NationStates Jolt Archive

The smell of the spell components filled this musty room, the scent of dark magic infused into every fragment of material here. This place, every small detail of this room, had a history to it, a story to tell which was full of immoral actions no doubt. Even the more plain of objects which hung in strange jars from the ceiling like crumpled and faded rose petals, which were containing a swaying prison of glass, has a deep story to tell about their owners.

And the owner of this place was sat in his usual position, upon his throne of knowledge, the seat of his own personal empire, his pedestal to his greatness. That of his study, his grand study to which few entered, and few lingered too long as to want to leave. He was sat proud and confidently, with no lack of focus or thought. Everything in his life was dedicated to a task, no moment wasted. Every minute devoured and consumed for it's worth, and due to this nature, sleep was rare and short.

His eyes were focused at this point on a will, not his own, but rather an individual who had passed away not so long ago. Someone that this dark robed mage knew, and had worked with for some time. This did not mean that the mage had any love for his companion, and he severely doubted the other necromancer had any friendship towards him. They both found the other useful for their own purposes, and each one knew the other would turn against them if they were not useful anymore. Such was their lifestyle.

And it would seem that this individual had fallen under mysterious circumstances. And due to his recent....experiences, the master of this small home was curious as to why. His colleague was powerful...more powerful than himself perhaps...and the fact that this other mage had recently acquired a vastly powerful tomb did raise questions as to what was contained within the book.

Candle light glowed over the finely written will, which was under the scruntinous purple eyes of Shalafax. It went over the dead man's possessions and items, and through some arcane methods, had revealed the message which was only intended for him.

Reading the passages, his mind began to consider the options available.

"Apprenti! Come forth at once!" Shalafax commanded, his eyes still upon the parchment. His voice was it's usual authoritive self, and it seemed to make the room cringe slightly, the vast collection of books shrinking in size.

The master of the apprenti was a tall man, one with an aura of authority and power. His eyes were a deep colour of purple, one which shone darkly, and hid motives of things which mortals should not ponder. A large oval ring was upon his pale finger on his left hand, which had the same dark colours as his eyes.

His face was almost attractive, well shaped and well formed. It would be attractive that is, if his face was not always in some emotion which translated into something foreboding. His thin lips were almost always in a sneer which mocked the world, and his forehead carved into a frown. He wore the finest of robes, a pitch black robe with subtle lines of crimson and gold, and symbols which gave it properties which few knew of. Within that robe were no doubt items which aided his dark pursuits...

"Apprenti!" The mage commanded once more, his voice audible to the apprenti no doubt. He would be attending his studies or chores, or whatever he did this time of the day.

The master and teacher of this apprenti intended to teach the apprenti many things this dark and cold night, and get into his possession a very potent artifact.

Very potent indeed.

Jayna jolted awake at the sound of her master’s voice. She had fallen asleep in front of the fire again! Standing up, she straightened her clothes and brushed soot and ashes off of her skirt.

“Apprenti!”

She could hear the impatience in his voice as he called her again. She quickly stowed the book she had been reading and hurried down the hall to the study.

Outside the massive wooden door she paused for a moment to collect herself, turning to the large decorative mirror that hung on the wall across from the door and scrutinized her reflection.

No one would ever believe I was a necromancer’s apprentice. Hell, sometimes I don’t believe I’m a necromancer’s apprentice. Jayna had thick black hair that fell in waves to her waist and sparkling bright blue eyes which made her look more like a gypsy than a magician.

For as long as she could remember, Jayna had been fascinated with the practices and theories of magic. As a child, she spent countless hours buried in huge, old, dusty books or staring out her bedroom window, dreaming about magic. When she came of age at last, she was heartbroken to discover that the only magician in need of an apprentice was Master Shalafax, the necromancer.

He wasn’t a bad master, not by any means, but he was strict. He would tolerate neither insubordination nor sloppiness, and he worked his apprentice hard. Jayna was diligent and quick to learn, but clumsy and scatterbrained. Master Shalafax was going to be very cross with her for her tardiness, and she knew it.

She took a deep breath and turned to face the door of the study. She pushed it open and entered the room. As she made her way back to the master’s chair, she brushed a glass jar with her elbow and it fell to the floor, smashed to a million pieces.

“Oh!” she exclaimed and hurried to clean up the mess. In doing so, she sliced a finger on the cut glass. Quickly binding the cut with a small scrap of muslin, she moved to the back of the study and stood before Shalafax.

“Yes, master?”

The teenager slept peacefully in her bed. Her long golden hair lay across the soft egg-shell blue pillows. Her pale, slender body was covered by layers of colorful, exotic, expensive fabrics. The soft moonlight coming in from the window made her face shine brightly. The light was soon blotted out, and a dark shadow covered her bed.

The man stood outside the window and looked down. The climb had been hard, but years of experience had made him ignore the pain. He gently pulled a small knife out of a pocket and gently pried open the window. He opened it slightly and slipped in.

Roland stood just shy of six foot tall, his muscles were noticeable, but he was still lean. Wearing dark green cloth, brown and black leather clothes, he was nearly invisible under many circumstances. At 37 years of age, he had been robbing people since he was living in the gutter when he was a kid. A sword usually rested at his side and a bow on his back, but this time he only had a long dagger.

He reached inside his black cloak and pulled the dagger. Roland moved quietly to the girl, she couldn’t be more than 17 or 18 years old. He shrugged, raised the dagger and plunged it into her throat. The girl’s eyes burst open, her mouth opened to scream, only to have her dark red blood ooze out and stain her bed.

Roland continued to cut and plunge, until the girl had stopped twitching and the bed was now red with blood. He wiped the dagger on a small part of the bed that remained unstained. He went through her room, opening boxes and taking anything that might sell for a good price…or get him a few hours with a woman.

He went back to the window, opened it, and moved outside. He carefully climbed down, using the cracks between the stones and bricks as hand and footholds. When he reached the bottom, he darted across the field from the castle to a grove of trees. Another man stood there, holding two horses.

“Roland, what did you get? This place was easy to get into.”

“Agreed, plenty of jewels and stuff to get enough food, women, and drink for the next month; you?”

His partner smiled and held up several small leather pouches. “Gold, silver….enough for a week or so.”

When Roland’s partner had turned to get on his horse, Roland attacked. The dagger slammed into the other man’s back, and then it was quickly brought out, his partner lay on the ground for several minutes before dying. Roland wiped the blood off on the partner’s jacket and he everything off his partner, leaving just a bleeding, naked corpse.

He mounted his horse, took the other’s reins and trotted back to town. He took them both to a secluded stable; paid the caretaker to house the horses, and then Roland turned and walked to a nearby pub. He got a large mug of ale and went to a dark corner to drink. The night had been productive; he could relax for a while before getting a new ‘partner’ and rob some more.

The owner of this place and the one responcible for teaching this girl still sat within his desk, those cold purple eyes looking at the recent display of clumsiness that his apprenti had just performed for his enjoyment. Shalafax gave no sign of irritation, sympathy or any emotion which would give his apprenti an indication of his thoughts. It was common for him to do this, to examine a situation for long cold seconds, before flowing into a state of action. It never got any easier for his apprenti. Those purple eyes seemed to be like an army of inquisitive spiders, who hairy bodies crawled all over what they looked at, examining, feeling, questioning...considering what to do with it, how they should react, all the while the individual under scrunitney felt that army crawl over thier clothes and skin, frozen by fear of failure.

Shalafax, although he gave no display of his emotions upon those pale cruel features of his, was considering the course of action ahead of the two of them. He was not considering what to do with the girl about this failing in attention and discipline, but rather, he was considering how to use her abilities and potental to best serve the situation.

A dozen slow heartbeats passed.

Shalafax, still sitting within this dominanting desk which was littered with the books of years ago and knowledge, which was dangerous to one's soul to understand and persue, had made a course of action. One which would teach his apprenti some lessons, possibly make her more experianced. And possibly get the girl killed. Either way was good with Shalafax. He needed an apprenti who was not clumsy, and knew how to deal with people. If his apprenti did not start learning some basic ways of behaving, she was never going to be useful.

Shalafax rose like a serpant, rearing to strike, his shimmering robes like draped water around him, that black silk granting him more of a dominating presence. His long healthy black hair was the hair of a sophisticated man, far from what people expected. He had a small amount of course black bristle on his pale chin and cheeks, as he had not shaved in a short while. Time was always against him.

"It would seem my apprenti has her wishes granted at last. We head out in an hour. Make ready your things." The Master informed his apprenti, his voice cool and calm, the deep vocals smoothly delivering his message.

It did not contain the harsh reprimanding tones Jayna was expecting, and his message was most rare indeed! Shalafax rarely asked her to go out at all, and that was purely for components for various experiments or lessons. And he was coming with her!

Little did she know of the nature this trip would be, and what lessons both her Master and the world of dark intentions would provide her.

It's a joke. It's got to be a joke. Jayna thought. Master Shalafax hardly ever left the house, and had never permitted her to travel farther than the market. She looked into her master's startlingly purple eyes and realized that he was serious. Deadly serious. Jayna's hear skipped a beat.

"Oh thank you master. I'll pack right away."

Master Shalafax dismissed her with a nod of his head and she ran off, nearly knocking over several more bottles as she went.

Jayna flew to her room and closed the door behind her. She dragged her travel bag out from under her bed and opened it. Then she unlocked her wardrobe. She pulled out her traveling cloak and laid it on the bed. Then she folded three work dresses very carefully and placed them in the bag, followed by a nicer evening dress, and undergarments.

She pulled off her work shoes and tossed them in the bag before closing it.
Then she slipped on her travel cloak and boots. She went to her mirror and picked up her silver hairbrush. She unpinned her hair, brushed it out, and rebraided it, letting the long braid hang down her back. She tucked the brush into the pocket of her cloak, picked up her bag and returned to the study.

"I'm ready, Master." She put her bag down and waited.

Tag

As the Apprenti departed from her Master's sight and his study area, he let out a small sigh. It was not one of irritation, nor frustration...the sigh was strangely breathed out of the necromancer's thin lips. He heard the clicking of his studant's feet against the floors of his home, eminate towards him still as they grew faint.

Reaching out a cold pale hand, he began to place some of the library of books upon his desk, into the larger library of books upon his walls. Most of which were covered by arcane runes, the spines revealing little someone not of a magical breeding, but much to others who understood the language of infinate possibilities.

Once he had tidied up his own desk, and put everything in order, he reached into his small wardrobe, which held more than just clothes, and like it's name, held small wards which prevented anyone but him from entering. Jayna had discovered this when as she often did, tried to look in something which she was not welcome to look in. She had never looked into this wardrobe, or seen him in the attire which he was soon to place on.

He opened the wardrobe with a word, the black wood gliding open, utterly flawless in function. And there was revealed his own small collection of items, all mystical and powerful in nature. This wardrobe opened only when he had to leave his own home. And that was extremely rare indeed.

Reaching into the shadowey container of things arcane and powerful, he plucked forth a cloak, one which was immensely light, and shined in the darkness. It seemed lighter than air. Other than that, it seemed a rather normal cloak, no runes upon it, no stars or anything. But it was noticable for it's characteristics, as when worn, it did rise up more than a normal cloak should.

Next, he took forward a single ring, which had a small hexaganoal green rube, which seemed to be hidden to sight. If one to look intensely into the surface, there was a dipiction of a growing tree upon it. This ring was immensely useful to this mage, and one which he rarely left without. He then took out his two gloves, which were a highly dark crimson, which contrasted slightly with his immensely black orientated clothes.

Lastly, he took out something which he had made himself, and placed it within his robes. It was his defence when all spells ran out, his most flexible and useful device.

Prepared with rations for himself and another, and the spell components he would require, Shalafax was prepared to leave.

Well, almost.

He looked at his Apprenti, and found a little wanting. When he was a lesser mage, he looked forward when he was the master of his own studant. He envisioned a capabale obediant mage, which would do his bidding and prove himself. This vision before him....well, it sort of matched this description, but it was her....innocence which got to him. She needed to be hardened, shaped into a tool and make her a maker of tools herself.

"Apprenti. Jayna." Shalafaz addressed her, granting her his full attention. He did not speak quickly, more slowly this time. More...calmly. And because of this, it gave his words more gravity than they usually would hold, and might have instilled a certain fear into her.

"We will be heading out to reclaim something which is mine by right. This journey might only require a few short hours, it might require further endevours. But you must be prepared. I make no jest when I say this will be perilous, and you will learn much if you observe, and when required, assist me which your own collection of spells. Do not fail me. Prove to me that the last year I have been tutoring you have not been in vain."

TAG, for some stereotypical villainous action... if you can hold until I get back, that is.

*grumbles*

(OOC Sterotypical! I *resent* that remark! That is the worst insult you can give me! *grumbles*)

TAG: I intend to participate in this. I'm gonna wait for an opening, while simultaneously thinking of my character...

Jayna looked her master right in the eyes. "I will not let you down Master." Master Shalafax matched her gaze, saying nothing.

Finally she bent and picked up her bag. "Master? Shall we go?"

The arch mage gave a slow nod, his face filled with serious undertones. What was he planning on doing? And where were they going to go? Questions remained, exciting and worrying ones at the same time.

Shalafax, as he went to leave the place, told his apprentice to wait a moment. He went back into his house for a short duration, his intent perfectly driven and without distraction. He knew exactly where to go within his place, as his home was perfectly organized.

When he came out some seconds later, he came back with a blanket which wrapped around two large tools. He held them under his arm, and simply said, "Shovels. We are going to need them."

Things were looking strange indeed.

---

The low fog seemed to snake around the two dark figures, slithering around them in malice. The necropolis was immensely dark and damp, the utter gloom seeming impenetrable. There was no doubt that if someone did not know where they were going in this place, they would become lost. Shalafax seemed to know exactly where he was going, every light footstep which seemed to disturb the dead spirits here directed with purpose and confidence. In fact, Shalafax seemed more at ease in this place. It was as if he owned this place.

"I used to work here, is the answer your looking for." Shalafax said quietly to Jayna, in explanation on how he knew this place so well.

They went down the winding graveyard, the stone buildings dedicated to nobles and kings bearing no interest to Shalafax. The gargoyles and stone demons which glared at the two seemed to follow them.

After around a long and cold ten minutes of wandering around this holiday home for the dead, Shalafax stopped in front of a newly dug grave. The smell was of freshly dug soil, and the sweat which had aiding in putting the dead man six feet under.

"Time to dig." The Master ordered, unveiling a shovel for her, putting it firmly into her grip.

Without waiting for her to start digging, the archmage began himself. Surprisingly, he seemed rather strong and tireless in this pursuit. He seemed to be highly experienced in this, every pile of earth placed with speed and efficiency. The soil was easily moved as it had only recently been put down. The necromancer had powerful muscles it seemed, his body not really stressed by the effort of moving heavy damp soil.

Speed was vital here.

Jayna shivered and looked around before beginning to dig. She didn't like it here. There were spirits- she could feel them- and not all of them were friendly.

Master and appentice dug in silence for what seemed like hours. The girl kept stealing glances at the tall necromancer. She wanted to ask him about the work he had done in the necropolis, but she could tell by his determined expression that he was in no mood to answer. Maybe he'd let them take a break and she could ask him then...

Jayna got her wish. Several moments later, Shalafax stopped digging and wiped his brow. "We'll rest for a few moments, Apprenti." he said, handing her a flask of cool water, which she accepted gratefully.

"Thank you, Master." she drank sparingly and passed it back as she lowered herself gently to the ground. I suppose I should just ask. If Master doesn't want to tell me, he won't, but it can't hurt to try... she thought.

When Shalafax sat down beside her, she turned to him and took a deep breath.

"Master? I was wondering...you said you used to work here..." Jayna trailed off, waiting to see if she would get her answer.

"If you have a question, ask it, instead of suggesting one, or don't ask at all." Shalafax snapped, although less harshly as he might have done before. He did not seem tierd, although you could see in this eerie cold moonlight that there were indeed droplets of sweat upon his brow. He rested upon his shovel with his left hand, and reached for a scroll in his right, opening it and scanning the contents, reminding himself of the words required the activate the spell.