Divining the Past - a key to the Future? [Sam 27 MT]

[Elvin Motricé]

Samheen 27, Early Morningtide

"Almost time..." The Adhiel studied the room he had claimed for his personal research, his eyes scanning the symbols he had painted over every surface. He smiled slightly as he surveyed the energies that were bound into the patterns he had laid. It hadn't been easy... Many gruelling hours of his nights and days had been spent crafting the structure that covered the entire room in the glow of the Aether.

With is mind he searched the magical entrapment for flaws. "Such a complicated spell and it has nothing to do with the actual research," the Adhiel thought. With the books he had borrowed from the University libraries and with his own experience he had tried to formulate a protective ward that would contain the spell he was about to weave and that would also protect him. Now that it was finished and the other preparations were complete he could begin with the weaving of the actual magic.

The mage surveyed his surroundings and sighed. The University had made him a Mentor... It had been Arden who had commented at that time that his grasp of magics was beyond that of a student. Yet he himself had always felt less then the other members of the staff. He severely lacked in academical knowledge and, worst of all, he didn't feel like his magical abilities had increased while being within the University. It didn't feel right to him to tutor students without increasing his own capabilities more. It was an obligation he had to them, to himself and... to his deceased wife.

"Allyssandra, how I wish you could have been here..." sad smile played around the Mentor's lips and a single tear trickled unnoticed down his cheek. It had been by her who had truly sparked his interest in magic. "This shall be a tribute to you, love, my first try at something beyond the scope of basic sorcery," Elvin whispered.

He carefully stepped over the wards into the center of the room. If there would have been anyone to see the Adhiel they would have been surprised. His hair was usually tied in a tail and he preferred practical clothing. They could probably not unify that image with the mage that stood amidst the magical symbols. The practical clothing had been replaced by a black robe that swished over the floor, held together by a belt in black leather, his silver hair cascading down over the black fabric.

The Adhiel inhaled and exhaled deeply for a few time and closed his eyes, sinking back within himself spiraling down into blackness. He stood like that for a several flickers, floating in peace within the place he had created when he first learned meditation. He looked at the landscape for a moment and smiled when he saw the Unicorn, with an effort of will he transported himself to the mystical creature. "A beautiful day... It is almost time..." the Unicorn said nothing, it rarely did being merely an extension of the Adhiel's unconscious will it responded only in those times when important dreams were formed within his trance. The Adhiel knew all this yet he took comfort in the creature's presence and in its beauty. "Very well then... We can't linger all day, now can we?"

He opened his eyes, his meditation-mind fading away and looked into the world of energy. Intricate multi-colored cords flowed all round him, in patterns that were often difficult to comprehend. "Eylan!" the mage commanded, as his slender fingers plucked and rearranged the energies within the magical barrier around him. A slight breeze played with the Adhiel's hair as he sealed the door and created a shield around the room that would silence it to the outward world. He looked at the symbols painted in concentric patterns around him. If everything went well, they should light up. A protective barrier, one that would make it easier to do what he so desired. It would keep all physical and aetherical interference outside while he would work on his weaving...

His eyes focussed on the book he had brought from Pan's Temple and started his weaving around the binding that he had laid around the book. "Let us see what you hide..."

Although he had laid the wards to study the complex weavings that were used to creat portals they served this purpose as well. He drew more energy towards him. It was his intention to divine the past of the book. The impressions its creator had left on the book and it's used. Energies whirled around the Mentor as he wrapped himself in more wardings. He wasn't about to take a chance with this book...

OOC: the creation of the wardings is a part of what happened in the timejumps, as discussed with Taleweaver when he was still modding the UoM Elvin would use a considerable amount of time to study Portals... If this isn't ok... Then let me know

[Tristam]

Elvin's wards crackled into life around him. First a shield of air and earth spread across the walls to prevent any vibration from passing. No footsteps in the hall would distract him. No cries for help from within would be heard.

The second set of wards flared into life. They too were wards of isolation grounding Elvin and his works to the here and now. The room dimmed as they let in only enough light for Elvin to see comfortably and enough air to ensure his continued existence. No other energies would interfere unless Elvin deliberately called it forth from beyond the barrier.

Then came Elvin's protective wards. Ever did mages seek to protect themselves from the unknown by adding layers and layers of wards against the known and hoping that it will suffice. So it was with Elvin and his protections as layer upon layer of wards against individual energies combined into what he hoped was a ward of pure Aether to ward off the Nether. Thus prepared, Elvin began to invoke his spell.

Almost immediately, Elvin could tell something was wrong. The past was loathe to give up its secrets. Scrying even the recent past was an arduous process, a painstaking labor where each second of knowledge was fought for hard. Not so with the Book. It wanted Elvin to see its past and the yahren flew by effortlessly.

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There was an artistry to lashing someone. Any thug could simply grab a whip and strike a man on the back repeatedly. A true artist took his time. The whip lashed out once and cut into the prisoner's back. First there was searing pain and then the slow lingering burn. The victim must be given time to savor that burn else each stroke merely blurs into the other. It is not the same at all.

The weilders of these whips were the grand artists of their craft. They did not even cut the skin. It simply raised a painful welt, a thin strip of agony that slowly grew across the man's back one whip breadth at a time. When their task was done all that remained was five quick slices of a sharp knife and the square of human skin saturated with agony was ready to begin its journey to becoming a page of the book.

If the whipmaster were truly on form, the skin of the back would heal without blemish and the process would begin again. If not, there was always a demand by the inkmakers for more blood.

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This scene played out before Elvin's eyes for each and every of the book's pages. Men, women, and children were all dragged screaming before the whips. The lucky ones died of their wounds or a sharp cut of the knife across the throat. The unforunate faced the whips again and again betrayed by their own endurance and ability to heal to feed the seemingly endless need for parchment fit to contain the words written in blood.

[Elvin Motricé]

When the mage felt that there was something wrong it was too late as he was sucked into the past of the book. The past rolled out before the Adhiel's eyes and he started to scream. "Dear gods! No!" Unable to avert his eyes Elvin watched in terror as the images flowed by. "No! No! NO! NOOOOOOOO!!!"

But none would hear, the room was sealed and he would have to face the cruel mental assault alone. With all his capabilities he created an aura of calmness around himself, every technique he knew he utilized, his entire will bent upon standing up against the horrors that the book showed him. Slowly... painstakingly slowly the Mentor fought back, fortifying his mental barricades and building a wall of calmness around himself.

When it was over he found himself kneeling on the floor, beads of sweat mingling with tears and running over his face. "Absolute evil..." the sorcerer whispered with a voice that was hoarse from shouting and throwing up.

Still trembling he stood up, wiped his mouth, and walked towards the book, looking at it as if he saw it for the first time. "Human skin... Human blood... Human suffering... Dear gods..." He reinforced his mental shields and put his trembling hands on the white leather.

His fingers twitched and he could barely suppres the urge to gag as he quickly released it. With an effort of will, Elvin opened the book, and started to read... "Words of blood... Luckily I left a note for Peckerton what to do when I don't show up at dinner tonight..."

[Tristam]

The book opened smoothly without the usual crack of a dried leather. There was no table of contents, no title page or maker's seal on the cover. The words simply started mid sentence written in a shaky near illegible scrawl. The language was ancient human, mostly. From time to time, it lapsed into a jagged runic script. Those words were gouged into the page and the blood within them was the bright red of a new wound compared to the rusted scabs around them.

This first page seemed to be gibberish or perhaps some obscure form of poetry that Elvin could not understand. However one phrase was repeated several times, a declaration of existence and a name.

I, Khar-Naahrn!

[Elvin Motricé]

The Mentor slowly worked through the page, rereading it several times to make sure he had gotten all he could from it. With a frown and an exasparated sigh he looked at the only words that did actually make sense...

"I, Khar-Naahrn... Hmm... I wonder... Was the writer crazy?" the Adhiel looked at the book and went over the things he knew about it. "Could it posses a form of consciousness? It has something that no ordinary book should have..."

With another sigh the mage strengthened the wards that surrounded him and turned the page.

OOC: if you want, we can make a timejump ... If you want this played out, fine by me as well

[Tristam]

Much of the tome was the same blood scrawled insanity as the first several pages. If there was a message to be found within those pages, he could not find it. A part of him could see the beginning steps of a path of madness. it offered much at the end of the journey: knoweldge, power, an understanding of the universe that all his preconceived notions of sanity kept him blind to. Those promises buzzed around Elvin's head like a swarm of gnats as he read.

Sections of the book were closed to him. No amount of persuasion would cause those pages to part from each other. One section however opened easily to him. Each page was graced with pictures of strange beasts each seemng more vile than the last. It was a bestiary of the damned.

[Elvin Motricé]

The Adhiel didn't miss the hints of valuable knowledge that might be hidden somewhere behind the barrier of reason. But he had always believed that a mortal mind was bound to operate within certain bounds and crossing those boundaries would prove most perilous.

He sighed in frustration every time he came across as section that he could not open, eventually given up openen those parts, leaving their investigation for another time.

The bestiary caught his eyes, and his mind. The sorcerer had started upon the path of demonology and this book might provide some valueable information, especially about the creatures that roamed the Citadel these days. Taking parchment and a scroll, Elvin started to read and absorb everything he could from the book.[/i]

[Tristam]

The Bestiary was a treasure trove for those seeking to summon forces of the Nether. Fortunately for Elvin, they were a very practical and paranoid lot so along side descriptions of powers and enticements to summon were lists of there weaknesses and the best way to dispose of them once they had served their purpose.

Most of the beings were unfamiliar to Elvin until he came to the section on The Changer. If it had a true name the book did not know it, and the title given clearly showed the favorable light the book tried to portray him. It warned that any descritpion of The Changer would be useless as it was a formless being, a amorphous blob in its true form. However, no form was beyond its abilities. If it could be thought of, it could be become it and in fact a favorite tactic was to pull a deepest fear from the mind of its foes and bring it to life before them. Parts of itself could be deposited in the bodies of living beings granting it the dual purposes of a Nether powered guard or spy and a tortured soul from which to draw strength.

Nether beings could feed off of any negative emotion but The Changer thrived most on that of Corruption. As such, purity and stasis were its greatest weaknesses though if it managed to corrupt such powers they became potent source of power to draw on. The Changer can be harmed by spell and magicked blade but to destroy it utterly the seven changing hearts within the creature must be cut free and purified. However, these seven weak spots look exactly like the rest of the being to the naked eye. Even by Aetheric sight, seeking out the seeds of midnight amongst the shadow is near impossible. To a mindcrafter or a priest with the skill of seeking evil, the foci of dark emotions within would shine forth like a beacon.

[Elvin Motricé]

OOC: My apologies for overlooking this thread!

IC:

The Adhiel read on, trying to absorb as much knowledge as he could. For what the book offered, he could ultimately use in his own fights. When he finally got to the pages concerning the Changer he had already read many disturbing things. "Truly dangerous, the parts that have knowledge that can be used should be copied and this book needs to be destroyed. I'll need to get expert help for this..."

His eyes looked at the name of the next daemon in a row. Somehow it caught his attention more then all others he had read about. Maybe it was something in the handwriting, a tremble that wasn't there before, or maybe it was something in his own mind that associated certain emotions with the name.

As Elvin read he felt a cold chill creep over his spine. "If this creature is ever unleashed upon the world... Dear gods, please let this one stay in the Nether!"

He closed the book and looked at it for a few burns. "It is best if you remain in my care for a while longer," the Mentor mumbled as he traced an intricate pattern slightly above the cover of the book.

A wove a complex ward over the book and tied it to the other wards in the room. If three or more wards within his study would fail then the entire room would go up in flames. For the off chance that anyone could enter and tried to disable the ward: he'ld have to weave everything in the exact same order as the Adhiel sorcerer or the ward would be triggered. Granted, most experienced mages could unravel it but it would take them time...

"For now, you shall remain here... Too dangerous..." Elvin said to the book as he used the keystone he had made to walk through the wards...

[Tristam]

The wards hung strong and sure in the room. The tangled web would not be easily unwoven. Protected by his keystone, Elvin exited his rooms without incident.

The book sat content in the web of energies that Elvin had constructed. It had tasted his pain and his horror in the views of the path and the rich meal would take a while to digest. When next he would return, the Liber would be waiting.

Fin! Knowledge is power my dear Elvin, but be warned that you can't believe everything you read.

[Tristam]

Thread skilled.