ENERVATION-A Tale of Shadows & Silence

[Aidinthel]

What Amaunator said. *loses interest in conversation*
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Evil is the new love.

I never nuked anything that didn't stop being an immediate problem.

[Samej]

The sleek sides of the Cruor Mort slide silently through the coastal waves as I peered out from the port side glass shelled hole of my cabin. I had already stowed my belongings, what few objects I had required for this journey besides my Uruquim, a spellbook locked and sealed with the spirit of a water elemental, and my rarely used but handy alchemically silvered daggers. They were a gift from my late Master, Zain Tazidem, before his retirement from the world of the living 7 years ago.

"Less sirrup a glas mir ah ah!" rang out a voice from out on deck, rattling off a line of commands in a bizarre dialect. It seemed it would take some time to get used to the crew.

~

My position as High Magus entitled me to the label as a Jack of some trades and a master of some. I could throw a dagger as well as a Southern Colorn Rogue and could change the forms of a battalion of resistance fighters in but a few seconds. In short, I could be anybody.
My only joy though, was to experience the usage of my spells, experimenting and theorizing in many situations and settings.

In spite of my self-sufficiency, Alaric saw fit to appoint a member of the journey force as my second, to make sure no harm came to my being. He was a smallish man in the brown leather coat and vestments of a Journeyman Sniper, the tricorn on his head and his camoflagued cloak fortifying my observation. His name was Ezem Merkal, and he seemed to take more interest in the care of his heavily modified Repeating crossbow than my being. He usually took watch outside my cabin day and night, his large nose and long brown hair recognizable from a fair ways away.

We fully left the confines of Zinirian waters on the 8th day out, passing into free seas. Dangerous seas. Superstition ran rampant on ships not in the company of a wizard. I could calm the crew with a glance, change the direction of a rogue wind with a short murmur and the wave of my hand. The crew saw me as both a protection and a weapon. No sane man would come within sight of a Magus in open waters. Pity that sanity is scarce among corsairs.

Captain Alaric spotted her on the morning of our thirteenth day out, a caravel flying a black sail with a solid red dot in the center. Corsairs, of the insane variety. We were an expeditionary force, although most of the crew were seconded from the Zinirian Legions, our mission was not the killing of corsairs. However, the crew had been more than curious at the sight of even my most minor cantrip, and I appreciated an audience on this leg of the trip. Still, we weren't obligated to attack.

Thus it was with a smile on his lips that Captain Alaric ordered an adjustment of course when the corsairs fired off a barrage of test shots, more to scare us than to damage.

I sighed at my good fortune to have prepared some spells for trouble this day. I went into my cabin to gather some scrolls and my daggers as Merkal tested the range from the corsair ship with some test bolts.

[Amaunator]

Interesting, Samej . This a whole new tale I believe? :p

Too bad it's all about mages again!

Just one thing I saw (not really bothering with plot development just yet, though a little well-meant description would have tied the world a little bit more together? :p): 'a fair way's away'.
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the sun may melt the rain
may rinse the sky may sink
the clouds may meet the dirt
may drop your heart may heal

feelings of love you love
fluttering hearts you hate
revealing souls you love
breaking spirits you hate that

the sun...

[Samej]

[Amaunator]

[Nuclearbear]

[Samej]

Please note I have lost interest in this story, it is open for any to continue, it was just a quick experiment for myself with perspective anyway. I will certainly not be continuing it anytime soon.
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~Man is felled by his own design~

Samej Arkanus-Poet, Scholar, Archmage

[Amaunator]

[Nuclearbear]

Just as planned.....
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Nuclearbear, The breaker of forums and the Hitler of happiness

[Samej]

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"Sik Raiders. Nothing more. You needn't trouble yourself, Magus.", Captain Alaric said in a disappointed tone.

Indeed, it seemed the pirates were hesitant to come near, yet something drove them on. There. It was a glistening pinprick of light at the pirate ships bow. None of the crew had seen it. I watched with curiosity as it glistened in the moist and grey midday sun.

"Problem, sah?", Ezrem asked from behind me.

I shook my head, eager to be rid of that mysterious light, but there it was again. Flickering. Most perturbatory indeed.
"Captain? Captain Alaric?", I called out without turning.

No answer. Then, it happened. One ship, one measly obstacle on this voyage, glistened once again like a watery veil of heat tricks. One ship became two. Three. Four.

"Captain!", I called, turning about.

He stood by the main mast, and his eyes went wide in surprise. He cursed dryly.

"Haul the main stole, draw out the high holes! I will not lose a Magus to bloody Siks!"

Yes, that would be my fate. I was too valuable to kill. Too valuable to die.

A whistling sounded in the air, and the two leading ships jumped the large distance between us in mere moments. They were upon us in seconds.

War. No matter the theater, I always have the same reaction and feeling. It is War, any fight, any thrown angry punch. War. I slowly rise from the deck; a hot liquid running down my back, the clumsily thrown dagger missing the Imperial Marine and finding my mark instead. Ezrem is gone. I am surrounded. Their prize. I shall not fall so easily.

Tall. Dark. Brooding. Black skin. I feel his breath in the air. The eddies of his blood pooling and pumping. I change him, reversing the flow with a mere thought and a grimace. He falls, lifeless.

Short. Fair. Female? A quick sword thrust. The blade turns to melted wax. Her head becomes the wick. Her mind, the flame.

Alaric. A brief interlude, a momentary glance through the movement of bodies. Silence. The curses of Ezrem and the Siks fading. Nothing.

I am alone. A solo actor on a forgotten stage. To be lost and single in the realm of the lords of reality. To change and change myself. To dream awake. To change-

Sound. Light. Memory!

"You are mine Magus!", shouts the wild man. Scars, ritualistic in nature. Striking it is, how easily his flesh gives way; so many small seams in the fabric of his wet home. The deck ripples with change. Plants grow and die a thousand times over before my eyes as another rushes forth. Another fool. Another supplicant for the dinner plate.

He flees. It is not a charge. Coward. The word rings in my mind. I stare in disbelief. What does he run from? He runs to me. Shaman. The bone and muscle and sinew of a dozen dead men line his necklace of thought and worry.

How shall I feed the ones I love. Disgusting. How shall I feed myself, how shall I survive?

Dry. So thristy, his blood looks inviting on the deckplates. I stare. I wonder.

"-gus."

Sound, what is that light of noise? Has the audience arrived?

"maguss..."

Low, unnatural. Echo. The myth dies.

"Magus!"

The play ends. The battle is done.

+And yet the bloody fool kept standing there, starin' at tha bloood lik it was es dinnar. I seen spooky pak before mate, but this one kills the rat, as they say. He notices. +Yea, ya bleeding fool, we are here!++

The crew faces me. I swallow. I hurry away. An uneasy silence. The ships are sailing fast away.

+I fear for my crew, yet I know this thing is one we must abide.+

What great surge has happened, I wonder, to warrant those stares.

+He needs to learn to not lose himself. I've seen it before. It's sometimes worse.+

What can be worse than the stares of quiet fear?

+I shall calm the crew, ease their fears.+

I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

+I wonder what the next dawn may yield?+

Blood.

+Blood.+
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~Man is felled by his own design~

Samej Arkanus-Poet, Scholar, Archmage