That night, the Thinker visited Barrett for the second time.
"Hello son," said the bald man. His face was kind, as ever, but worries had etched their lines in it.
"You have already fought your first battle, even though you weren't even prepared for this task. It was my mistake, and I shall avoid losing one of my followers again.
Therefore, I have sent somebody to the Isle to show you your gift. It will be presented to you as a choice. Choose well, for this choice will determine to a large extent your place in the pattern.
Now I must go again. It will be long before I visit you again. Even our realms are no longer safe these tides. But know that we are connected."
This dream was followed by a rather embarrassing one featuring several girls Barrett had known in his youth. A youth that wasn't far behind him in time, but ever so far in experience. One could only hope the gods couldn't see these images as amusing stage plays...
The morning came soon. Considering the soreness of his body and the swollenness of his lips and cheeks, one could only conclude that either the bath hadn't helped much or that he would not have woken up today if he hadn't taken it.
It wasn't pain that drove his dreams away. It was the combination of smell and noise. Upon slowly opening his eyes, the image of a very strange man forced itself to his mind. The Tutor was wearing nothing but a limited form of what once must had been underwear. His body was old and decayed, and he had apparently just taken a bath of some sort, which was a rather surprising thing for him to do. He was drying his wild hair -on most parts of his body- with a fine piece of grey fabric.
"Finally getting up 'ey? You must think I have all time in the world. Then again, perhaps I do."
Aurelian Tutor - Barrett
Moderator: Mods
The Thinker's words in the dream disturbed Barrett.
What did he mean, a gift? A choice? My place in the pattern?
And the last part implied that Aurelius himself might be in danger.
The girls he dismissed as inconsequential: a perfectly natural dream. Nothing to be ashamed of.
It was from this confusing jumble of thoughts that Barrett awoke to the presence of his odd tutor.
"Define 'all the time in the world' - no never mind. I doubt I could grasp such a definition in my current state, and I am certain your response would be worth analyzing."
The young Dortman closed his eyes for a few flickers and made an internal evaluation of his body's condition. he then rose and did some careful stretches and breathing exercises to awaken both body and mind.
"Good morning, Tutor. Will you teach me that trick you have of disappearing today?"
The grey fabric set Barrett thinking of his clothes - and of Asran's package, which he had yet to open.
What did he mean, a gift? A choice? My place in the pattern?
And the last part implied that Aurelius himself might be in danger.
The girls he dismissed as inconsequential: a perfectly natural dream. Nothing to be ashamed of.
It was from this confusing jumble of thoughts that Barrett awoke to the presence of his odd tutor.
"Define 'all the time in the world' - no never mind. I doubt I could grasp such a definition in my current state, and I am certain your response would be worth analyzing."
The young Dortman closed his eyes for a few flickers and made an internal evaluation of his body's condition. he then rose and did some careful stretches and breathing exercises to awaken both body and mind.
"Good morning, Tutor. Will you teach me that trick you have of disappearing today?"
The grey fabric set Barrett thinking of his clothes - and of Asran's package, which he had yet to open.
"I might learn you a trick today, yes. Not necessarily that one, though."
The man started humming a bit in a language Barrett didn't know. It sounded old though, older than Adhiel even. In the mean while, he pulled his bag over his head again.
At this point, Barrett noticed the package wasn't where it had been. The fine silk paper was torn, nonchalantly draped on one of Barrett's shoes. The cloak wasn't in there anymore. The grey fabric, on the other hand, did have a hood.
"You see the thing is, most orders have their own color, or a few colors. Lumi likes purple and white, the Red Rider likes red -surprisingly-. Now our daddy, he's a special type. He has red of the flames that burn the veils of knowledge, but also the ice of blue that stands for protecting, writing it down and nurturing it. It has light yellow for the future as well as dark greys that stand for the ancient past.
Unfortunately, it is hard for a priest to channel all kinds of energies. They would conflict if we'd use our methods. Mixing colors is the way of sorcerers and alike. We Aurelians often learn sorcery, which is exceptional for clergy, but it never is our main tool.
As an Aurelian, you'll have to choose. You cannot have it all, and follow the Rules. So you'd have to figure out what Talent you want on your side. You're given the advantage of choice. You want to be able to disappear? Destroy obstacles? Travel to far away places? Read thoughts? That's what you have to tell me, boy, and I'll teach you."
He ruffled hiw hand through his beard, to get rid of the last few drops of water. "So, shall we take a walk then?"
The man started humming a bit in a language Barrett didn't know. It sounded old though, older than Adhiel even. In the mean while, he pulled his bag over his head again.
At this point, Barrett noticed the package wasn't where it had been. The fine silk paper was torn, nonchalantly draped on one of Barrett's shoes. The cloak wasn't in there anymore. The grey fabric, on the other hand, did have a hood.
"You see the thing is, most orders have their own color, or a few colors. Lumi likes purple and white, the Red Rider likes red -surprisingly-. Now our daddy, he's a special type. He has red of the flames that burn the veils of knowledge, but also the ice of blue that stands for protecting, writing it down and nurturing it. It has light yellow for the future as well as dark greys that stand for the ancient past.
Unfortunately, it is hard for a priest to channel all kinds of energies. They would conflict if we'd use our methods. Mixing colors is the way of sorcerers and alike. We Aurelians often learn sorcery, which is exceptional for clergy, but it never is our main tool.
As an Aurelian, you'll have to choose. You cannot have it all, and follow the Rules. So you'd have to figure out what Talent you want on your side. You're given the advantage of choice. You want to be able to disappear? Destroy obstacles? Travel to far away places? Read thoughts? That's what you have to tell me, boy, and I'll teach you."
He ruffled hiw hand through his beard, to get rid of the last few drops of water. "So, shall we take a walk then?"
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Still waking himself to full alertness, Barrett decided not to worry about the cloak. The Tutor had found a use for it that surely would not harm the thing. And Asran was not around to be upset.
Already the Tutor was delving into areas that the priest needed to pay swift attention to: these "colors" for instance. Some were rather clear in meaning : the elemental energies or the red of aggressive arts. But other were more difficult to interpret: light yellow for the future? dark grey for the ancient past? What did these really relate to?
He pulled on some clothing and his ragged shoes - thankful that he would have some more functional ones soon.
"Well, I don't really fancy the power to destroy anything: what if I should do so accidentally? It's rather irreversible."
Part of Barrett was shocked at the ease with which he seemed to accept the potential that he might be able to wield any sort of magical power, but it was overruled by his more practical nature.
"I must make a choice. Now? Can you tell me more of this blue or yellow or gray? Or perhaps show me what they feel like?"
Dressed, and now quite alert, Barrett stood ready to follow his Tutor for a "walk".
Already the Tutor was delving into areas that the priest needed to pay swift attention to: these "colors" for instance. Some were rather clear in meaning : the elemental energies or the red of aggressive arts. But other were more difficult to interpret: light yellow for the future? dark grey for the ancient past? What did these really relate to?
He pulled on some clothing and his ragged shoes - thankful that he would have some more functional ones soon.
"Well, I don't really fancy the power to destroy anything: what if I should do so accidentally? It's rather irreversible."
Part of Barrett was shocked at the ease with which he seemed to accept the potential that he might be able to wield any sort of magical power, but it was overruled by his more practical nature.
"I must make a choice. Now? Can you tell me more of this blue or yellow or gray? Or perhaps show me what they feel like?"
Dressed, and now quite alert, Barrett stood ready to follow his Tutor for a "walk".
"Follow me; act natural." The tutor ignored Barrett's questions. He led Barrett out of the dorms, straight to the nearby temple of Lumi. The ritual guard didn't react on their passing by, nor did the old man greet her.
They went straight to the central library of Lumi, which was heavily guarded by armed paladins. Again, these men didn't show any sign of recognition, kindness or hostility. There was a lecture in progress, and the pair passed them without any of the pupils even fixing their eyes on them. The tutor went to a seemingly random shelve, picked out a book, and led them back outside.
"Good. One my two goals here why I came here is achieved. Oh, yes, it was a lesson too. If you assume enough that they can't see you, there's a good chance they won't. A shred of magic helps though. But you must be cautious with it, for some people are rather... sensitive to it."
The bearded man apparently knew his way around the Isle. He led Barrett through the wilderness, over several bridges that crossed the little streams everywhere. He didn't say much, until they arrived at a secluded little beach, enclosed in rocky formations. The man sat down, and slurped from an oyster he found under his bum when he wanted to sit down. He tossed the rather expensive and old-looking book in the sand.
"Thing is, I can't really help you with that choice. You have to think what you're good at, and either reinforce that talent or complement it. I can only teach you after you've chosen. It's essential." The man closed his eyes, said "we have time here", and then started meditating -or sleeping?-
They went straight to the central library of Lumi, which was heavily guarded by armed paladins. Again, these men didn't show any sign of recognition, kindness or hostility. There was a lecture in progress, and the pair passed them without any of the pupils even fixing their eyes on them. The tutor went to a seemingly random shelve, picked out a book, and led them back outside.
"Good. One my two goals here why I came here is achieved. Oh, yes, it was a lesson too. If you assume enough that they can't see you, there's a good chance they won't. A shred of magic helps though. But you must be cautious with it, for some people are rather... sensitive to it."
The bearded man apparently knew his way around the Isle. He led Barrett through the wilderness, over several bridges that crossed the little streams everywhere. He didn't say much, until they arrived at a secluded little beach, enclosed in rocky formations. The man sat down, and slurped from an oyster he found under his bum when he wanted to sit down. He tossed the rather expensive and old-looking book in the sand.
"Thing is, I can't really help you with that choice. You have to think what you're good at, and either reinforce that talent or complement it. I can only teach you after you've chosen. It's essential." The man closed his eyes, said "we have time here", and then started meditating -or sleeping?-
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Act natural? Act natural for him or natural for me? Ha!
Barrett let the jest die away and simply did as his Tutor did. He strolled along behind the little man as if such were his everyday routine.
Nope. Nothing unusual at all about walking right into the temple and ignoring the guards.
Barrett did not stop to listen to any of the lecture: if he paid attention to them, then they might pay attention to him. Or so he figured.
The Tutor's explanation of how they had passed unnoticed was not as thorough as Barrett would have liked, but he expected no more from the elusive creature. In fact, it would make for good analysis later: he'd figure it out rather than be spoon fed like a child.
Barrett scrambled to fetch the abandoned book.
Why borrow it if he only meant to mistreat it?
He left his concern unvoiced. The Tutor likely knew very well what he was doing and Barrett shouldn't jump too quickly to a conclusion.
What I'm good at? Asking questions. Solving problems. Or is that only a conceit of mine? Remembering things. Looking at a problem from many angles. Being in the right place at an opportune time. What has any of this to do with the different colors?
Barrett brushed the sand off the book, and then opened it to see what was important enough to bypass the temple security in order to obtain. Perhaps it was merely a random book and the purpose had been to teach him the lesson about how not to be noticed.
Barrett let the jest die away and simply did as his Tutor did. He strolled along behind the little man as if such were his everyday routine.
Nope. Nothing unusual at all about walking right into the temple and ignoring the guards.
Barrett did not stop to listen to any of the lecture: if he paid attention to them, then they might pay attention to him. Or so he figured.
The Tutor's explanation of how they had passed unnoticed was not as thorough as Barrett would have liked, but he expected no more from the elusive creature. In fact, it would make for good analysis later: he'd figure it out rather than be spoon fed like a child.
Barrett scrambled to fetch the abandoned book.
Why borrow it if he only meant to mistreat it?
He left his concern unvoiced. The Tutor likely knew very well what he was doing and Barrett shouldn't jump too quickly to a conclusion.
What I'm good at? Asking questions. Solving problems. Or is that only a conceit of mine? Remembering things. Looking at a problem from many angles. Being in the right place at an opportune time. What has any of this to do with the different colors?
Barrett brushed the sand off the book, and then opened it to see what was important enough to bypass the temple security in order to obtain. Perhaps it was merely a random book and the purpose had been to teach him the lesson about how not to be noticed.
During their trip through various well-guarded doors and hallways, the tutor looked back and grinned every now and then. It could have been the complacent smile of a man who is proud because he can do a spectacular card trick. It looked more, however, like the grin exchanged in an entente cordial between a teacher and a talented pupil who finally understands what everything was about.
Once they had arrived at the beach, the tutor didn't initially react when Barrett fetched the book. He kept his eyes closed, and let the sun in the zenith age his skin some more.
The man couldn't keep himself from intervening. He spoke in Barrett's head, as Asran had done before. We didn't borrow. They borrowed it from one of us a long time ago. The voice seemed rather agitated, something that was clearly unusual for this man who was so detached from normal reality most of the time.
Even to Barrett's unexperienced eye for books, the quality of this work was obvious. The pages were carefully gilded on their edges; the whole package was double-bound in a thick leather cover and back that were in good condition. The calligraphy was of such admirable quality, that every character -even though Barrett couldn't read or recognize any- could keep one's eyes locked for burns. Mellorius's stylish writing was random scribbling of a child compared to this.
Most of the pages were true works of art, and not just pages. The person who made them, didn't use five or ten or twenty inks. In fact, he or she had used mixtures like a painter would have. Despite the fact that the work looked ages old, these colors were lively and vivid.
Although the text wasn't comprehensible, some of the content of this book was deductable due to the dominance of pictorial material. Every pair of pages depicted a person, man or woman. They were all surrounded by a different combination of colors, mostly one of them playing a lead role. The scenes were without exception abstract, although it often seemed that a concrete image was hidden in them very near the limits of the grasp from Barrett's mind.
Although all pages were very different, they somehow seemed to share a certain format. Some of the people were running, some were dancing, some were reading, some were sleeping. All of them were alone. The book had as much as a thousand filled pages; at least as many were blank.
Once they had arrived at the beach, the tutor didn't initially react when Barrett fetched the book. He kept his eyes closed, and let the sun in the zenith age his skin some more.
The man couldn't keep himself from intervening. He spoke in Barrett's head, as Asran had done before. We didn't borrow. They borrowed it from one of us a long time ago. The voice seemed rather agitated, something that was clearly unusual for this man who was so detached from normal reality most of the time.
Even to Barrett's unexperienced eye for books, the quality of this work was obvious. The pages were carefully gilded on their edges; the whole package was double-bound in a thick leather cover and back that were in good condition. The calligraphy was of such admirable quality, that every character -even though Barrett couldn't read or recognize any- could keep one's eyes locked for burns. Mellorius's stylish writing was random scribbling of a child compared to this.
Most of the pages were true works of art, and not just pages. The person who made them, didn't use five or ten or twenty inks. In fact, he or she had used mixtures like a painter would have. Despite the fact that the work looked ages old, these colors were lively and vivid.
Although the text wasn't comprehensible, some of the content of this book was deductable due to the dominance of pictorial material. Every pair of pages depicted a person, man or woman. They were all surrounded by a different combination of colors, mostly one of them playing a lead role. The scenes were without exception abstract, although it often seemed that a concrete image was hidden in them very near the limits of the grasp from Barrett's mind.
Although all pages were very different, they somehow seemed to share a certain format. Some of the people were running, some were dancing, some were reading, some were sleeping. All of them were alone. The book had as much as a thousand filled pages; at least as many were blank.
Last edited by Finodborn on Sun Nov 28, 2004 1:28 am, edited 2 times in total.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
So it is important... to our order?
Barrett's whole attention was drawn into the book. It was as if the rest of the world shrank away for a time. The craft. The symbols. The skill of the artificer. Was it the work of one or of many? Such consistent skill pointed to just one. But surely the care in crafting so much would take up a lifetime. And there were blank pages yet to be filled...
What language? What characters are these? he asked the Tutor without speaking aloud.
The Dortman concentrated on trying to see the hidden pattern to the pages.
Perhaps it is my expectations that hinder me.
He then instead relaxed his concentration, merely looking at the pages without trying to read anything extra into them.
Who are these people?
He flicked over to the last few non-blank pages, a suspicion forming in his mind about the book's purpose.
Tentatively he tried to open himself up to perceive the world beneath, to slip into his other-sight.
Barrett's whole attention was drawn into the book. It was as if the rest of the world shrank away for a time. The craft. The symbols. The skill of the artificer. Was it the work of one or of many? Such consistent skill pointed to just one. But surely the care in crafting so much would take up a lifetime. And there were blank pages yet to be filled...
What language? What characters are these? he asked the Tutor without speaking aloud.
The Dortman concentrated on trying to see the hidden pattern to the pages.
Perhaps it is my expectations that hinder me.
He then instead relaxed his concentration, merely looking at the pages without trying to read anything extra into them.
Who are these people?
He flicked over to the last few non-blank pages, a suspicion forming in his mind about the book's purpose.
Tentatively he tried to open himself up to perceive the world beneath, to slip into his other-sight.
OOC: I have been looking for Barrett's second name, but didn't find it. I've used "of Dort" for now, but will edit when you give it to me again (I know he has one.)
IC: The teacher of Aurelius had by now dozed of, was too deep in trance, or otherwise plain unwilling to answer any of Barrett's questions.
Merely concentrating on the colorful pages diddered his mind; it almost appeared as if the scenes were moving, though it was quite obvious that they didn't.
He arrived at the last filled page when he opened up completely. His head hit the sand as he fell back. He trembled, almost like an epileptic, when the visions finally got across the borders of his perception. Although the book was on his lap now, the characters and images of the open page flashed before his eyes.
Asran Borun, 'the Strong', male, human; born Yahren 1129 AD, 45213 BY. Died Yahren 1224 AD, 45308 BY.
The characters that passed his eyes weren't read. They entered his mind as a whole, more like speaking to him than being read by him.
Fields of expertise: Mindcraft, Dancing, Demon and Darkness Lore, Druidism, Ley Lines, Acting. Excelled in Silver (reflection, illusion, deceive, mask.)
Antagonist: Hattark Öçal, not included to date.
Cartisan(s): Barrett Treespan, not included to date.
Deeds: Imbued one Book of Answers; tutored six disciples; participated in crafting the Ward of Veln; published forty-eight bands and two hundred and twenty three tractates of scientific value; wrote seventy-four poems; banished Veenash on one occasion (1158), Teroth on three occasions (1162, 1169, 2105), Narahdiel on one (1224); erased Veenash (1198); negotiated in second Kislovan war; destroyed Grand eye of Dort, played lead role in destruction of the Cult of Oracle's Isle; one of the greatest moral authorities within the Order during his life.
All of this was but information brought to him by text; in the background, the single magnificent illustration displayed each of these facts as if Barrett had been there to witness them himself. The emphasis was always on Asran's stamina, persistance, strength of will.
Then it was over. The tradetide sun was stinging in his eyes. The tutor had probably taken the book away, for it was no longer there. He was still resting.
IC: The teacher of Aurelius had by now dozed of, was too deep in trance, or otherwise plain unwilling to answer any of Barrett's questions.
Merely concentrating on the colorful pages diddered his mind; it almost appeared as if the scenes were moving, though it was quite obvious that they didn't.
He arrived at the last filled page when he opened up completely. His head hit the sand as he fell back. He trembled, almost like an epileptic, when the visions finally got across the borders of his perception. Although the book was on his lap now, the characters and images of the open page flashed before his eyes.
Asran Borun, 'the Strong', male, human; born Yahren 1129 AD, 45213 BY. Died Yahren 1224 AD, 45308 BY.
The characters that passed his eyes weren't read. They entered his mind as a whole, more like speaking to him than being read by him.
Fields of expertise: Mindcraft, Dancing, Demon and Darkness Lore, Druidism, Ley Lines, Acting. Excelled in Silver (reflection, illusion, deceive, mask.)
Antagonist: Hattark Öçal, not included to date.
Cartisan(s): Barrett Treespan, not included to date.
Deeds: Imbued one Book of Answers; tutored six disciples; participated in crafting the Ward of Veln; published forty-eight bands and two hundred and twenty three tractates of scientific value; wrote seventy-four poems; banished Veenash on one occasion (1158), Teroth on three occasions (1162, 1169, 2105), Narahdiel on one (1224); erased Veenash (1198); negotiated in second Kislovan war; destroyed Grand eye of Dort, played lead role in destruction of the Cult of Oracle's Isle; one of the greatest moral authorities within the Order during his life.
All of this was but information brought to him by text; in the background, the single magnificent illustration displayed each of these facts as if Barrett had been there to witness them himself. The emphasis was always on Asran's stamina, persistance, strength of will.
Then it was over. The tradetide sun was stinging in his eyes. The tutor had probably taken the book away, for it was no longer there. He was still resting.
Last edited by Finodborn on Thu Jan 06, 2005 9:05 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
The revelations and amount of information was almost too much for Barrett. Asran had been very much a mystery, but now much of his life was thrust into Barrett's mind as if he had witnessed it. Wonder mixed with joy. A touch of pride. But mostly just sheer absorption of information.
When it was over, the young priest took many burns to rouse himself from his contemplative state. The sun stung his eyes, and by its placement indicated that the transfer of information had not been instantaneous. Still, Barrett felt as if he had spent many more marks, even days, witnessing the tale of his mentor.
Finally his thoughts returned to his own circumstances.
A choice...
"Well, if I want to be able to seek out things that are hidden, in an inconspicuous manner, it would be well to have some magical help at hiding and disguising myself. Subtle magic so as not to set off alarms or draw unwanted attention. And some way of shielding my thoughts from the many mindreaders about - but perhaps that is another skill altogether? The silver grey of subtle craftings. The silver plating that calls attention to its surface while hiding what may be underneath. The flash of silver that draws the eye while I slip away unseen, or reflects what the viewer expects to see rather than reveal my presence or intentions. To hide myself and my thoughts and to move unhindered, unobserved."
"I would also like to learn the other magicks: sorcery, mindcraft, perhaps runescribing - in time."
When it was over, the young priest took many burns to rouse himself from his contemplative state. The sun stung his eyes, and by its placement indicated that the transfer of information had not been instantaneous. Still, Barrett felt as if he had spent many more marks, even days, witnessing the tale of his mentor.
Finally his thoughts returned to his own circumstances.
A choice...
"Well, if I want to be able to seek out things that are hidden, in an inconspicuous manner, it would be well to have some magical help at hiding and disguising myself. Subtle magic so as not to set off alarms or draw unwanted attention. And some way of shielding my thoughts from the many mindreaders about - but perhaps that is another skill altogether? The silver grey of subtle craftings. The silver plating that calls attention to its surface while hiding what may be underneath. The flash of silver that draws the eye while I slip away unseen, or reflects what the viewer expects to see rather than reveal my presence or intentions. To hide myself and my thoughts and to move unhindered, unobserved."
"I would also like to learn the other magicks: sorcery, mindcraft, perhaps runescribing - in time."
"With the other forms I cannot help you, young man" the tutor said while he opened his eyes and sat up straight, as if he'd never been down. "As such is not my assignment. As far as your choice goes... are you certain you are not merely following your Cartisanship?
It can be taught, though. But I just want you to be very sure of your decision. It is rather... irreversible."
It can be taught, though. But I just want you to be very sure of your decision. It is rather... irreversible."
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Barrett thought on it for a few burns. The "colors" or focal spheres of magickal energy were unfamiliar to him. He was fairly certain he would not do well with anything that "burned through veils" or removed obstacles. Ice blue sounded a bit too... stiff. If one could avoid detection and danger then one wouldn't need such protection. The yellow of the future was tempting: foreknowledge? Divination. But Barrett liked to solve his puzzles with logic and analysis rather than simply "knowing" the future or being given the answer. And divination had a tendency to be misinterpreted. The dark grey or black of hidden and ancient knowledge was tempting... perhaps too tempting. What price went along with wielding such dark magicks?
“Perhaps I am guided by my... Cartisanship,†the word came strangely to his lips, “But I feel it is the correct choice for me. The most comfortable fit.â€
“Perhaps I am guided by my... Cartisanship,†the word came strangely to his lips, “But I feel it is the correct choice for me. The most comfortable fit.â€
"Very well." The man's voice had a ceremonious, rather formal sound to it.
"If you want to see the process, you'll have to see past strictly material reality again. This is just ... in case." The man threw another piece of Bitter Root in Barrett's lap.
Then, he started making strange gestures, as if he was performing a very ill-coördinated terpsichore. His eyes were closed. Even without much effort, Barrett could see flashes of colorful energy dancing over the tutor's body.
Should he broaden his vision, the spectacle would make much more sense. There wasn't much silver at this open beach. But the old man apparently managed to pull the few little strands of it, and bound them to the young querist. Soon, Barrett's greyish aura was turning more brilliant, reflective, silver, bit by bit. The tutor himself, on the other hand, had a core that was very easy to see, whereas it had no color at all.
Somehow the old priest's actions had an influence on the surroundings, for more and more of these strands showed up. He chained them all to Barrett's essence, to the anchor of Aurelius that lay firmly inside him and that vested his body and soul.
The man was panting when it was all over. Both physical and mental effort had worn him out. "You will find it in you to use from now on, Barrett, even when the lands are dark and all hope is far away. Use not your gift against the will of your Patron, for he shall punish you. May it serve Aurelius, his Order and yourself."
"There." He sat down and started fingering his nose. "One would think it 'd get less tiring after a few times, eh. Oh yes, you can now try to mask yourself. It isn't such a difficult thing to do. Use energy from your core to cover your body. It's a rather intuitive thing. You'll be able to become "discrete" as we did this morning. In time you'll learn to cloak others as well, as I did to you this morning. Other possibilities include adopting the looks of somebody else, or something else, or sheer invisibility. You will find these tricks more complicated, though. In theory, you can create any illusion for any number of people. It will require lots of training, though. But I've noticed the spirit of our Lord runs strongly in you. You are favored, Barrett. "
"And I believe it's a wise choice. An eccentric one for an Aurelian, who should seek to destroy illusions. But often, a thief makes the best housemaster." He grinned. "So when are you leaving?"
"If you want to see the process, you'll have to see past strictly material reality again. This is just ... in case." The man threw another piece of Bitter Root in Barrett's lap.
Then, he started making strange gestures, as if he was performing a very ill-coördinated terpsichore. His eyes were closed. Even without much effort, Barrett could see flashes of colorful energy dancing over the tutor's body.
Should he broaden his vision, the spectacle would make much more sense. There wasn't much silver at this open beach. But the old man apparently managed to pull the few little strands of it, and bound them to the young querist. Soon, Barrett's greyish aura was turning more brilliant, reflective, silver, bit by bit. The tutor himself, on the other hand, had a core that was very easy to see, whereas it had no color at all.
Somehow the old priest's actions had an influence on the surroundings, for more and more of these strands showed up. He chained them all to Barrett's essence, to the anchor of Aurelius that lay firmly inside him and that vested his body and soul.
The man was panting when it was all over. Both physical and mental effort had worn him out. "You will find it in you to use from now on, Barrett, even when the lands are dark and all hope is far away. Use not your gift against the will of your Patron, for he shall punish you. May it serve Aurelius, his Order and yourself."
"There." He sat down and started fingering his nose. "One would think it 'd get less tiring after a few times, eh. Oh yes, you can now try to mask yourself. It isn't such a difficult thing to do. Use energy from your core to cover your body. It's a rather intuitive thing. You'll be able to become "discrete" as we did this morning. In time you'll learn to cloak others as well, as I did to you this morning. Other possibilities include adopting the looks of somebody else, or something else, or sheer invisibility. You will find these tricks more complicated, though. In theory, you can create any illusion for any number of people. It will require lots of training, though. But I've noticed the spirit of our Lord runs strongly in you. You are favored, Barrett. "
"And I believe it's a wise choice. An eccentric one for an Aurelian, who should seek to destroy illusions. But often, a thief makes the best housemaster." He grinned. "So when are you leaving?"
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
The tone of formality was odd coming from the Tutor. The change caused Barrett to assume a similar solemnity. He summoned the energy-sense, sinking into his center to look out at the gathering of energies and inward at the transformation being woven about him. Patterns of silver being summoned. The Tutor's movements, precise and tireless.
It did not seem Barrett's place to speak. There was no need to swear the oath for it was being woven into his essence along with the magickal energies granted by the Thinker.
At the Tutor's suggestion, Barrett attempted to mask - he tugged at a few strands of the energy spinning within his core. It was strange at first, the silver evaded any overt attempt to shape it.
Subtle.
He switched to a tactic of suggestion. The hint of a new pattern, one that reached out to weave around Barrett's physical presence. The young man lost himself for a moment in fascination, but the Tutor's words tugged him back to reality.
"Leaving? I- I hadn't thought about that. I'm not sure where to go."
It did not seem Barrett's place to speak. There was no need to swear the oath for it was being woven into his essence along with the magickal energies granted by the Thinker.
At the Tutor's suggestion, Barrett attempted to mask - he tugged at a few strands of the energy spinning within his core. It was strange at first, the silver evaded any overt attempt to shape it.
Subtle.
He switched to a tactic of suggestion. The hint of a new pattern, one that reached out to weave around Barrett's physical presence. The young man lost himself for a moment in fascination, but the Tutor's words tugged him back to reality.
"Leaving? I- I hadn't thought about that. I'm not sure where to go."
For an outsider, the effects of Barrett's effort would be a fascinating thing to see. The look of his face shifted a couple of times, assuming the form of men and women Barrett knew or had known, never staying a stable or very natural image for a long time, but hiding all Barrett-ness nevertheless.
"You're apparently talented too. I'm sure you'll get a prominent reference in the Book in due time."
"The time for your departure of this place is nearing. Much can be learnt here, but most of it you have seen. Go where your instinct leads you. Where you think you will find the missing pieces. There's only so many yahren to a life time you know. The querist never has time for loitering."
"You're apparently talented too. I'm sure you'll get a prominent reference in the Book in due time."
"The time for your departure of this place is nearing. Much can be learnt here, but most of it you have seen. Go where your instinct leads you. Where you think you will find the missing pieces. There's only so many yahren to a life time you know. The querist never has time for loitering."
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Barrett frowned. There was still so much he could learn on the Isle. So many other orders to consult. Other lessons to learn. And where else would he find such magnificent stores of knowledge?
Ah, silly Barrett. Knowledge is not the end but the means. Best start seeking it out while pursuing your purpose rather than soaking it in like a passive sponge. Where to go, indeed. Where might I learn more about what influences the fates of the people of the Empire and what darkness may even now be moving to wrest control...
"Yes. I see. learn and go, and learn as you go. This Isle is full of knowledge - so full that it might become a trap that keeps me from serving any purpose. I shall leave very soon then. But there are a few business transactions to complete. A few goodbyes to be said. Perhaps a book or two to consult.... but..."
A sudden thought struck him momentarily speechless.
"I have seen no ships. How am I to buy or book passage to my destination?"
Ah, silly Barrett. Knowledge is not the end but the means. Best start seeking it out while pursuing your purpose rather than soaking it in like a passive sponge. Where to go, indeed. Where might I learn more about what influences the fates of the people of the Empire and what darkness may even now be moving to wrest control...
"Yes. I see. learn and go, and learn as you go. This Isle is full of knowledge - so full that it might become a trap that keeps me from serving any purpose. I shall leave very soon then. But there are a few business transactions to complete. A few goodbyes to be said. Perhaps a book or two to consult.... but..."
A sudden thought struck him momentarily speechless.
"I have seen no ships. How am I to buy or book passage to my destination?"
OOC: Taken PC control with permission of PC.
IC: The tutor didn't budge, nor was he clear whether he would accompany Barrett back to the village or not. In the end, the young man took the man's snoring as a clear sign.
Surprisingly, the Aurelian priest found his way back to the village rather easily. He wasn't sure whether he took the same route back as they had taken on their way to the place, but he ended up where he wanted without any big detours.
It was as if something had stung him; he was in a hurry to leave this secluded Isle now, for no real rational reasons. A Greater Demon had not driven him away, but insight did.
He went to the seamstress first. Paying and receiving were sheer formalities. Barrett had to answer evading at the woman's questions about whether he had taken good care of the cloak. He thought he could read a sign of sadness or disappointment on her face when he left her store; he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty, although he wasn't to blame.
He continued his busy schedule by visiting the old Mellorius at the temple of Illuminatus. The man was genuinely sorry to see his new pupil go, more so after Barrett had shown him the residues of his Salaura training. He insisted on filling in Barrett's name on a letter of recommendation. The letter was premade, but not lacking in uniqueness. The only reason it was written on beforehand, was that the quality of the calligraphy was so exquisite, that it had probably taken a couple of tries and hours of work, even from a Master. Barrett realized he would have troubles ever letting go of it.
Nema insisted on getting a kiss goodbye on her pretty cheek, a demand to which the querist complied without complaining. She didn't want to say anything else, or have him say anything, so she shooed him off quickly.
Galliban could not be found. She probably was out on some mission. He had never had a very warm communication with her, but it felt strange nonetheless to leave this place without bidding her farewell.
Then came the visit to Onu
"I am sorry, but I have come to cancel my lesson. As well as all future lessons. I will leave the Isle today. I apologize for disrupting your schedule, and wanted to thank you again for the good lessons."
"Don't mention it", was all she had said. Barrett had given him one of his finest drawings; she had pushed a little pendant in his hand; it had the symbol of the Red's Shield.
Upon entering the dorms, the first person he encountered was the housemaster who started lecturing him about neglecting chores and as such. Barrett efficiently stopped the rant by kind, well-measured arguments.
He packed his things, which didn't take much time. At that point, he didn't really know how to proceed. So he went to the beach and just sat in the sand, to observe the infinite complexity of the waves. After all, he had no clear appointment with the tutor. He breathed the salty sea air, and meditated on the shores of the sacred Isle.
After a mark or so, he noticed that the Tutor was sitting beside him. "Are you ready then?" Barrett nodded slowly, stood up, and followed the man to a little rowing boat. The thought occurred that the rather mad character intended to row all the way to new shores, but he luckily led him to a big ship. "The crew will take you anywhere you want to go" he said while helping Barrett with the rope ladder. "Never think there isn't an order that cares for you, Barrett, for there is. We're just not very... visible. I'm sure you can appreciate that." After that, the man started rowing all the way to new shores.
And the ship sailed away, leading Barrett away from the place that had been his home only for a short while, to a new square on the board. There was no doubt that it had had a lasting influence on his mind, memory and soul.
OOC: You can make a final posts if you want. I would like you i any case to describe into detail the items of clothing you ordered, so that I can update your inventory properly. You can go to any forum you wish now; you should explain IC if you visit a location that doesn't have a direct sea border, of course.
IC: The tutor didn't budge, nor was he clear whether he would accompany Barrett back to the village or not. In the end, the young man took the man's snoring as a clear sign.
Surprisingly, the Aurelian priest found his way back to the village rather easily. He wasn't sure whether he took the same route back as they had taken on their way to the place, but he ended up where he wanted without any big detours.
It was as if something had stung him; he was in a hurry to leave this secluded Isle now, for no real rational reasons. A Greater Demon had not driven him away, but insight did.
He went to the seamstress first. Paying and receiving were sheer formalities. Barrett had to answer evading at the woman's questions about whether he had taken good care of the cloak. He thought he could read a sign of sadness or disappointment on her face when he left her store; he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty, although he wasn't to blame.
He continued his busy schedule by visiting the old Mellorius at the temple of Illuminatus. The man was genuinely sorry to see his new pupil go, more so after Barrett had shown him the residues of his Salaura training. He insisted on filling in Barrett's name on a letter of recommendation. The letter was premade, but not lacking in uniqueness. The only reason it was written on beforehand, was that the quality of the calligraphy was so exquisite, that it had probably taken a couple of tries and hours of work, even from a Master. Barrett realized he would have troubles ever letting go of it.
Nema insisted on getting a kiss goodbye on her pretty cheek, a demand to which the querist complied without complaining. She didn't want to say anything else, or have him say anything, so she shooed him off quickly.
Galliban could not be found. She probably was out on some mission. He had never had a very warm communication with her, but it felt strange nonetheless to leave this place without bidding her farewell.
Then came the visit to Onu
"I am sorry, but I have come to cancel my lesson. As well as all future lessons. I will leave the Isle today. I apologize for disrupting your schedule, and wanted to thank you again for the good lessons."
"Don't mention it", was all she had said. Barrett had given him one of his finest drawings; she had pushed a little pendant in his hand; it had the symbol of the Red's Shield.
Upon entering the dorms, the first person he encountered was the housemaster who started lecturing him about neglecting chores and as such. Barrett efficiently stopped the rant by kind, well-measured arguments.
He packed his things, which didn't take much time. At that point, he didn't really know how to proceed. So he went to the beach and just sat in the sand, to observe the infinite complexity of the waves. After all, he had no clear appointment with the tutor. He breathed the salty sea air, and meditated on the shores of the sacred Isle.
After a mark or so, he noticed that the Tutor was sitting beside him. "Are you ready then?" Barrett nodded slowly, stood up, and followed the man to a little rowing boat. The thought occurred that the rather mad character intended to row all the way to new shores, but he luckily led him to a big ship. "The crew will take you anywhere you want to go" he said while helping Barrett with the rope ladder. "Never think there isn't an order that cares for you, Barrett, for there is. We're just not very... visible. I'm sure you can appreciate that." After that, the man started rowing all the way to new shores.
And the ship sailed away, leading Barrett away from the place that had been his home only for a short while, to a new square on the board. There was no doubt that it had had a lasting influence on his mind, memory and soul.
OOC: You can make a final posts if you want. I would like you i any case to describe into detail the items of clothing you ordered, so that I can update your inventory properly. You can go to any forum you wish now; you should explain IC if you visit a location that doesn't have a direct sea border, of course.
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Skilled as follows:
Logical Analysis +*
Meditation +*
Manipulation of Energy: Faith (NS)
Conversation: +**
Knowledge [Order of Aurelius] (NS) + **
History, written [Order of Aurelius] (NS)
Philosophy: +**
Martial Arts (NS) +*
Knowledge [Play Kemn] (NS) +**
Counseling: +*
Painting (NS)
Calligraphy: +*
Pray: +*
Magic [Create Illusion/Mask] (NS)
Theology (NS)
Any comments can be directed to my pm box, as usual
Logical Analysis +*
Meditation +*
Manipulation of Energy: Faith (NS)
Conversation: +**
Knowledge [Order of Aurelius] (NS) + **
History, written [Order of Aurelius] (NS)
Philosophy: +**
Martial Arts (NS) +*
Knowledge [Play Kemn] (NS) +**
Counseling: +*
Painting (NS)
Calligraphy: +*
Pray: +*
Magic [Create Illusion/Mask] (NS)
Theology (NS)
Any comments can be directed to my pm box, as usual
Verum et factum convertuntur.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Avatar by the Artist Currently Known as Eira.
Barrett’s last marks on the isle were spent packing and saying goodbye to those few people that he had met. He did not have much to pack until he received his rather large bundle from the seamstress. It was enough to warrant the purchase of a small wooden chest. Answering the woman’s questions was not a priority. Besides which, he was uncertain of the answers to some of them. He tried to maintain a friendly, courteous tone - but really his thoughts were elsewhere.
Despite his reservations about the order of Illumiatus in general, there were important stops to be made at the temple. Barrett was just as sorry to be leaving Mellorius as the master was to lose a pupil. But he promised to try to carry on the older man’s excellent tradition.
Nema’s reaction to the news of her most frequent patient’s departure seemed odd to Barrett. Had he really made that much of an impression? The kiss seemed too quick and too little, but the priest agreed that more words would only make the situation more awkward.
Galliban’s absence was both unfortunate and something of a relief. Barrett doubted that the novice paladin would even care that he was leaving.
The exchange of gifts with Onu was touching, but it also had the feel of a business transaction - or perhaps a ceremony- of some kind.
*****
The Tutor’s parting words were almost unnecessary. An explanation of things that Barrett understood almost instinctively.
The decision of where to go seemed obvious. To continue learning arcane lore as well as getting a feel for politics and the threads that made up the pattern of the Empire’s fate: Citadel.
Despite his reservations about the order of Illumiatus in general, there were important stops to be made at the temple. Barrett was just as sorry to be leaving Mellorius as the master was to lose a pupil. But he promised to try to carry on the older man’s excellent tradition.
Nema’s reaction to the news of her most frequent patient’s departure seemed odd to Barrett. Had he really made that much of an impression? The kiss seemed too quick and too little, but the priest agreed that more words would only make the situation more awkward.
Galliban’s absence was both unfortunate and something of a relief. Barrett doubted that the novice paladin would even care that he was leaving.
The exchange of gifts with Onu was touching, but it also had the feel of a business transaction - or perhaps a ceremony- of some kind.
*****
The Tutor’s parting words were almost unnecessary. An explanation of things that Barrett understood almost instinctively.
The decision of where to go seemed obvious. To continue learning arcane lore as well as getting a feel for politics and the threads that made up the pattern of the Empire’s fate: Citadel.