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( RP ) The Man In Red

Discussion in 'UO Catskills Role Play' started by Lady Mal, Jan 17, 2015.

  1. Lady Mal

    Lady Mal Seasoned Veteran
    Stratics Veteran Alumni Stratics Legend

    Jul 14, 2006
    Likes Received:
    She was so sensitive to the ether that she could feel it rolling clear across the library in waves toward her. Carefully spreading two tomes apart on the shelf that hid her from view, she peered between the old books to identify the source of magic. Not the artifact she expected to see, but another late-night visitor clad all in red robes seeking refuge in the subterranean archives.

    Her interest piqued, she kept a watchful and curious eye on him as she browsed the disorganized selection of scrolls and tomes. She had been annoyed that she was having trouble finding what she sought in the poorly-maintained library ( was anyone bothering to look at the titles before re-shelving these books? ) and so the distraction was both welcome and exciting.

    Does he even realize he exudes his ether, or perhaps I am far too alert?

    With a resolved sigh, she tried to regain her concentration. There had to be something in these archives about the Archmage Anon, but she was finding nothing in this half-organized mess. Anon should have been at the other end of the bookshelf, but so far she had only found a myriad of biographies about Nystul and other famous mages and extremely out-of-place documents about the most mundane things like exotic recipes from Paws and the migration rituals of North Britannian barn owls.

    And suddenly he was on the other side of the bookshelf and her focus completely shattered. He was an oven that had been stoked up, only instead of that intense heat there was a persistent and subtle energy, part electrical and part acoustic, that seemed to pulse from him. Like that energy, she felt the small hairs of her arm lift and her heartbeat quicken. She closed her eyes with a tight swallow and softly chanted the first mantra that came to mind.

    “Un..” She took a deep breath. “Un..” Keep it up.. “Un..” There we go..

    At peace, she quickly ended the spell that increased her magical awareness. Even dampened, she could feel it at this close range. There had to be more to it than mere aura, perhaps some charm he was wearing or some trinket.

    Peering over the top of a row of books at eye level, she got a closer look the robes he wore. They were purely red and marked with the arcane symbols of her most recent peerage. A controller. She did not remember any of the others broadcasting such energy. Had he discovered some new method of power storage? The implications were tremendous. The amount of machinery that could be powered by such a device had the wheels in her own mind turning at an alarming speed.

    Be he madman or be he fool?

    To stroll about with that much energy blaring unknowingly was akin to strapping raw meat to oneself and trying to swim across the Britannian Sea. Every tried and dedicated mage seeking power would lock onto such a beacon almost immediately and try to acquire it, some by any measure. Again, that question played in her mind.

    Does he even realize what he is doing?

    She quelled a moment of panic. So far, she had managed to keep well below the notice of Minax, but who knew how long that would last, she only hoped the dark enchantress might not even be aware that she was still alive. Either way, if Minax was looking for power ( and she frequently was ) there was a risk that she would notice the man in the red robe, and that might not be so fortunate for Mal. She slipped her hand into her pocket, fingers closing around the shard hidden within. That would not be fortunate at all.

    She turned the corner of the bookshelf to confront him about his foolishness and was very nearly floored. He didn't even bother looking up from his book, he was so absorbed, but he didn't have to. She'd had years, long decades to commit that visage to memory. Every etch and curve, aye, she knew the outline of his face all too well and here he was after so long. The gypsy vision flashed in her mind. She took a breath and steeled herself for her next words.

  2. Lady Mal

    Lady Mal Seasoned Veteran
    Stratics Veteran Alumni Stratics Legend

    Jul 14, 2006
    Likes Received:
    “Excuse me,” she ventured.

    He was leafing through an older tome, The Arcanus Diabolica, and moved aside to let her by without looking up. Courteous, but mistaken. She tried again.

    “Do you know where they keep books on the Council of Mages?” She almost couldn't take her eyes off of him as he paused in consideration.

    “Ancient orders, would be in the stacks in the back of the room.”

    “Ancient! The members might be.. I suppose.” She muttered and moved further along the shelf, studying him while pretending to look for something else. He was looking through scrolls in ancient Terathan on demonic creatures. Curious and fascinating.

    "Doing some light reading?" He missed the jest, or ignored it, as he answered most seriously.

    "If one wishes to change something, then one must understand it first. Even if one only intends to change a something into a dead something..."

    "Do you really need such a complicated scroll for murder?"

    "Not if the victim was human... or even of this world,” came his cryptic response.

    "This place needs to be organized!" She threw her hands up in frustration.

    He checked another scroll. "They tried once.”

    “What... when Zog organized?" she quipped.

    "Six times. Now we have the remnants of six different master librarians doing the same thing different ways.”

    She could only laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation he described.

    "Word has it the last one had the idea of making the books sentient. There are a few flying about somewhere..."

    "That's why I stick to Terort Skitas these days.."

    "When I studied here the sentient books actually started breeding, so they put a stop to it."

    "Now that's interesting, probably one of Clainin's idiotic ideas.”

    "Terort Skitas.. the tower of knowledge. Interesting. Clainin had retired by then, it was Master Skokus.” he explained.

    "Well, you can't study in Montor.." She shoved some scrolls around, still attempting to appear occupied.

    "I am Minalan the Red, by the way.... And if you find anything on Terathan Demonology, I would be indebted to you."

    "You look very red," she replied, “I am Mal. And you would owe me the biography and records of Anon."

    "Anon, the only one who spoke out against Nystul when he sundered our world."

    “I didn't realize Terathan practiced infernalism,” she replied.

    "Not that Nystul would listen to anyone.”

    "They don't. I am looking for legends, tales, and accounts."

    "Nystual.. now there's an overrated mage. Well... I know there is some question about the mozaic in Delucia. You aren't looking for anything specific?"

    "If you would accompany me sometime, I do need to visit Terort Skitas next."

    "You have not been there?"

    "I have, but it is best to travel there with company..."

    "Are you with the council?" She narrowed her eyes, hoping with all her heart that he wasn't.

    "I am looking for what the gargl describe as "An Lor Bal-Lem." He snarled, “I have no affiliation with anyone except myself.”

    She nodded slowly, relaxing. "You probably won't find much of that here without being on the council."

    "When I completed my Master's trials, I have had no further contact with anyone on the council. They are of no use to me or my goals. In fact one of them intends to put a stop to my research, and they are welcome to try.”

    "Who is your master?" she asked.

    "My master is dead. Archmagus Adaephon Dehlat instructed me in the art. One of the greatest of our kind to live..."

    "I do not recall ever meeting him.” She wouldn't have, since she hadn't been back in Moonglow for ages, but he didn't need to know that.

    "He taught here for a time, but mostly kept to his own affairs otherwise."

    "Smart." It was very smart, actually. Especially, if one were working on a project that would raise more than a few eyebrows among the Council.

    "Contact me within a few day's time..." he said.

    "I think they are withholding what we both seek."

    "Terort Skitas won't." He was completely serious.

    "It won't have what I need. Do you know Anon personally?" she asked, but he shook his head.

    "I was only a student then."

    "You know, they used to call Mondain “Bal-lem”."

    “The gargl are literal in their descriptions, but not unique. But I won't discount the possibility."

    “I am surprised they even let you in here,” she remarked.

    "I still hold the Master's rank, they cannot deny me."

    "How do I contact you?”

    He reached into the sleeve of his long, flowing robe and set a rune into her palm. She looked down at the rune and as they touched, she nearly felt a jolt. He studied her for a moment then and she wondered if he knew.

    "Come to my tower, but be careful... The dead guard my home... They will surely attack, but it is nothing a fellow master cannot handle," he cautioned.

    "Thank you for your concern."

    He shrugged. “Some of them bowed down to worship my last guest. The necromancer Jacuyl. I think she was showing off.”

    "Necromancers. When do you want to visit?"

    "Give me a few day's time to prepare."

    "Prepare for what?" Her eyebrow raised in curiosity.

    "Give my apprentice something to do while I am gone. Prepare books to take copious notes. Complete another research project with the Necromancer I mentioned to forge a powerful weapon..."

    She nodded, "I will call on you."

    "I look forward to it, magus..."

    "It was a pleasure, milord."

    "No, it was all mine. It's strange to meet anyone who gives a damn about books." He moved as far as the stair. "That's enough walking...I am magi."

    “Books are my life,” she said softly, mostly to herself.

    “Kal Ort Por.”

    Then he was gone and suddenly she could breathe again. There was no doubt about it, he was the man from the gypsy's vision. She recalled out in a hurry.

    "Kal Ort Por."

    She only hoped she was ready.