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Post by Lord Rail on Mar 3, 2015 13:16:11 GMT
"Master Buliri is right, Aebra--calling in Prince Clovis now, of all things, isn't only political suicide but possibly a real, mortal danger to the Colleges...
"Prince Clovis is noted for speaking out publicly against unlicensed practice of magic, and these Witch Hunters of his are some of the best counter-Abjurers I've ever encountered in...travels. It is best we keep the monster of a child out of this, unless we must fall on a contingency."
The Grand Necromancer then turned to the Gnome-Troll, scratching his chin to what the man was preaching, apparently worried of similar things. Of course, unlike the Grand Illusionist, Rail held no secret allegiances, nor did he wish to stir up trouble for the sake of some global practical joke. He was scarcely aware his distrust of the Duke should have been shared with the other man.
"If it's a Planar War the Prophecy envisions, then all we can really do by that point is keep our realm secured to the best of our abilities, and if all else fails, throw our gate out of alignment; I'm not one to normally suggest this, but I refuse to take the battle anywhere near the Lady of Pain's realm. One snap of her fingers and our world is put in a shoe box serving as her foot rest. We'd be permanently cut off from the Elemental Planes, the Plane of Shadow, the Ethereal...if we were to simply toss ourselves away from any coterminous boundaries, I think we'd be alright."
But then again, if the battle were solely here...what was the meaning of this, Buliri..?
"No Judgemasters, then. I'm sure the Namorans will use them just fine. You all can make use of the Duke's Golems, and if I must, so shall I. We shouldn't be quarreling with one another before we truly know our enemy.
"Aebra, I must ask you to please not go behind our backs and speak to Prince Clovis."
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Post by The Brass Duke on Mar 3, 2015 13:42:29 GMT
"Oh I can guarantee the man will do no such thing," sounded a voice somewhere nearby, coming from the garden. In the space of just seconds, the Brass Duke marched out beneath one of the many trellises serving as entrances to the vast greenhouses with his cane in tow, striding towards the other Grand Mages with a sure pop in his step.
He eyed the Gnome's current appearance and regarded the madman with feigned disgust, but of course slapped the creature on the back anyway, a show of their known brotherhood. To the others he lifted his scepter and tipped his head.
"Good morning, gentlemen. While you've been engaging in what I can only picture as the most boring circle jerk ever, I've been hard at work doing some investigating." He looked well-rested, as if the man hadn't touched an ounce of alcohol in days. Maybe it was the power of alteration, or perhaps he used his power to purge the liquid from his system. Whatever the case, between the Transmuter and the others, he looked fresh-faced and ready to face the day. He reserved a callous wince at Aebra, however. The prude didn't drink, and so he wouldn't usually look like a piss-soaked hobo in the morning.
The Brass Duke folded his hands together and brought them up to his face, where he breathed in deeply before continuing. "The Kolyarut from Namorn brought the Sky-Pirate in this morning to meet with our Fallen. The two are in discussion as we speak, and from there will be setting out as soon as the woman's airship arrives and has been checked. We should be ready by the time they're set to leave, or our unpreparedness will cost them greatly. I've no doubt we've come to a consensus about responsible parties, yes? You people suggest a dark matron is involved, while we have an Imperial Wizardry to engage. Our defenses should be strictly monitored, and if the Mad Maestro thinks I should assist, then so be it. I'll send Titans to each of your Colleges first thing this afternoon. A manual will be present so you may read up on how to control them. As for an offense, I have a suggestion..."
The Brass Duke's unsettling grin echoed Rail's earlier statements, eliciting a mad air about him that was difficult to read. He reached to one of his leg-pouches and produced what could only be described as a bangle, or collar. It was made of iron, and inscribed with Dwarven runes, topped with a soldered seal of House Brass.
"I'm no expert in Diva's field, but before our falling out we worked in conjunction developing these," he said, handing it over to Buliri to inspect. And just so the others wouldn't jump to the conclusion the two royal mages were in cahoots to subdue their colleagues, "Originally designed to don by students born through magical union--Sorcerers--they were meant to suppress a magician's power, or at least contain it long enough so that the aspiring mage could focus on controlling these powers. With some tweaking, a bit of creativity and a whopping heap of confidence in me and cooperation, I daresay they have the potential for re-purposing. What the Enchantress said yesterday at the meeting--controlling the enemy. It doesn't have to be mass-produced, but it could give us spies whose loyalties would never be in question. I hear they use these in Oberon for ship mages, and sometimes in the Dominion for magical slaves. We're not exactly saints, and I'd say this is the lesser of some suggested evils...and it would be well under our control.
"Of course, we could settle the matter of Arch Mage, whose ultimate decision would shape our reaction to this Prophecy of Madame Damara's."
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Post by Maestro Buliri on Mar 6, 2015 5:05:23 GMT
Buliri looked over his shoulder to the oncoming voice with a measure of surprise. He had no idea the Duke was even on the grounds, let alone listening in the whole time, but was quite happy to see his friend strutting out of the gardens like he owned the place. If there was one grumble, it was in his jealousy that the man could emerge from one of their drinking spells fresh as a daisy while the Maestro himself had to disguise a hangover in the robes of a troll with a bad attitude. When he was patted on the back, he shook his head slightly to indicate this age-old complaint to the man, as though that simple gesture told him everything he needed to know about the gnome's opinions of his "magical" ability to sober up swiftly.
The Maestro said little else, allowing the Duke to take the idea he laid the foundation for and run with it. He had a feeling the man would enjoy being the one to issue out the heavy artillery, especially considering how much he liked to brag about his toys. Plus, it went a long way toward distracting the others, making them look more closely at the manufacturer than the idea man. Rule One in effect.
When the Duke tossed him the strange collar, Buliri caught it and examined it closely. What a strange device and for such a dark purpose. The madman didn't know if he approved or thought the duke utterly insane. Whatever the case, it would certainly prove interesting to see in action since he knew all too well that even THIS wouldn't spur the others into voting or even CHANGING their vote for that matter. It really was a feeble misdirect, but the master of illusion couldn't begrudge the fop for trying. He handed the device off to Aebra after a close look, his lip curling into a slight smirk.
"I can imagine one or two pretty disciples over in the enchantment college I'd like to slap that collar on myself..." the troll-faced mage joked, watching the humorless Aebra's face for any sign of a flinch at his lewd attempt at levity. He liked to push Aebra as often as he could, he felt the man seriously needed to grow a sense of humor, or dislodge the stick from out his rear end, or both.
"How many of those do you have ready to go, Dukey-boy? I'd hate to think you'd have to pull any off your harem on our accord, or even off that charming ward of yours... what's his name again? Topaz? Zerconium?"
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Post by Lord Aebra Cheval on Mar 6, 2015 14:25:45 GMT
The Abjurer twisted just enough so he no longer faced his companions, and instead set his wistful gaze on the Prismatic wall that served as their grand tower's majestic barrier. In all their time together serving as colleagues, he never trusted the man less than he did now.
"Yes, Lord Brass. How many of these do you have? I do not seem to recall sponsoring the research of a Dominion Slave Collar--you say Lady Diva cooperated with you on this?"
The ring was passed into Rail's dead hand, who seemed just as shocked as the Abjurer something like this had made its way to the Empire, perhaps in numbers. "I should very much like to know what you've been doing with them. I don't like the idea of these circulating about our great nation. You all think Prince Clovis is dangerous?
"Have you ever seen them in use? Yes, in Oberon each merchant and Royal ship of note boasts at least a single mage, many of whom were in no shape to contest their position. Instead a majority of them had been captured, by the Zy Prince's people! And subsequently sold to these vessels for a high price."
He turned back and shook his head.
"Lord Rail? Maestro? What do you think?
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Post by Lord Rail on Mar 6, 2015 14:47:38 GMT
Turning this control device over in his hands and examining the deal of approval marked solely by the gorgon's head of House Brass, Lord Rail couldn't find any involvement on the Enchantress's part, which struck him as odd, to say the least. Eventually he handed it back to the Duke, who nodded with a smirk before putting the collar safely away.
For a moment he just stood listening to the Abjuree, watching this age-old tension between the two flare up again, and shook his head. The Wall and the Maker--two forces dangerous as opposing forces, for everyone involved and surrounding them. He did not like where this was going.
"I have to admit, this device of yours piques my interest, Lord Brass...as Necromancer, our business occasionally falls to reanimating unwilling servants, but this matter falls under a living jurisdiction...that is where our similarities end. I can not support this decision solely and allow its approval, but I can say my peace, and I vote...
"I say we at least test it out, Aebra. Under our supervision, and directed only on agents of the Imperial Wizardry."
The man's eyes widened significantly, as if he'd just proclaimed his darkest secret by mistake, and glanced at the Duke with surprise. Of all people, Lord Rail would typically side with Aebra...but didn't they all deserve a chance? Where was this coming from, anyway?
"...At the very least, we can see where it goes, and scrap it if this doesn't pan out. Unfortunately it is a better idea than recruiting Prince Massacre..."
Lord Aebra began looking about the grounds, to see if he might spot Diva in any hidden nook. Why was he saying any of this, as it was far beyond the realm of normal for him. Was he under suggestion, or were the Grand Mages truly so desperate?
"They aren't toys...we would do well to remember that simple fact."
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Post by Maestro Buliri on Mar 11, 2015 19:00:34 GMT
"Well, you don't win wars with toys, now do you?" Buliri chuckled to Rail's statement. Honestly, if he was less skilled of a trickster, his face would be just as drawn and taut as Aebra's! It was VERY unusual for the man to side with Brass, as Buliri honestly believed himself the man's only ally in the entire circle. However, to see the man so compliant was quite a treat. Part of him wondered though... could it be an influence from the collar itself? After all, had HE not also agreed with the use even though he would normally not be too cool with the idea of there being an anti-magic anything anywhere near him? He had touched the metal with his bare hands, as had Rail. The only one who had NOT touched it was the only one reluctant to use it. Buliri made a note to himself to ask Brass if his Aunt really was involved and if this was part of her nasty little trickery.
"And I agree," Buliri continued as though his mind was not on a different matter entirely. "This beats the snot out of recruiting a blood-happy psychopath. Plus, think of it this way. If we get our hands on a REAL imperial wizard, slap a collar on him, and I work my magic to hide the little do-dad, then boom! We have ourselves the perfect undercover spy! You can't deny the tactical value of this, Lord Aebra..."
Buliri chuckled, glancing over to the wall thoughtfully. "I mean... a good defense relies on more than shields and walls. INFORMATION, my friend is key to keeping any stronghold secure, am I right?"
With a stretch, the mad maestro looked again to Brass. "So, how do we go about TESTING these, hm? I'd imagine there's one or two so-called imperials in the royal dungeons somewhere. Figure we just slap a few of these on them, compell them to tell the truth about whether or not they're full of dung, and go from there?"
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Post by Lord Aebra Cheval on Mar 12, 2015 19:54:03 GMT
The three of them had ingested some manner of poison, Aebra thought, following the ring until the Brass Duke returned it to the confines of his pouch. On edge, the man was dumbfounded his colleagues would even consider such a seemingly evil device. Sure, on more than one occasion even the Abjurer wondered if locking dangerous Mages in Antimagic cells was inhumane, but it was an effective punishment. Could the others not argue a similar viewpoint?
"I have no doubts the Imperials, or any other dark forces working alongside them, will have little trouble tearing down our defenses with sheer numbers on their side...no, I am not trying to argue that we simply shield up and wait to die, I...I do understand the desperation for such a tool at our disposal, but even you three must admit it is a little uneasy coming to grips with...well, they are a Tangier trademark. Lord Brass knows better than any of us; in her hands she might subjugate the lot of us--what's to stop the rest of you, or even myself? Were I corrupt I may use them to keep the Circle in check. Diva would become Arch Mage, or worse--Sole Mage. The rest of you I trust, if not with my own life, but with the integrity of our Circle. Can we truly use these collars on the enemy?"
The man considered Buliri and he began chewing uncomfortably at his lower lip, where a small cut had begun to bleed.
"It is a temptation and I'll be the first to condemn their use, but if I'm outvoted..."
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Post by Lord Rail on Mar 16, 2015 13:40:53 GMT
Lord Rail placed a firm hand on the Abjurer's head as he shuffled past him and moved in to gaze up the Prismatic Wall; as young as he was, Aebra's fears weren't unfounded...he also had the most to lose should this vote be made against him. As the Shield, it was the man's duty to ensure safety in all matters relevant to the Crown, and that his colleagues had decided a device used to manipulate was better suited for this goal made him sick.
The Necromancer wished Zaestria were here.
The late Arch Mage knew the importance of taking big risks, and though one of the biggest of them had claimed her life, she was at least leading the charge each and every time. Since her passing, Lord Aebra Cheval served as a temporary voice of wisdom in her wake, taking cues from the others as their predecessor would have. Even Rail didn't know what Zaestria would think about these crowns. Perhaps playing safe was his only comfort?
"Lord Aebra, we are not trying to strong-arm you into something you think is wrong, and believe me when I say that we wouldn't strike you down with a five-to-one." Concern in his eyes, he turned to the others, hoping they would see the desperation, that they might join him in this. Aebra might be considered the Shield, but the man could make his allies overly mortal with the flick of a wrist, and if he were cornered...would he?
"Lord Brass, Maestro..."
The man stopped, and dropped his hand.
"Use it on me. Lord Aebra, if you can see that this may yet be a positive thing, I doubt this will come to a vote...Buliri, if you would. Lord Brass, please hand it over."
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Post by Maestro Buliri on Mar 17, 2015 20:56:26 GMT
The troll like Maestro openly began to chuckle at the suggestion. His eyes widened in pure amusement as he looked between the other mages. "YOU'RE going to put one on, Lord Rail?? Even after you've been told what it does and how it works? Someone tell me this is actually happening. Is it my birthday? This is just too hilarious to actually be taking place right now."
Buliri laughed, holding up a hand as though to stem the tide of humor that only he could see. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's just... who would be STUPID enough to actually suggest doing something so irrational? I mean- I KNOW I've got a history of some hare-brained schemes but c'mon, even I wouldn't be all 'Imma slap this slave-collar on and see if it works'!! I had no idea you had such a sense of humor, Lord Rail!" he stated between fits of laughter and deep inhalations of air to avoid passing out.
When he was done, he wiped a tear from his eye and shook his head with a great, heaving sigh. "The whole lot of ya are blowing it all out of proportion. Did anybody say we were gonna slap these on every single prisoner we take? No! We'll only use them if we ABSOLUTELY MUST, yes? I mean, its better than leaping straight to 'lets make friends with the monarch of massacre', isn't it? BESIDES - we already have a better plan in the works! Let's fortify the walls, of course, get the extra guards on active duty, and save this bit of nonsense for a rainy day, hm?"
Again, how odd was it that HE was playing the rational one? Wisdom and caution were NOT his areas of expertise but something was acting on the others, making them... suggestible.
"At WORST, we slip one onto a sleeper agent for the express purpose of gathering intel, NOT trying to control entire armies. Lord knows with Lady Prissypants, Grand Mage of the Mindscrew, we've got enough issues making sure folks aren't secretly walking puppets."
He spared a glance to their faces, reading their expressions thoughtfully. "Seriously, must I be the voice of reason while the Dread Fortune is away? Why don't we all stop and think what she'd say? I'll go first..."
Instantly, the troll disguise melted away and in its place stood a perfect representation of Madame Damara, though the eyes were shock blue instead of dead white. Buliri raised his hands and gestured in overdramatic fashion as he spoke in an intentionally over-the-top spooky voice. "Leeettt theee fallleeennnn deeeciiiiideeee.... weeee'reeee allll dooooooooooooomed anywayyyyyy!!" he mocked before bursting into laughter once more. While he had been joking, he had also unintentionally brought up a point that the real Tzigane might have done.
The prophecy did say it was The Fallen's choices that would determine success or failure...
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Post by Lord Rail on Mar 20, 2015 13:46:45 GMT
As comical as it was seeing the Illusionist fade into a more familiar facade, and then attempting to imitate her with minimal success, the Mad Maestro did hit the nail on the head when it came to identifying with her. Of all the Grand Mages, she would side with Destiny; it fell upon the Fallen to make such a bold decision, now and until his quest was completed.
Lord Rail tried gauging the other two men, although they remained still and as unreadable as ever. When the Brass Duke moved to grab the collar once more, the Necromancer waved him off, shaking his head.
"No, he's right. At this moment in time, we should probably just let Madame Damara's choice move on its predetermined path, and if the boy elects we use them...then so be it. Otherwise, I agree with Maestro. Let's just focus on fortifying the walls and wards. We will see the young Atticus before he and the Sky Pirate leave. We could discuss it with him at dinner."
And then the man felt a shiver run down his spine, and he spun to face the tower, where far on the other side of the grounds lay the Rainbow Tower's radiant gardens.
"Did you feel that?"
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Post by The Brass Duke on Mar 20, 2015 14:01:35 GMT
Turning, the Brass Duke closed his eyes and began concentrating on the general direction, having felt a sudden chill, like ice water, run down his spine. At first it jolted him uncomfortably, but when Rail acknowledged it he gasped. At the other end of this strange feeling the man could sense an extraordinary power, unusual in its complexity, yet also one he knew well. Diva.
Still on the premises, although she had hidden it well the night before. The Duke had assumed the woman retreated back to her dark tower after yesterday's little disaster, but now here she was, and her mood was ripe. The Duke gazed back at Buliri, offering him a private look only the two would understand in their secret plotting. Diva was one of the two's most dangerous obstacles, and if she was seeping with this much spine-chilling energy right now, what the hell was happening across the way?
Obviously she was using a bit of her mind-influencing power, weaving somehing undeniably terrible for some unfortunate victim, but who could the subject of her torment be? Suddenly the man thought of the Prophecy.
"You don't think Diva would try to hurt the boy because of yesterday, do you?" he asked casually, his watchful eye still on the Mad Maestro, hoping he would take his side in this ploy. But was this really some way to knock her down a peg? Diva was doing something over there, that much was obvious, but if she was going after the young wizard, the two might have a case for their tournament-disguised war for power.
"She did run off like a madman after the boy's test...and now she's somewhere over there playing silent dictator with some poor slug. Maybe she did lose it."
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Post by Maestro Buliri on Mar 20, 2015 18:53:47 GMT
Buliri chuckled a bit that his distraction seemed to work wonders. While he hadn't actually intended to put the choice in the hands of an upstart student still in his basic classes, it did move the main concern AWAY from what his true goal was - getting the Duke's machines in the schools. Brass sure offered a boon when he suggested the much more intimidating option of the slave collars. The Maestro quietly wondered if that was his intent - to draw focus away from the power-play with something horrible that they could be AGAINST so that the less devious sounding option could slide under the radar. If it was, then the disguised gnome would have to congratulate the man on a well constructed bait-and-switch con.
The master illusionist was about to say something when he too felt that familiar chill of ill-intended magic flick through his being. He turned his head quickly in the direction, imitating a Damara that could actually see. "She" stood there a moment, collecting "her" thoughts before looking back to the others.
"Well, she is a vindictive, self-absorbed bitch..." Buliri muttered in his voice through Tzigane's lips. "I wouldn't put it past her to try and outright kill the boy for spooking her yesterday even though he outright WARNED her it was bad in that noggin' of his."
It was hard to tell, but he HAD picked up on the Duke's intent. He played it down, however, because there really was no secret that the two of them, he and lady Diva, had absolutely NO love for one another. Any cross word he said about her was probably just a product of their little feud. However, if it proved true...
Well. Let the games begin.
"So, let me ask this..." Buliri said, still imitating the world's best Tzigane cosplay/drag show. "Why are we all standing around staring at each other instead of checking in on this?"
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Post by Lord Aebra Cheval on Mar 22, 2015 14:02:12 GMT
Simce the Enchantress had excused herself the previous afternoon, she had missed certain revelations and the Mages' intentions, having disappeared in a fit of panic off to only the gods knew where. The Abjurer hadn't even known the woman was still here; this itself was atypical of the woman, and as he eyed the uneasy faces of his two colleagues--one of which was in the guise of another--Aebra was sure something big was about to happen.
"Maestro, that will do. You're right, we should make our way to the boy. As much as I would like to trust Lady Diva, we're all unsure what exactly sent her down the hole yesterday. I don't want her causing trouble any more than we can handle, so let's go."
***to The Interview***
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Post by Maestro Buliri on Mar 23, 2015 14:19:41 GMT
It wasn't the best distraction, but there you have it. With Diva on the attack, there was no telling what was going to happen next. Better they check in on the Fallen and make sure that he was safe than to continue pressing the matter here. Besides, the Maestro had managed to solidify the logical nature of having sentries posted, and reaffirmed it using Brass' little slave collar play.
"Here's hoping the woman hasn't made the boy's brain into clam chowder by the time we get there!" the Maestro muttered as he walked along, carried by much longer legs than he was used to and easily gaining on the others. It was almost comical to see the image of Madame Damara bounding across the grass in hot pursuit of... well, anything. Especially without Kizzy on hand.
***To The Interview***
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Post by The Brass Duke on Mar 24, 2015 15:31:29 GMT
***To The Interview***
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