Lyath was known for wearing an orange cloak and her surprisingly calm demeanor; both of these things a rarity among the Flametongue. So when her visage filled the door flung open during King Atten's speech, Ruby could do naught but gape. As with many others who filled the court, that day, she had not expected the presence of one of the more renowned Council Magi. Beside her, Princess Iyera Atten stiffened; color draining from her face.
"She's bleeding, Ruby," came the gentle whisper and a slight tug on her loose sleeve, "something is wrong." The Veil Knight, curious before, cursed silently at herself for allowing surprise to override reason. Of course something was wrong. The Magi of the Ascendant Council of Magi rarely left The Demense without proper reason, or dire news to deliver. All around the room came similar whispers, barely audible over the advance of eight Royal Guard. Ruby began to step forward, as well, but the Princess once again subtly tugged at her sleeve.
Stay was the unspoken command. One she would not deny. While her eyes were on Iyera, the room had fallen silent; tension becoming nearly palpable. Lyath stood, albeit favoring her right leg, with a hand clamped firmly over an area just beneath her breast. Blood poured between her gloved fingers and left crimson streaks on the tattered cloak she wore; dripping, slowly, onto the polished marble of the Great Keep's throne-room. Still, Ruby let her hand fall to the hilt of her sword.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Roared Kinnan Loroughe, captain of the Royal Guard, from behind the tip of a spear. The Ascendant Magi looked at them from beneath the ragged expanse of her hood, gray eyes boring into the assemblage of armor and blades with a clear dispassion. Her lips turned downward, and her free hand flickered forward. From each digit emerged a small orb of flame, spurring the Guards into action.
They were far too slow, however. Each conflagration expanded as it streaked forward, striking two of the Guard directly. Those men had no time to scream, engulfed and consumed as they were; but those nearby, those that suffered the concussive force of the flame's violent dispersal, they had time to wail at length. It lingered in Ruby's ears, and the stench washed over the crowd immediately.
The armored forms were cast aside with ease, those that survived, at least, the Ascendant Magi taking slow steps forward; her gaze darting around the room for potential obstacles. They seemed to linger, for a moment, near Ruby and Iyera. Cold dread washed through the Veil Knight, and despite her earlier inclination to move forward; she found herself rooted to the spot. Something in the smoky depths of the Flametongue's eyes bespoke a muted disdain for what she was doing. Still, whatever Ruby thought she saw in that brief moment mattered little.
The King had taken a step back, in the moment it had taken for chaos to erupt. His mouth quivered, and his hand shook as he raised it to the Magi. As he parted his lips, the Flametongue moved forward; propelled by gouts of flame that sprang from her heels. Sliding to a smooth stop before the King, a man who was easily a head taller than herself, she leaned forward and spoke.
Ruby did not catch what was said, given the emergence of more orbs of flame. These did not strike out at any armored forms, or anyone at all. They took up each direction around Lyath and then dispersed throughout the room in a mad dash. Some swirled around each other, entwined for a moment before reaching their place around the room. One hovered above Iyera; pulsating as it settled into place. Despite herself, Ruby averted her eyes, the intensity of the flame and its flaring entirely overbearing.
With the turn, she saw, barely, what was transpiring between King and the Magi. With a fluid motion the Flametongue snatched the necklace from around the King's neck. And, with a whisper, set him alight from within. The Veil Knight did not know the intricacies of magic, but the unnatural light that seemed to pour from the King's silent mouth and wide eyes seemed to bespeak immesurable suffering. His skin cracked and blackened, smoke rolling through the fissures, hair catching aflame; all this in the instant before he exploded.
Cooked bits of the Volanci King went sailing, while the rest had turned to a soot-stain on the kingdom's golden throne. Lyath and lifted her hand, laborious breathing and a steady stream of blood filling the silence where another might have given a speech. As she closed it, carnage enveloped the throne-room. Ruby was flung sideways, the bright and bleary world turning on its self as she tumbled through the air; striking hard against a pillar before sliding down gracelessly. Feeling left her limbs, but her eyes were still opened; and seeking the Princess.
No...no...no Came the echoing thought. Fear made it race and dance, twisting its self into a knot that would not leave her mind. Stand, Veil Knight, stand damn you!
Through the madness, however, she could see little but the silhouettes of noblemen and knights fleeing or cowering. Strangely, though, in the midst of it all she could still spy the Magi. Her slow trudge toward the door unmistakable...Ruby's budding hatred searing her form into the Veil Knight's mind. While she did not entirely recognize what had happened, the Flametongue had set the pulsating orbs to explode; another explosion created at her position. Right on top of Princess Iyera.
Iyera... Ruby struggled against numbness and moved her hands behind her, seeking awkward purchase against the pillar. With a groan, she pushed her back to it and used the strange position to rise with what leverage she could manage. Though her knees began buckling above a crouching position, she leaned heavily against the pillar to steady the shaking that coursed through her. With the view she had gained, Ruby should have been able to find Iyera among the crowd. Her eyes watered, as she stared on; greeted only by familiar faces twisted in horror, shards of glass and scorched piles, burned banners and streaks of soot left by the Flametongue.
There is no ash, where she stood...no black stain. Nor any marks at the epicenter, I need to stall my tears. Hope is not yet lost.
Ruby skirted the pillar uneasily, her legs begging clumsily for respite. As she managed it, Lyath fell. A thud echoed through the suddenly silent throne-room, the Magi spasming for a bare moment. Plumes of smoke drifted from her open mouth and the gash at her ribs, now revealed to be long and jagged. Ruby watched as the Flametongue's gray eyes lost what little luster they had possessed. The nobles seemed to understand as well. They were watching an assassin twitch out her last moments.
The Veil Knight straightened herself as best she could. Many were already fleeing the room, leaving a cluster of castle guard standing benumbed at the sight before them. Ruby understood the feeling that began to carve its nuance into their whitening visages. Shouts and murmurs mingled in full, and she heard many mixed messages; though they were only fleeting pieces she managed to collect.
Kinnan, calling out for what remains of his men. Lord Scorvese, lamenting his son. The guards, trying to ascertain what happened. More and more, though they became less and less. She felt sick, her head lolling for a moment. Her reflection in the floor stared back at her, contorting for a moment and growing closer and farther in disjointed waves.
A sigh heaved its self from her involuntarily, bated breath escaping in a moment of collapse. She slid down, her legs out before her. Disorientation had sunk its claws deep, in the scant moments since Volance suffered the slaying of its King.
"She's bleeding, Ruby," came the gentle whisper and a slight tug on her loose sleeve, "something is wrong." The Veil Knight, curious before, cursed silently at herself for allowing surprise to override reason. Of course something was wrong. The Magi of the Ascendant Council of Magi rarely left The Demense without proper reason, or dire news to deliver. All around the room came similar whispers, barely audible over the advance of eight Royal Guard. Ruby began to step forward, as well, but the Princess once again subtly tugged at her sleeve.
Stay was the unspoken command. One she would not deny. While her eyes were on Iyera, the room had fallen silent; tension becoming nearly palpable. Lyath stood, albeit favoring her right leg, with a hand clamped firmly over an area just beneath her breast. Blood poured between her gloved fingers and left crimson streaks on the tattered cloak she wore; dripping, slowly, onto the polished marble of the Great Keep's throne-room. Still, Ruby let her hand fall to the hilt of her sword.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Roared Kinnan Loroughe, captain of the Royal Guard, from behind the tip of a spear. The Ascendant Magi looked at them from beneath the ragged expanse of her hood, gray eyes boring into the assemblage of armor and blades with a clear dispassion. Her lips turned downward, and her free hand flickered forward. From each digit emerged a small orb of flame, spurring the Guards into action.
They were far too slow, however. Each conflagration expanded as it streaked forward, striking two of the Guard directly. Those men had no time to scream, engulfed and consumed as they were; but those nearby, those that suffered the concussive force of the flame's violent dispersal, they had time to wail at length. It lingered in Ruby's ears, and the stench washed over the crowd immediately.
The armored forms were cast aside with ease, those that survived, at least, the Ascendant Magi taking slow steps forward; her gaze darting around the room for potential obstacles. They seemed to linger, for a moment, near Ruby and Iyera. Cold dread washed through the Veil Knight, and despite her earlier inclination to move forward; she found herself rooted to the spot. Something in the smoky depths of the Flametongue's eyes bespoke a muted disdain for what she was doing. Still, whatever Ruby thought she saw in that brief moment mattered little.
The King had taken a step back, in the moment it had taken for chaos to erupt. His mouth quivered, and his hand shook as he raised it to the Magi. As he parted his lips, the Flametongue moved forward; propelled by gouts of flame that sprang from her heels. Sliding to a smooth stop before the King, a man who was easily a head taller than herself, she leaned forward and spoke.
Ruby did not catch what was said, given the emergence of more orbs of flame. These did not strike out at any armored forms, or anyone at all. They took up each direction around Lyath and then dispersed throughout the room in a mad dash. Some swirled around each other, entwined for a moment before reaching their place around the room. One hovered above Iyera; pulsating as it settled into place. Despite herself, Ruby averted her eyes, the intensity of the flame and its flaring entirely overbearing.
With the turn, she saw, barely, what was transpiring between King and the Magi. With a fluid motion the Flametongue snatched the necklace from around the King's neck. And, with a whisper, set him alight from within. The Veil Knight did not know the intricacies of magic, but the unnatural light that seemed to pour from the King's silent mouth and wide eyes seemed to bespeak immesurable suffering. His skin cracked and blackened, smoke rolling through the fissures, hair catching aflame; all this in the instant before he exploded.
Cooked bits of the Volanci King went sailing, while the rest had turned to a soot-stain on the kingdom's golden throne. Lyath and lifted her hand, laborious breathing and a steady stream of blood filling the silence where another might have given a speech. As she closed it, carnage enveloped the throne-room. Ruby was flung sideways, the bright and bleary world turning on its self as she tumbled through the air; striking hard against a pillar before sliding down gracelessly. Feeling left her limbs, but her eyes were still opened; and seeking the Princess.
No...no...no Came the echoing thought. Fear made it race and dance, twisting its self into a knot that would not leave her mind. Stand, Veil Knight, stand damn you!
Through the madness, however, she could see little but the silhouettes of noblemen and knights fleeing or cowering. Strangely, though, in the midst of it all she could still spy the Magi. Her slow trudge toward the door unmistakable...Ruby's budding hatred searing her form into the Veil Knight's mind. While she did not entirely recognize what had happened, the Flametongue had set the pulsating orbs to explode; another explosion created at her position. Right on top of Princess Iyera.
Iyera... Ruby struggled against numbness and moved her hands behind her, seeking awkward purchase against the pillar. With a groan, she pushed her back to it and used the strange position to rise with what leverage she could manage. Though her knees began buckling above a crouching position, she leaned heavily against the pillar to steady the shaking that coursed through her. With the view she had gained, Ruby should have been able to find Iyera among the crowd. Her eyes watered, as she stared on; greeted only by familiar faces twisted in horror, shards of glass and scorched piles, burned banners and streaks of soot left by the Flametongue.
There is no ash, where she stood...no black stain. Nor any marks at the epicenter, I need to stall my tears. Hope is not yet lost.
Ruby skirted the pillar uneasily, her legs begging clumsily for respite. As she managed it, Lyath fell. A thud echoed through the suddenly silent throne-room, the Magi spasming for a bare moment. Plumes of smoke drifted from her open mouth and the gash at her ribs, now revealed to be long and jagged. Ruby watched as the Flametongue's gray eyes lost what little luster they had possessed. The nobles seemed to understand as well. They were watching an assassin twitch out her last moments.
The Veil Knight straightened herself as best she could. Many were already fleeing the room, leaving a cluster of castle guard standing benumbed at the sight before them. Ruby understood the feeling that began to carve its nuance into their whitening visages. Shouts and murmurs mingled in full, and she heard many mixed messages; though they were only fleeting pieces she managed to collect.
Kinnan, calling out for what remains of his men. Lord Scorvese, lamenting his son. The guards, trying to ascertain what happened. More and more, though they became less and less. She felt sick, her head lolling for a moment. Her reflection in the floor stared back at her, contorting for a moment and growing closer and farther in disjointed waves.
A sigh heaved its self from her involuntarily, bated breath escaping in a moment of collapse. She slid down, her legs out before her. Disorientation had sunk its claws deep, in the scant moments since Volance suffered the slaying of its King.
The Pseudo-God (seems to fit better than Demi-God, given that it is not of human ilk) Baal Teslam, once sealed away by the Council of Magi, has broken free of his imprisonment through unknown means. While this is a relatively unknown event, at the start of our story, it will come to be rather important to the fate of Essia (the world).
Elsewhere, though, a king (King Atten, of Volance) is slain by a member of the Council of Magi; in full view of the court. Lyath the Flametongue was killed, but the king's amulet and the princess have gone missing.
In the small hamlet of Oakheim, aspirant Golem-Crafters discover a strange bundle hidden in the trunk of a tree; due to a mishap with their crafting. Inside the Rune-Bound bundle there is a mechanical girl with her forehead open, and clutched in her hand a small red stone. During their adventures, a lone girl traveling to Volance discovers a book containing lost Void Magic; opening doors long thought shut to all but the Council.
Elsewhere, though, a king (King Atten, of Volance) is slain by a member of the Council of Magi; in full view of the court. Lyath the Flametongue was killed, but the king's amulet and the princess have gone missing.
In the small hamlet of Oakheim, aspirant Golem-Crafters discover a strange bundle hidden in the trunk of a tree; due to a mishap with their crafting. Inside the Rune-Bound bundle there is a mechanical girl with her forehead open, and clutched in her hand a small red stone. During their adventures, a lone girl traveling to Volance discovers a book containing lost Void Magic; opening doors long thought shut to all but the Council.
Itos
A mercurial ophidian deity with influence over the spheres of fire and passion. Itos appears when invoked by Ascendancy Magi that it deems of sufficient worth. The fiery serpent is known for its pride and arrogance, but as well for the skill of its Servient Magi. Those connected to Itos are known as Flametongue and are often imbued with tremendous destructive capabilities. What gifts Itos bestows often depend on the perceived worth of his Magi; they usually involve conflagrations, explosions or infernos.
Izia
Volatile in her gentle nature, the ever placid, ever rapid Izia appears in many forms. Often curious of the affairs of mortals, Izia is known to hold dominion over secrets and the aquatic elemental sphere. Most Magi in her sway are known as Scryer. Sacrifices made to her are often simple and allow the Servient Scryer a unique gift, as well as allowing for control of Izia's element. These gifts are often in the ways of mending/curing, divining the future or scrying distant places.
Ranth
Silent bones of the Earth, Ranth does not appear when invoked; but is believed to listen to any invocation. The sacrifices required to appease Ranth are often complex, requiring somatic components and mixing herbs and roots from the earth; but are enduring in their effects. Ranth is known to impart strength to his Nomad Magi through the mixtures and salves produced through these rituals; though control of flora and terra comes naturally to them. There are rumors that Ranth has appeared, as a blind Nomad Magi, in the southlands of Essia, seeking to cure a plague there.
Taifia
Gentle in her aimless ambling, tempestuous in her ceasless racing; Taifia is much the sister-soul of older Izia. The two are known to be of similar temperment and connected in elemental parallels, though Taifia is known to take only one form when invoked; a maiden near-translucent wreathed in gray-blue, cowled and of bright eyes. She is known to shift humors in an instant; changing from giddy to sorrowful or wrathful with little cause. Her Magi are known to be Striders, which bear a close kinship with the Nomad Magi; due to their tendencies to roam Essia. The power she imparts is to give her Striders freedom; allowing them to run on the wind, conjure twisters or elevate themselves/others.
Eldra
{Will flesh out later. All about some indifferent justice, but with a hatred for those with wicked intent. Magi are referred to as Lambent.}
Viaak
{Will flesh out later. Basic idea is it is a creature of indulgence, prone to inciting chaos to fulfill its own desires. Mastery over the Umbral elemental sphere allows for control of shadows, imparting of nightmares, curses. Viaak is interested in exchanges. The sacrifices to it vary, depending on the strength of its selected Magi. Servient Magi are known as Shadeweaver.}
A mercurial ophidian deity with influence over the spheres of fire and passion. Itos appears when invoked by Ascendancy Magi that it deems of sufficient worth. The fiery serpent is known for its pride and arrogance, but as well for the skill of its Servient Magi. Those connected to Itos are known as Flametongue and are often imbued with tremendous destructive capabilities. What gifts Itos bestows often depend on the perceived worth of his Magi; they usually involve conflagrations, explosions or infernos.
Izia
Volatile in her gentle nature, the ever placid, ever rapid Izia appears in many forms. Often curious of the affairs of mortals, Izia is known to hold dominion over secrets and the aquatic elemental sphere. Most Magi in her sway are known as Scryer. Sacrifices made to her are often simple and allow the Servient Scryer a unique gift, as well as allowing for control of Izia's element. These gifts are often in the ways of mending/curing, divining the future or scrying distant places.
Ranth
Silent bones of the Earth, Ranth does not appear when invoked; but is believed to listen to any invocation. The sacrifices required to appease Ranth are often complex, requiring somatic components and mixing herbs and roots from the earth; but are enduring in their effects. Ranth is known to impart strength to his Nomad Magi through the mixtures and salves produced through these rituals; though control of flora and terra comes naturally to them. There are rumors that Ranth has appeared, as a blind Nomad Magi, in the southlands of Essia, seeking to cure a plague there.
Taifia
Gentle in her aimless ambling, tempestuous in her ceasless racing; Taifia is much the sister-soul of older Izia. The two are known to be of similar temperment and connected in elemental parallels, though Taifia is known to take only one form when invoked; a maiden near-translucent wreathed in gray-blue, cowled and of bright eyes. She is known to shift humors in an instant; changing from giddy to sorrowful or wrathful with little cause. Her Magi are known to be Striders, which bear a close kinship with the Nomad Magi; due to their tendencies to roam Essia. The power she imparts is to give her Striders freedom; allowing them to run on the wind, conjure twisters or elevate themselves/others.
Eldra
{Will flesh out later. All about some indifferent justice, but with a hatred for those with wicked intent. Magi are referred to as Lambent.}
Viaak
{Will flesh out later. Basic idea is it is a creature of indulgence, prone to inciting chaos to fulfill its own desires. Mastery over the Umbral elemental sphere allows for control of shadows, imparting of nightmares, curses. Viaak is interested in exchanges. The sacrifices to it vary, depending on the strength of its selected Magi. Servient Magi are known as Shadeweaver.}
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History (Optional):
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This is the OOC section for Free Saga: What Once Was a 1x1 RP for myself and @jdh97. We'll be posting some chatter, here, as well as compiling pertinent information as it arises.
