

Keroth nodded. ?It is. I think the coast has missed us as much as we missed it,? he said, letting out a more modest sigh of contentment. ?I?m not sure about you, but I haven?t been back home since the Cleansing of the Air campaign.?

Damian shook his head. ?Keroth, you go where I go. You never went back because I never went back.?

The smaller man pondered that, still grinning slightly. ?Ah, yes,? he admitted. ?You know, considering the two of us, and how we are when we?re not fighting, you really wonder how we became the soldiers we both are today. You?re blind in one eye, and I?d lose my head if it weren?t screwed on.?

The taller Paladin shrugged. ?I lost the sight in my eye from the war, remember; there?s a very conspicuous scar going over it that mysteriously appeared around the same time I went blind. Could be from a sword, you think??

Keroth remained silent, instead opting to pick up his two cases and make an effort not to look directly at Damian. He still wore his grin, and chuckled lightly at his companion?s choice of words.

?I?ve been wondering, Keroth? we?ve never actually gone along these roads; we came into Rispaire with the Garrison March, through the mainland routes. Are you familiar with this stretch of land??

Keroth looked back at Damian. ?Uh, sir, I was following you.?

Damian sighed again.



There was a small, two-storied inn at a fork in the road that they?d stopped at, for rest. Keroth, still feeling energetic, opted instead to run an errand for the lady of the inn as exchange for letting them stay the day. Damian took the time to catch up on the gossip of the area and the locals? opinions and feelings towards the royal families. Out of armor or in, he was always a keen observer of details, and kept his ears open for any new information.

Keroth?s task took him further down the northward road, into a small township that was more farmlands than it wasn?t. Several windmills dotted the terrain, keeping the need to ship raw grain across any great distances. The town had only a handful of Magus, several of which were Clerics.
As he strode along the side of the road, Keroth smiled warmly at passersby and folk tending to the plots of land surrounding their houses along the path.

As he came upon another fork in the road, one lane leading into further country, and the other into the town proper ? the path he had to follow to get to the mill he was headed to ? he came across a young woman laying on the curled up belly of an oversized traveling wolf, playing a harp and humming softly. The wolf raised its head and looked at Keroth as he approached, curling around closer to the girl and flattening its ears slightly.

Keroth raised his hand in greeting, offering a slight wave. The girl looked back up at him, and nodded in return, but did not stop humming or playing the harp. Something told Keroth to stop for a moment, and he did, stepping to the opposite side of the intersection from the wolf and the girl.

Large wolves such as this one were commonplace in larger cities, and a staple mount of cavalry troops. To see one in a remote farming village such as this, the girl was obviously traveling to or from Rispaire, or one of the cities between the coasts. However, such a large wolf was rather unusual.

He stood as the girl pluck at the harp skillfully. He didn?t bask in the music, but he did listen intently.

The wolf never took its gaze off of Keroth, slowly pulling its head closer to its tail, surrounding the musician with its body. The girl must have owned the wolf since it was a pup for it to be as loyal and cautious as it was behaving.

?What is it you want?? a gruff voice finally asked. The girl remained humming and playing her harp.
Keroth blinked, looking around. No one else was in the immediate area, and the voice was definitely male. He looked back at the wolf, raising an eyebrow and pointing at himself.

The wolf nodded once.

Keroth dug at his ear, shaking his head rapidly to clear it. A talking wolf? Some wild wolves developed with a sort of Mentalist ability ? they had a literal pack mind, able to keep contact with others in their pack over large distances, making them fierce hunters with excellent teamwork and perfect situational awareness. But, a talking wolf? Never.

?Trickery once used will be lost when twice the trickster does accost,? the girl sang, slowly reducing the tempo at which she played her harp. She slowly rose to her feet, still lightly plucking at the harp. Once she was completely on her feet, she stepped out from the curl of the large wolf and the lupine beast rose to its own feet.

With one last pull across the entire harp, she lowered the instrument to her side and tucked it into the crook of her arm.

The wolf behind her reared up onto its hind legs, flailing its forelegs wildly in the air.

Keroth blinked in surprise, and started to dash across the street to pull the girl away from the toppling wolf.

Before he made it halfway across the street, the girl stepped aside and a dark-haired man, younger than Keroth but obviously older than the girl, stepped alongside her and placed his hand on her shoulder. His other arm hung limp at his side, his wrist purpling over with bruises.

?Can we help you?? he asked. This time not as gruff or husky as the first time the question was applied to Keroth, but it still had enough similarities that it was obvious the man had asked him the first time.

Keroth skipped to a stop, a small cloud of dust obscuring his feet in the process.

?You?re a Magus?? he asked, looking back and forth between the two.

The girl shook her head. ?No, I?m only a telepath. He?s the Magus.?

?The name is Acied. This is Sara. Can we help you??

Keroth shook his head. ?I just? the large wolf, and the music. Wasn?t exactly used to seeing something like that, especially not a wolf so large. The wolf was you??

Acied nodded. ?It?s how we travel. I shape-shift, she rides me.?

?The music is your condition?? Keroth asked. Acied nodded; just as Keroth needed to have skin contact with another person, Acied apparently needed music to access his magic.

Sara wrapped her free arm around Acied?s shoulder and gave him a soft squeeze.

?Unfortunately, Acied doesn?t have the same reflexes as a real wolf ? he took a tumble in some uneven farm ground and twisted his front leg around. As a wolf, he has a better pain tolerance and healing factor ? that?s why we keep him as a wolf.?

?I imagine Sara enjoys it, too, because a wolf?s fur is probably warmer than my simple coat. Unless we can help you, or you can help us, I?d rather go back to being a wolf.?

Keroth stepped forward, and held his hand out, indicating Acied?s wrist. The other man held it up for his inspection.

Keroth took it into his hand, pushing the sleeve of the other man?s coat back further up the arm with his free hand.

?It looks a bit nasty, but I?m sure it?ll heal up within an hour, maybe less.? Keroth took his hands off Acied?s arm.

?And, that would be the nature of my magic. Try not to worsen the wound until then.?

Acied looked at the Paladin dubiously, and then eyed his wrist. ?You?re not a Cleric, otherwise you would?ve healed it immediately. How can I be sure, then, that it will work??

Keroth grinned. ?Because I have no idea how long it?ll really take for a wound like that to heal. Ignorance is my magic,? he said, bowing slightly.

Sara giggled. A grin tugged at the corner of Acied?s mouth, and he flexed his wrist slowly. ?Still sore,? he said.

Keroth slowly pushed Acied?s wrist down to his side. ?I didn?t say immediately, I said in about an hour. And I wouldn?t recommend shape-shifting before than; I?m not sure how your magic will affect mine.?
Sara smiled, and let her eyes droop half-shut. ?Just as well, I could use a break. I?ve been playing for several hours already, I want to take a nap.?

Keroth let a wide smile spread across his face. ?My companion and I are staying at an inn just a short distance back the way I came ? if you?re headed towards the coast, we?d be happy to have you along for the ride. I just have to run a small errand for the innkeeper to pay for our stay ? and even then, we?ve only requested to stay for the day. I?m sure we could stay longer if you wish to stay the night,? he offered.

Sara?s smile spread warmly across her face, and she leaned heavily on Acied?s shoulder.

The man looked at his younger companion. ?I suppose I have no choice, then. We will wait here until you finish your errand, then you can lead us to the inn.?

Keroth nodded, and hurried down the road towards one of the larger mills.



It wasn?t until an hour and a half later that the Paladin returned to where they were sitting once again, along the side of the road. Acied had given his coat to Sara, his larger coat dwarfing the petite girl as she leaned against him, eyes closed and breathing easily.

?I didn?t think an errand for an innkeeper could take so long,? Acied said as Keroth strode up, thick satchel slung across his back.

?It wouldn?t, if I knew which mill exactly I was going to,? Keroth replied. Sara blinked her eyes open at the sound of their voices, and leaned off of Acied. Keroth smiled at her, and held his hands out to help both of the travelers up.

Acied reached up to take his hand, and looked at his wrist in surprise. The purpled bruises were gone.

?I suppose it worked; I?m indebted to you, my friend.
?You know, you never told us your name,? he said, as Keroth pulled him to his feet.

The Paladin blinked. ?I haven?t, have I? My name is Keroth Oberos, Paladin of the Sanctuary, and Guardian of the Guilds. Pleasure to meet you,? he bowed slightly at the waist.

Acied blinked. ?A Paladin? There are still organizations of Paladins? I thought the lot of you retired after massacring the Zealots??

Sara dug her elbow into Acied?s side. ?Obviously he?s not actively fighting; do you see any armor on him? Have you seen any caravans dotting the roads??

Keroth grinned. ?My companion and I are traveling because we excused ourselves from the Rispaire Maging Guild garrison. We had some disagreements with the Guild master and how they wanted to run the garrison.?

Acied reached into the pocket of his coat, still on Sara, and pulled out a short strap. He clipped the strap to Sara?s harp and hung it over his shoulder, then dropped to one knee and flared his arms out slightly. Sara leaned against his back, and he wrapped his arms around her legs, holding her against him. Acied rose to his feet and turned to Keroth.

?Lead the way, then,? he said, shuffling slightly to cause Sara to settle into a more comfortable grip.

Keroth grinned again. ?Each with our charges, then. This way, to the Wolfs? Grin Inn,? he said.

Acied stopped and looked at him. ?Seriously??

Keroth laughed. ?No. I just made that up. We?re going to the Winding Road Rest.?

Sara giggled into Acied?s back. ?This wolf never grins, not like that,? she sighed.

Acied grunted, and trundled after Keroth.




Acied and Sara were both designed after me, as separate representations of the two divisions of my own personality - the Yin and Yang of Esi. Acied is the masculine one, with the shorter-than-average patience and attention span, the stubborn drive, and the lack of immediate trust but fierce loyalty once that trust is earned. Sara is the more easy-going and fun-loving aspects of me that are typically suppressed or carefully guarded, the part that wears its heart on its sleeve for all the world to see.
Ideally, I'd play the role of Acied, simply because he is physically described best as... me ;o
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Kasu on December 03, 2010, 11:13:39 PM
Never really got around to reading that fic, so that is quite the interesting way to create an original character.  I like what you did. :3
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 04, 2010, 06:22:48 AM
Reginald Heighler would be played by Christopher Eccleston. No, Heighler never utters 'fantastic'.



Damian set his tankard down. He wasn?t fond of strong alcohol, but on a long journey like this, he typically started to crave something stiff. After asking about for local opinions, and being stonewalled by the farmers? disinterest in the Maging Guilds many times, he finally found a new rumor. Apparently, there was an upswing in this generation, many new Magi being discovered.

Damian never went into the Maging Guild proper, so he never saw exactly how large the student population was.

The Paladins of Aubernat were composed of the best combat Magus? that could be culled from Aubernat?s followers; out of half a continents? worth of soldiers, only three battalions could be formed of Magus Paladins. Aubernat himself, in all his ego and splendor, helped train several of the Paladins, including Damian and Keroth. That was how Damian learned the true nature of his magic, and how to properly unlock it.

Keroth pushed the door open and strode in, long legs carrying him quickly through the threshold. A man followed him in, harp around his neck and a younger lady lying across his back, legs looped through the crook of his arms.

Keroth raised his hand in a general wave, and continued through the lobby without pausing, instead pulling the satchel off his shoulders and carrying it through another door that lead to the back kitchens.
The man that followed him in opened his mouth slightly, and closed it instead and walked to the cushioned bench near the door. There, he lowered the girl off his back and onto the bench, where she slumped and lazily rubbed at her eyes, and finally heaved a yawn.

Damian rose from his stool at the bars? end, and walked to the bench. The man was still crouched down in front of the young girl, pulling the harp off from around his neck and resting one hand on the girls? leg.

?Damian Kalad. Do you need a hand?? he said, offering his hand forward in greeting.

?Acied Nearl. We?re all right, thanks for the offer, though. We?re waiting for the Paladin and his companion to come back, though; we owe him for helping my wrist heal.?

Damian blinked. Keroth healed them? He must?ve come up with a rather interesting phrase to apply to his magic.

?Well, there?re only two Paladins here; I?ve checked. Keroth and I are in transit to the far coast, after ??

?Having disagreements with the Guild master. He explained it to us on the way here; for some reason, I was expecting a woman, the way he kept referring to ?his companion?.

?This is Sara Treffhr. We?re traveling as well, no particular destination. The sleeping beauty is a musician ? talented, too, if I do say so myself.?

Damian observed the sleepy girl. To his tastes, she seemed rather bland ? not ugly, but not beautiful to him.

Acied continued talking. ?I imagine the best way for me to pay Keroth back is for me to help you travel. Traveling wolf.?

Damian looked to the door, then back to Acied. ?Did you ride it here? I don?t imagine Keroth would?ve taken that long to get back from a mill only a mile away,? he said.

?Keroth went to the wrong mill first. And, no, we didn?t ride the wolf. I am the wolf ? shape-shifting Magus.?

Damian blinked again. ?Only into a wolf?? Acied shook his head.

?Anything I can imagine. I?ve done a few transformations into flying creatures, aquatic ? which doesn?t work, because I need to hear music to stay transformed ? and other people. It?s very handy magic.?

?I imagine so.?

Sara yawned again, then leaned over onto her side and stretched out across the bench. Acied put the harp on the bench next to her and perched himself on the edge of the bench, keeping himself within arms reach.

Keroth came back out of the backroom-and-kitchen area, minus the satchel he had when he came back into the inn. ?Damian, I want you ? ah, you?ve already met them, I suppose. Acied and Sara, meet Damian Kalad, companion and compatriot to Keroth Oberos,? he declared, walking over and taking up post to the side and behind Damian.

Acied looked up at him. ?Sara?s falling asleep, and Damian introduced himself already. Thanks for formalizing it, though, and all the pleasantries required therein.

?Whenever you two are ready to move out, and Sara is awake, I?m ready to go.?

Damian and Keroth glanced at each other. ?We were intending to leave before sunset, to try to make a good pace to the coast, but if you?re able to help us travel farther and faster in one day??

??then we can leave tomorrow, after a nights? rest,? Damian finished for Keroth.

Acied nodded. ?Do we have a room??

Keroth nodded. ?And this time, I had the foresight to ask for two separate rooms.? Damian slapped himself in the forehead with an exasperated sigh, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ?two beds?.

When Acied looked back and forth between the two, Damian simply stated, ?It?s a long story,? and walked back to his stool and abandoned mug.

Keroth grinned widely at Damian?s discomfort.

?It?s going to be interesting, traveling with you two, isn?t it?? Acied asked.

Keroth?s grin split into a broad smile.



The next day found them with no incident. Sara was out in the lobby before the two Paladins came downstairs, where they found her playing her harp softly for the other early risers. Two children were sitting at her feet, listening intently as she played; their mother sat at a table, with a steaming cup in front of her.

When Sara spotted the men, she nodded in greeting and started to bring her song through a decrescendo, marking its end. The children smiled up at her and clapped politely, then rose up and scrambled to their mother.

Damian signaled for Sara to remain seated, and he and Keroth joined her.

?Acied isn?t awake yet. He stayed up for a fairly long time, I guess; carrying me here, watching over me until we were in a room, and then finally winding down. Plus, he sleeps like a log, but you can wake him up kinda quick if you dump him out of bed.
?But, I can?t push him, he?s too big for me to move by myself. You should come help me,? she said, plucking absently at her harp. Keroth chuckled, and rose out of his seat, offering his hand forth to help Sara out of hers.

Damian remained at the table, waving over a waiter-maid for a cup of coffee. He took a swig of it while groping around beside his chair for his bag; he didn?t need anything from it, but instead just wanted to reconfirm its presence.

When he didn?t find it, he looked down to his side. One of the children had sat down next to him and was hugging his bag.

The bag was still closed, but Damian could see the shape of his rigid gauntlets poking out of the opposite side of the bag.

The kid was looking up at him, but her eyes were glazed and unfocused.

?You?ve been fighting a lot, lots of people, then teaching a bunch too. Why haven?t you gone home in a while?? she asked up at him.

Damian let his focus wander. This girl was apparently a touch-contact historian Magus; the Maging Guilds usually kept a few such Magi trained and in contact, if not living in the Guild Dormitories, so they could identify relics and artifacts, as well as check a person?s history.

He leaned over and looked at the girl, her eyes now in focus on him. ?I?ve been working for a long time.? He took another draw from his mug, and then held it away from the girl, across his chest. His hand was closed in a fist over his heart; the necessary position for his magic to unlock. ?You should stay with your mother, listen to her. And have fun while you?re traveling,? he commanded.

The girl?s eyes swam out of focus again, and she nodded and climbed to her feet, leaving his bag undisturbed. She wandered back to her mother, and sat next to her and began playing with the train of her skirt as it hung over the side of her chair. The mother absently dropped one hand and patted her daughter on the head, continuing to drink slowly from whatever was steaming in her mug.

When Damian turned back to his own table, he found Keroth standing opposite of him, chuckling.

?On such a young child, too, Damian. Do you not like children?? he asked.

Damian shook his head. ?She?s a touch-contact Magus, who can read histories. If she had touched me, and seen the fighting we?ve done, such a young mind could be traumatized ? or at least she?d be scared witless of me.
?Where?s Acied??

Keroth waved his hand lazily towards the stairs. ?Sara jumped onto the bed and started yelling for him to wake up, and I rolled him over the edge. After he tumbled down, Sara started beating him with a pillow, and I figured she could handle it from there.? He reached down and took Damian?s mug of coffee, and took a long draw from it.

When he put it down, Damian had one eyebrow cocked and was inspecting him fiercely.

?You could?ve gotten your own,? he said.

Keroth immediately snapped to attention, but instead of saluting, he held his fist over his heart, as though he were Damian, unlocking his magic. ?Sir, this is what you forgot to do, sir!?

Damian took his mug and wrapped both his hands around it. ?Stay away from my coffee.?

Keroth laughed again.

?You lot are too noisy, this early in the morning,? Acied grumbled as he came down the stairs. Sara was following behind him, flicking his hair back and forth. He swatted at her hand, and sauntered to the door. ?I suppose we?re ready to go?? he asked.

Keroth looked him over. ?You and Sara don?t have any bags??

Sara shook her head. ?We travel with just the clothes we have, and some money to pay for food as we go along. If necessary, he can shape-shift into something smaller and eat a tiny portion, then shape-shift back and be satiated.?

Damian let out a slight whistle. ?Impressive.? He rose from his chair, and gathered his bag up. As he made his way towards the door, the young girl stood up and waved at him. ?Bye-bye, Damy!? she called after him.

Keroth nearly ran into Damian?s back as he stopped in surprise, albeit only for a second.

?You all right, Damian?? he asked.

?My mother used to call me Damy. Didn?t expect the girl to be able to pick that up from just my bag,? he said.

Keroth clapped his shoulder. ?Not to worry, Damy. We?re headed home, you can visit her when we get there.?

Damian nodded, and followed in Acied?s wake through the door.

Outside, Sara was already plucking at her harp, checking to make sure it was in tune, and Acied had removed his coat. Once Sara confirmed that her harp had not in fact gone out of tune since she played in the inn?s dining room, she took Acied?s coat and put it on.

?So, then, something big enough for three passengers and luggage. Got it.?

He began to flex his arms, stretching lazily.

?For far they fly, with the raven?s cry, take to the shores, and match the Angel?s wings in their glory,? Sara began to sing, strumming at her harp energetically. She didn?t continue singing, but she began to play the harp skillfully and rapidly.

Acied stretched both his arms upwards, and then lurched forward. He seemed to elongate rapidly, and before Damian could fully register it, he was replaced by a large winged? something. It had four legs, a long neck, and bony protrusions on its back and a twisted crest around its head. The wings were folded along its sides.

He turned around and bowed his head down in front of Sara, and she climbed over his neck and wrapped her legs around the crest. Once she was seated on his neck, Damian could see that the crest was formed to give her a firm, secure seat near his head, where the sloped ears could hear the harp. After she?d climbed on, he swung his head around to look at the Paladins, and knelt down with his left legs.

?Climb aboard, and hold your bags in your lap, hugged to your chest. The crests on my back should be just wide enough for you to sit.? Acied?s voice was much deeper, and Damian could feel his chest rumble from the vibrations.

Keroth began laughing heartily as he climbed up the side of Acied. ?And here I was expecting just a very large wolf, I never thought we?d actually be flying!?

Damian nodded. ?This is new. Never flown before, not even with the Paladins.?

Acied turned back to look forward. ?Hang on; when I kick off, it gets bumpy!?

Keroth and Damian hugged their satchels to their chests and leaned forward across Acied?s back. The large leathery wings stretched out, and the massive form that Acied had taken on rocked back.

With a fierce kick, Acied leapt away from the ground and they went hurtling skywards.

Keroth kept laughing as they sped away from the inn. Astonished farmers and travelers looked up in surprise as their shadow crossed over them.

?To the coastline, then!? Acied called out, heavy voice carrying easily in the wind.




Keroth wouldn't actually be played by Zach Braff, that was me being stupid(er than the rest of the imaginary cast designations). Instead, it'd be David Tennant.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 05, 2010, 01:59:07 AM
The Monastery that McAre is in charge of is situated in the countryside, in the middle of some farmlands. Lucas' family is one of said farm-families. It has its own small bit of acreage for it's own crops, though as of late they only grow grapes there for wine-production, and export the wine so they can fill their coffers, as the local farmers always contribute to the shrine in exchange for some wine and the services of the Clerics dwelling there. This isn't ever mentioned in the story, but now you know :D



McAre stood to the side of the path that stretched between the road and the shrine, scanning the skies slowly for the tiny form of Lucas in his winged armor.

The young man had turned out to be a very proficient flier. He seemed to be more at ease with flying now, than he had when he first took on the armor. Each day, for the last three days since he became a Pactio, he?d been flying and practicing with the swords. After some initial trouble transitioning between walking and flying, he had mastered the art and began to hover off the ground as much as he walked. He kept the wings from flapping most of the time, instead gliding around easily as though he suffered from no friction.

Once he spotted the tiny spot that was Lucas streaming about through the clouds, McAre started waving his arms in broad sweeping patterns, calling out as loud as he could for Lucas to come down.
Despite Lucas? altitude, he rolled over and began to drop towards the shrine.

Gravity started to pulled Lucas down faster, and he plummeted towards McAre at a rapid clip, but once the Cleric could start to see individual limbs on the younger man, the wings began to flare out and he started to slow.

As Lucas dropped to the ground, he swung his legs beneath him and stopped falling a scant few feet from the ground by flaring the largest wings on his back. Once he stopped all downward momentum, and had oriented himself upright, he collapsed the ankle and wrist wings against the armor and dropped straight to the ground.

?Yeah, McAre? Needed me?? he said.

The Cleric strode closer to where the youth had landed, and clasped his hands behind his back.

?Lucas, you?ve been here for a solid four days now. Have you spoken with your parents yet? Explained what has happened??

Lucas blinked, and then pulled the mask down off his face. ?No, no I haven?t. I probably should, shouldn?t I??

McAre smiled. ?And you can?t say it?s a long walk. Not anymore. Go ahead. I?ll keep the room you?ve been using open, in case you decide to come back.?

Lucas stepped back and nodded. The Singing Wings flared out from behind his back to herald the opening of the other six wings. He crouched slightly, and then jumped up with a solid beat of each wing. The draft generated by the sudden leap caused McAre?s tabard and robe to billow around him.

Rather than immediately bolting to the sky, Lucas stayed at about half his height above the ground, looking down at McAre. ?I?m surprised at myself. I never thought to tell them, thank you for reminding me, sir.?

With that, he turned around in place and launched away from the ground, only the Singing Wings beating against the air.

McAre turned around on his own and started to stride back towards the shrine, just in time to see a shadow pass over him and race ahead to the Monastery. He looked up and only caught a vague shape drop into the middle courtyard.

His bell began to shake and pull towards the shrine.

?Again with the courtyard? Doesn?t anyone ever use the front door??



Lucas had seen the shadow, as well, and rolled over and turned back to glide back to the shrine. His launch had sent him away from the shrine at such a high speed that he couldn?t stop and turn immediately. When he had looped back, he spotted something drop into center courtyard.

Wonder what that was.

He looped around above the shrine, looking down into the central courtyard. This late in the day, the sun had sunk low enough to cast a shadow across the atrium. There was movement within; he could see that much.

Rather than try to guess at it, he dropped down to the roof of the shrine, and set down on his own feet. The Iron Downs and Sighing Wings curled around the armor to lay flat, and the Heaven?s Headpiece flattened against his head.

He walked to the edge and crouched down, peering in. Four people were milling about, two with satchels and one with a small curved piece of metal looped under their arm.

One of the ones with a satchel wandered around the perimeter of the courtyard, examining the statues of the Inner Gods dotting the walls. He looped his satchel over his shoulder and began to walk around on the interior side of the railing that separated the covered walkway that circled the courtyard and the exposed grass that made up the majority of the courtyard.

As he came to the northwest corner and began to turn, the door to the western wing opened. McAre strode through, and stopped at the railing. ?Four of you? That?s interesting. Welcome to our Shrine of the Outer Gods; I?m the senior Cleric, Ian McAre.
?I?m interested in finding out how you came into the center courtyard, and further interested in finding out why everyone seems to come through here?? he trailed off with his musing.

The other person laden with a satchel glanced across the courtyard at McAre. ?What was that??

McAre shook his head and waved his hand, gesturing the question aside. ?Could I interest you in a room, or are you visiting us to pay homage to the Outer Gods??

The only person not laden with anything raised his hand slightly, to get McAre?s attention.

?I?m willing to spend some time devoting to Azierxin.?

McAre blinked, and his jaw opened slightly agape. ?Of course. She is an Inner Goddess, however ? we have no distinct statues or artifacts to aid in your focus, but I will not hinder you.?

Lucas blinked. ?Azierxin? Who is that??

One of the Inner Goddesses. That a human is aware of her is surprising ? many of the Magi don?t believe in such a thing as mana. Only some of the higher Clerics know of her, and even then only ones like McAre, ones who run shrines such as this.
She maintains the flow of faith-mana that you humans can tap into.


?Faith-mana??

Consider an elemental mage. They hold their hand out, and you suddenly have fire. They obviously don?t have any fuel to burn for this fire, nor is it sparked by anything. Where did it come from? Unless they?re pulling the fire from somewhere else, which isn?t elemental magic, they must create it on the spot.
The only form of energy that can be created in the universe is faith-mana. The faith-mana can be exchanged by the mage to create fire. Azierxin works to process that faith-mana and keep it regulated, to keep the mage from accidentally making an inferno instead of a fireball. You humans are very talented at turning down your consumption of mana, but you don?t show any restraint when it comes to starting your magic. Without Azierxin, every time the mage wants to start up his fire, he?d be liable to cause a violent explosion.
Once the energy has been created, it must be used for magic ? it cannot be readily destroyed. The faith-mana/magic exchange consumes the mana, and the magic will become expended by the magus using it. Once the magic wears out, the faith-mana has been consumed and must be created again.
Luckily, there is a vast abundance of you humans on the planet, and you?re all capable of creating faith-mana. The Gods can tap into the faith-mana to put it to use crafting and guiding the planet.


A female?s voice sounded. ?Who?s that, up there??

Lucas blinked his eyes into focus and realized that the four visitors were now looking up at him, and the person ? evidently a girl ? with the loop of curved metal was pointing at him.

The two men with the satchels looked up at him and dropped their bags. The one at the northwestern corner grabbed at his waist, and drew two pointed daggers from sheaths concealed along his thighs, while the larger man slipped his satchel open and reached into it.

Lucas stood upright, and flared the wings on the helm and greaves out, raising himself off the roof and hovering slightly, getting ready to turn about and dash away from the atrium. He wasn?t interested in taking a dagger to the chest.

The larger man blinked, and released his hand and drew it out of his satchel.

?Keroth, stand down. I didn?t think we?d run into Liez?rial again, but there he is,? he said.

Keroth straightened out, and relaxed his arms. He didn?t sheath his daggers, though.

Surprised at this, Lucas remained hovering for a moment before McAre finally called out, ?Come on down here.?

Lucas eased himself forward over the edge of the roof, and the Iron Downs unwrapped themselves from his wrists.

The girl let out a small ?Ooo,? of fascination at Lucas? gentle downward glide, and the two armed men relaxed completely. The final unknown man turned to McAre.

?Who is that?? he asked. McAre smiled at him and clasped his arms behind his back.

?Who are they, rather. I?d like you to meet Lucas and Liez?rial.?

?The Outer God, Liez?rial?? the man looked back up at Lucas, who was now inside the courtyard proper and only three meters off the ground.

Lucas nodded. ?The same. I?m as surprised as you are.?

The taller fighter stepped towards Lucas, and raised his hand in greeting.

?It?s been a while, Liez?rial. You seem a bit different, though,? he said.

Lucas dropped the last meter to the ground without the aid of the wings, landing heavily in front of the tall fighter.

?I think you?re mistaking me for Liez?rial?s last Pactio. He just recently took me on as his new possessor.? Lucas held his hand out to the large warrior.

?Lucas Lipira, representing Liez?rial.?

?Damian Kalad, Paladin of the Sanctuary, Guardian of the Guilds.?

Lucas had the advantage of his shroud covering his face; his slight frown etched lines of worry. He?s from the Guild?

Liez?rial responded quickly. Not everyone in the Guilds are corrupt. I fought with Damian, and his companion, Keroth, in the Cleansing of the Air. They are soldiers first, guardians second.

Lucas nodded as he shook Damian?s hand. ?Pleasure to meet you, although you?ve already met Liez?rial. I?m hoping then, that I can sit down with you and Keroth, talk with you two about your work with Liez?rial.?

Keroth blinked at his name. ?Couldn?t you just ask Liez?rial??

The girl ?Ooo?d again as Lucas turned his head to face Keroth, wings on the helm still flared out.

?I could ask, but then I wouldn?t know if the answers are biased or not.?

McAre cleared his throat, cutting off any further reply.

?If I am to let you stay here, I must at least know your names. Obviously, you, sir, are Damian, and you are Keroth, but the other two are still a mystery.?

The girl pulled the loop of metal out from under her arm, and Lucas saw that it was in fact a harp. She dragged one finger along it slowly, producing an ascending scale of music.

?I am Sara, a musician who travels with Acied, the young gentleman who isn?t burdened with anything there.
?He?s not even carrying my harp anymore, either,? she said with a huff.

The last man, Acied, chuckled and bowed his head slightly in chagrin as he strode over to the girl, shrugging his coat off and trading it off for the harp.

McAre smiled broadly. ?Well, then, Lady and Gentlemen, may I escort you into the Shrine proper?? He looked pointedly at Lucas. ?I?m afraid I?m going to have to ask all Pactios and Outer Gods to report back to their family, however,? his tone was a bit severe, as though he were scolding a child for falling out of a tree several times, never learning the lesson.

Lucas scoffed, and nodded. Rather than replying, he bent at the knees and opened all eight of his wings. With a powerful jump and another hard beat of his wings, he flew up to the opening of the courtyard, stopping just below the level of the second floors ceiling.

?I?ll be back later, McAre. I don?t know where I?ll end up going, but I?ll let you know before I do.? With that, he turned about and pulled away from the Shrine quickly.

Sara watched him go, and turned to follow McAre into the shrine proper. ?You guys were talking like there were two of them ? all I saw was a mage in armor,? she said.

Acied turned slightly and looked over his shoulder at her. ?The armor is the God. Lucas, the young man who was talking wears the armor and controls it to a degree, while the God that possess the armor takes control for more fine-control movement. I?m not sure about Lucas being a mage, though, but I?m sure it?d help handle the armor.?

McAre, who was striding ahead of the group, leading them through the shrine to the dormitory wing, smiled to himself.

?Lucas is a Magus ? we just don?t know what kind. He?s never been to the Maging Guilds, and he hasn?t stumbled across his condition, either.?

?The lot of us are Magi, with the exception of the young lady. Seems we?re all Alteration mages, too,? Keroth mused.

Damian frowned, but before he could say anything, Acied cut him off and said exactly what was on his mind.

?I do believe no one asked us, and for being a soldier, you probably shouldn?t be so free with your status.?

Keroth loosed a single bark of laughter. ?I never said what we do and how we do it, just that we?re all Alteration mages. Besides, I don?t think the Clerics here are going to attack us, and regardless of magic type, they can nullify it. No harm has been done, I believe.?

Damian shook his head.



A gathering, of sorts. Meet the core group of Liez'rial's champions.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Kasu on December 05, 2010, 03:56:23 PM
Sweet.  Looks like a good chunk of the main characters are together now.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 06, 2010, 07:43:54 PM
Between slicing out the last post and this one, because I'd thought I'd already grabbed a LOT for anyone to read in a single post, I cut off this little bit, which is a tiny chunk before the next chapter begins. Whoops.



Lucas lazily glided through the air, going through a simple arc in the clouds. Although the Shrine was visible as a small dot on the horizon from his home, he was enjoying flight and felt like taking his time.

Liez?rial picked up on this. Anything wrong?

?I just like flying.?

Is that all?

Lucas considered, staying silent. ?I?m not sure. I?m a bit apprehensive about how my parents will react to my suddenly becoming a Pactio. I know they will be proud of my devotion to the Gods, but I don?t think they?ll understand everything about what it means to become a Pactio.?

If you would like, you can explain to them how I can assume control of your body and explain it for you.

?And make them think that I?ve been removed, and turned into a puppet of a God? No, I think it would be best if I could represent you as another entity, not someone who can snatch my own body away from me on a whim.?

Indeed, that could be troublesome, and cause an undue amount of grief. Perhaps, then, you should say that you?ve gained the armor, and control over it, as a reward for being my Pactio. Are they as familiar with my abilities as you are?

Lucas smiled to himself. ?Our family, for the past three generations, has had a sort of? tradition, when it comes to worship. My grandparents worshipped the Outer Gods, my parents worship the Inner Gods, and??

?you worship the Outer Gods. That?s an interesting way to consider things. Your family seems rather pious.


?I don?t remember the exact deity it was, but an Outer God saved my grandparents ? and several others ? during an unforeseen side affect to some of Baedlius? work. There was a landslide during the formation of a shrine on the top of a mountain they lived below; an Outer God was nearby, and he teleported the entire settlement to the opposite side of the mountain. In doing so, he exhausted nearly all his essence, and was turned into a normal mortal; the villagers only realized he had done it when he suddenly became corporeal in the middle of their village and collapsed.
?When they finally realized it was this God who?d saved them, their collected faith and gratitude towards him empowered him again and he was able to recover his Outer God status. My grandparents and the rest of the villagers at that time decided to become his followers, all for one, and my parents? generation took it upon themselves to worship the Inner Gods. From this story, my parents instructed me to take to worshipping Outer Gods.?

Sithenth is very clever indeed, then. Your grandparents lived in the village of Debirte, didn?t they?


Lucas blinked. ?Yes, they did. Why??

Sithenth is the Trickster God. He wasn?t nearly as exhausted as he let on ? although, I don?t doubt that he did deplete a lot of his energy. But, Shifting things is not really much of a drain on a God. By appearing to act out of selflessness, he inspired the villagers of Debirte to worship him, swelling the ranks of his followers and expanding his power supply.

?Sly bastard.?

Trickster God.

Lucas grinned and rolled over sideways, losing altitude and gaining speed. He turned and glided along through the air, angling towards the house he considered home.




We're about to introduce my favorite character duo - yeah, the Paladins are interesting, but The Summoner just takes the cake. Unfortunately, with what I have typed up so far, she doesn't get many appearances yet, but her role in the story gets to be pretty big.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Kasu on December 06, 2010, 11:56:22 PM
Something tells me that the 'Sly Bastard' thing is gonna be a recurring joke. :3
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: MysTeariousYukari on December 07, 2010, 03:34:00 AM
Something tells me that the 'Sly Bastard' thing is gonna be a recurring joke. :3

Something tells me your right :3
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 07, 2010, 05:32:07 AM
This character coming up, Isatere Reib, is in my top three favorites for this story so far. Her magic involves summoning up constructs - of any shape or number. Said constructs are pretty much arrogant in how they flaunt their lack of obedience towards the laws of physics. Unbeknownst to her, she's also one of the Inner Goddesses, who resurrects every time she dies, with the same abilities and personalities, but no memories. She's a stop-gap measure in case some kind of cataclysm knocks off all the major pantheon of Gods; if the head God, Baedlius is injured (he can't be killed, either), Isatere goes into auto-pilot mode and summons up new Gods.
While most of the actor referrals were a bit silly, in Isatere's case, I earnestly want you to imagine her as Mary Elizabeth McGlynn (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Elizabeth_McGlynn), or the woman who does as much English VA work as Johnny Yong Bosch (Major Kusanagi in GitS, Princess Cornelia in Code Geass).

Now, on with the story!



Chapter 7

Isatere raised her hand to the side of her head and wiggled her fingers in a small gesture.

The towering, dark creature behind her saw the gesture and looked up in front of her. There, a single figure stood at the ready, bearing a sword in a two-handed grip.

The shadowy creature leaned forward and roared a deep, guttural bellow, glaring at the single swordsman. Rather than stepping around Isatere, it simply absorbed its face into itself and spilled over her, as though it were being poured from a pitcher. The fact that it was spilling upwards, in clear defiance of gravity, didn?t seem to affect it at all.

Once it was relocated as a mound of dark, shapeless blob in front of the austere woman, it pulled itself back up into a remotely humanoid shape ? two legs, two arms, a rounded top more similar than not to a human head, although it was lacking a neck.

Rebuilt in front of its master, it felt it necessary to roar again before charging forward. Satisfied with its noisy behavior, it began bounding towards the man who had offended it.

Tightening his grip on the blade in his hands, the swordsman steadied his stance and waited for the construct to get closer before he?d make his move.

And when that time came, and he moved, he really moved.

Rather, he moved quickly, but time seemed to have a hard time keeping up. Instead of actually dashing to the side as he appeared to Isatere and her construct, he was simply sidestepping in careful and measured steps, while the black-blue-purple creature lumbered slowly towards where he had been standing.

Good timing at that, too, thought Isatere. The massive hulk of magic had coiled its arm back, as though it were going to throw a punch from roughly five yards away, and instead hurled a dark blue ball of energy at Dante?s original spot. When the ball hit the ground, it splattered backwards ? again, in spite of the normal laws of physics ? and then built itself into a bubble.

The construct continued forward, clearly aware that Dante wasn?t in front of it anymore, but it still wanted to recover the bits of itself that it had thrown. As it neared the bubble, it hopped up and turned halfway, in the direction Dante had slid away. In its ?peripheral? vision, it spotted the young swordsman throw himself through the air at it.

Letting a sword stab into you is an unpleasant experience, though only if you?re organic in nature or have pain receptors throughout your being. The construct didn?t fit into either of these categories, but it wasn?t keen on the idea of letting the man slash it. The simplest solution it could think of, while its momentum was still carrying it forward ? and the laws of physics were determined to keep it that way, to make the blue creature pay for ignoring them earlier ? was to drop down. This is a plausible move for anything, organic or not, although humans tend to have a bit of trouble just letting themselves fall completely apart and become a puddle in the ground.

Dante successfully cleared the construct before he landed, skidding and turning in one fluid motion. He hadn?t swung the sword ? it wasn?t meant for slashing, but for stabbing and bludgeoning ? and couldn?t use its weight to help him turn. Instead he switched his grip around and kept it pointed at the far wall, and turned to face the construct with the sword behind him.

The golem was rising up out of the puddle of itself faster than he?d expected ? Dante barely had time to satisfy his condition again before it was lumbering at him once again.

He didn?t sidestep it, this time, and instead chose to jump at it again. Bringing the sword around from behind him forced him to slash with it, losing some of the weapons potential for damage.

Magic constructs are tall; they lack organs and bones. Dante wasn?t burdened with heavy armor, and the sword was an old favorite, one whose weight went unnoticed in his familiar hands. Because his magic warped his personal flow of time, which had unusual effects on how he was affected by gravity, he was able to push off and jump up high enough to bring the sword to bear on the constructs? neck ? if it had one. When he made contact with it he was surprised at how little resistance it had on his swing. The straight blade passed through the constructs neck easily, separating the head from the body. As the two pieces went their separate ways, they lost cohesion and turned into small globes of black-blue-purple.

Dante?s trajectory carried him right through them, and as they hit him they shattered as though made of glass and rocketed away from him, spiting physics once more.

The globes that he didn?t hit fell to the ground behind him, further from Isatere than where Dante had started. The young man?s jump had deposited him facing Isatere, who was simply standing and watching the fight with her hands clasped behind her back. Her face was neutral and he couldn?t make out her eyes behind the tiny glasses suspended in front of them.

Dante considered himself lucky she wasn?t attacking him as well; she could summon more of these magic constructs at-will, and the one was aggravating enough as it was. He?d heard that she was proficient with a sword, as well, however he?d only seen her ever handle a hatchet ? and that was only to look at it, never to swing it.

He pushed Isatere from his thoughts, and glanced back at the puddle on the ground.

The puddle was a construct again.

?You?ve got to be kidding me! This isn?t fair, Isatere!? he exclaimed. Isatere laughed.

?You?re forgetting something very important about Magus fights, Dante.?

He looked back at her. She was still standing there, arms behind her back. He was afraid that she had in fact summoned another construct while he was distracted, but she was still standing alone.
He blinked at her, and she rolled her eyes. ?The Mage, Dante. Magic goes away when you get rid of the Mage.?

His jaw dropped in astonished stupidity. Of course. This wasn?t a training test for his swordsmanship ? he?d already passed those exams long ago. This was a Magus battle exam ? and he?d completely forgotten the Magus.

Turning his body to match his head, he began running towards the woman.

She stood her ground, unwavering, without blinking.

As Dante brought his sword up and inverted his grip, setting the point forward towards her, she finally unclasped her hands from her back and blinked. She dropped her arms to her side and glared at him.
He brought his sword up a short distance, away from her but kept it forward. He wouldn?t try to harm her, regardless of the parameters of the training exercise.

Despite his good intentions, he wouldn?t have gotten close to her anyways. A messy mop of red hair barged into his view, coming up from below and matching Isatere?s glare. It was another young man, and in his left hand, he had a short dagger in a reverse-handed grip, holding it flat against his forearm. This, he used to swat Dante?s sword away, and in a surprising flurry of movement he swung the dagger around into a proper grip and applied it to Dante?s sword. With a flick of his wrist, the sword tumbled out of the other man?s hand and fell to the ground.

Dante grabbed his wrist and swore. The disarm stung his hand, but didn?t actually cut him.

?Augh. I wasn?t going to hit her!? he spat, rubbing at his wrist. The red-haired man let his arms slack, but still didn?t stop glaring at him.

Isatere set her hand on his shoulder, and told him aside. Behind Dante, the construct tottered up and grumbled at him. With a glance up at the creature, Isatere dismissed it, scattering its essence to the absent wind.

?You?ve passed this exercise well enough, Dante. In a proper battle, things will be so chaotic it wouldn?t be expected to remember everything. We?re hoping to get you trained up enough to let your instincts take over and carry you through the fight in one piece.?

A single pair of hands let out a slow round of applause. The three combatants turned to look to the entrance; two men had let themselves in, one resplendent in flowing Guild Master robes, and the other wearing a light suit of armor. They were both striding towards Isatere?s group.

The Guild Master, Reginald Heighler, was applauding.

Isatere narrowed her eyes slightly; at the distance between the two groups, Heighler wouldn?t have been able to see it. She found it rather unpleasant to deal with the Maging Guilds, and this one in particular. She was about as fond of Reginald as Dante was with her constructs.

?And just who are you applauding, then, Reginald?? she called out to him. The red haired man flipped his wrist, twirling his dagger around back into a reverse-handed grip, concealing it with his forearm.

Reginald simply stopped clapping and smiled at her.

?Isatere, such a pleasure to see you again. Come to raid our supplies again??

She glared daggers at him. If she hadn?t held her hand out to ward her companion off, he probably would?ve thrown his.

?I need very specific crystals for my work and my research. I can?t just stop at some hut along the side of the road and scoop up a handful ? you know that.?

?Of course, of course. You know, however, that if you actually took up employment at a Guild, you?d have ready access to the crystals, with no worry for cost.?

The armored man beside Reginald coughed lightly into his fist. ?If you?ll excuse me, Master Heighler, I?d like to receive my squire and return to the garrison grounds??

Without even looking at him, Reginald waved his hand dismissively. ?Yes, of course, take them with you.?

Isatere shook her head. ?Dante is the only one going with him. This is my summon ??
The red-haired man interrupted her, speaking simultaneously as her, ?Novos Culor.?
?? Novos Culor Reib, not one of your toy soldiers.? Dante blinked at the phrase ?toy soldiers?, but held his silence.

The knight standing next to Reginald seemed to take enough offense for the both of them. ?I beg your pardon, woman?? he spat, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

?Allow me to arrive unto myself.? Isatere crossed her arms and glared at the knight now, glad to have an excuse to vent her frustration towards Reginald.

Realizing that she?d just incanted a condition, and that she was preparing her magic, the knight drew his sword quickly and held it up at ready. The blade flashed, and Isatere was left with an impression of a flat disc based around the sword.

In response, Isatere called up three of her constructs directly around the knight. Two were bipedal, and the one directly in front of the knight was a quadruped.

In unison, they all bellowed at the swordsman.

Clearly startled, the knight turned quickly and slashed with his sword around to the right, away from Reginald. The construct he slashed at was severed almost equally through its waist, and the top half seemed to spill like liquid over the lower half. The legs remained connected to each other, and they staggered back before trying to scrabble forward towards the knight.

He rotated back on to the front, bending at his knees and pulling the hilt of the sword above his head, point angled down. The quadruped construct then leapt forward at him, and the knight dropped the point of the sword almost straight downward. The disc Isatere thought she?d seen flared back into the visible light spectrum as the construct smashed into it; the knight heaved forward, shoving it towards Isatere. Startled, she stepped back.

The construct opposite the one slashed by the knight shattered brilliantly, pieces of the creature rocketing through the air. Surprised at how quickly the constructs were being subdued, Isatere prepared to conjure more of them from the ether, but she felt a sharp pain at her shoulder and her foot shot out from beneath her. Quite suddenly, she was falling to the ground. A sudden jerk stopped her from completely falling on her face, but her glasses slipped off of her nose and tumbled to the ground.
Dante must?ve grabbed her and dropped her halfway to the floor. She glared at the ground, locks of hair falling loose from her bangs. The quadruped construct was the only one that hadn?t suffered damage yet, and with a bit of focused attention she rebuilt the other two constructs.

The four-legged construct sank into the ground and became a puddle for a moment, before shifting completely into a shadow. In the blink of an eye, it slid under Isatere and rose back up, melting around her and hardening into armor while replacing her glasses upon her nose. In her half-fallen position, it lined up almost perfectly and she was able to use its long limbs to support herself while Novos Culor grabbed Dante and pulled him away from her. The two original constructs rebuilt themselves around the knight, separating him from Reginald.

The construct between the two puffed itself up, and bellowed loudly again. Its opposite, meanwhile, shot a pseudo-pod towards the knight?s sword, seizing it within a mass of itself, snatching the blade away.

Isatere rose up to a proper bipedal pose, and refocused her glare to the knight. In a rather disappointing move, he reached to his side and drew out another blade, one that was in a concealed sheath along the outer thigh of his armor.

The construct nearest Reginald plucked that sword away from him, as well.

Reginald himself had a strange ring hovering around his wrist, slowly spinning along in its own little orbit. He held this up to the construct that was now holding a sword within itself, and the ring flashed. The construct rippled along its middle, and the head was blasted forward into its chest. This time, however, it didn?t shatter, and instead turned and grumbled at Reginald.

Surrounded by two constructs that now held two of his swords in them, and presented with a strangely glowing blue woman in front of him, the knight decided to try to holster his last sword in the woman-construct. He wasn?t aware that it was in fact Isatere, surrounded by one of her own summons.

He procured another short sword from his other thigh, and lunged forward at her with it.

The construct that she?d surrounded herself with was solid enough for her to hold her hand open in front of the sword and grab the point, and redirect it alongside her. She tucked it under her free arm, closed her arm over it, and wrenched it out of his grip. In doing so, she tugged the knight towards her,
and reached up and slapped him hard.

?I do not apologize for my comment; you soldiers only destroy. I strive to create. Novos Culor will not ever become a conscript. I trained him myself, and no others will leave their impression on his mind.?
Reginald eyed Novos Culor. He had tucked the arm that wasn?t adorned with the floating ring behind his back, and held the other arm in front of his chest, and was slowly lowering it. The ring faded from existence.

?It?s just a summon. You?ll have to start over with a new one once he gets destroyed, or you stop focusing on him. Aren?t you being a little bit trite??

Novos Culor released Dante and stood up straight. His dagger was hidden again; he?d sheathed it before tackling the younger swordsman. Quietly, he stepped behind Isatere and watched Reginald intently. The younger mans? stare unsettled the Guild Master, for reasons he couldn?t define.

?He is permanent. He is human. He has every organ you and I have; he bleeds as we do.?

Reginald looked at the redheaded man again. He couldn?t tell for certain, but it seemed as though he?d narrowed his eyes slightly. Perhaps it was just his paranoia.

?And you? summoned him, did you?? he asked.

?You?ve known me for long enough. Have I ever been with a child? No. This construct formed as a full human, roughly a year ago. I myself don?t know how I managed it,? she said.

The knight stood still, bristling with quiet rage. Reginald finally took notice of him and his lack of weapons, surrounded by angrier constructs. ?I don?t suppose you could return the Commandants weapons, if you don?t mind??

Isatere looked at the knight. ?Provided he doesn?t try to use them against me again.?

The constructs on either side of the knight grumbled, and the swords suspended within them slowly protruded out of their chests, hilts first. The Commandant reached towards the long-sword first. As he wrapped his hands around the grip, he heaved into the construct slightly, but the sword didn?t budge. It only moved as he pulled it out, and refused to go in any other direction.

Despite the rather fluid appearance of the constructs and their liquid-like movements, the swords came free and were completely dry. As he completely drew the sword out of each construct, it growled and shattered like glass. Each shard vanished before it hit the ground.

The Commandant sheathed the long-sword and held his half-blade for a moment before looking towards Isatere. The two bipedal constructs were gone; it was just her, still sheathed in her quadruped construct, and still had his last sword.

Isatere watched him blankly, then abruptly set her face into a sharp glare at him, and in a fluid motion pulled his last sword out of her construct and swung it brutally in an upward slash, knocking his sword out of his hands and flipping it away from him. She tossed the sword she was holding after its matching partner, letting them ring out against the floor as they skittered away.

Reginald laughed. ?You picked up on that, too, didn?t you? I thought you weren?t a telepath.?

Isatere frowned at the knight. ?I?m not, but this construct is. It warned me.?

The knight rubbed his hand; Isatere was a graceful fighter, but just because she knew how to move smoothly didn?t mean she couldn?t pack a fierce amount of power behind her strikes.

The construct surrounding most of Isatere slowly sank into the ground, sliding smoothly over her when her feet touched the floor, and she stopped sinking. Once it was completely gone she stepped away from Dante, and glared at the Commandant. ?I do believe I won?t be staying to help train the rest of the squires, Reginald. I?ll be collecting my crystals and departing as soon as possible.?

Reginald turned away from the knight and his apprentice, and followed behind Isatere. ?I still don?t see why you refuse to take up full employment at a Guild.?

?I travel with the moons. My summoning magic is based in Alteration, however I?ve discovered that I tap into fragments of Clerical magic occasionally. I?m trying to find out exactly when, and how, I do so, and if I follow the moons in their orbits I can expect to receive a small boost to their corresponding magic type.?

Reginald cocked an eyebrow. ?Really? I wasn?t aware that proximity to the moons boosted magical proficiency. Are you certain on this??

Isatere sighed. ?It?s a very miniscule change, if there?s even one present. If I can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that there really is a boost, I?ll make sure to publish it and submit it to the Guilds. Until then, no, I?m not certain.?

Behind Reginald, the quadruped construct sank upwards out of the ground and padded along after the two Magus. It wasn?t subtle or stealthy about its approach; it scraped its claws across the ground noisily and kept pace easily.

Reginald looked behind him, expecting to see Novos Culor and his shock of red hair. He was slightly unsettled by the silent reappearance of the rather noisy construct, and at the fact that it was so closely following them.

?Yes, it?s necessary. Your Commandant doesn?t seem to be one to let even a small insult go unpunished, so I?m letting it stay between us.?

The Guild Master grinned easily. ?Of course. What about your other summon, the human construct??
Isatere heaved another sigh. Dealing with Reginald was comparable to the last thread on an already incredibly thin rope.

?It?s not a construct, it?s a human. He?s got more free will than my proper constructs have ? that is, he actually has free will. He?ll follow us when he feels like it. Has an uncanny knack to always know where I am, somehow. I?m sure he?ll find me.?

Reginald glanced over his shoulder, looking back at the knights and the redhead. The quadruped construct was somehow even closer to him, and it propped its head up slightly and stared at him, as though it were considering eating him. Reginald tried to ignore the construct as best he could.

The Commandant had recovered his half-swords and had sheathed them, and was rubbing his wrist absently while talking to his squire. Dante was rubbing his wrist, as well. Neither one looked to be in a hurry to follow the Mages, or give them trouble. Novos Culor was standing a ways off to the side by himself, watching the two swordsmen intently.

Ahead of him, Isatere opened the doorway to the training chamber and stepped through without waiting for Reginald. As he turned forward again, the door very nearly struck him, as it swung shut; after a moment?s surprise, Reginald stopped the door and pushed it open. He stepped through to the other side and closed the door, hoping to leave the quadruped construct in the room, or that Isatere would dismiss it. Much to his dismay, its head seemed to pass through the door with little consequence, and stared at him again.

Unsettled, he turned and strode after Isatere.



Novos Culor is literally a blank slate - Isatere accidentally satisfied her condition for summoning a God-template and conjured him up, but there weren't any vacancies in the pantheon. Ergo, Novos Culor simply follows Isatere around and obeys her. He doesn't have much of a personality, but he's incredibly defensive over Isatere, and excels at being defensive. He has the ability to tap into active magic nearby and re-purpose it for his own needs - such as Dante's time-manipulation magic. WHOOPS SPOILERS
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 08, 2010, 07:18:25 PM
Commandant Yome is a Paladin, just like Damian and Keroth. His next appearance in the story hasn't been written yet, but keep that in mind - the Paladin's aren't directly affiliated with the Guilds.



Dante grinned at the Commandant. The older knight didn?t have any magical prowess ? his largest sword had a crystal embedded in the hilt that would manifest a defensive shield if he held the sword still long enough while it was unsheathed. Otherwise, he was simply the best swordsman amongst the Paladins in the area that Reginald could convince to take over the defensive garrison. Dante had been his squire for some time now; the two had met nearly eight years prior, and Dante was studying under him for the past four.

?I like to think I did very well right there, considering today?s lesson, sir.?

The knight smirked. ?Did you, now? Well, what was the lesson??

Dante laughed. ?If you take the Magus out, the magic goes with it. I wasn?t about to stab Lady Reib, though ? I know she?s a very important person to the guild. I figured though that if I could distract her, her constructs might go away.?

The knight tilted his head slightly, indicating an abandoned sword laying a few feet away from them. ?Of course you weren?t going to stab her. You didn?t even have your sword.?

?To be fair, Commandant Yome, neither did you after a while. The Lady Reib seems to be rather proficient with disarming swordsmen. Seems she?s passed that on to her own squire.?

Yome looked at the redhead; the other man was staring intently at them, obviously unashamed to be so brazenly watching them. However, neither group seemed interested in exchanging blows, so the only thing the air remained thick with was tension.

He addressed the redhead. ?She said you were a human construct, and that you had a name. What was it??

?Novos Culor Reib.? He was brief and to the point with his words.

Yome nodded. ?And you weren?t naturally born??

Novos Culor shook his head.

?She?s trained you in fighting??

He shook his head again.

Yome blinked. ?You?re untrained, but you managed to surprise a squire of four years and disarm him in one fell swoop??

?I am not untrained. Isatere Reib did not train me.?

Yome glanced at Dante. ?Would either of you object to sparring for a short while??

Dante nodded. Novos Culor flicked his wrist; his dagger was there, in a proper grip once again.



Isatere strode along, not paying any attention to anything Reginald said, or even registering whether or not he was talking.

?NOVOS CULOR REIB AND THE SQUIRE ARE FIGHTING. THE COMMANDANT IS OBSERVING, AND STILL HOLDS DISDAIN TOWARDS REIB. I SENSE DISSENT IN THE COMMANDANT?S MIND,? the quadruped said abruptly. Reginald twitched at the unnatural sound.

Isatere let out an exasperated sigh. ?Do these soldiers think of anything but swords, grunting, and testosterone? Excuse me, Reginald, I know where the crystals are stored and who to refer to in regards to payment. I have to go calm your tin men down.?

She turned and strode quickly back the way they came; she was glad to have an excuse to abandon Reginald without giving him the courtesy of a chance to reply.

She was worried about Novos Culor; he didn?t seem to have any magic, and if he did, neither of them knew how to satisfy his Condition. Dante, however, only had to arrange his fingers in a certain pattern ? which he could do while holding a sword ? and he could warp the flow of time, allowing himself to move faster in time while everything around him remained at a relatively normal pace. To someone unaffected by his magic, he would seem to glide around as though unaffected by friction, and his movements would be many times faster than someone could hope to match.
Novos Culor had the apparent energy to fight, and it seemed the necessary skill to disarm him while he wasn?t using his magic, but aside from that little trick of the wrist she had never actually watched him fight.

While the two of them were traveling, they had once come upon a wandering group of less than reputable characters, which seemed to have planned to have their way with Isatere before robbing her of her equipment and selling Novos Culor into slavery. Before she could summon her constructs, one of the men had grabbed Novos Culor and started to bring his knife to the redhead?s neck. In one smooth motion, Novos Culor had flipped the thug over his shoulder and somehow removed his knife from his possession. He held it at the ready, but before he could put it to use Isatere summoned up a squad of constructs and scared the remainder off. After that, Novos Culor kept the dagger, but never had opportunity to actually use it.

The quadruped construct took the lead, and when they came up to the door leading to the weapons room it walked right through it.

Since Isatere never dismissed this last construct, her magic was still active, and she didn?t have to say her incantation to satisfy the condition. Instead, she just tapped into her magic and pulled four more constructs up out of the ground in the chamber beyond the door.

Rather than using her imagination to guide the appearance of these summonses, she just pulled the essence of her magic together and forced it into cohesion. When she stepped through the door, she cast a quick glance at the new summons and committed their locations to memory. She didn?t want to be distracted by trying to remember which construct was where if she needed to bind them together.
These summons seemed to ignore physics even more than the one she used against Dante. They had thick arms, broad shoulders, a sunken head, but no lower limbs. Their waists just tapered off and hovered above the ground.

The Commandant was surprised by their sudden reappearance, but didn?t move from his spot nor reach for his blades. He simply stood and had his arms crossed over his chest, watching Dante and Novos Culor size each other up.

?I?m not interfering. Novos and Dante both agreed to have a sparring match,? Commandant Yome said. He didn?t take his eyes off the two younger men.

Isatere stepped up behind him. ?If I feel that anything has been done to my summon-? without taking his attention off Dante, Novos Culor corrected her again with his name, ?- I will not hesitate to slaughter you and your little playmate where you stand. Am I understood??

Yome nodded. ?Of course. This is a fight between them, and not me, you, or your summons,? he turned slightly and looked pointedly at her.

She frowned. With a wave, the two constructs on the far side of the room shattered into non-existence. ?That?s all you?ll get.?

The quadruped construct sauntered up alongside her and bumped her hand up onto the top of its head. Yome watched it for a moment, and then turned back to the swordsmen. ?Very well. Dante, Novos, feel free to begin whenever you?re ready.?

Isatere saw Dante?s lowest hand on the hilt of his sword move slightly, and she closed her eyes. He was starting out with his magic to begin with, and Novos Culor had nothing to counter it with, so far as she could tell.

There was a sharp metallic report. The distinct sound of a sword being dropped to the ground; Isatere opened her eyes.

Dante had been shoved behind Novos Culor, and had ended up falling to his stomach. His sword was on the ground, rocking slightly, just a few feet beyond him. Novos Culor straightened himself out of a combat stance, and twirled the dagger back around in his hand to a reverse-handed grip.
Commandant Yome uncrossed his arms in shock, and his jaw dropped. Isatere let a smug smile play across her face, before wiping the signs of satisfaction away.

?How- What- Dante, what happened?!? he called, striding over to the young swordsman.

The quadruped construct looked up at Isatere and chuffed.

?NOVOS CULOR REIB TAPPED INTO DANTE?S MAGIC AND AMPLIFIED THE EFFECT FOR HIMSELF. DANTE WAS NOT FAST ENOUGH TO COMPENSATE BEFORE NOVOS CULOR REIB DISARMED HIM.?

Isatere stared at the redhead. He did? what?

Novos Culor turned around and sheathed his dagger, then offered a hand to Dante. The squire rolled onto his back and took him up on his offer, letting Dante pull him back up to his feet.

?You can warp time, too?? he asked the redhead.

Novos Culor shook his head. ?No. You can.?

Dante blinked, and dropped the subject. He gathered his sword up off the ground, clipping it to the makeshift bracket he had on his belt.

Yome finally recovered his composure and closed his mouth. He turned to face Isatere.

?Earlier you said you trained him, and just a few moments ago he contradicted you by saying you didn?t. Which is it? Whom do I believe?? he asked.

Isatere shook her head. ?Neither of us. Not so far we trust each other. But, in answer to your underlying question, I did not train him in the use of a weapon. I taught him some of the finer arts of science. I myself will not be teaching him what I know about fighting. He seems to have come predisposed to some nice melee tricks.?

She beckoned to Novos Culor, calling him over. At the same time, the last floating constructs shredded themselves to oblivion and the quadruped sank into the floor again.

Yome bowed slightly at the waist. ?I apologize for my past behavior. Reginald has? lead me to believe he isn?t satisfied with knights of any caliber. He has recruited me in to replace his former garrison commander, and expressed his dissatisfaction at the previous Paladin?s method for getting things done. In my zeal to give a more positive impression to Heighler, I?m afraid I let my emotions go far beyond what I should?ve.
?I understand you may not be so keen on forgiving me; that?s the consequence for my actions. But I would like to ask of you a question, and perhaps a favor.?

She glanced over at Dante. He was simply standing quietly, obediently waiting for his elders to go about their business. She turned back to Yome.

?Go ahead.?

?How long will you be in the area? If you?ll be here for a few days longer, I?d like to have your construct here ?? Novos Culor muttered his own name again, correcting Yome without speaking up to interrupt him, ?- spar with some of my new charges. He is extremely skilled with a dagger, and I hope to teach the other squires a thing or two about disarming without injuring someone.?

Isatere sniffed. She wasn?t keen on staying any longer than necessary, especially not in Rispaire and incidentally, near Reginald. She didn?t feel she owed Yome for any reason, but having a Commandant in charge of a garrison owe you a favor, no matter how small, was always useful.

?I will be here overnight. I will allow Novos Culor to demonstrate what he knows about disarming, provided he has no objections. I want you to remember to treat him as a human ? because, that?s exactly what he is. Not just an abstract collection of magic like my other works.?

Yome straightened out of his bow and nodded, smiling. ?And could I convince you to help train the other conscripts, as well? Your constructs would be an immensely useful asset. The ability for the squires to practice what they know, without holding back, and against sentient ??
?Semi-sentient.?
? ? eh, yes, semi-sentient beings. It would be a great help.?

She pushed her miniscule glasses further onto her nose, as an old habit.

?I will be busy elsewhere in the Maging Guild itself, not in the garrison. My constructs, however, can remain without my presence indefinitely. They won?t be as intelligent, however, and will only react to aggression. They will be resilient, so your trainees can be as brutal as they want, be it with steel or with magic. When I finish with my errands I?ll return to the garrison until sundown and share what I know. Is there anywhere larger than this chamber I can put my minions??

Yome blinked. ?The outdoors training yard. Is there anything I need to know about the constructs??

?Don?t strike them and let go of your weapon. They always pull things into them if I let them.?

She turned and strode away from him, back towards the door. The quadruped construct followed her, albeit with its body still underground. The sight of its head slinking along the ground was a bit disconcerting to the swordsmen. Dante coughed lightly into his fist.




Dante cannot completely stop time - all he can do is speed it up for himself. Yome, while being a Paladin, doesn't actually have any special abilities. He's just that good with his swords. His main sword has been enchanted to project psychokinetic barriers.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 11, 2010, 05:02:23 AM
Anja thinks with portals. Also, the return of Sifarus! He goes by Sefidicus now.
This one's fairly sizable, so settle in, folks.



Outside the training chamber, Reginald stood in another room connected to the same hallway. He was watching the fight between Dante and the human-construct; he wasn?t paying attention when Isatere said its name. He was interested in Dante?s magic; the ability to speed up his own progression of time while affecting no one else was a very interesting ability, one he?d like to study in further detail.

It seemed, however, that Novos Culor had the same peculiar trait.

?What?s this?? Anja asked, quite suddenly scaring Reginald. He turned around; behind her was a shimmering globe, slowly shriveling until it stopped at the size of a small snow-globe.

?How?d you get here?? he asked.

She was grinning; obviously, she?d used magic, or had found something that she could use to startle him with, and was obviously amused with the result.

?I was reading up some texts in the library. They mentioned how the royal palaces used a sort of warped space magic ? albeit a very rare form of magic altogether ? to Shift people and materials that are normally unable to Shift on their own to other locations. They called it Rune-Array Matter Shift ??

?They only called that so they could have a convenient acronym. It?s just a fancy way to say ?strange portal that you shove things into?.?

?I suppose. Anyways, the book said they used another Magus, one that they were familiar with, in the target location to use as a focal point. I figured I?d home in on you, and come see what you?re doing.?
She strode over alongside him and manipulated the set of crystals laid into the frame Reginald was standing in front of. The events that had unfolded in the training center began to repeat themselves in a small reconstruction of the chamber.

She was still grinning as she watched the multiple fights take place. Reginald turned his attention to them as well. It was the third time he?d seen the initial sparring match between Dante and Isatere?s first construct.

Anja was watching it with a hawk?s focus. She was more interested in the construct, and wasn?t watching Dante when he began to use his time-warping effect. After he dodged the first time and leapt through the air the first time, she turned her attention to him.

?He can fly? No, that?s not flight? he?s just athletically trained. That was quite a jump, but how did he move like that?? she asked.

?His magic involves causing time to speed up for just himself; he appears to move much faster than us, and we appear to move much slower than him. I don?t understand the exact physics for how his magic behaves when he?s airborne, but it seems to cause him to have a more pronounced trajectory.?

Anja held up a hand. The field of warped air that signified the presence of her magus field was slowly staining itself into a light blue tone, as though it were leaching some of the energy from Isatere?s constructs.

Her other hand had a matching field, and these she used as a dancer?s poi?s. She twisted and turned, dancing in place and letting her hands trace intricate patterns through the air, leaving small contrails for a moment before they faded from sight, all while channeling the magic.

To Reginald, she was dancing rapidly, as though keeping in time with a song heard at a festival. He assumed, correctly, that she was using the same kind of magic that Dante could use.

She stopped dancing with a flourish, arms spread and one leg turned out.

?How long was that for you?? she asked.

?About ten, fifteen seconds. You??

Her smile spread slightly. ?A minute and a half.?

Reginald nodded. ?So, now, you?ve aged a minute and fifteen seconds older than I have.?

Anja?s amusement completely vanished. ?I am not doing that again. Maybe not until I?m older.?

The Guild Master chuckled at her shock. ?That?s the problem with Magus who can manipulate time. They always end up dying sooner than they should.?

His apprentice was shaken, and he considered this to be ample revenge for startling him. Things were well. He turned his attention back to the fights going on in the recreation of the training chamber.
Anja turned away from the array of crystals and smiled. She traced a circle in the air with her hand, and another ?Rune-Array Matter Shifting Portal? opened, connected to her study. She stepped through and it collapsed behind her.



Sifarus pulled himself into more of an upright position. He was once again perched on the armrest of one of the plush chairs, and was leaning over backwards across the back of it. When he heard the subtle swishing noise of displaced air, he opened his mind to the confines of the room and sensed Anja. He felt it would be more appropriate to address her sitting upright, rather than studying the ceiling.

He also wanted to take another look at Anja.

She forced the smile off of her face, pressing her lips into a stern frown quickly to ensure that the portal was completely destroyed. Satisfied with the result, she took on a mask of defeat and plopped down into the chair opposite Sifarus?.

She crossed her legs tightly; anything less and she?d be embarrassed by the short skirt she was wearing. It matched the small, loose, low-cut blouse she had on, as well.

?So, how?d that little trick go?? he asked her, struggling to keep his eyes up and focused on hers.

She sighed and rolled her head back. Sifarus took this as an invitation to let his gaze wander. ?He was more interested in the magic that a swordsman was using, some time-manipulation trick. When I emulated it, he was more impressed by the fact that I could twist my magic into a similar form than by my fashion sense. He was also more pleased with the fact that I managed to recreate another set of difficult magic ? the Rune-Arrays ? than my flashing him.?

Sifarus choked. ?You flashed him?? He felt a moments? envy.

?I may as well have! I have no clue where these clothes came from, and I?m not eager to wear them again. I do plan on switching into something more modest as soon as possible,? she said.

?Don?t let me stop you.?

Anja rose and strode quickly to the small division of the study; in the wall opposite the counter, hidden from Sifarus? seat, was a moderately small closet. She turned her back to Sifarus and peeled the blouse off, flicking it into the closet lazily and plucking another, larger shirt out and slipping it over her head. She sat down below the counter to deal with her skirt.

Sifarus grinned and leaned back again in defeat. Ah, well.



Sithenth affected a sigh. To a basic human, one with little or no mental prowess, he was invisible. A basic human, however, would?ve found it impossible to exist on the same plane he was lazing about.
He had dissipated his body and collected his consciousness in the typical planar territory that the Gods plotted and planned from. To the humans who asked about this plane, it was simply called the ?spiritual realm of the Gods?; to the Gods, it wasn?t anything spectacular or important enough to actually have a proper name. They could?ve done the same things there as they could anywhere else ? the Rogue Gods had to do just that, in fact; if they attempted to enter this plane, the collected Inner Gods would turn as one and attack them.

Sithenth preferred to work his mischief here; he could maintain a mental link with any of his Pactios and watch their actions without directly putting himself in danger, or in sight. It was also easier to coax another God into lending their resources to his endeavors.

To him, and the other Gods milling about, however, there were no sight problems. A God rarely actually used their eyes; even in a corporeal plane, they kept their mind open to danger and perceived their surroundings with their mind. Relying on their eyes gave them a sensation of blindness ? they had perfect vision, but being unable to see what was behind them was disconcerting. The collected Gods and their self-fashioned territory were as visible to them as the mountains and plain lands of Kaetir were to mortal humans walking the surface.

It was his idea to have Anja try to seduce Heighler; even Sithenth himself was vulnerable to female wiles, so he lazily assumed the Guild Master was as well.

Evidently not. The man was obsessed with magic and its workings.

It was still worth it just to see Anja in those clothes. From the God?s Plane he could clearly see anything on Kaetir, with specific attention and detail to everything around each of his Pactios. The counter, as well as Anja turning her back to Sifarus, didn?t affect Sithenth?s view of the young lady, and he felt no shame at admiring her form. A moment passed where he, a God of several centuries, felt slightly awkward for observing her, a human mortal only about two decades old, but it was only a moment, and it passed.

He rose from the reclining position he?d taken upon the futon. The God?s Plane was always shifting, but Sithenth made sure that there was always something for him to completely drop himself onto ? the fact that no Gods had corporeal bodies at the moment didn?t stop them from putting the effort forth to project their own mental images of themselves onto the surroundings ? and mentally projecting the surroundings themselves.

His resplendent uniform was complete in all aspects save for his helm; this he gripped in his hand, letting the straps trail along behind him.

Azierxin tracked him as he wandered about the Plane. She had her typical blank stare plastered to her face; he turned his eyeless face to her pointedly and kept it aimed at her as deliberately as she stared at him. She held her hands in front of her stomach, wrists turned so each palm faced the opposite. Between them, a blue fire was twisting about; it had no base, nothing to suspend it in midair, and it was spherical in shape. Sithenth cocked an eyebrow at it, and then turned his attention back to the Goddess.

?Didn?t the humans ever tell you it?s impolite to stare? Ah, right? I forgot, you have no followers,? he sneered. ?However you became an Inner Goddess I?ll never know.?

?I have followers. I am being empowered as we speak. I maintain the faith-mana, a resource even you yourself use regularly. Without me, your powers would quickly expire.? She turned her own attention downwards to her blue fire. ?I hold here the faith-mana being devoted to me.?

Sithenth looked at it, and reached out to touch it. There was no heat, of course, but the sensation that he felt was amazing, brilliant.

?My bad,? he apologized to her. She blinked widely at him.

?You?ve become a Rogue?? she asked, and took a single step back.

Sithenth wanted to strangle her. Instead, he heaved another exasperated sigh. ?No, blasted woman ? it means ?I was wrong, I apologize?, or ?I?m sorry.?? He pointed at the fire twisting in her hands. ?Perhaps you should interact with the humans more often, get to understand their ways of talking ? and staring at people. Perhaps you should go visit whoever is worshipping you now and thank them, even.?

Azierxin looked at the fire twisting between her hands silently. She twisted one hand underneath it, and it sank into her palm. Suddenly she clapped her other hand over the fire, startling Sithenth and evidently destroying it. When she opened her hands back up, a small ember remained, which very slowly began to grow into another flame.

?I will thank him.? With that, she left the God?s Plane.

?You never seem to know when to just shut up, do you, Sithenth??

The eyeless God turned to look at whoever was addressing him.

The Cleric from the Shrine Sifarus had ended up at a few weeks past was standing in the God?s Plane.

?Oh? This is a momentous occasion, a mortal human ascending to the God?s Plane.?

The Cleric shook his head. ?You?re the Trickster God and you don?t even recognize one of your basic pranks? For shame.?

Sithenth narrowed his ?eyes?. Finally, it clicked, and he was able to pick out the identity of this doppelganger.

?Well, Liez?rial, it?s been a while since we?ve spoken, face to somebody else?s face.?




Sithenth would be played a seven-foot-tall Johnny Depp.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 11, 2010, 05:08:12 AM
Our Prayers are Different



Acied was kneeling down on his knees, hands dropped to his sides, fingertips splayed out from each other and resting on the floor. His head was tilted forward slightly, and he had his eyes closed. Sara sat in the farthest corner of their room on the bed, gently strumming her harp and humming softly. In a sense, they were doing the same thing, but in their own separate ways.

?Thank you.?

Acied opened his eyes, but didn?t look up. ?Not sure what for, but you?re welcome, Sara,? he said ? failing to notice that she?d stopped humming and her harp had fallen silent.

?I didn?t say that, Acied ? she did,? Sara said.

Acied finally turned to look. Between them, another woman stood, holding one hand up with a blue flame in it.

He rose to his feet without even realizing it. Sara slid back on the bed and huddled into the corner, hugging her harp to her chest. Acied saw her grasp at the catch in the arc, unlocking but not drawing free the small knife held within.

Acied swallowed and sang tunelessly, ?By the Gods? Good Graces, grant me the gear to cure my grief.? With this, he was able to take on a sort of half-wolf, half-man shape better able to fight than an unarmed human. Without continuing to sing, or having Sara support him, he?d only be able to maintain the shape-shift for roughly twenty seconds or so, depending on how long it took for his assumed features to slide back into their norms.

Sara didn?t sing, however. Instead, she was staring at him with her jaw dropped in amazement. The mysterious intruder hadn?t moved towards either of them, and the fire in her hands twisted lazily around, under the effects of the still air of the room ? not under a pyromancers? control. Acied took the time to flex his shoulders, giving himself a feel for his current shape.

He?d intended to only go into a cross between the large traveling wulf and himself, just to give him sharper teeth and claws in case their visitor was unfriendly, as he?d assumed.

Judging by the feeling of his muscles rippling across his back he?d taken on a more massive form than intended; his legs had remained at the same length, but had taken on a coat of fur. His shoulders had broadened out, supporting the massive bulk of his new arms; these all were covered in a layer of fine fur, as well as his head and the snout he now sported. Wicked canines curved out beyond his lower jaw, protruding from his lips like sabers.

He would normally take on a form like this if he needed raw strength mixed with speed, but he could never maintain it by singing for himself. He was closer to tone-deaf than he was to talented, and had never been able to gauge just how musical something had to be before his magic would take hold; the more obviously musical something was, the longer he could maintain a form without hearing the music. His own lyrics rarely carried him beyond half a minute. Not more than five seconds had passed before he made a full evaluation of his new form and realized that if his visitor wasn?t aggressive, she might assume he was and put that fire to good use.

He twisted his magic around a second time, hoping it wouldn?t cause his ?song? to expire; he dropped all outward vestiges of his canine appearance, opting rather to maintain just the stronger skeletal structure, longer fingers, and claws on his hands and feet. After his fangs shrank back to a more manageable, human length, he was able to speak clearly.

?Who are you? Obviously not a Cleric of the Shrine.?

The short woman turned her head back, looking across her shoulder at him. Her long hair swung through the blue fire in her hand, but came out none the worse for wear.

?I am Azierxin.?

Acied blinked. ?My apologies, Goddess ? I was unaware of your corporeal form.?
Sara still didn?t draw out the short knife, but she didn?t secure it either. ?If she?s telling the truth,? she said.

Acied felt his features return to normal. ?That?s a mana-fire she?s holding. Azierxin maintains the flow of mana, and in our corporeal plane, faith-mana manifests as a flame. The only way a mage could safely hold a fire is if they had it under their control; only the most gifted pyromancers can hold fire and make it look like a normal flame, and even then, there?s never much of a need for them to hold up that masquerade.

?Call me trusting, but I?m inclined to believe her. Besides, you?re the telepath; open your mind to her and see if you feel a warm glow.?

After a moments pause, during which Azierxin turned to face Sara directly, the younger lady finally relaxed and clicked the catch on the harp. The end of the knife?s handle rested smoothly against the catch, blending together in what the two of them agreed was a fairly inconspicuous fashion.
Azierxin turned back to Acied and held the fire out towards him.

?Humans have a natural ability to create faith-mana. The more a human believes in something, the more empowered it becomes. To put your faith in another human, or a God, you can bathe them in the faith-mana. A human cannot perceive it unless its in great quantities, and they cannot harness it unless they?re directly consuming magic. Only the Gods can collect it and keep it from dissipating. This is a portion of the faith-mana the two of you have devoted to me; as thanks for devoting yourselves to me, I have chosen to return a portion of your gift to me back to you for your use. Being in the presence of it, unrestrained and uncontained, will allow you to draw further on your respective magicks than you thought previously possible. I will create a container to keep it from dissipating naturally; once you open it, it will begin to expire, especially in the presence of any external magic ? not just your own.

?Good luck for whatever you may use it for.? With that, she vanished, leaving behind a small jar with the fire twisting lazily inside of it and a crack of displaced air.

?Well?? Sara began.

??huh.? Acied finished.

After another confused silence, Sara finally pulled herself to the edge of the bed and dangled her legs over the edge, swinging them easily. ?I imagine it should last for a fair amount of time ? I don?t use magic,? she said. Acied nodded, staring at the fire.

Well, that?s just weird. A Goddess personally delivers a jar of what is basically essence of human to the human it was cultivated from.

That?s just? wow.
He blinked and shook his head. The motion failed to clear as much of the confusion away as he had hoped.



Lucas stepped away from the door to the Lipira Estate. His parents were immensely proud of him for becoming a direct Pactio to an Outer God ? and they were equally impressed by his new armor. It was a close call when his father opened his telepathy up ? Lucas was almost afraid he?d sense the duplicity about Liez?rial?s ability to seize complete control over his body, but the glorious presence of Liez?rial distracted him from focusing on Lucas.

Before letting the door shut behind him, he leaned back to the door and called in.

?Mother, Father, I?m leaving! You?ll want to see this!?

After a moments pause, the elder Lipira?s had gathered.

His father was named Marcus, and his mother was Angelia. The union between the two had born Lucas to Kaetir, and their family tradition had led him to worship the Outer Gods, and he in turn met Liez?rial at a Shrine to the Outer Gods.

Marcus and Angelia were both very much responsible for the majestic sight of their son, clad in platinum armor, leaping clear of the ground and pulling away from them faster than an arrow. He rolled over and angled back to the estate, coming back to hover in front of his parents. He held his mothers? hand between his and kissed it, and turned to his father and bowed down to him in midair. The two men grinned proudly at each other, and his mother smiled warmly.

With one last wave, he turned and pulled away from the ground, leaving his old home behind him. Ahead of him, the Shrine slowly grew from being an obscure smudge on the horizon to the ornate stone cathedral that he was familiar with.

As he touched down and strode to the gigantic double doors, he felt slightly uneasy.

I must be nervous about lying to Mother and Father about Liez?rial.

Without asking permission or giving warning, Liez?rial spoke into Lucas? mind. You didn?t lie. They never asked directly, and you weren?t required to tell the entire truth. In this case, the small white lie did no harm, and prevented them from growing worried. It was not an evil act ? and even if it were, the fact that you feel guilt over it means that you have nothing to worry about.

Lucas was confused by this for a moment, but decided to just do as the Puppet-master suggested and just accept the logic.

As you cross the threshold to the Shrine, declare ?Hail the Shrine and spread peace?. It?s an incantation tuned to the crystal bells the Clerics wear on their wrists ? it?ll let you in without disturbing McAre or his subordinates.

Lucas nodded and pushed the doors open, doing as Liez?rial said. Two crystals, one on either side of the door, let out a single resonate tone, as if replying to the incantation.

?Not sure why I?d need to ?sneak?, for lack of a better term, into the Shrine. I?d rather McAre knew I was here, in fact.?

I cannot predict a situation where you would have to sneak in, either ? but it is better to have the knowledge and know-how than to come upon such an alien situation and be unprepared. I will continue to advise you about as many things as I can, things I consider to be of note or importance. I won?t be offended if you choose not to note anything I bring up; I will only mention them because they are not common knowledge. How, when, where, and even if you?ll put it to use will be entirely up to you.

Lucas was silent for a moment. ?You know, you come dangerously close to repeating yourself a lot. Is that something a lot of Gods do, or just you??

I am otherwise occupied at the moment in the God?s Plane. You?d be surprised how much effort it takes to maintain your armor and hold a conversation with a Pactio and other Gods at the same time, especially for an Outer God such as myself.


Lucas strode along straight through the hall, going past the turn-offs to the rings and went to the doors to the courtyard. Once there, he leaned against the railing and relaxed.

?Where would we even start looking for this corruption??

And thus, Lucas, begins your adventure.



Alternatively, Ian McAre - and by extension, Liez'rial's voice-over - would be played by the dude who does the voice of JARVIS from the new Iron Man movies. Cuz he's got a cool voice.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 12, 2010, 07:33:03 PM
Contrary to what it seems like, Sefidicus is NOT actually the main character. I said earlier, there really is no main character, but rather the entire affiliation under Liez'rial and Sithenth. More will join them later, of course, and there are more players on the Seer's side of things that have yet to be introduced.
Sefidicus, being two parts rogue and scoundrel and one part bard is genuinely interested in information gathering, which is expanded upon here.



Chapter 8

Sifarus strode along at a brisk pace. He had his gauntleted hand stuffed into the pocket of the front of his billowing cloak, and let his other hand sway freely at his side, sheathed in a thick glove. The temperature had dropped since last he had visited the Galalid Isles, and their location in the southern hemisphere and proximity to the southern cap of Kaetir ? and their small size, as well ? caused for many cold winters, and even chilly summers. Cold ocean winds blew across the flat islands; thick coats were a common sight. Golden gilded hands weren?t a common sight anywhere, but since Galalid had numerous ports and ships going in and out several times a day, making it very easy for someone to attack him and steal his gauntlet ? and subsequently vanish to the far reaches of Kaetir ? he preferred to keep it hidden.

Sifarus himself couldn?t stand traveling by ship; small boats and skiffs made him motion sick. To even get to Galalid he had to wait for a large cargo boat to take him onboard; once he?d done that, he Shifted to Galalid whenever he needed to be there. It was much faster to do just that than wait for a ship, and cheaper.

The only reason he was there was the vast number of people coming and going ? the same reason the information brokers he was in search of had opened up shop here.

Merchant sailors were boisterous, noisy braggarts about the many things they?ve seen and done around the world. All it took was an attentive ear to hear the same story often enough to weed out the discrepancies and find the facts that people would pay for ? usually at prices high enough to afford the broker the necessary money to spend all day touring a rotation of bars and port-dives, and buy drinks for the tight-lipped sailors who seemed to know more about things than they let on.

There was no particular broker that Sifarus was in search of, but he did know who to go to for the cheapest fees-to-information rate, as well as a few people who owed him some favors. With his particular talents, though, he was just as sharp an ear to information as the richest broker.

He shivered against the cold and shrugged his shoulders, resettling his coat.

The bars were waiting.



Sifarus sneezed. The cold ocean breeze had pulled a fog in behind him, and he hadn?t known about it until the market he?d stepped into was completely blanketed. With it, the temperature had dropped considerably, and the wind was cutting through his coat.

?Bless you!? the lady sitting across from him replied to his sneeze.

He?d taken refuge in The Gusting Galley, an appropriately named bar rather close to one of the largest ports on this island of Galalid. Every time the door opened to admit another patron, the wind blew through and seemed to go straight for him.

?Thank you, Melissa,? he said. She didn?t seem to be affected by the cold weather; she had the foresight to have two layers of coats on, one of which was fur-lined. The mug of liquor she had in front of her was probably helping, too. Sifarus was considering getting himself a drink.

Melissa grinned at him as he sniffled. ?You?re looking for information on the Maging Guilds? What about, exactly??

Sifarus reached across the table and grabbed her mug. She wrapped her hand around his and squeezed it painfully to the mug, her grin unwavering as she held the mug pinned to the tabletop.

?You know, I know how this game works. If I ask for information you don?t know was in demand, you?ve made a free tip. How about you tell me what all you know about the Guilds and the conditions they?re in??

?Or how about the various generalizations of what I know about? And perhaps you can get your own bourbon??

Sifarus nodded and pried his hand free of hers. ?How about something that you always have juicy gossip on ? the leaders of the Guilds??

Melissa sat back and took a drag from her mug, having liberated it from Sifarus.

?You want stuff about the Seers or the Masters? Or just the teachers and trainers??

Sifarus grinned. ?How about the Seers and the Masters? How much do you know??

Melissa wiped her wrist across her mouth, wiping some of the excess moisture away.

?You know, just ?cause I?m so terribly amused by your chilliness, I think I?ll give you a discount. Two-for-one.
?Have you been to a Guild recently?? she asked.

?Just came from one, as a matter of fact. You know I?ve picked up the ability to Shift, right?? He raised his left hand and hailed a waiter over, asking for a mug that would match Melissa?s.

?Hon, I don?t even remember who you are. You?ve got to remember, I deal with several customers a day, and out of them, hardly any have distinguishing feat??

Sifarus brought his gilded right arm up on top of the table and set it down next to her mug.

??although one or two of them had golden hands. What was your name again??

?Sifarus Idikus, traveling bard. Give me a story to tell. And a swig of your bourbon.? He closed his hand around her mug again.

Melissa?s grin never faded once as she closed her hand over his again and dragged it back to the tabletop. The spikes on his gauntlet didn?t seem to bother her, and he felt her push against them and squeeze his hand against the mug. This time it wasn?t as painful, but it was still surprising. He surrendered to her hand and set the mug back down, noticing that the medallion had slid out of its grove and crept into the palm of his hand as best it could. Melissa was an Elemental Magus.

?You only get to drink from my mug if you give me information. We?ll see about that later.

?Now, about the Masters and Seers? since you?ve been to a Guild lately, have you noticed the apparently militant-style Mastery and training that the mages are undergoing? There?s been a surge of mages suddenly being trained, too ? normally there?s only about a hundred or so Magus graduating from the Guilds every year. Now, we?re up to roughly three hundred Magus a year from the smaller Guilds, and closer to five hundred from the large Guilds. This didn?t happen in the span of one year, either ? it?s been gradually increasing over the last eight years. About this time, most of the minor Masters have been promoted to Guild Master, and the former Guild Masters have either retired or moved on to the Order of Seers. Given the nature of the Order of Seers, it?s hard to tell who they are now. They?ve always been placing wards on themselves with arrays of crystals to keep people from reaching into their keeps mentally, and securing an audience takes a fair amount of time and requires agreeing to very in-depth mental scanning.
?The nature of most of the mages themselves is changing, too. Ordinarily, unless the Magus stumbles across their Condition or knew it before they enrolled in the guild, they could graduate from the Guild and continue on their lives until they mastered their Condition. You see, originally, the Guild taught the Magus trainees things more like virtue and discretion, in line with a scholarly academy with pious overtones, instead of a craftsman guild. People who were suspected to be Elementalists were urged upon to become guardians of nature, people who could safeguard their hometowns from natural disasters. Extinguish fires, reroute floodwaters, that sort of thing. Potential Clerics were usually recommended to join Monasteries and the like, where they could live virtuous lives. Alteration Magi typically stayed in the Guilds on their own accord, determined to find their magic and how to apply it in a useful fashion.
?Now, the Magi don?t graduate unless their Condition is discovered ? and now it seems as though the instructors are the ones finding it. They?re being taught things like elemental control, still, but they?re also being taught how to accurately aim their power, and how to conjure up the strongest concentrated form of their magic. Clerics aren?t being nudged towards the life of a monk, but that doesn?t seem to be affecting the number of Clerics in the general population now.
?On top of this, the most versatile form of magic ? Alteration ? seems to be becoming more and more destructive and controlling than a utility, or helpful form of magic. Rather than granting Magi things like telekinesis, or array magicks, there have been more reports of styles like voids and vortexes, body manipulation, wide area atmosphere disturbances and the like. Of course, that could just be a freak coincidence of nature and this trend will die down soon, but there have been whispers about the Seers being able to craft a Magus? abilities.?

Melissa sat back and took another draw from her mug. Sifarus drummed his fingers across his chin, absorbing all the information before offering up his own.

?I don?t know if this is good information for you or not, and it?s incredibly sensitive information considering the size and power of the Guild, but I think it?s necessary to spread the word.
?I?m a Pactio with Sithenth ? that?s how I have gained the ability to Shift ? and through him I?ve learned that the Outer Gods are mobilizing at the behest of the Inner Gods to find out just who it is that?s in charge of the Seers. They can?t glean their identity, so they?re sending the Outer Gods out to discover it. Pactios from all over will likely be coming through to get information, just like I am. We also need all the help we can get, so refer all the people who come seeking information to Sithenth, will you??
The waiter came back to the table, mug in hand, and set it in front of Sifarus. Melissa picked up her own mug and offered it up, calling for a toast.

?Well, then, that?s a fair trade then. I can toast to that, and if there?s anything left in my mug, you can have some finally.?

Sifarus tapped his mug to hers, and then took a long draw from it. He suppressed his shudder at the taste, and focused on the fact that it was numbing him enough to feel warm. He also did his best to ignore the aftertaste.

After he set his mug down and recomposed himself, he looked back up at Melissa. ?So how much will that information cost me??

?Could I have your gauntlet?? she asked, pointing through the table in the general direction of his arm. He lifted it slightly and looked down at it, then shook his head.

?This is more than a gauntlet for me, it has some special meaning ? and uses. I can?t just give it out, sorry,? he said, setting his arm down on the tabletop, doing his best to keep his coat sleeve from sliding off it. He rapped the table with his knuckles, exposing the spikes that formed when he made a fist.

?Well, I could?ve told you that. Not many people wear a gilded gauntlet for funsies. That?s actually why I want one ? something besides a dagger or sword to defend myself with.?

?Aren?t you an elemental Magus?? he asked. Melissa blinked in surprise.

?How would you know that??

He held his hand up now, letting the sleeve slip just enough to show the chains and medallion embedded in the bottom of his gauntlet.

?I said it had other uses ? not just punching things.? He straightened his fingers out, pulling the chains taut and the medallion free from its recession. ?My magic involves putting people at ease, calming them down. If I go overboard with it, I can push someone into a trance-like stupor, and aiding it with my medallion, like this ?? he wiggled his fingers, letting the medallion swing side to side ? ?can easily hypnotize people, letting me get information from them. After people have been hypnotized, I find it easier to get unbiased details out of them, influenced by neither ego nor prejudice. That, coupled with my interest in stories, makes me a very successful bard.?

He flicked his wrist, making the medallion jump back into its slot.

?After forming a Pactio with Sithenth, I asked him to enchant it so when I make contact with any Magi, the medallion moves in a set fashion. If it simply falls from the slot, the Magus is a Cleric. If it stays magnetized to the gauntlet, but slides into the palm of my hand ? or as close to it as it can get, say if I have my hand closed in a fist ? they?re an Elementalist. If it goes the other way, Alteration. Since I grabbed your mug with the gauntlet and you grabbed my gauntlet, the medallion moved in accordance to your magic. Thus, I know you?re an Elementalist.?

Melissa looked as his gauntlet with even more interest, watching as he pulled his sleeve back over his forearm, leaving just the golden hand and spikes revealed.

?It does this every time you touch a Magus?? she asked.

Sifarus shook his head. ?Only once a year, in case I?ve forgotten who someone is and don?t remember if they?re a Magus. Of course, that only happens if I can conveniently shake their hand or punch them before they can start using their magic. The odds of that happening are slim, but it?s still useful.?

?So how does it remember who everyone is??

He slid his hand back down to his side. He didn?t sense anyone appraising its value from across the room, but he didn?t feel like advertising that he had what looked like gold wrapped around his hand.

?There?s a crystal somewhere that it stores the information in.?

Melissa blinked and sat back, swirling her mug lightly. ?Somewhere??

He nodded. ?Yeah, I lost it. Wherever it is, it?s still doing what it?s supposed to, though. Probably somewhere in Kenun.?

Melissa laughed. ?And what would you have been doing in Kenun? There?s nothing to do there.?

?Probably nothing. You want my bourbon? I can?t stand it, I?d rather just leave and go somewhere warmer.? He pushed his mug towards her and rose.

?I?ll make you a gauntlet of your own, but I assume you don?t want a medallion in it? And would you like it to have a golden finish, or just leave it steel-gray??

Melissa set her mug down, now empty, and picked up his. ?No medallion, gray. How do I know you?ll bring it to me, rather than just running off with my information?? Sifarus noticed that her mug had a small layer of frost around the handle, and his was slowly growing a matching ring around her hand. She had her magic active.

Acting as though he hadn?t spotted the sudden growth of ice, he reached into his coat and pulled out one of his small pouches of coin. He dropped the entire pouch in front of her. ?Consider that my security deposit. I?ll expect a small portion of it back when I bring you the gauntlet, of course; also, I?ll be coming back to get the measurements of your arm and the like.?

He blinked, then reached back down to the pouch and loosened the drawstring, and knocked it over, spilling out a few coins. These he plucked up, ignoring Melissa?s blank stare.

?The bill for the drinks, of course.? He nodded at her and strode to the bar, leaving them on the top and telling the keeper what they were for. Melissa watched him the entire time, gently swirling the mug again as a habit. She held up her free hand and condensed some of the moisture in the air, making a small sphere of ice, which she tipped into the mug before taking another swig of the liquor.




No, Sefidicus isn't secretly also a blacksmith. He just has a large network of contacts.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 12, 2010, 07:38:58 PM
If by the end of this chapter you don't think Sara is the most adorable person in the imaginary cast, I've done something wrong.



Lucas blinked groggily.

The sun comes up too damn early.

He rolled over in the bed and let his arm dangle over the edge. Huffing noisily into the pillow, he stared at the wall nearest his head. He could feel his hair sticking up in each direction, but just couldn?t muster the energy to care about it. Instead, he squirmed about until he had slipped further under the blanket, and pulled it over his head again, shielding his eyes from the light seeping through the window.

He was still at the Shrine, having returned yesterday since informing his parents what had happened. The other four travelers were still at the Shrine, and of course the monks and Clerics would be there for an indefinite period of time. Lucas was thinking of joining the other four, just to give him a place to go to immediately.

He let his mind start to wander, and began to slip back into a sleep-state. He felt as though a warm fog was enveloping him, and as though his body had started to float to a gentle rhythm.

After a few minutes of him loafing in bed, Sara got tired of sitting in the lone chair plucking at her harp and set it down next to the Heaven?s Headpiece on the table. She promptly threw herself on top of Lucas with a playful shout.

Startled, Lucas jumped, feeling as though the entire world was exploding around him, his head pounding in alarm. Sara yanked the blanket he was huddling under off of him, bundled it up, and flung it at his head. She waited for him to flail enough to get it off of his face, then pulled the pillow out from under him and started beating on him with it.

Desperate to escape the torment, Lucas clutched the edge of the bed and heaved himself off, tumbling to the floor in a glorious mess of bedclothes and wild hair. Sara managed to keep herself on the bed proper, sitting there looking rather pleased with herself.

Lucas, now free of pillow torment, took the moment of respite to take in his surroundings. Unfortunately, in his sleep-fogged state, he still couldn?t make sense of anything, especially from the floor.

?Wake up!? Sara shouted at him from the bed, making Lucas nearly jump out of his skin.



Damian and Acied both were in the dining hall, sitting at the same table, both clutching mugs of coffee and glaring out from under heavy eyelids, Damian?s hair obscuring the left side of his face.

With a whisper of fabric on wood, and a clatter of wood on stone tiles, Lucas ? still clad in a loose pair of pants and a light shirt ? sat down and joined them. The two of them aimed their glares at him to make certain that Lucas was the one joining them, and nodded at him as he glared back at them. Damian raised his mug and offered it to Lucas, who took it graciously and drank a long draw from it.
Keroth and Sara both came to the table at the same time, both cheery enough for the entire group. Keroth took his chair and spun it around, setting it next to Damian and straddling it. Sara pulled her chair closer to Acied and leaned on his shoulder, humming to herself and smiling comfortably.

Keroth reached over and pulled Damian?s mug out of his hands as the senior Paladin went to go take a drink. Damian groped towards his face, confused about the lack of his mug until Keroth handed it back.

?This isn?t like you, Damian. Normally you don?t have any problem waking up at the crack of dawn.?
Keroth felt his cheerful grin waver under the assault of the combined glares of Acied and Damian.

?Normally I don?t have someone leap on me and beat the ever-loving crap out of me while I?m still asleep. I think I?ve woken up to surprise assaults from Zealots with less shock to my system. You?re lucky I didn?t beat you back, Oberos.? Damian tipped his mug back, chugging as much of his coffee as he could before someone else took it from him.

Lucas looked across the table at Acied. ?You put up with this every day? How are you not a hollowed-out shell of a man yet??

Acied grunted. He remained silent for a few moments, leading Lucas to believe he was being ignored until he finally answered. He started with another grunt, and followed it with ?Sara and I are on different circadian rhythms. Since she has to stay awake to keep the music going for me for so long, she tends to sleep more during the day and wakes up earlier in the morning. And, yes, she does wake me up like this practically every day we go somewhere with a comfortable bed.?

Sara leaned against him a little harder and let her self-pleased smile spread even further.



After a successful round of coffee by the three assaulted men, they felt suitably awakened. Damian quietly plotted his revenge against Keroth, but put it out of his mind once the group had decided on breakfast and spoke with the monks working in the kitchens about helping. The monks politely declined the offer for help, telling them to rest at the tables while they cooked for them. As they returned to their seats, Sara continued to squirm about, inadvertently causing her cheeriness to wear off on the older Paladin and the Puppet Master?s Pactio.

Lucas slumped over on the table and laid his head down on the top, heaving a weary sigh. Keroth peered at him.

?You don?t seem tired enough anymore, to heave such a sigh. What ails you?? he asked.

Lucas tipped his head over, so he was lying on one ear and could see from the vast expanse of the table, to the wall, then finally the ceiling.

?I would like to join you as you travel. Being a Pactio to a God, especially one that hands you a suit of flying armor, doesn?t make much sense to stay in one place forever. I don?t know what I?ll do when I get there, or what may happen on the way, but I feel I should start traveling. Especially considering the things Liez?rial has told me about,? he said.

Keroth clapped him on the back, inadvertently causing him to rock forward just enough to make his cheek stick painfully to the tabletop for a moment, before saying, ?Of course! Since you can fly on your own, Acied won?t be burdened by your weight. Since Damian and I ??

At this, Damian cut him off by holding his hand up, and beckoned for Lucas? attention.

?Through my actions I caused Keroth and myself to be dismissed from our posts at the Rispaire Maging Guild. We?re on our way to the west, to the coast itself. Rispaire has been our home for too long; we?re going back to our actual hometown. Once we?re there, we?re probably going to relocate to another one of the Maging Guilds ? most likely the Koleir Maging Guild ? and take up swordsman training positions. Acied has said he has no final destination in mind, either, and is helping us get there as payment for a favor Keroth did him. Sara is Acied?s traveling companion.
?As you can see, we?re not really a collective group ? just travelers banding together for convenience?s sake. You are, of course, welcome to join us ? my only condition is that you pass on anything Liez?rial says to us.?

At this, Sara calmed down long enough to interject, ?Or I could. I?ve been talking to him for a while now.?

Lucas blinked in surprise. Liez?rial, is that true?

Liez?rial, still using the voice of McAre, echoed back to him, It?s true. She?s a telepath just like you are; any telepath can theoretically seek me out and start conversing with me.

Lucas wiped the confusion off his face. See, now, that?s something I should?ve been able to figure out on my own, but I would?ve appreciated knowing that altogether.

?That?s easy enough. Remember, though, there?s nothing to stop me from just following you on my own,? he said to the Paladins.

Damian stared at him coldly. ?I like to think that a pair of Paladins, trained to work in tandem, could take on a country boy with no combat experience. It shouldn?t come to that, of course, but it would be good to establish now that we are not worth making enemies out of. It won?t come to that from any of our actions, so do your best not to offend our current companions or ourselves. Do not harbor fantasies of grandeur just because you have the Icarian Armor ? not only against us, but also to anyone who would do you harm. However, of course, if we had decided to reject your request to follow us to Koleir and you followed us anyways, we would have no reason to draw swords against you unless we needed to defend ourselves. But do not assume that we are ?nothing?.?

Despite Damian?s cold tone of voice and that he was staring intently at him, Lucas was more disturbed by the fact that Keroth was still grinning. The amused light in his eyes was extinguished, however, and replaced by a cold cunning shadow. The fact that he was obviously so prepared to suit actions to words just because his comrade-in-arms was offended, and had easily sized Lucas up before the younger man had even noticed Keroth was looking at him as a predator, was the cause for his discomfort.

He pulled his head up off the table. ?Forgive me for being impudent, but, I think that I would be smarter than that. For one, I wouldn?t try to start a fight with a pair of Paladins ? actual soldiers. Two, I wouldn?t actually start anything with anyone while in a Shrine full of Clerics. They?d heal the wounds then lock our minds in a stupor for a week just to drive home their philosophy of ?no violence?.

?And of course, I wouldn?t want to make Liez?rial think he?d picked an idiot to be his newest Pactio.?

Damian nodded, and started to stare off into space. He absently took another draw from his mug of coffee, still waiting for the cooks to finish with their breakfast. Keroth had gone back to watching the events with an aloof attitude.

Lucas was surprised at how easily the two of them shifted between being combat ready to relaxing again. He was a little bothered by Damian assuming he was being egotistical, but he acknowledged that the Paladin had a very valid point. Swinging the swords of his armor through the air was much different than actually being in the thick of a fight.

?So how much fighting have the two of you actually seen?? Acied asked.

Damian blinked over the rim of his mug and looked at him. Once he registered that Acied was talking to him, he set his mug down and pushed his hair aside, revealing his blind eye. When Acied and Lucas leaned in to take a closer look, they noticed that the scar traced a line through the pupil, which was a lighter shade of gray than the opposite orbit.

?I?ve seen enough, I guess you could say.?

Keroth let out a single chuckle.




What? A one-eyed swordsman? How does that work? Simple -
SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO READ IT TO FIND OUT SOCIAL LINKS SOCIAL LINKS SOCIAL LINKS
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 16, 2010, 07:16:23 PM
This one is a kinda-small update because the next part will be XBAWKS HEUG :O



Sifarus sat down on a stone hedge. He couldn?t recall off the top of his head where he was at the moment, but it was warmer than Galilad. As a result, he was attracting a few weird stares from passersby for wearing his coat.

He heaved a yawn and stretched, reclining on the bench-like hedge. A part of his brain wandered off to try to figure out where he had ended up, but the other part was more interested in finding something to eat on top of the bourbon he?d just ingested, before it started to wreak havoc on his liver, which wasn?t used to any form of alcohol.

Just as he was considering leaving this mystery location by way of Shifting again, Sithenth spoke into his head, echoing as per usual.

Return to Kosid. Liez?rial?s new Pactio is there, and they?ll be traveling to Koleir. They have a very peculiar mage with them who can help you get around, and Liez?rial?s Pactio has agreed to help the Outer Gods in their assignment.

?Oh? How interesting, traveling with Liez?rial again. With pleasure.
?But, where exactly is Kosid, again??

If a God without a body could breathe, Sifarus was certain he would?ve heard the most contemptuous sigh come heaving from Sithenth.

The place you formed a Pactio with me. You go places, but you never learn their names.

?More fun that way!? he said. He deliberately ignored the odd looks he got from the passersby who turned to glance at his outburst and his previous dialogue.

With that, he Shifted, leaving the stone bench and confused pedestrians behind, threading a path through the ethereal world that was slightly out of phase with the real world.



Lucas looked up. Something felt different all of the sudden. Not wrong, per se, but strangely off ? as though someone had suddenly shoved all the furniture in the room to one side by only a few inches all at once while he wasn?t looking.

Finding nothing out of place, including the furniture, he turned his attention back to the book he was reading. This one was about the Maging Guilds and their relationship with the general public of Kaetir; one McAre had recommended he look up after having been informed of Liez?rial?s plan and situation.

He felt the sensation of oddness again, and looked around one more time. He was still in the first-floor library wing, and all the furniture was right he left it. So what was bothering him? He felt as though the air pressure hiccupped at him.

Since nothing presented itself, and he didn?t feel the need to put his guard up, he went back to his book. After a minute of uninterrupted reading, the library door swung open easily, and McAre strode through, looking left and right.

?Afternoon, Lucas. Have you seen anyone else in here?? he asked. Lucas shook his head.

?Could you open your telepathy up then, for me? The bracelet says someone?s just come into the Shrine, via this library.?

Lucas blinked in surprise, and after a moments pause finally agreed with a nod. He carefully took the mental guards down from around his mind, certain that McAre would be able to protect him from any harm, but still probing carefully through his surroundings mentally. Details and textures of the objects surrounding him filled his mind in exquisite perfection as he washed his awareness over it. He felt McAre?s body, steadily maintaining the necessary homeostasis needed to keep him functioning.

It only took him an instant to perceive everything that he felt, and to expand the radius of his awareness. Due to the nature of the human mind, though, with such a broad focus taking in so much detail at once, many of the nuances were lost to him. Only the continued activity in McAre?s mind, and the beating of his heart stayed in his mind.

However, once he spread his consciousness over the entirety of the room, he detected another heart and mind. A rather vocal mind, too; it was another telepath.

Finally! Those are some iron hard barriers you have around your head, young man. It?s very hard to get your attention. I suppose the Cleric is looking for me? Let him know I?m between the third and fourth bookshelves along the left wall.

Lucas pulled his focus on the man?s presence, which was right where he said it was. Why don?t you just come out, or speak up? he asked.

An expression similar to a chuckle issued from the man?s mind. Same reason he?s looking so concerned. Apparently, if you come into this Shrine the wrong way a ward is put on you, which immobilizes your body. That includes your vocal cords, too.

?Between the third and fourth bookshelves along the left wall,? he said to McAre. With that, he turned back to reading his book. The other man?s voice issued a Thanks, before falling silent, waiting for McAre to discover his disabled body.

It was nearly a minute before McAre was able to get to the man?s location, due to the size of the bookshelves and their distance from the library lounge. Once he was in the same aisle as the other man, Lucas closed his mind again.

It took him a moment to realize that people don?t just appear in the middle of a library, and usually not telepaths. He slid the leaf he was using as a bookmark into the spine of the book and closed it, rising from the table and striding along in McAre?s wake.

As he rounded the end of the row of bookshelves, he heard the Cleric chuckle. ?So, we meet again. I?m terribly sorry, I?ve forgotten your name, and I?m not the one who will be undoing the ward on your body. The Cleric who will be unbinding you should be here shortly, and I?m not a telepath. I can?t communicate with you, aside from our little one-sided conversation here. Perhaps I should get Lucas??

?I?m here,? Lucas said as he announced his presence. He reached out mentally to the man, gesturing towards him so as to catch his attention.

Ah, you?re back. Well, you look nothing like how you?re mentally projected; did you know that? The man said.

?Nope. Need to say anything while you?re waiting for the other Cleric to come in?? he asked in reply.

The man closed his eyes. Well, I?d like to know why the senior Cleric here couldn?t unbind me, and my name is Sifarus. The Cleric and I have met before, a couple weeks ago. Otherwise, I think I?d be all right waiting.

McAre had stooped over the odd man, and pulled his legs out from under him and straightened his arms out. ?Now he won?t be revived with limbs that have fallen asleep. You can thank me later,? he said to Sifarus.

?McAre, his name is Sifarus, and he should be okay while waiting to be unbound. Sifarus, in answer to your question, McAre here can?t? eh, unlock his condition on his lonesome. He?d need another one of the Clerics here with him, and if that?s the case they?ll be the one to unlock the ward on you.?

Ah, ha. Makes sense.

McAre looked back at Lucas as he straightened up, one eyebrow raised and grinning slightly. He nodded at the young man.

Lucas stood there stupidly, feeling awkward in the silence while waiting for the second Cleric. He didn?t know exactly what to do when someone was just lying about, contentedly tittering away in the confines of their own mind while their body was snatched away from them, and he supposed that?s what he?d be undergoing whenever Liez?rial took control of his limbs.

Finally he heard the door open, and the second Cleric strode in. Lucas took the opportunity to return to the table he?d been sitting at, and collected his book. While the Clerics dealt with this newcomer, he decided to go and find where the Paladins and Acied were; having the book around would be a good way to bring up the subject of why he was traveling and what Liez?rial wanted with him.

Something about the mental image the man projected, his cheery presence, seemed to put Lucas at ease. Part of his mind knew that it could easily be an act, but he didn?t trouble the Clerics, aside from having to track him down and restore the use of his muscles. Things should be all right without him present, he mused.



No, Lucas, it's not an act, Sifarus is just that cheery and affable.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Esifex on December 16, 2010, 08:01:29 PM
XBAWKS HEEEEEUUUUUUUG



After asking several of the wandering monks, he finally gleaned the location of his companions. He could’ve just opened his mind, as he did in the library, but short of digging through the various minds he would’ve felt, he would’ve had no way to tell who was who unless they were telepathic and wanted to be found.

So, he found himself back in the center courtyard that their group had come into, where he found the Paladin, Keroth, listening to Sara as she strummed absently at her harp.

The girl was sitting on one of the handrails that lined the spacious courtyard, leaning against one of the pillars that dotted the covered walkways, holding the very coverings up and in place. Keroth had opted to stay on solid ground, but instead of standing under the awnings on the stone tiles that made up the open-air corridors, he was standing on the grass, leaning against the same rail that Sara was sitting on. Lucas came up to the railing, opposite of Keroth, and leaned against it as well. He nodded past Keroth at Sara before bowing his head slightly to the senior swordsman. He kept the book closed in his hands, letting it hang against the pull of gravity.

“Keroth, if I may – I’ve been wondering something about you and Damian.”

The Paladin turned away from Sara and looked blankly at him. “Lots of people wonder about us. Its just part of the way I act, I suppose, that makes people curious.”

Lucas paused, considering the Paladin’s words. “Actually, it was mostly about Damian. He’s blind in one eye, but he’s worked in a Maging Guild for I don’t even know how long, and I’d assume that a battalion of Paladins would have a squad of Clerics nearby just in case something like that happened. Why hasn’t it been healed?”

Keroth’s blank expression became slightly blanker as he stared off into space. “You know, I really don’t know why. That’s actually a good question, one that never dawned on me to ask. If you’d like, I could find out for you,” he offered.

Lucas looked at Sara to gauge her reaction. As was usual for the energetic girl, she seemed to have an amused smile on her face. She had stopped playing a tune and was just strumming in melodic chords now, while the two men talked.

“At the very least, find out for your sake. He’s your partner, after all.”

Keroth chuffed, and shook his head. “A lot of things nowadays escape my notice. It’s a wonder I didn’t get a sword through my neck during the Cleansing.”

Sara gasped at him. “Shame! No depressing thoughts like that, sir! From what Liez’rial and Damian told me, you’re an excellent fighter who was never surprised. We all have our moments, so you’re allowed to be a little absent-minded when you’re at peace.”

Keroth looked at her and studied her for a bit. “Damian’s been talking to you, has he?”

She stopped playing the harp altogether and hugged it to her chest. “I’ve been talking to Damian. Acied’s been too busy praying to do any conversing, so it’s up to me. Damian’s not here right now, it’s you, so now it’s your turn to be talked to.”

Lucas blinked. This girl was hard to keep up with.

He also did his best to ignore how the harp was affecting her chest. He turned his attention to the book in his hands, lifting it up into a better position to read it in.

Before he could say anything about it, Keroth reached over and clapped his hand on Lucas’ forearm, nearly knocking the book out of his hands.

“Well, like the girl said, I’m absent-minded when I’m at peace, but sharp and in control when I’m not. Damian said you’d be no match for us, but let’s just see how far his words go, shall we? How about a little sparring match, or perhaps you’d rather call it training?”

Lucas blinked and worked his jaw up and down, before finally producing a reply. “Uh, I’d be honored to train with you. When?”

Keroth patted his thigh. There was a rustle of fabric on metal; he slipped his hand into his pocket, and pulled the hilt of his dagger out. The hand-guard caught on his pocket, tripping him up.

“Eh, normally, they have special slots in my armor that they can slide in and out of without complications… like this…” he tugged at his pocket, freeing his dagger from the fabric.

“Well, then, in that case, let me get the armor.” Lucas straightened up, and set the book down on the rail.

Liez’rial suddenly spoke up in his mind; Of course. Lucas felt the dull fog fall across his mind, and he stepped away from the railing without actually willing it. He held his arms out slightly, then hopped lightly into the air by pushing off with his feet; while he was suspended, weightless at the top of his jump, he felt a bit of a rush and there was a muffled pop of displaced air. The armor was suddenly on him, and he held the swords in his hands.

Rather than landing, he stayed suspended just a few inches off the ground. The fog lifted from his mind.

Keroth nodded at him, his other dagger in his hand. “Very impressive. We’ll take this into the center of the courtyard, so we have some room to work with.” He backpedaled away from Sara and the railing, stepping over anything that would’ve tripped him up without actually looking to see where he was planting his feet. His situational awareness really did seem to pick up and take hold when he was ready to fight. Lucas filed the thought away from future reference.

Making sure to hold the blades so the martingales didn’t drag across Sara, and the large wings on the hilts of his swords didn’t slap against her, Lucas rose over the railing and let himself glide forward.

Keroth flipped one of his daggers into the air, and snatched it so it was in a reverse handed grip. He held the dull edge against his forearm, and held that arm in front of his torso. The other dagger was held upright, as though he were going to use it as a sword, and this hand was kept lower, to his side. He wiggled the reserved dagger slightly, beckoning Lucas forward.

“I suppose it would be a bit unfair of me to throw my swords against you, since it’d be such a massive advantage of range and all-”

Keroth cut him off with a short laugh. “Lucas, I’ve fought alongside Liez’rial before. I know what to expect. If you can think of anything to use against me, use it. I’ve been in many fights, against soldiers who fought with pole arms, spears, bows and arrows, and even against Magus. And, no offense to you, but I’m sure they were all combat-trained. Fight me to the best of your abilities. If either of us gets injured, the Clerics here will patch us up.”

Lucas nodded, and promptly flicked a sword straight at Keroth.

Keroth blinked and grinned as the sword came rocketing towards him; he hopped up, bending his knees and tucking his legs under him, giving the sword plenty of room to pass underneath him without touching him. He swung his leading hand in an arc below him, knocking the blade to the side and getting the martingale out from under him.

Since he was only physically a human, and lacked telekinesis or magic to aid in his leap, he didn’t stay airborne for very long. As he touched down, he spun away from the sword and the chain that connected it to the young swordsman. Continuing his turn, he used the momentum to help him push off towards the armored youth.

Lucas reared backwards, and upwards. He yanked on the chain, pulling it back. It coasted past Keroth, snapping back into his hand with a slap of metal on chain.

With the other sword, Lucas heaved back to swing it, but realized too late that the extra motion was wasted; Keroth had already closed the distance and was holding the reversed dagger out to catch the long sword. Crossing his arms over, he hooked the blade Lucas had thrown and tried to apply pressure to it in an attempt to remove the winged blade from his grasp.

Since Liez’rial was always working to make the blades manageable, he was ready for the trick and kept the blade firmly rooted to Lucas’ hand. Push your arms down. He’s got himself pinned with –

Before Liez’rial could finish, Keroth planted his foot on Lucas’ chest and heaved away from him. The spry man fell backwards and hit the ground, sliding a short distance across the grass before curling over backwards and pushing off with his hands, flipping upright. Before he completely touched down, Lucas began to advance forward, all the wings attached to the armor proper angling backwards. He crossed the long-swords in front of his chest and turned them to present the flat edges forwards.

As Keroth spotted his advance, he reacted just as fluidly as he did to his first attack failing. As soon as his feet made contact with the ground, he continued his arc and fell backwards again, slipping away from Lucas’ charge as though he were made of water.

Because Lucas was gliding, and kept one knee bent and turned, Keroth’s foot wasn’t able to kick all the way to his groin, and instead struck his shin. Despite it not landing where Keroth was aiming, the kick still surprised Lucas and he recoiled his legs upwards, away from the now supine man. As he somersaulted, he twisted about so he’d be facing the way he came when he righted himself. Rather than continue floating above the ground, Lucas let himself fall completely to the ground. As soon as he landed, he swung one blade in a small arc in front of him and threw the other in a wider arc, snatching the martingale before it uncoiled out to its full length. Keroth didn’t rise off the ground into the path of either, but he flipped over on the ground and put his hands under his shoulders, still clutching his daggers tightly.

After the thrown blade passed over him, he pushed off the ground and got his feet back under him. Lucas took the sword that was still in his hand and slashed back in the way he’d taken it from. Keroth ducked under that blade, almost bringing his daggers together to deflect it before deciding to just dodge it. He was a bit surprised when Lucas didn’t catch the other long-sword, instead whirling it around again. Because of the angle he’d thrown it, however, the blade dipped downwards, and Keroth pushed off of the ground and flipped over the blade, narrowly pulling his shins away from the point of the blade. Keroth shoved against the blade with his dagger, disturbing the swing and driving the sword against the ground.

Distracted by the blade striking the ground with a dull thud as it sliced into the grass, followed by a sharp retort as it struck a rock and stopped dead, Lucas didn’t notice Keroth’s flip bringing the Paladin’s boot down.

Though he was only wearing leather boots, the impact still shoved the Heaven’s Headpiece down against Lucas’ cranium hard enough to daze him. He nearly dropped the other long-sword.

Rather than drop it, though, he gave himself a sharp shake of the head to clear the stars that threatened to edge into his vision, and turned the sword he still held sideways and heaved downward with it. The flat of the blade struck Keroth down his back just shy of his spine, and he grunted in surprise.

Lucas wrapped the extended blade’s martingale around his hand, taking up some slack and getting a sturdy grip on it before he snatched it back. The blade freed itself from the ground with a small shower of dirt and sliced grass and coasted backwards through the air, mimicking his first throw in reverse.

Once he had the blade back in his hand, he settled his grip on both long-swords and pulled himself backwards through the air, coming to a halt a half a meter above the ground and two away from Keroth.

Keroth let go of his daggers and put one hand across the small of his back, pushing against the ground with his other hand until he rolled over with a groan. A fine layer of dirt powdered his left cheek.
Lucas didn’t realize that Sara had been playing her harp until she stopped and hopped off the railing, making her way to Keroth. Lucas turned the swords down and stabbed them into the ground, and let himself fall out of the air and stooped down to help Keroth sit up.

“You’re not hurt, are you? Should I send Sara to get a Cleric?” he asked.

The Paladin shook his head and let out a small cough. “No, don’t worry about it. Just got the wind knocked out of me, and hitting the ground with your mouth open in surprise tends to invite dirt in.
“I’ve been hit by worse. Don’t worry about me; Sara, could you continue playing your harp for us?”

Lucas looked up and met Sara’s gaze, and they exchanged nods. Lucas offered his hand down to Keroth, who let the youth help him up. Once he was back on his feet, Sara retreated to the far side of the railing she had been sitting on, and Lucas pulled himself backwards through the air until he was between his blades, still sticking out of the ground. He reached out and wrapped his hands around the grips, grinning at Keroth.

The Paladin returned the grin and collected his daggers.



Damian and Acied both stared at the man wearing the heavy coat. He stared back, a very silly grin slowly falling off his face. Neither of the two men seemed to share his enthusiasm at his sudden arrival, or his request.

“So… You want to join us as we travel westward. Because you know Acied can shape-shift into something big enough to carry us.”

Sifarus nodded. “Yeah, two for two so far.”

Acied focused his stare a little harder on the man, who still hadn’t taken off his coat. “Without ever having met us.”

The bard looked at him. “Well, I’ve never met you, no, but nothing says I haven’t met the Paladins here. What are your names, again?”

Damian and Acied exchanged glances, before staring Sifarus down again. “You can understand why we’d be wary of just handing our names out to people we don’t know yet, especially ones who come out of nowhere – wearing a massive coat, no less – and start discussing someone’s magic, someone he’s never met before, without even giving his name in exchange.”

Sifarus paused, grin slowly fading. “Ah, yes, of course. Sifarus Idikus, traveling storyteller. Lesser-known fact, too; Pactio to the Outer God, Sithenth.
“That’s the important thing. Being one of Sithenth’s Pactios means that I’m a little more influenced by his plans than the average mortal is. Tends to happen to a lot of Pactios, actually. I understand Liez’rial is here with his Pactio?”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Look, bard, you appeared out of nowhere, you started spouting nonsense like you’re everyone’s buddy, and you seem to expect us to trust you. You’re not doing a very good job at the moment. Why don’t you come with us, and tell us what exactly it is that you need and what you want to do.”

Acied sighed and turned away, striding off without waiting for Damian or Sifarus to follow. The young bard pointed after him, one eyebrow cocked. Damian nodded once and turned after the silent traveler, scowling slightly. So much for just going from Rispaire to Koleir.

Acied was heading to the center courtyard at a rapid pace, not waiting for Damian to catch up, nor giving the impression that he was concerned with the distance he was putting between them. Sifarus came up alongside Damian, and pardoned himself. The Paladin allowed him to get in front of him; the youth seemed to know he would be more comfortable having Sifarus in his sight, rather than behind him.

Damian began to search his memories; Sifarus had said there was a chance that he’d met Damian before, but he said ‘the Paladins’, implying Keroth as well. It could’ve just been that he knew Paladins worked in pairs; that wouldn’t explain him knowing that Damian was a Paladin, though. He wasn’t wearing his armor, and preferred to keep it off unless he felt danger was afoot.

While Sifarus had his arms stuffed in his coat pockets, and he probably thought he was being real clever about hiding his right arm, but Damian had spotted the slight glimpse of gilded metal coming up his forearm, and could see the bulky outline through the coats’ pocket. Natural human flesh didn’t have such a profile. Was the bard an old soldier, perhaps a Paladin himself? Or was he just a mercenary who knew a soldier when he saw one, and took a shot in the dark about Damian being a Paladin? Either he was a great, overconfident fool to act so suspicious around a soldier, or an incredibly clever young rogue.

Ahead, Acied shoved a door open, and stopped to hold it for the two stragglers. Sifarus nodded to him as he stepped through.

“Thank you,” he said. Acied nodded back.

Damian let Sifarus pass through and get a little further ahead before he allowed himself to step through the door. “What do you think?” he uttered to Acied.

The shape-shifter shrugged. “McAre says he’s been here before. We can ask the Cleric about him later, get some confirmation on his story, and his claim to be a Pactio. I myself think it’s a little convenient for two Pactio’s to show up and want to go to the same place. There is, of course, the chance that their respective Gods – Liez’rial and Sithenth – spoke to each other and decided to have these particular Pactios travel together for some reason. Personally, I want to talk to Lucas about Liez’rial; something is missing here.”

Damian absorbed the input and marched forward, catching up with Sifarus as the bard realized that he wasn’t originally leading and had no clue where they were taking him. The young man turned back to face him, charming smile back on his face. Damian gestured further down the hallway that stretched out ahead of them.

They had started their small trek through the Shrine in the library Sifarus was found in; the bard had opted to stay there and asked McAre if he could talk to ‘the Mage that just recently arrived here, the one who’s traveling’. McAre retrieved Acied and Damian together, deciding they were the ones in charge of the group. From there, they had left the library to the intermediate hallways. Acied was taking them towards the center courtyard, which seemed to be as good a place as any to start looking for the other three.



Apparently, Acied could home in on his energetic companion. That was Damian’s theory, at least.

What surprised him more, however, was the sparring match between Keroth and Lucas, being musically accompanied by Sara.

The older Paladin and the enigmatic self-proclaimed bard blinked at the fight, and Acied flinched at the sound of Lucas’ long-sword being parried by Keroth. The bard stepped closer to the handrail that Sara was perched on, and leaned across it for a better look, resting on his left arm.

After Keroth had parried Lucas’ attack, he rushed in close to the younger man. Unable to prevent this, the Pactio began to close his arms around, trying to pin Keroth.

The Paladin didn’t stay close for very long; after flicking the flat of one of his daggers against the chest-piece of Lucas’ armor, he dropped fluidly and darted under his opponents’ legs. What would’ve ordinarily been a difficult maneuver was simplified by Lucas’s altitude; unlike a normal combatant, Lucas was able to keep himself off the ground, and hovered at a height of two feet.

Sifarus returned Sara’s nod when she noticed his arrival, and smiled at her. After slightly nodding in tune with the melody Sara was playing, he took a deep breath and straightened himself upright.

“A lone man stands atop cliff-side, who’s blades seem to sing, (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5juc6fmgylw#t=2m32s)
He takes to skies, with Heaven’s granted wings
Mountains and isles, seasons ne’er the same,
Pious and free, a faceless man without a name
Skies are limitless, seas with endless shores,
The Gods Man travels all ‘cross the world
Many a different man, with many a different heart,
They are all remembered long, in the tales of the bards

He is the Gods Man, light of the Lords
Life forsaken, family ‘n’ tears left long ago.”

Sara turned her attention to the man during his sonnet. Halfway through, she altered her melody to match his.

Acied buried his face in his hand. “I was afraid of this,” he mumbled. Damian cast a sidelong glance at him.

“Afraid of what?”

“That he really was a bard. Unless you can convince Sara otherwise, we’re going to be forced to take him with us.”

Damian kept his face neutral. He was mildly amused by this notion; Acied may be the shape-shifter and the arbiter to their travels, but Sara was the one who was truly in charge. If she didn’t agree with Acied’s choice or actions, she could simply deny him the music he needed to unlock his power. It hadn’t dawned on Damian until then, but he mused that it wouldn’t’ve occurred to him that such an energetic young girl could also be clever enough to keep Acied wrapped about her finger.

During Sifarus’ short song, Lucas and Keroth had continued fighting. Much to Lucas’ dismay, Keroth had managed to rap his daggers against the chest of Liez’rial’s armor multiple times, as opposed to his earlier, and only, strike against the Paladin.

With a single strong flex of the many wings adorning his armor, he pulled himself up into the air, out of Keroth’s reach. He relaxed his arms, but kept his grip on the swords.

“Okay, I forfeit for this round. I’m getting winded, and it looks like our companions have something to say.” Lucas allowed Liez’rial to seize control of his body and holster the blades, while dropping to the ground at the same time. Liez’rial returned control of his body, teasing Lucas for a moment in his mind. I promise I’ll work on learning how to do that on my own soon enough, Puppet master.

Keroth hopped back and forth from one foot to the other, slowly wind-milling his arms twice before stretching them out straight in front of his chest. Rather than try to slip the blades back into the cloth sheaths sewn into the sides of his trousers, he kept the daggers in a reverse-handed grip and strode over to the handrail. He nodded at Sara, and sized Sifarus up.

“That was the first verse of the song about Liez’rial, wasn’t it?” he asked. The bard nodded.

“It’s called ‘Lord of the Sky’. People tend to confuse the purpose of the song with Lozenreald, Goddess of the Skies. No matter how often I explain that Lozenreald is a female Goddess, no one seems to learn,” Sifarus mused.

Sara chuckled at his comment, and hugged her harp to her chest again. Lucas sensed a small amount of disappointment in the bard; he was hoping to have gotten more of a reaction out of his simple complaint. With the equivalent of a mental shrug, Sifarus moved on.

“So, I understand that you’re the Pactio of Liez’rial?” he asked.

Lucas opened his mouth to answer, but Damian cut him off. “We’ve gone over this before; you should introduce yourself first.”

Sifarus bowed his head and tapped his hand against his forehead in apology. To Damian, he said, “Ah, but the young Master here and I have already met. He may still yet remember my name, as I properly introduced myself in the library. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten his name – was it Louis?”
Lucas shook his head, feeling the drag of the wings on the Heaven’s Headpiece. “Lucas. And, yes, obviously, I’m Liez’rial’s Pactio. What can I do for you, Sifarus?”

The bard grinned. He gestured at the ground on the opposite side of the handrail; the book Lucas had been reading had fallen off the stonework and dropped to the earth.

“I think you may have an idea what my motives are. Although, maybe, I should give you a slightly crucial hint, to help you figure me out.

“I am Sifarus Idikus, Pactio to Sithenth the Trickster, and traveling bard. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, bowing his head slightly to Lucas and finally drawing his right arm from the pocket of his coat. He twirled his gauntleted hand about with a slight flourish as he tilted forward in a bow. Sara let out a small coo of appreciation at the polished shine coming off the spiky arm-guard.

Damian and Keroth sized the golden gauntlet up quickly. Judging by how fluidly he was able to wave it around, it probably wasn’t solid gold, just gold-plated. Perhaps just made out of a similarly shiny metal; either way, it wasn’t the soft, malleable precious metal. If it was built properly, it could probably be expected to absorb shocks throughout the entire forearm instead of just the wrist; he could probably punch into Damian’s armor without breaking any bones. Whether he’d actually puncture it or even want to was another matter entirely. The gauntlet could be expected to survive punishment, at the least; it was obvious just looking at it that it was well built and whoever put it together knew exactly what they were doing.

Lucas blinked at the gauntlet, then turned his attention back to Sifarus himself.

“There’s a small problem with joining me right now; I was just about to tell them. You’re about five minutes too early for them to completely understand why you’re here.”

Rather than say anything, Sifarus just froze his charming smile on his face, and nodded once. He knelt down and reached through the spacious scrollwork under the handrails and gathered up the fallen book. Standing upright, he turned and presented the book to Damian and Acied. The title of the book read History and Relationships between Maging Guilds.

“If you’ll allow me, Lucas. Sithenth and Liez’rial are Outer Gods; this is common knowledge. They aren’t restrained by the common conventions that prevent Inner Gods from directly influencing day-to-day proceedings of the people; if an Inner God diverts their attention away from protecting their niche of the environment from the rampant effects of magic, things can rapidly spiral out of control. As such, they use the Outer Gods as their arbiters, who in turn use their Pactio’s to spread their influence even further. Louis here –” “Lucas.” “– Lucas here, as well as myself, are said Pactios of Outer Gods. We have been charged by our respective Gods to identify the source of corruption behind the Maging Guilds’ and their leaders – specifically, whoever is in charge of the Order of Seers. Whoever is in charge now is hiding his identity from the Gods and making changes to the Guilds that would be rather adverse for Kaetir.”

Behind Sifarus, Lucas’ eyes bugged out in shock as the other man blurted out something that he would’ve rather had been subtler about. He had no idea what his companions’ opinions of the Maging Guilds were, and he didn’t want to risk offending them. At least, now, he was already in his armor and outside in case he had to get away from their potentially angry responses.

The Paladins are not directly affiliated with the Guilds, Lucas. There is the risk that they may be corrupted as well, but more likely, they’re neutral. Acied and Sara don’t pose enough of a threat to worry you.


Sure enough, Sara was still observing the situation with a bemused smirk on her face, and Acied still had his blank expression. Keroth broke the momentary pause in conversation.

“I didn’t think there was such a thing as real-life exposition.”

Sifarus snorted. “It’s my job, I’m a storyteller. Details are just what I do,” he sighed.

Acied started to look about as apprehensive as Lucas felt. The armor-clad youth noticed that the Magus was watching the Paladins as well; he was completely ignoring Sifarus and Lucas.

Damian nodded. “Go on. Is there anything else we should know about you two?”

Lucas shook his head. Sifarus tilted his head towards Sara. “I can play her harp. I’m also an excellent cook.”

Keroth began to flip one of his daggers about in his hand, rolling it across his opposite hand, flicking it up and down, catching the tip and the handle alternatively. “I think what he means is, is there anything else about the Maging Guilds we should be worried about? Are they in pursuit of either of you, are there any others that are going to be doing the same, how much support are the Gods willing to give you, and do you want our help?”

Lucas gestured halfway towards Keroth as he finished with his last generalization. “Yeah, that one. Liez’rial has instructed me to put together a group of people who can hope to –”

Suddenly, Lucas clamped his mouth shut. He was slightly confused until he felt the feathery sensation of possession by Liez’rial; the God had seized his vocal chords.

“Liez’rial speaking now. Damian, Keroth, are you willing to aid us? I will need your answer now.”

Keroth looked to Damian for direction. Damian locked eyes with Lucas, and by extension, Liez’rial. “The second any innocents get dragged into this conflict is the instant you lose our support. We are Paladins, protectors of the people. We are not bloodthirsty killers.”

Lucas shook his head to clear it; Liez’rial had given him full control of his body back. “Lucas in charge again. I don’t think I’m going to want a bloodthirsty killer working with me, anyways. I’d personally rather avoid fighting until absolutely necessary; from what I understand, any Magus we end up fighting with will probably be uninformed, following orders they didn’t come up with on their own.”

Acied coughed lightly into his fist. “It’s a type of brainwashing. The trainee mages are convinced they owe a massive debt of gratitude to the Guilds for discovering and honing their talents. I’m not sure how, but the scouts for the Guilds are finding massive amounts of talented Magus - more than ever recorded in the past. If not for my parents, and Sara, I’d probably still be at a Guild, believing I would’ve never discovered how to use my magic if not for them.”

Sara’s bemused stare had slipped into neutrality. Her eyes were unfocused as she spoke. “Acied’s parents are both Alteration Magus as well – because all three of them are Magus, they have bloodline telepathy. I’m a bit of a telepath as well, and we all felt Acied get twisted and turned into someone else. Before it got too far, we slipped out of the dormitories one night and have been traveling. We were originally in one of the Guilds on the Yira continent, in gauge… gauging…” she trailed off, stumbling over the words.

“Gejun Fir,” Acied offered up.

“Yeah, Gejun Fir. I can’t pronounce those stupid complicated names. I wanna slap whoever thought them up.”

Sifarus chuckled at her harmless threat. “Those ‘stupid complicated’ names are actually ancient Inner Gods’ names. That’s why you have what seems like a self-explanatory name, like ‘Ironwood’, or ‘Dustfall’ for simple townships and settlements, and confusing names like ‘Rispaire’ and ‘Gejun Fir’ for large cities and continents. I do believe the Galalid Islands are the only landmass that managed to escape the naming conventions.”

Lucas gave a miniscule nod. He had read about this, but long since forgotten it; there was very little demand for such eccentric knowledge.

Damian, however, had ignored the almanac fact and seemed preoccupied with the notion of the brainwashed students.

“Well, now that makes it easier to understand why Heighler was so short-tempered. Maybe he’s in on it…”

Sifarus looked over his shoulder at the elder Paladin. “You know Heighler, huh? I have good news – his personal apprentice isn’t in on the corruption and has offered to help us monitor him, and try to gain his trust. She could be a very handy inside source of information.”

Keroth perked up. “That also puts her into a lot of danger. Are you willing to be responsible for anything that may happen to her?”

Sifarus nodded. “She knows how dangerous it could be, and I’m confident she can quickly and easily get away if she needed to. She’s a very talented Magus, who can tap into all three primary schools of magic. She’s also nearly as clever as I am, so I’m certain she’ll be safe.”

Lucas was a bit surprised at how easily everything was progressing with the arrival of this bard. He had been apprehensive about bringing up the Guilds to Damian and Keroth in particular; they had said they were guardians to one of the Maging Guilds, but apparently they only took that as an assignment, not an affiliation – he supposed they were more concerned with the people in general than the Guilds. If Acied was right, and the Guilds were brainwashing their students, it was easy to understand how the Paladins would be offended by this injustice. Acied and Sara already being aware of the situation in the Guilds was a pleasant surprise; Lucas hadn’t predicted running into anyone that was already aware of the problem.

After a moment’s consideration, he frowned at himself. I shouldn’t assume that just because it took a God to tell me what’s going on, no one else could know. I live out in the middle of nowhere, the nearest Maging Guild a half a week’s ride away. Aside from the monks here and the other farms, there’s hardly anyone out here, and travelers rarely offer gossip up when passing through.

Liez’rial praised him. Very astute observation. I didn’t expect the two to already be on the run from the Guilds, but I didn’t rule out that there would be others who know. I did not, however, count on running into some so soon.

Sifarus was saying something when Lucas turned his attention outward again.

“…not sure about others. I’m fairly certain Sithenth has his other Pactio’s gathering intel, but I doubt any of them are as qualified as I am. Other than that, I’d wager there are a few other Outer Gods who are doing their own work or having their Pactios on the move.”

Acied raised his hand slightly, beckoning Sifarus’ attention. “What makes you say you’re more qualified amongst Sithenth’s Pactios?”

Sifarus folded his gauntleted hand across his waist and bowed graciously. “I’m the only one who made a Pact on my conditions, not Sithenth’s. I tricked the Trickster.”

Keroth let out a low whistle.

“Impressive,” Damian agreed.

“But wait, there’s more,” Sifarus said, straightening out and grinning again. “I’m a very good storyteller; none of my stories are based on speculation. I get unbiased facts and details to back them up, because I’m a very convincing interrogator. Observe!”

He straightened his fingers out, and three chains that were previously dangling slack from his fingers pulled taut across his palm and tugged a medallion out of a recessed groove in his gauntlet. Holding it up for the Paladins to observe, he set it swinging.

“This makes for an excellent hypnotizing aid, and my magic can put someone at ease and calm them down, or put them into a trance-like stupor if I focus it on one person at a time.”

Damian nodded as Sifarus aimed his forearm skyward, letting gravity pull the medallion back to its magnetized slot. “What’s your condition, if you don’t mind us asking?”

Sifarus raised his opposite hand as he lowered his gauntlet, and splayed his fingers out, gesturing
for dramatic effect. “I have to have contact with their mind. Luckily, I’m a bit of a telepath myself, and if someone tries to barge into my mind, I can shut them down with feedback.”

Acied nodded. “That’ pretty useful. Damian, Keroth, Lucas, how do you feel about bringing him along?”

Sifarus’ grin seemed to broaden slightly as Acied finally called out for a definite answer. He noted, however, that the Magus had excluded the girl. He mentally reached out and brushed against her mind, testing for a response. He got one.

Yes? she asked.

Oh, good, you are a telepath. I know you said so, but there are always varying degrees.

Sara affected a mental shrug and muttered a lazy Uh-huh. And…?

Sifarus snickered out loud, too soft for anyone to actually hear.

Well. I was just curious as to what your name is, and why Acied here didn’t ask for your opinion.

Sara snickered this time; Acied said my name earlier, silly. And, he already knows that I’d vote to bring you along. It’s not often I can get someone to sing along with me when I play my music.

Sifarus checked back in with reality for a moment. Their exchange had barely taken two seconds; thoughts could convey back and forth much faster than spoken words.

Damian and Keroth had paused after Lucas had agreed to bring Sifarus along; after all, he’d said, Liez’rial and Sithenth were already working together, their Pactios might as well, too.

Still didn’t tell me your name.

Pay attention next time.


Keroth gestured to Damian. “You know I’m just going to go along with whatever you say, so, go ahead and decide already.”

“Right, then. Looks like you’ve got one more person to carry along, Acied. Are you up to it?”

Acied nodded easily. “Of course.
“It’s not the first time I’ve been a beast of burden, and I’m positive it won’t be the last.”




End of Act I. Act II begins on page 104, with Chapter 9.
Title: Re: Kaetir: Icarian Armor
Post by: Kasu on December 16, 2010, 11:45:00 PM
Bards.  Why did it have to be bards.

Also, I forgot to mention that I found Sara extremely amusing a few updates back.