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Post by Lord Rail on Nov 29, 2014 14:10:28 GMT
To say that Lord Rail was motionless as the dead was not too far-off from the reality; although the man was among the living, he breathed and required sustenance like the rest, there was always something unusual about the Grand Necromancer that seemed...off. Though it should seem obvious, in this world things were rarely what they appeared, and it wouldn't come off strange that the authority on all things Necromancy bore a skeletal left arm. The reality, however, would shock and awe the grand gentry were they ever to find out.
At his back and with constant whispers into his ear, Death was offering the man names, places and other attributing factors as to how they must be claimed and where to deliver the leftover souls. Rail listened intently, and so he remained rather still and unoccupied, though the man was capable of multitasking with information. Talk in the present deviated from the norm rather quickly today; for once he was shocked they made it passed hostile introductions before the first hour, rather than the third or fourth. It struck Rail as odd, but then again he was also impressed. The newer Abjurer was meticulous, and when he called a meeting he ensured things went according to his schedule.
After all, Maestro had Spells to grade.
Whatever the others were pulled away from, after listening to what had been said thus far, the Necromancer was finally spurred to action, and suddenly all hopes of leaving within the hour were thrown out the window. Without warning, Rail lifted his scythe and leaned forward, swept the crescent forward and carefully scooped up Tzigane's fortune card before Aebra had even a remote chance to view it. He drew it close in a flash, then set his weapon down gently at his side.
Looking it over, the card was indeed The Tower, one of the Higher Arcana and commonly an omen of sorts. And then the blood-red "M", which was only right-side up if the Tower card was upside down. Though they couldn't be sure due to no information given, it could very well be the opposite and the aforementioned letter might be a "W". Rail didn't think so, though, as the woman presented it upside down.
He turned it over in his hand a moment before lifting his gaze to meet the Oracle.
"You speak of an ever-present shadow concealing all forms of divination, and in both cases it is a similar energy blocking it, Madame Damara?"
If this were a "W", even the Necromancer would have brushed this off lightly as a scare, someone trying to make a big show to be noticed and later on feign no--
Rail turned to Lord Brass, and stared deeply into his eyes a moment, just to see what there was to be seen. After a few seconds he gazed back at the card. It was most definitely an "M".
"While even I do not know what this means, I feel that we shouldn't simply shrug this off as misguided worry right now. Lady Diva, Master Buliri, the past is best left there, and while the two individuals have done stranger things back in the day, we mustn't shirk our responsibilities now by ignoring the fact two chairs remain empty. After all, it has been exactly one year since our Arch Mage..."
A year ago the Mages were a unit; a year ago they flew under one banner, more or less. Their leader was a Mage of great power and authority, and she united the Schools to be cooperative. It was because of her their funding increased and the Colleges each were given expansions in the form of small enclaves. Hell, each enclave now boasted an Embassy!
Rail's eyes lowered as he fondly remembered her, and as quickly as he made a half-smile, it was gone. If anyone remembered her passing, it was him. After all, though he wasn't present for her actual demise, he was charged with ferrying her soul to the appropriate Plane afterwards. The look in her eyes as she discovered his true purpose only made him love her more, because it wasn't betrayal she felt, but thankfulness that he took her arm and led the way. He always looked back on this day...
"We cannot just ignore this matter...the Succession is about to start and the Eight must be united to elect a new Arch Mage. That is the primary reason we've assembled here today. So if we can come to an understanding in this matter, fix it quick...we might save the table from wrongly-spilt blood."
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Post by The Brass Duke on Nov 29, 2014 14:36:45 GMT
The Brass Duke scratched his chin before reaching into a satchel at his side; while the others disputed about the merits of anything Mordock had to say, and the insanity which was obvious--and quite natural--for the Conjurer, the man searched for his notes, written statements taken from students he'd ordered to see the Truthsayer. Like Diva, the Brass Duke did not like escalating something so trite as a children's story, but what reports he'd received lately were rather unsettling.
At one point the Oracle produced a card with the presentation of an ill omen, and from what he could see across the table, it spelled doom for the Rainbow Tower. He never put stock into the fortunes of gypsy magic, but with the blood-caked card now in shivering hands of the Grand Necromancer...the notion of dismissing it entirely quickly disappeared.
"Aha!" he said at last, pulling from his bag a deep red envelope, and set it down hard on the polished wood. Flipping through his files, he began by bringing everyone up to speed on the Abjurer's prior contact with him, and nodded that what Mordock had written seemed to fit.
"There were three students witness to the events that day, yes. It was the Sixth, mid-afternoon and Colossus had been on its sixty-degree turn, heading back through the Vale and in full stride to make it passed the Canyons by nightfall. That is when the Castle was on the cliff edge, and the students witnessed something peculiar off-shore."
After several more pages, the Duke came to the actual reports, testimonies and authentication from the Truthsayer. He passed the leaflet around for all of them to see--he snickered when the papers came to Tzigane--and continued speaking of the contents therein.
"The skies were blue and not a cloud dared to darken Colossus' path...but in the sea a rolling hill of black tumbled about high above the normal cloud line. And supposing we could say it was a simple storm, I would have to disagree. The Truthsayer confirmed my students saw green and black lightning--green? Black?--striking the turbulent waves below, and within the electric mist rising from these strikes...a waterspout, black as ink. It moved slowly at first, but I imagine picked up speed as the Castle reached the highest point on the cliffs, where it eventually shrank back and moved deeper out of the bay."
The man shrunk back lazily in his chair and tried to wave his hand nonchalantly, as he was a very busy person. All this talk was taking away valued business, and he rather enjoyed the revenue. But this was...interesting.
"Since no one else will say it directly, however," he said low and in spite, "If there is any presence of this 'Imperial Wizardry', I would very much like to know where they have been for so many centuries; after all, their deeds have become an everyday legend. I always thought they were invented to scare Mages into being loyal to the Empire, or at least to the ebb and flow of the Natural Cycle. I don't like to make presumptions, and I simply won't accept the idea they do exist until I see more evidence. Again, how can an order as large as their legend claimed have stayed hidden for so long. And where is their large floating island of myth? Inside the Waterspout? Ha!" Honestly, let's be serious here. I do think we should worry about Caria and I daresay Mordock...but like Buliri said, let's not make a mountain out of this."
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Post by Maestro Buliri on Nov 30, 2014 13:15:09 GMT
The gnome grumbled lightly as things proceeded. In fact, he had a witty retort ready to go once the premadonna at the table said her piece, but he was quickly silenced when the seer in the room went and dropped the drama-bomb on all of them and lord high dead head went sweeping his scythe through the air. The weapon arched just over Buliri's head, obviously in full control of the necromancer but still, it made the old illusionist leap nearly out of his chair. "Jumpin' Jehoshaphat, corpse man!!" Buliri shouted once he found himself. "It ain't my time yet, so why do you delight in makin' an old man's heart race, huh???"
The mad maestro settled back into his seat. He listened with a grain of salt as once more the others went blowing things way out of proportion. That is - until Brass spoke. For the Duke, Buliri reserved a level of respect as a colleague and friend. It wasn't MUCH he reserved, but at least he didn't take time to think of a comeback or a joke at the man's expense WHILE he was talking. When the papers came his way, he gave them their due attention, which is more than he might have done for anything Diva would have shoved his way (which he'd probably use as a cushion just to piss her off). He glanced the words over before passing them along.
"Bah, all this talk of storms and missing people..." he grumbled. "Fine. If it makes everyone happy, I can get some kids together and have them look into this waterspout of yours. See if it's just some elaborate practical joke some idiot's playing..." he said, though from the tone of his voice it was clear that things were beginning to pile up in his mind. Between the W... or was it an M... on that card and the Duke going to such lengths to make sure his students weren't just making it up, it was clear to the madman that even he should be taking things seriously.
"You just see, it'll be nothing..." he said, almost as much to assure himself as the others. "We deal with how many 'I.W.' scares a year? Hm? I think last time it was a bunch of YOUR students trying for some stupid performance art piece, wasn't it, Diva?" he said with a sly grin. There had been an incident a couple months back where a few of her students had decided as part of the festivities at a local Fear Festival they'd dress up as mind flayers and warlocks and hand out pamphlets to join the Imperium. One of them had gone too far and tried to hypnotize a local into thinking it was all too real and that's when the mess had gotten out of hand.
Still, even Buliri wasn't one to throw ALL caution to the wind. If there was a genuine threat, he'd want his tower well protected. The others could fend for themselves.
With his arms crossed, a new thought passed ol' Tricky MacFizzy's mind. "Hey, Aebra. Suppose we don't find those two empty chairs in time for the succession? What happens then? The vote has to be unanimous, right? Kinda hard to have a consensus when two members are awol."
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Post by The Creator on Nov 30, 2014 15:31:59 GMT
Regina was more of a shut-in for the past few years before her ascension, but the tales of Owlbears and an Imperial Threat were no more secret to her than anything else. So despite her inexperience with these people, she was beginning to feel more comfortable around them, though as royalty she couldn't say such because that was a sign of weakness. To her side she squeezed Charles' hand again, but abruptly pulled away after recalling what Madame Damara had said.
To the Mad Maestro she spoke first, mostly because he was the last to speak but first to step up and be responsible. This struck her as odd, though, due to his horrendous reputation.
"Thank you, Master Illusionist. You are right, this whole thing could in fact be a farce; if it is I'm positive you of all people can call down the illusion of a waterspout. I have faith in your power." Her smile was bright mostly to ensure the others she was confident in their abilities, but in truth she hadn't seen them in action. Her father Severus used to return home and bemoan the incompetent Mages for days on end.
"Lady Diva, Lord Brass's notes seem to have been authenticated by Truthsayers under your pay. Is there still doubt in your mind that those children truly saw what they claimed to have seen?"
Any news of menacing phenomena was troubling to the Queen, because she was unsure how to necessarily proceed beyond asking the brunt of their magical force for help. And seeing as the Eveliegh Empire was the hub of Arcane power second only to the small kingdom of Namorn, they were rarely without some form of assistance.
"If I may...I believe we should just get this whole mess sorted out as quickly as possible, without causing a fuss in the more rural towns. Word spreads fast from kingdom to kingdom...I don't want the Capital informed unless a real threat is in our future...chaos for the sake of panic isn't in our best interest.
"As for your problem with Succession, does there necessarily have to be an Arch Mage selected immediately? You all seem to know one another well...is cooperation not the best pursuit?"
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Post by Madame Damara on Dec 1, 2014 1:08:23 GMT
Tzigane had fallen silent once more, listening to the different reactions to the card. She had a feeling that Diva would soak up this latest gossip, but she had yet to make a fuss. Surprisingly, it was Lord Rail who seemed most on edge. The diviner's eyes turned toward the grand Necromancer as she passed the papers along in front of her. She could never get a read on him... in fact, he was very much like her dear Kizzy, a being around whom she could not sense an impending death. It was for this reason mostly that she got along fine with him. However, today, she was very much convinced he knew more than he was letting on about the meaning of the letter on the card. It did not take empathy nor telepathy to sense the fear in his voice.
"Your Grace, the question of succession is a matter of-" she began, but just as she was about to continue, something overcame her.
Jerking backward, Tzigane's eyes flew wide, bursting into a white haze which lifted from her orbs. She lightly rose from her chair, her dark blue robe sliding from her slender and pleasing frame, leaving her in her rosy tunic which fluttered airily as she hovered. Above, stormy clouds circled under the high ceiling, crackling with different colored lightning bolts, revealling shadowy figures within as she began to speak in a booming voice which enveloped the entire room...
"Beware this warning of dark and trouble days,
of horror and bloodshed when armies are raised.
Mistrust and ambition, the spark of hate doth fan.
Seven shall battle across the lands.
Through lust for power, blood shall shed.
Empires in ruin and thousands dead.
A swath of darkness through it slice-
Lead by frozen fire and burning ice.
A long-lost soul from beyond the grave
In iron, blood, and mayhem shall it bathe.
And when Darkness Pure succeeds its goal
The Five shall come to seek their toll.
The world shall lay in deepest ash-
When all of life is made to clash.
Amidst the chaos, a hope may still there be-
Choices made to shape our destiny.
By no leader born nor authority elected,
But by the fallen, the fate selected.
Gathered misfits shall heed the call
And save the lives of one and all.
Many are the trials that they shall face,
Failure or success to determine fate.
To mend the wounds and unite the nations,
To defend the towers, and stop extinction.
Though the weight is much to bear,
One can be many if trust is there.
The world survives or the world succumbs
when Darkness lives and She comes..."
Just as suddenly as the prophecy overtook her, Tzigane dropped from the air and onto the table. She was limp for a moment before slowly lifting a hand to her forehead, shaking her head lightly as she did so. Kizzy reached up and eased her gently back into her seat before running off to collect her robe. When she spoke, her voice was raspy and strained, making her sound as ill as she appeared. "I'm sorry..." she whispered. She slid into her robe slowly, weakly. She even pulled her hood back on, shivering lightly under cover.
Silence passed for a long while before she slowly looked up once more. "What are we to do about this, then?" she asked, sounding as though, for the first time in forever, she didn't have all the answers...
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Post by Lady Diva on Dec 1, 2014 13:55:19 GMT
After having almost lost her cool before, Diva decided it was best to steel herself and relax; obviously today was all serious business, and though she enjoyed gossip, talk of Imperial Wizards was...boring. But there he went and said it! The woman shared a derisive glance at the Master Transmuter and at one point she imagined herself stabbing him repeatedly with the sharp end of one of her many wands. Easily this distracted her, so while everyone spoke around her she smiled, much too absorbed inside her head, and that is where she was happiest.
And then the day became interesting.
Tzigane had never lost her footing among the others, especially outside her own circle; at least Diva had never seen her at work. For a long time the Enchantress thought she might actually be a fraud. But once the other lifted off the ground, almost being completely possessed by the divines, even the hardest to impress was almost shocked straight out of her chair. A prophecy, one that encompassed current and future events, that which spelled doom for all present. Of course, with the way divination worked, none but the Oracle could decipher it alone. Even the Master Specialist may have a rough time with this one.
Finally the latter came down from her high and slunk back into her seat, with the assistance of her most loyal undead thrall and...Diva sighed. Even now the Diviner had no plan. But at least it was something.
"Called it," Diva exclaimed before anyone else could be known, slapping her open palm onto the varnish. "Does anyone care to try figuring this one out, then?"
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Post by Lord Rail on Dec 1, 2014 14:08:58 GMT
When the Divination Master Specialist fell into her trance completely out of the blue, Rail's eyes locked on immediately, as a deer in the headlights; he stumbled back in his chair and fumbled with his robes as he tried to stand, but more or less fell to the floor and took his seat with him. The scythe leaning against the table nearby fell with a resounding clang as it bounced off the marble floor.
Rail crab-walked back until he reached the wall, his hair a mess but through those silvery white strands one could see deep panic in his face. In reaction the skeletal hand reached for his black-bound book while the other clenched his collar; beneath his robes several barely-visible spectral hands bulged and writhed against the fabric, trying fiercely to escape their confines. Of course.
The man calmed down only after Tzigane had returned to her seat, and even then he refused to stand up right away. Instead he craned his neck to get a view before even attempting to move; whatever came next was to be decided by everyone present, and that tormented the Necromancer to no end.
"Wh-what...Madame, what are you saying?" he said finally, rising with the help of the wall. "You do not...can you decipher that..?"
To say the man was frightened was a ridiculous understatement. Even with Death at his ear without knowledge of the future they were all headless chickens, about to lash themselves with prophetic puppet strings, and they had no clue to what it all even meant. Rail was wracked with a sense of dread at the thought of being manipulated, and once he gathered his composure he collected his weapon and used it as a walking stick.
He turned to Diva. "If anyone could help figuring this out, Mistress, I thought you might be helpful...
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Post by The Brass Duke on Dec 1, 2014 14:27:56 GMT
Like Lord Rail, the Brass Duke was no fan of being manipulated, by prophecy or otherwise. Madame Damara had been privy to many things in the course of their acquaintanceship, and as much as he disliked her, the Duke respected her authority. Of course the most vital vision she would never release sent him into raves for weeks on end, he was positive this particular prophecy didn't seem to include that bit. Lord Brass stood up an leaned forward, both hands flat on the table as he watched the woman work.
Once she'd finished and Kizzy helped her back into her seat the Duke took back his own and folded his arms, immediately absorbed in everything the woman had just forseen. Several points in particular stood out, but then again Tzigane's visions were never truly absolute.
"Fallen," was all that really stood out as the most obvious; even when the Specialist had said it during her vision, at the exact moment thunder from the magical storm overhead cracked the loudest, and the Duke's mind raced back to his vision of a crumbling tower imploding in on itself before blasting outward.
Again Brass leaped from his chair.
"Destruction of Lucian's college! It's right there, right there!" He glanced here and there between the others for some confirmation, but it mattered little if they understood. He knew what he heard, and that is how visions worked, right?
The last time Tzigane gave him a personal reading, he didn't pay attention, and that landed him in a lot of trouble with Diva's daughter Lilith, his cousin...he shuddered, remembering the long string of poisonings, the hell...this was a period in his life he felt he had no control of, and he looked back on it always as the worst years ever to be lived. He would be sure to not make that mistake twice.
" 'The Five'? I'm not sure what that could relate to...the 'Seven', I could see being us, minus probably the Evoker. What could he possibly do, right? But why should we wage war throughout the Continent?"
Again the man sat and began drumming his fingers on the table. He was most fascinated by prophecies, and while he knew "the Fallen" was part of it, he had to wait until they could at least figure out the rest before letting them in on that part.
"Tzigane, can't you ever just divine with real answers?"
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Post by Maestro Buliri on Dec 1, 2014 20:50:11 GMT
Well. Any thought of this being a typical meeting was pretty much done now. When the divination specialist suddenly went straight-up Oracle on them, Buliri leaned forward in awe. He looked above to the illusory images in the clouds, looking to interpret every shape. He had no particular dislike for Tzigane (outside of chronic tardiness), and this was one of the tricks he liked most. It's just a damn shame that the whole affair was over pretty quickly.
Looking around, Buliri turned out to be about the only one who had kept his place and was not quivering like a baby at the sight of future events. He'd have let a laugh fly, but he didn't want to kill the mood. He laughed now, they'd all get angry at HIM when right now everyone should be pissed at Tzigane, which was much preferable. Instead, he waited for the others to speak again.
First Diva, acting haughty as usual. For her, Buliri would just roll his eyes. "Called it she says... bet she's twice as clueless as anyone else..." he muttered, then looked to Brass as he exclaimed his piece. What he had to say made sense, which was strange considering the Mad Maestro was quite privy to the fact that prophecy and the Brass Duke got along about half as well as oil and water. He'd seen the mess the man had become when... well...
The master illusionist nodded, considering the same thing that Brass did first. He leaned forward on his elbow, looking across to Aebra. "You really putting any stock into this? I mean, she basically just said straight to our faces that we can't do anything about this thing - unless you missed the part about no 'leader born nor authority elected'."
The gnome grunted, crossing his arms as he sat back once more. "Now, don't get me wrong- I'm as aware as the rest of you that trying to AVOID the portents of a fortune like this is usually what leads to its coming true. But I have a hard time thinking that we, the grand mages, lack the power to handle whatever wack-job is on the horizon threatening peace. Especially when there's only seven of them and eight of us, am I right??" he said, looking to the rest. "We should just hurry up and find our two missing chairs, squash these stupid Wizardry rumors, then hop, skip, and whistle our way right back to the status quo. If a war's REALLY coming, then we simply promote one of our own to the position of Archmage - I nominate myself, by the way - and have them direct how the Rainbow Tower responds."
Here, his flippish nature faded to reveal a stern frown on his face. He looked right into the eyes of the Abjurer, trying to make his point clear. "I cannot see any wisdom in placing our fates into the hands of anyone known as 'the fallen'..." he said, then glanced to the others. "Lord Brass is right in his assumption there. There's only ONE person that could possibly refer to and let's not forget - he blew up an entire college and killed hundreds of students, teachers, and possibly even the old master of Transmutation. Hardly a qualifying record, if you ask me."
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Post by Madame Damara on Dec 1, 2014 20:58:24 GMT
The divination specialist slumped lightly in her chair. She was winded, worn, and tired. Under normal circumstances, she could control her powers and decide for herself how her energy was to be spent. However, when the gods decided to pick her up and use her in such a way, it was difficult to stem the flow of that much power. She felt rather frail at this point, and the throwing around of voices was not helping. However, she would not allow herself to seem weak and incapable. Despite the difficulty in simply sitting up straight, she did so. The hood hung over her eyes, helping to hide the fact that they were clenched tight in concentration.
To Lord Rail, she responded first. "My dear necromancer..." she whispered, her voice a rasp so soft compared to the booming power she held before, "you should know as well as any that the act of prophecy is not an exact science. A thousand voices speak in a thousand dialects of a thousand topics at all times, and it is difficult to determine truth from fabrication. Even in cases such as this, when I am made but a pawn of the spirits' will... all I can do is remember the words. Interpretation is a highly subjective art..."
She let a soft breath escape her before she addressed the empress in the room. "Your highness... please do not take my words as treason. I am made to speak against my will in this case... There is a presence in our world... Something which compels this prophecy into motion whether we take action or not..." the last part she said to Buliri, her blind gaze turning in his direction.
"Mistrust and ambition the spark of hate doth fan... I fear this line is our role in affairs..." she whispered as she leaned back. "I intend to take no part of that... regardless what others may decide."
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Post by Lord Aebra Cheval on Dec 2, 2014 3:12:30 GMT
"Lady Diva, if you would be so kind--Madame Damara has gone ill; please show the woman some courtesy."
The Abjurer took some time to let Tzigane's prophecy really sink in, to get a feel of it. Now, just like the Duke Aebra put little stock into the words of Oracles, because he believed they could be averted, given enough effort. Of course he knew the other's reasoning was severely different, and suddenly felt sorry as the man appeared to be reliving it right now.
He turned significantly to the squat Gnome leaning against the table and waved his arms innocently; yes, she had said something to the effect, and typically all they managed to do in avoiding situations was to either perpetuate or completely ruin their opposing plans. He scratched just beneath his eyebrow with the back of his thumb for a moment as the Illusionist spoke, and what he said, for once, made sense too.
"Now, now, Master Buliri...settle, please. There will be no nominations today, I'm afraid. We still are without our two other chairs, you're correct. And if the Prophecy is warning us of Seven...we top them by one. We shall need to work together."
Next the Duke's earlier exclamation came pounding through the room like drums, and again Buliri made sense. "The Fallen", as they referred to him. An orphan, a student of the Old Tower, and one of Lucian's pupils...
"Lord Brass, the boy resides here, does he not?"
He was about to summon the guard to fetch the aforementioned ward when Tzigane struggled to speak, putting on a brave show of fortitude in passing, and it made even the Abjurer, Master of Wards, uneasy. She forsaw unrest among the Grand Mages, tension that could blossom into full-fledged Arcane Warfare.
He turned to the Empress to get her take, but before doing so, he had one thing to add:
"To your statement, Maestro--" his voice dropped an octave and his tone tightened to a more serious trill. "If those among you cooperate in any part of instigating the strife between our Circle...the full weight of the Abjurers' College will fall in line to police it. If I must, I will also speak to the Namorans about deploying Judgemasters to break it up quickly."
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Post by The Creator on Dec 2, 2014 14:46:03 GMT
Regina smiled brightly right through the hood where Madame Damara's eyes were clenched tightly, and having been sitting for some time, she rose. Everyone had said something, offered at least portions of their opinion throughout this meeting, and now they had a prophecy on their hands. Gods and goddesses worked in mysterious ways, and she pondered if Creation were responsible for this great warning.
The woman strode in a full circle about the octagon table, passing by each present mage and looking them over with scrutiny as her father had in his time. She by no means mistrusted them--she didn't even know them, and her father's only real problem was their attendance record. Each Wizard sat with intentions that were completely different than the others', and though Aebra called for cooperation, even she believed if a vote was cast they might certainly all vote for themselves.
"I must agree with Lord Aebra on this one...you are funded by the will of the Eveleigh Royal Family, and you all serve the Empire in one form or another. I cannot condone actions taken that include "battling across the land". I would like to believe my father's faith in you all was not unfounded."
She eventually returned to her seat next to Charles, who whispered poison into her ears--something along the lines of him personally not trusting the Mages, but she was still willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. For now.
"The Dominion shattered our defenses in Eastern Kythra a month ago, destroying the heavily fortified Fort Andaral, and captured several high-ranking soldiers. Kythra is our path to Knemysis and our other territories. We should be worrying about the Sun Elves...forgive me, Madame Damara, but we can afford no prophecies of infighting right now, and I will condemn all who partake."
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Post by Lady Diva on Dec 2, 2014 19:00:42 GMT
"Now you all hold on for just a minute," cried Diva, rising from her chair with a dramatic flick of one arm, tossing the seat to the floor; she moved close to the table and pointed an accusatory finger in Buliri's General direction and spun it clockwise.
"Before we all start blaming one another for the cause of some catastrophe or other mumbo-jumbo, I'd like to hear this out a little more!" "This", of course, referred to the part where the Mad Maestro elected himself as Arch Mage, and the Enchantress would simply have none of that. "Firstly, I would like to know why you of all people should be promoted, as your sausage fingers cannot even grasp the Arch Mage's Sceptre, let alone command the Rainbow Tower. Your reputation on its own is enough for me to stake my claim into a nomination, and my vote is cast for myself, Diva Li'Tangier, as Arch Mage."
Though she was probably the Grand Mage who used her power less than the others, in action she was lethal, and her Specialization was dangerous; having the power to warp the minds of people and bend them to her will was Diva's signature move. If anyone should rule the Tower? An obvious choice. Their enemies would bow to the Council at her single command.
For a moment she lost herself in the possibilities, but when someone reached out to touch her she snapped right back, and violently pulled her arm away. She motioned her long, manicured finger in an arch about the table, encompassing all in attendance with her warning and declarations.
"Mark me," she intoned. "The seat of power is no place for a Gnome who doesn't even know his true form! He has little to no noble background and is hardly a citizen to even the empire! I will not stand to allow a nomination favoring him to take place, and I implore any to stand with me on this. If we are at risk of an attack by 'Imperial Wizards', don't you think the full might of the Enchanters' College should be deployed? Truthsayers, Benders--if they are a threat, we twist their will until their banner falls under our own! The potential is limitless! I care little about this prophecy. None elected, indeed. It is by right we as a Council should have a say in shifting the course of fate."
Diva faced now Regina alone, and her face contorted madly as she advanced.
"Your Majesty, do you not agree our situation could be worse? I agree the Dominion is our top issue, and as Arch Mage I will pour every effort into crushing them--and if we can wrangle the 'Wizardry', imagine the force with which we can push them back! Our borders will be impregnable.
"I vote for myself," she said at last, before collecting her chair and taking back her seat.
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Post by The Brass Duke on Dec 2, 2014 19:18:50 GMT
The Duke sat with both arms folded, watching as everything played out, being silent as he waited for his turn to speak; the others were spouting words of destiny and fate, Mages were pitching election campaigns, while some threatened heavy punishment to those who would fight. The man's focus, however, was glazed over with worry. These damn prophecies, wretched visions. He hated the School, the practice, and any who would claim he had no free will.
In the recesses of his mind a particular instance played back over and over again, during a time he had no power over himself, his life or those he actually cared about. Dark times followed, and finally the man had to just accept what life had dealt him and move on, find a distraction, and ensure it never happened again. Of course the man would still not accept a set destiny, and his goals would see to that.
First he would have to get enough funding for the research, and perhaps then there could be some hope in resetting what had been done to Imogen...she was the beloved child, the favored of House Brass and the incarnation of innocence; she was also the only known person in all the world the Brass Duke was gentle with in any sense. He was kind, loving and really a different person altogether when she was around. Her death scarred him deeply, and the perpetual smile he made to hide this fact was the best evidence for it.
Eventually Diva had to open her trap, and for some reason his ears began to feel warm, and he thought he heard metal-scraping metal. He almost didn't hear what Aebra had to say, but because this had become something of an affliction he simply nodded to the latter's question and kept listening. Rage swelled in his chest, and although some of what Diva did make sense, she was the last person he would dare bow down to.
He shot up and nearly vaulted over the table, his outstretched hand crackling with electricity, sparks dancing up and down between his gloved fingers; as they raced over metal studs they popped and hummed, electrifying the man's full arm.
"I would see this tower burn before handing it off to you, most revered aunt," the man hissed, his voice mingling with the snaps and sizzling bolts of electricity jumping between his palm. "You would doom the world in your pursuit of power, never truly satisfied until the world itself bowed before your beauty! And what Buliri lacks in leadership, what? Does your opera knowledge give you some supernatural ability to run an entire Order? A pox on this nomination! To save us all, hell! I should nominate me!"
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Post by Maestro Buliri on Dec 5, 2014 11:36:08 GMT
Buliri's expression darkened dramatically when the Master Abjurer made his grand statement and put his foot down regarding the gnomish wizard's apparent bid to cause trouble. With a deep frown, the mad Maestro leaned forward, an elbow propped up and the fist of his other hand pressing knuckles into the surface of the table. "Is that a THREAT I hear, Lord Aebra?" he asked with a tone that held nothing of his joking manner. What he showed here was a side of himself that few had ever seen, the dangerous side of his personality. After all, what was more unnerving than the truth that what one thinks they know is nothing more than illusion?
His head turned quickly when the empress spoke up. She raised a valid point regarding where his funding came from and he was forced to abandon whatever thoughts he had of stirring up trouble for the sake of claiming an empty spot on the arch mage's seat. "Bah! I know who the REAL enemy is!" he growled as he crossed his arms once more. "I'm not suggesting we push forward with the in-fighting, I'm just suggesting we streamline the process a little dealing with-"
He never got to finish. Diva had leapt to her feet and was making a scene as per usual. Buliri had so little patience for this woman, who had to be at the center of every little scandal. At least she was true to form when she started spouting her desire for position for herself and to go as far as to insult him with small racist barbs and to go as far as to insinuate that her school was superior. When she turned to the empress to make her pitch, the small wizard could do little more than laugh.
"Oh, yes, by all means, empress... let the one person in the room who couldn't lead a fish to water without brainwashing it first nominate herself by gods!" he barked. "After all, if she can twist the mind of a ruler, what's to stop her from taking the THRONE ITSELF next? Or try to set herself up on a pedestal in the pantheon while she's at it? At least her parents were right in naming her DIVA, since she just as to be on stage at all times." He quickly changed target and spoke to Diva.
"And I'll have you know, ya talentless fop, that my 'reputation' - as you call it - is a carefully constructed web of misdirection and mystery, intended for the sole purpose of shrouding the exact details of myself, my power, and my goals from the prying eyes of anyone who would use that information against the empire. It's called STRATEGY, something you know nothing about since you rely so heavily on selling your body to get ahead in life."
Next, Brass even snapped and started yelling, nominating himself as well. The illusionist knew all too well the kind of history these two had, so it didn't really surprise him, but it did hurt a little that his dear friend didn't back him up here. What the hell did he mean "lack in leadership"?? He couldn't say much though, since he had taken the selfish route himself and hadn't nominated Brass when he made his statement earlier. Friends though they may be, they were also politicians to a degree as well. And you don't mix friends and politics.
"And what have YOU to say to all this, hm?" he asked the diviner sitting so quietly across the way. "You did have to go and stir the pot with that little stunt of yours. Maybe dissension is what you were after to begin with, hm?"
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