Spindle 651 Share Posted October 28, 2022 The Magus Spoiler The following is the roleplay between the characters Netzhal and Emelius. I am yet to see any forum retellings of roleplay, so this format is very much experimental. These are our emotes. Adjustments have been made, but the original tone has been kept. Some forewarnings are without the need of being stated - I take it this recount will not be twisted for the benefit of others. For Fowles, the diviners, and the secret places known to them. May you rest in peace. Prologue ‘I speak of Mayflowers and trees, Windswept dunes and grassy hills And a sea of sand; A tall ell and sky-water, A writer sleeping soundly And a golden muse. I am a bright vividry —Eyes and oceans—vast as night. I am the Magus.’ Act 1 In the Great Desert The writer Netzhal travels with the peculiar Magus. She is promised a muse. ‘In a desert bazaar, in a deep valley, Netzhal glanced at the sun, her gaze awned under a starkly white hand that seemed only to grow brighter under its burning. She drew up her dress and the train trailed her wake, weaving a gentle trough into the sand as she spoke with a merchant. The little woman returned with a camel by her side, a slack rope in her hand that led the creature by the neck. Hitched to its lumpy back was a water barrel and a carpet saddle and provisions.’ ‘The Magus, once she returned, lumped himself and his own goods onto the beast. He fastened with twine his trinkets and oddities to the creature.’ ‘The two depart with the rising sun behind, over windswept dunes and ventured to the place known only by the Magus.’ Act 2 By the Ell’s Bough The writer Netzhal sleeps under the limb of a great ell tree. ‘The pair arrive by a single tree, perfectly pruned with heavy limbs. The Magus finally took to rest, yanking the reigns to bid the camel stop; they violently lurched forward in that action - though this motion was hardly familiar, as the journey itself would have been similarly rough.’ The Magus “Mmm…” ‘After a long moment of puzzling at a tattered map through a camel-ride cracked magnifier, the Magus sought to speak again.’ The Magus “We've arrived.” ‘First, the Magus dismounted, reigns held, and while he drew his bearings, he extended a hand for the lady. Netzhal took his hand and gave thanks in the customary flourish of those familiar with courtly duty. The man allowed his road-worn hands to be about the work of a tight knot and he fastened the camel to a well-proportioned and heavy-set rock. Between parched lips, he spoke with an esoteric firmness.’ The Magus “Now, I'll put the Magician's Mark upon you. I can't progress further to the twin trees. It will sense a wizard's presence within moments.” ‘The man produced amidst those rations and baggage, a small pot of navy ink, and a peacock quill to match. Netzhal stood silently, and as the sleepy sun fell past the horizon, she spoke.’ Netzhal “Where is it I should go? This seems an isolated hill of no discernable interest.” ‘A smile sealed the words; in the twilight, her teeth, bright and white were the last vestiges of light and the Magus made a puzzling gesture, two fingers forward. Then, those fingers glided over to the rightmost trunk, shaded - a natural safe haven. The Magus spoke then, and out came a short reply sealed by knitted brow laced with fearful beads of sweat. It appeared he himself, was at unease’ The Magus “Under there. Lay under the canopy for a while. The creature's realm will begin revealing itself shortly afterwards. Now… Now- come here. Let me apply the mark. Is there any particular icon, or form you would like it to take?” Netzhal “This is your doing.” ‘The Magus paused before dipping the feather quill within the pool of glimmering ink, raised the dripping implement before he extended a hand of his own - coaxing the woman.’ The Magus “Right hand, please. The topmost side, if possible.” ‘Netzhal brandished her hand, the flat of her palm facing the ground. Held atop the palm, droplets of ink would fall upon it. Upon contact, the ink would seep, low, within the skin.' The Magus “Algiah. Moriah. Satar. Moriah. Shraw!” ‘The foreign words carried far in the embrowned air, and atop the hill, his eyes, for a mere moment rolled deep into the depths of his skull, revealing two entirely white spazzing irises. Then the magus finished and the ink beneath Netzhal's skin rearranged into the symbol of a bright thing: the morning star. Then he drew back, his eyes flicking normal. It was as if he was in pain. The man gasped; wearily, his brow creased in fatigue.’ The Magus “Aaa-ah! There. I am finished.” ‘Finally, as he withdrew, the marking of a morning light, embedded within Netzhal's hand began to glow with finality. A brand of luminous hues. Netzhal beheld the star symbol and its lustre played in her eyes in a melange of greens and blues. She smiled, and the luminescence licked her white teeth.’ Netzhal “This sort would have left me scatter-witted in the past; now? not so much.” ‘The Magus winced while the ethereal gleaming shone at his eyes. Half-shielding his face with a verdant shoulder, he marvelled at his work.’ The Magus “Mm, that should be insurance enough. You say this sort will not leave you agape? Good. You will need it for what lies ahead. It will not be far back from here. I doubt you will even need travel. Find me in Balian, if all is successful. Lie beneath the rightmost tree, and wait. Goodbye, Banu Netzhal. Good luck.” Netzhal “Travel safe.” ‘The Magus departs and the woman Netzhal lies beneath the ell’s bough.’ Act 3 Dream Speak & the Anima Netzhal experiences a phantasmagoria ‘Netzhal lay in the shade of a great bough, her sole companion was the lanternlight, warm and sputtering to the low growl of the wind. Her chest rose and fell gently to a heart pace and by the light, she slept. Then, the skies split, strange and changing; a churning nimbus causing commotion above the leaves that inexplicably began to contort into a vast sea. Ancient eyes appeared within a fathom of sky-water, pulsing to the beat of Netzhal’s heart.’ These eyes, luminous in the dark, beheld the gnarled willow trunk, and by extension, the wordsmith that lay sleeping. Warm gales washed over the solitary peak while haunting vividrys bathed the scene with an eerie glow. Something had changed, unseen by her and opening from the ripples in the wood would peer golden pupils. These eyes in the wood observed her silently for a time. If she dared to wake, they would regress into the tree - before it was possible for her to spy them. They simple stared for a few moments longer. Discerning all they could, about the woman.’ ‘Netzhal blinked the night from her eyes. Then, inexplicably, appearing within the span of her next blink, was a gate of white ivory; sitting inert, for but a moment. It was rendered with designs of depicted scenes and peoples; artisans, each one performing a craft. One fiddled with a lyre, the other, donned an exaggerated performer’s mask and danced about foolishly while the last appeared to be carving the very gate that the woman would inspect. Oddly, they looked frivolous in these actions, even careless in their motions - it was as if their grand talents came naturally, even effortlessly. Above them all, engraved into the ivory was an entity; a muse in strange garb, two bestial ossicones perched on his brow, wearing a grin.’ ‘Netzhal stirred for a time as the long shadows that seized her countenance—a shadow among shadows—crept away by the light and departed into the larger pool of night's shade. Now revealed to her, as she awoke was this peculiar sight. Something that was not there before. This strange gate, displaced. It was all for her to view, and to try comprehend.’ ‘Motivated by forces unseen, the mighty doors of this pale structure fastened themselves. Two unlit torches on each side of the archway suddenly burst into lambent embers and smoke. These orange hues coated the structure. Finally, upon the gate’s inscribed door, made clear by the flickering tongues of flame, did a shadow manifest and take shape. It shuddered, and coalesced before moving on the surface of the ivory, arranging itself into the likeness of that weird creature she might have seen engraved upon the relic itself.’ The Kerub “A woman, come to muse? See a muse? Be? Who art thee?” ‘The animated shadow queried, in a voice which sounded like three speaking in unison: Firstly a low beast-like growl, then an old Harridan’s drawl, and finally a lordly man’s brogue. It then waited for an answer, curiously.’ Netzhal “A writer wandered too far from the beaten path.” The Kerub “A writer!? What dost thee seeketh?” ‘The shadow laughed thrice, each voice vying to be louder than the others. From that odd bout of mirth, a little voice pierced.’ Netzhal “I aspire for nothing, and in honesty, I've arrived at this place with little details.” ‘Her voice was held by a particular inflection, quivering and scared.’ The Kerub “Thy form is laced with magic, wordsmith. Who brought thee here, here, here?” Netzhal “The Magus - Emelius,” ‘The utterance came as a whimpered and her gaze flicked across the fractal melange of eyes and sky-water and bright things. And then the thing spoke, and it mused in a tone like raging fire, whilst the low, dangerous overture of growling lingered just behind. The shadow itself raised a clenched fist.’ The Kerub “Emelius. . . How lucky thee is; thy palm brand, it marks thee exempt from mine powers, as long as these gates remaineth shut. “Yet! were ye to open the seal…” Netzhal “W-what are you? Some amalgam of evil - ancient magic like that man spoke of?” The Kerub “Nay, nay. I am an honest spirit. I revile magicians, not wanting to earneth aught for themselves in earnest.” ‘All other voices quieted and on the bountiful hill, all was with stillness for a fleeting time. The Kerub's shadow dictated with a cautioning finger, now, speaking solely in the voice of some wisened elf; it was unaged but sagely in tone.’ The Kerub “But I can causeth some excellent chaos. I once did, long ago. This is how I am sealed.” ‘The Kerub paused, realising the fault in his drawl.’ The Kerub “But such things art behind me. I have made recompensed by aiding many artists and epic heroes. I am, in all ways - a Muse.” Netzhal “Chaos is not my intent, a muse is what I desire.” The Kerub “Mine own word then! Remaineth honest—true—as thou art. In exchange, I shall giveth thee the greatest inspiration of all time. Fair? Just alloweth me leave.” ‘At its utterance, the licks of flickering flame began to dwindle.’ Netzhal “Stories speak of great men tempted by evil - is this one of those tales? Faust in his search for knowledge unknown to mortal minds?” The Kerub “Cometh now, thee lives real. I have nay a reason to deceive, doth I? I knoweth of those texts thee speaketh of, but we art not in the Aeldin. If 't be true you are not It, 'twill beest another. I am a wandering spirit, with dram purpose beyond aiding the plight of mortals. No connection, nor allegiance have I.” ‘The thing hissed and quickened in speech, and the flame grew shorter, his shadow dwindling, causing his appearance to warp and change; and as the shadows drew longer than light, and the sputtering lantern cowered in the wind and weirdness, Netzhal spoke.’ Netzhal “Then, Muse! What is it I gain? I wish for time. Time to write - an eternity!” The Kerub “Time still? Verily! I shall stayeth with thee for a time, if 't be true thee proveth worthy, I shall gift thee the time thee so desperately craves. Doth we hast a deal?” Netzhal “We do.” ‘A veritable desire swam in the woman's night eyes. Thereafter, the sounds of a deep grinding beneath a rotating wheel of stone ensued, a melody of strenuous effort. The Kerub muttered something unheard and a shadowed hand extended before the writer.’ The Kerub “Pull, and open these cursed gates.” ‘And weak as the writer was, she gripped the hand and pulled - truly a Faustian anima, and out came a gust and green clouds and strange smells of a foreign land, and Macbeth laughed on the winds. For only a moment would the writer glimpse this other place; it was a realm of abstracts and ever-changings. Yet quickly behind did the ivory archway slam shut, and out of thin air did the creature truly materialise.’ Act 4 Faust Above the Sea of Fog The Kerub and the writer strike a deal ‘This Kerub - this peculiar wandering spirit; how best could he be described but strange? He was tall, no doubt- but not exceedingly gargantuan. His skin shimmered and it was as if he was made from pure gold. Although his face appeared as a mask, its mouth moved fluidly. Inlaid within, three dark sockets peered at the woman - each bearing a golden pupil. His garb was prismatic and reflected light in many ways and aquamarine fog enveloped him. He released a single breath, adjusted his head with a sickening crack and waved a lion-coloured palm.' The Kerub “Mine freedom is claimed. How wondrous.” ‘Netzhal beheld this less than absurd shape of a man with a silent curiosity. This silence was shaken only by the gentle rustle of the leaves above which now lacked the vividry of moments past.’ Netzhal “You are the Muse? My, Muse?” ‘The Kerub's gilded smile widened as his three dark eyelets affixed the woman. He extended a palm forward, before lowering into a deep bow. His eyes glittered, looking upwards.’ The Kerub “I look forward to travelling with thee, but thy name I require.” ‘The woman replied with her true name and the string of sounds carried heavy on the winds like a foulness, a mockery of a name that pained all those ears unfamiliar with its occult origin. The Kerub smiled knowingly.’ The Kerub “But that is not your only name, is it?" ‘The creature's jaw suddenly protruded with two orcish fangs.’ The Kerub "No… thy folk are always so guarded with origin. Fear not, we will explore it soon enough. Netzhal. Thee and I will be linked for some time, it believes.” ‘The Kerub spoke with pure excitement. His now clawed fingers swirled with joy and a plume of azure smoke huffed and shaped before the novelist to the likeness of parchment. It was detailed papyrus, scrawled with fonts of passing varieties; some obscene in their size, others too small to make out.’ The Kerub “Sign thy name of birth. You will inscribe that, and a current epithet - like Netzhal, if that is what it be. Then the binding will be complete.” ‘Suprise first flashed on her face, but soon she drew out a quill from the shadowed innards of her dress and signed.’ ‘The Contract shuddered as it was consummated with the penmanship of the woman. It flew back- at an eagle's pace into the hands of the creature. It then raised a finger, allowing the parchment to collapse into an ethereal mist once more. And he smiled.’ The Kerub “When shall we pair meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? I will call you. We next meet, in the swathe of sand We have much to do, little writer..” ‘Then, the Kerub collapsed into a flickering ball of pure light and shot away—a shooting star—across the vast sea of windswept dune waves, casting them with momentary lambent bands.’ End 14 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Benjikhei 696 Share Posted October 28, 2022 c. 18xx In that place called on yonder, a dwindling green Magus shrinks away within his corner. He remains crouched amidst the baggage and fandagles of his journey, and leans against the chewing, idiot camel - within the sunlit courtyards of a Balian homestead, his nose remains lodged within a scrappy book, some forsaken aeldenic text, colloquially dubbed; 'Dr. Faustus.' The Magus turned his nose up, as the tale came to his favoured part. "No Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer That hath deprived thee of the joys of heaven . . . It strikes, it strikes! Now body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell! O soul, be changed into small water-drops And fall into the ocean, ne’er be found." - Christopher Marlowe The Magus beamed. The Magus giggled, blithely. The Magus slept. 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Nozgoth 2897 Share Posted October 29, 2022 Spoiler I like it. Good writing and taste of music. 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Goon 1434 Share Posted October 30, 2022 Spoiler I really like this, very cool post 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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