From: Naron (naron_at_bigpond.net.au)
Date: Fri Sep 19 2003 - 10:44:07 BST
OOC: as long as he doesn't think it would alarm that guards (i.e. if he
can get away with it :-) he will cast Command Nightflyer, and try and
build up a picture of the area, and how Mearath is being held.
The guards appear to become very agitated at your incantation and you stopfor fear of rough treatment.
Pean nods to the guard;
"This Corinthian - being new to the town, I am unaware of him. A Noble
or Adept of note?"
He is a socialite who came to Travar about five or six years ago. The guard does not know his business other than he is seen at most Foundings and social gatherings in very good company.
Pean's eyes narrow as he sees his precious Grimoire laid out. He
reminds himself to make its protections more.. effective in future. If
someone has opened it, or worse, taken advantage of it to weave threads
against him.. He focuses the sight granted to him by his Discipline on
his most precious possession, checking for other threads, or latent
magics. he is by no means the most accomplished spellcaster, and if he
could think of this..
Once he is sure no one has tempered with it, he stands for a moment,
making a visual check of his belongings, then picks up his grimoire,
leafs through some pages (purely for show, but likely only Temorya
would know that for sure..:-), picks one, then quietly intones a spell.
As the spell completes (He'll take his time, recasting if needed,
trying to make it look as if its all part of the spell), the air in the
room coalesces into a man shaped figure, then darkens, until it appears
as a man of Pean's height and build, wrapped around in a long cloak,
but slightly wispy at the edges.
"Carefully gather my belongings, pack them neatly, and bring them to me"
He commands, in a quiet but authoritative voice.
The apparition neatly re-packs all of Pean's belongings, and returns to
him, bearing a full pack and his staff. Pean stows his grimoire safely
away in the pack, and stows several items from the pack in the pockets
of his robe. He makes a small bow to the the figure;
"Thank you, you may return now, whence you came"
at this, the figure instantly loses cohesion, and starts to drift apart
into mist, dissipating quickly into the morning air.
Pean is left standing, his staff in the crook of his elbow, palms
facing one another, deep in concentration. A minute, or two passes,
before he chants again softly, and passes his hands over his robes and
bag.
(OOC: re-attune a matrix for Pocket Guardian, please, and cast it on
the pocket containing his money pouch and potion, then return the
matrix to its original contents)
Apparently satisfied, he turns to his companions;
"well, are we ready? Our hosts have given us leave to depart, it seems"
The merchant in Pean craves to explore the markets, to see what can be
bought from faraway lands. His Discipline calls to him, telling him of
the items he might find, to aid his Magic. His duty to his friends
overcomes this, but he makes a promise to himself to return, and spend
a day browsing at leisure. Noticing his companions stares, he moves
next to the less travelled ones from Bush Namur, and in a low voice,
points out the people and customs he has encountered in his travels.
It is a rare expansive moment for the elf, and for a moment, his fellow
city dwellers see his father in him, expounding on the history of an
item to an interested passer by.
Pean does make note of any shops or stalls selling anything magical, or
related.
Pean simply fixes his gaze upon the man, making eye contact, and
letting all the assumptions, misconceptions, and practicies of
nethermancy seep into his eyes.
OOC: frighten, please :-)
"You know nothing of what you speak. Leave us"
This works to great effect, you hear the tremor in the innkeeps voice as he flees with great haste from Peans sight
As night falls, Pean summons the bats and owns of the city, attempting
to locate Mearath again, and check on his health. He is aware that
those more practiced in his craft can uses these creatures to convey
messages, but he has not that art..yet. When he first learned his Art,
the wonder and power nearly overwhelmed him. Now, while the beauty of
the spirit world still awes him, he finds himself chafing at not being
able to replicate the feats of his teacher, or others of his Discipline
he has read about. There is so much to learn, and yet so much to do..
Reassured (hopefully) that Mearath is well, at least for now, he
conducts his karma ritual, the bitter tea soothing and relaxing, and
the quiet reflections of his spirit double on the differences between
this world and the next serving to center him, and remind him of the
happy years of his apprenticeship.
The creature finds the guardhouse where you were all kept though can find no sign of Maerath at any time.
Pean exchanges glances with his companions, remarking wryly;
"This should be interesting. Anyone else kill anyone they don't
remember? Perhaps Mearath is heir to a great fortune, and forgot that,
too!"
OOC: If an attractive girl in goth makeup appears, Pean is SO out of
there...:-)
"Greetings, and our thanks for your hospitality. You must forgive my
rudeness, for I am new to the area, but I am unaware - is Corinthian
your rank, or title? I do not wish to give offense, especially when we
have been so well received"
OOC: astral sight please - its worth a try! :-)
"I am simply known as The Corinthian. That is all" Your astral sight fails to find the pattern of the figure though you do feel ill at the negative emotion that is pervading the arena at this point in time from the spectators, and quickly withdraw from astral.
"However this ends, it does not speak well for the people of Travar, I
feel"
murmurs Pean to whoever is closest.
"The fools" murmurs Pean. "Appearance and identity are not one and the
same - how can they be so blind!"
"Aye? But his innocence may avail him naught, with this crowd. I fear
for justice, today."
"You're faith in the passions, is rewarded, it seems, Lenora! I will
make penance at the next temple of Mynbruje we come across!
And you, my lord, know much more than you are letting on.
Come my friends, we must do what we can. Let us provide safe passage
for Mearath, if we are able. Foruntatly, I have some spells that may
be of assistance"
He chants softly, and again, the mist shrouded form coalesces next to
him (hopefully :-).
"Walk beside me, and prevent any from touching me"
he says to the spirit, before walking purposefully forward towards
Mearath. Anyone who obstructs him, or attempts to attack him he will
either attempt to Frighten away, or cast Pain on, as appropriate. He
will attempt to keep up with, but not in front of, Garrot, using his
spells and talents as needed to aid the Obsidiman's passage, while not
neglecting his own defence.
>
> <Your moves one and all. Lets just say things are VOLATILE at the
> moment.
OOC: you think? ;-)
> Apologies for the long post.....>
Heh. likewise. I got caught up..:-)
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