A First Mistake

Where the Rodera, Orcs, Goblins and Avians once called home

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A First Mistake

Postby Dellam » Fri Oct 19, 2012 5:16 pm

What had gone wrong?

A fine question, especially given the circumstances. Blood trickled into the mask of the fallen killer from a wracking cough, the sensation of pain and fluids filling his innards in a way it shouldn't prevalent. He was dieing, this he knew for fact but it should not have been this way. Surely he could not be abandoned so? Even as the thoughts crossed his mind he knew how expendable he was, how they all had been. It was he however that had been left behind, not one of the others. He supposed that it was a testament to the glory of 'He who waited in Shadow'...but before the light went out in his eyes and his body slumped he had a flicker of doubt.

They had come in the darkness, working form shadow to shadow under spells of concealment to the home of this Roderra on their floating land with the purpose of stealing off more...candidates. Such had been carefully selected, targeted so to speak and thus five of the finest had gone forth. He had not known a sixth shadowed them nor what the real purpose of this was. All he had known was the break-in to a space that had more bodies then initial scouting suggested their should have been. There had been crying out quickly muffled, the flash of blades, magic...and a sharp pain in his lower back. He'd never expected that it should come from one of his own but he'd seen her as he slumped, heard her apologize that this was the way things must be. She hadn't meant it but his kind rarely ever did. In the end they'd taken 4 prisoners and left another 3 dead on the floor, split and broken. It was ghastly but that was they way it was supposed to be, the way it always had been.

At last the hooded figure was dead and when later other Roderra would come looking he would be found...and it wouldn't take much examination to remove the hood to find an elf with skin the colour of deep grey, eyes blank in his crossing to the Hope Wastes with a single puncture through his back leading to a moderately slow bleeding death. For all intents and purposes it seemed he had been killed in the struggle of events here what with all the blood and such...but who beyond the body could know for certain.
Player of;
Vynrael, the Hound of Asternia
Jaguar, High priest of the Party
Ekrit, Nomad Magic Weapon maker of Yashmanar
Thromlui, Psychomancer, Nightmare made manifest

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Peter Levy
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Joined: Thu Oct 08, 2009 5:52 pm

Re: A First Mistake

Postby Peter Levy » Mon Oct 29, 2012 4:05 pm

**It had been a period of astounding peace. Farrek had always known he had to leave the Nomads again, and he put it off and off and off. Now that they had their wings, they could travel wherever the winds and their wills would lead them. But his people were calling. He had said his goodbyes once more, squeezed the captain tight, and flew away.**

Master Farrek! You've returned!
Apparently so.
I'm afraid something awful may have happened...
Good good. What is it this time? I hope nothing's been annihilated.
Well, that's a possibility. We've found three dead.
Ok. When, where, how and so on?
A few days. They appear to have been jumped by someone.
Do we know who?
Sort of.
How did I know you'd give such an ambiguous answer... Who sort of is it?
An elf.
A... shadow elf I think.
I see. How do we know this?
We found his body, sir. One of the victims evidently landed a pretty powerful blow on him, he bled to death we think.
The ritual is still holding, right? The Zeppelin isn't falling?
Couldn't say. All seems fine.
Ok. Take a register. Find out exactly who they were, and so on.
Already done, sir.
Their relatives know? Funeral rights prepared?
And carried out.
Right then, we can get on with tracking down this Elf's master.
Master, sir?
I assume he's something of a minion. Otherwise he'd have made it away.
There's another problem.
Of course there is...
There's four others missing. Four names unaccounted for. Their tethers to the flight ritual have been cut.
Very interesting. Have we scoured the island thoroughly? If not do, if so, look again. There'll be clues as to what's happened. Get the trackers out into the woods, have the reservoir checked for poison, get the mages to feel for traces of magic, et cetera. I shall make a brief visit to Coshwood Isle. If this was carried out by an Elf, I'd like to see what the Elves know. And I left a rather useful tool with the Font...
Very good, sir.

**Farrek clambered up the tree to his chamber. There was a letter from Lorax on the desk, something about taking control of something or other. For now there was more pressing concern. The Coshwood Isle would be shielded from teleporting in. It would be dangerous to attempt it. Perhaps a projection could reach there? It would be safer if there were contingencies against 'non-elves'. It is highly unlikely that Erathil, or even D'Arvan would have singled out Farrek as an exception. No, Projection would be a safer thing to test. Farrek incanted for a while, and closed his eyes. He sat still as lists, papers, reports were brought to him.**

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Peter Levy
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Joined: Thu Oct 08, 2009 5:52 pm

The Gate of I'Meles

Postby Peter Levy » Sat Apr 20, 2013 6:58 pm

**The portal-arch had been dormant for some time. Perhaps the shadow elves were plotting, perhaps they were licking their wounds, perhaps they had fingers in other pies. Each morning, the mages of the Rodera placed wardings over the threshold: to ensnare and trap anything that passed through it. But today, they had been told not to. Today the people watched as Farrek approached, holding a book out in his bandaged left hand.**

Today we cut this portal off from Shadow. Today we restore balance to this focus. Today we claim control of its power.

**He stands in front of the arch, focusing his energy, gathering magic to him.**

I stand before an artefact of great and ancient power. A gateway to places beyond our borders; to places beyond our world. In times gone by these gates were used to travel between lands. They were balanced. They were precise. They were safe. This is no longer the case. These gates have been corrupted, they are tainted, they are broken. The children of Shadow have claimed them for themselves, to the detriment of all. We live in a world where all should stand together, but it seems the peoples of Velmaneth are no longer willing. In that spirit, I claim this Gate for the Rodera
((Open Ritual Circle: 180, light/meta))

This portal is broken. Its shadow outstretches its footing. Its purpose is warped. Its power disintegrated.
By my will, and by the power of Meta magic, I drive out the protections the Shadow Elves have placed upon it. Let this circle dispel them!
By my will, and by the power of Light magic, I drive out the shadows that loom over this gate. Let this circle shine a Ray of Sun upon it, to scorch away the darkness!
By my will, and by the power of Light magic, I drive out the shadows that twist and corrupt this portal's aim. Let this circle bring Freedom from Domination to it!
By my will, and by the power of Light magic, I drive out the shadows that turned this artefact's power to dust. Let this circle Reintegrate this Gate!

**The Portal shimmers slightly as something, dark and other-worldly reels from the intrusion of Farrek's light. The Rodera kneels, opening his book. He lifts from the pages four small goblets, a lighted candle, a square of black leather and a piece of parchment. He stands, approaching the Gate. The air under the arch is almost solid. He traces a rune with his finger: two vertical lines, joined across the top half with an X.**

I inscribe upon this portal the Unnamed Rune; the rune of Magic. Magic flows to us from the Jewel, we shape it with Essence, and it shapes the world. In the beginning, this world was the Jewel, and the Jewel was this world. So now, this portal shall begin again as an object of purest magic.
So as the Jewel was coated in stone and rock, this portal must be charged with Earth. Upon this arch is inscribed the Rune of Ingwaz, which I anoint now with the earth in this first cup. Let the power of Gerethenax, of the earth we walk on flow into this portal.
In balance to this, our world is shrouded in air, cloud and lightning, so must this Gate be charged with Air. Upon this arch is inscribed the Rune of Halgaz, which I anoint now with my breath. Let the power or Eremethal, of the air flow into this portal.
This world is more than sky and stone. Our world is one of great oceans, so must this portal be charged with Water. Upon this arch is inscribed the Rune of Laguz, which I anoint now with the water in this cup. Let the power of Lavelas, of the waters flow into this portal.
Fire ravages our world as water soothes it, so must this Gate be charged with Fire. Upon this arch is inscribed the Rune of Thurisaz, which I anoint now with the flame of this candle. Let the power of Quayle, of fire flow into this portal.

The dance of the Sun and Moons brings dawn and dusk, day and night, light and shadow. For every truth concealed, there is a truth revealed. For every thought of dominion, there is a thought of freedom.
Upon this arch is inscribed the Rune of Perthro, which I anoint now with this shroud. Let the power of Larwayella, the power of shadow flow into this portal.
Upon this arch is inscribed the Rune of Dagaz, which I anoint now with a Flash of light. Let the power of Asternia, the power of light flow into this portal.

With our world balanced by these forces, another power can manifest. Life. As we look around this small piece of floating Velmaneth, we see life. In the creche, new life. In the field and the town, a life well lived. In this circle, I hope, a life well served. Life will go on; life will prevail. But individual lives do not. The balance of this wonderful gift of life is Death. Now more than ever, death stalks our world. For every soul now living, there are many who live no more, and many others who never have. All living things come to an end. Life is wondrous, beautiful, but brief. Death is dark, horrifying, and eternal.
Upon this arch is inscribed the Rune of Berkano, which I anoint now with my blood from this cup. This is the blood of one who has known life. Let the power of Lenamo, the power of life flow into this portal.
Upon this arch is inscribed the Rune of Isa, which I anoint now with my blood from this cup. This is the blood of one who has known death. Let the power of Firin, the power of death flow into this portal.

The final magic to be placed into this Gate is Metamagic. This is the magic that binds the elements together; the magic that maintains their balance. It is this power we call upon to transport ourselves across our world. Teleportation, the art of traversing space without spending time, is the art of the Meta-mage. This is the gift this Gate provides.
Upon this parchment I have drawn a map. This is Velmaneth as we know it today. It is inscribed with the Runes of the Peoples, the Runes of the Nations, and with the Rune of the Undiscovered. Upon the back of this map, I have inscribed a scroll. This scroll, of called upon with cast a Mass Teleportation, transporting up to five willing travellers to any location specified.
Atop this arch is inscribed the Rune of Gebo. Let the words, the ink, the power of this scroll, the power of Eremine, the balanced power of Metamagic flow into this portal.
Further, I inscribe onto this portal the Rune of Ansuz. Let the image, the ink, the power of this map, the power of Yashmanar, the knowledge of our world flow into this portal.

**The portal flickers, its hue changing as each element is invoked. As the final two anointings are performed, it begins to produce a deep hum as the portal awakens. Farrek produces a small wooden disc from his pocket. He smears the soft wax from the candle onto one side of it, and presses it onto the top of the arch. On it is a rune, resembling a capital R**

A Gate such as this is a powerful tool. We must ensure that it does not fall into the wrong hands. I place upon it the Rune of Raidho, symbol of the Rodera. By my will, by the will of my people, and by my very Soul I bind this Gate to the Rodera.
Let none but the Rodera cross this threshold.
By my power, the powers of magic, the power of these runes here inscribed, and by the power of the Roderan people. I name this portal the Gate of I'Meles.

**Part of Farrek's soul enters the wooden rune, and the wax binding it to the stone hardens, becoming one with the archway. He backs away from the portal, bowing slightly, and bids the circle closed.**

An escape route, if nothing more...

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