AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic

At late-afternoon, all those across the isle of Amia who were outside would have been able to hear a faint 'pop!' noise, seeming to emanate and quickly fade. Moments afterwards, all open flames would have momentarily sparked with blue light before returning to normal. Arcane and Divine spellcasters, as well as planar-blooded individuals would have experienced a short vision.....

*A vibrant image flashes across your mind....A dank patch of coastline, shrouded in mist suddenly bursts into light, which spreads across the ground before fading away. Above a pool of water at the grounds center, seven points of blue fire slowly turn in the air, beckoning....*

Over the course of the afternoon, the noises would have been heard another few times, though as evening approached, they ceased entirely. For those who didn't investigate, nothing else out of the norm happened that day. For those who did, a number of interesting discoveries were made. As for a certain six individuals....they found themselves in a somewhat different predicament.

Six burn pure, but of the Seventh there is no sign...

*A familiar black and red robed man sits at a table, politely conversing with a young woman, yet his mind strays to thoughts upon the strange occurrence. For he had seen nothing like it nor read upon anything even remotely similar.*

Within a room in Kohlingen, Gwrtheryn sat and pondered on the day's events. It had certainly been strange, and he wasn't entirely sure whether it was for better or worse! Piece by piece, he removed his armor. The whole night had been spent in front of a mirror, in complete darkness, so that when he opened his mouth he would catch a tiny glimmer of light. He found it absolutely puzzling. In one sense he had a deep seated feeling that everything would turn out OK in the end. However, Gwrtheryn was left with a burning curiosity and many questions that he would need answered.

"At least I have my voice back." he said to himself in the darkness, smiling at the sound of it. It was certainly refreshing to hear!

In Kohlingen as well, Ryrik is kept from slumber, finally deciding to abandon his determination to remain where the seven fires burned. He sits up in bed, beside his lover, contemplating, mulling things over in his mind. Being no spell-caster or of Planar blood, he has no answers at all, and only an ever growing string of questions. In the back of his mouth, a pure blue fire burns, inducing no pain, and producing no heat. And there are NO answers. Just questions.

Answers seem to elude everyone equally. Yet matters of state do not pause for mysteries, and Ulrik can be seen going about his business in the city of Kohlingen. Between various meetings, however, he does seem to take a moment's pause to contemplate. Perhaps upon the rather mysterious events surrounding visions and seven flames.

Emilie roams about the isle in between her own duties, lost in thought. She has tried to puzzle through it on her own, as well as enlisting the aid of her resources.

She sighs and tries in vain to see a pattern which doesn't seem to exist, her mind wandering to the six affected, looking for any similarities or perhaps things that make them solely unique. Her efforts are wasted as hours pass and she has no answers.

"It seems like I am going to be on my own for this one" She thinks to herself bitterly, "It does not help that it feels as though I am working with only half of a puzzle... I suppose the other pieces will have to turn up eventually... I hope..."

"I doubt those bloody mages could have helped me anyways; likely just make it worse!" Freya muttered to herself as she traversed the mountain pass in the Skull Crags. She had not sought the mages' council the previous night, but now she was having a hard time convincing herself she didn't make a mistake. She had hoped the blue flame would die out on its own over the course of the night, but one peek in the looking glass this morning had only worsened her fears.

"I swear, if I find the witch that did this..."

She continued up the path, making her way to the little Uthgardt settlement. She did not know what she would do if their shaman could not help her.

Back in Tarkuul, among the dusty, old tomes, the High Arcanist cocked his head to the side, as he always
does when something intriguing happens. Immediately upon the curious vision, he scribbled down a few
words in his grimoire, drawing an image of the premonition for later use. But as it is, apparently he was
too busy to pay attention to it at that very moment.

In her room at the Hin Inn, Krissy sat on her bed, late into the night. She rubbed her throat gently, furrowing her brow in thought. She hopped off the bed to pace back in forth in the room, murmuring to herself and stopping every once in a while to open her mouth in the mirror to see if this odd blue flame remained, only to find it still there. Finally, accepting the situation as is, she'd just climb back into bed, wiggling her toes and dozing off to sleep. She figured it pointless to worry about, but worth learning about.

A certain Drow wizardess stands off to the side of the fire in the Shrine. Once known as Ul'faeril, once known as Headmistress, now just known as Liress once more, she stares into the distance, before moving to seek out the one person she can reach who may understand.

"Tazlin....?"

The half-devil paused her task for a brief moment when that vision occupied her mind. As it ended, the wizardess frowned and postponed her plans for the time beeing, to instead return to her home. Once there, she consulted several of her books, which occupied her for quite a while. Every now and then having a break to instead ponder over what was read and what she saw.

Seeming to find a restful sleep for the most part in his past days, the Gnomish Magician one day rather suddenly starts, awakening and blinking with confusion.

~What in Gond's name.... hrm.. I had best advise Mister Ulrik of this.. ~

Last edited by gravitas on Sat, Dec 08 2012, 19:49 PM, edited 1 time in total.

Shifting uncomfortably on silken pillows the handsome figure sighs as he closes his eyes and rubs his temples, a notebook in his hand with quickly jotted notes and a sketch drawn of the blue flame from the two subjects he was able to personally examine. He opened his eyes once more and puffed upon the hookah hose before him, looking to the fire in thought as the memory of the vision returned to him, just as perplexing as ever.

"I guess these are next..." lilted a softly harmonic voice as his many fingers rapt on top of the small pile of books next to him, anything related to a certain arcane anomaly from years a go that he could find in Cordor's and Tarkuul's libraries, when silver and blue fire was born among a select few of the Magic Goddess's chosen.

"Surely just a fanciful myth." He breathed out the purple gray smoke, filling the room with the smell of grape as his bare feet sprawled out across the Calishite carpet.

Aside from his strange dream, Ryrik seems to have mostly forgotten the flame that burns cold in his mouth. Except when someone mentions it. Then he gets a bit nervous, not knowing how people will react.

All across the isle of Amia, the sky would have been lit up momentarily, as if a sheet of blue fire had spread across it for the briefest moment. Aside from this visual display, the vast majority of people would find all unchanged. However, a certain seven individuals find that something present before is no longer there...

Seeming to eventually notice this, the Gnomish magician would scratch his head thoughtfully, sighing a ltitle and closing his eyes, he would continue his work in Barak Runedar.

As the tendril of flame touches the edge of his aura, Mathus feels an immense presence at the edge of his mind. It entirely encompasses him, as if he were a tiny glass bubble floating in an ocean...

Scant hours after the brilliant flash, one tired and slight figure hauls into his office, and begins penning a detailed report...

Leagues away from Amia now, Gwrtheryn sat within a tavern bedroom. He felt that twang of loneliness and homesickness, and started to wonder what Izariel and Shana might be up to. It was only later that he realised the flame was gone, and met the thought with mixed feelings of relief, but also disappointment.

Emilie spent most of her hours during and after the flash in troubled sleep, attempting to recover from the havoc that her body underwent. When she awoke, she still rubbed the hollow of her throat. She knew the flame was long gone... but it seemed to be a habit she could no longer help as she looked out the windows of the high tower, saddened and lost in her thoughts.

Over a tenday later, the pale, thin ascetic - who had done quite well distracting himself with his new apprentice - still found moments of quiet that were far from peaceful. Meditation became a battle of wills between a part of himself that had accepted the seemingly benevolent, nigh-omnipotent presences within...

...and the part of him that was still screaming as it stole glimpses across his mind, trying to imagine the true form of the inscrutable, unnameable horrors had chosen to share his body with him.

People still passed him by - still ignored him - like always... oblivious to what now lay within, wrapping about his mind like a cocoon, waiting for him to speak.

The strands of fate and relation with others were gradually tying off and lacing neatly between the layers of his consciousness. Doors closed in his mind's eye and muffled the sounds behind them until they were mostly ignored. He had been successfully forgotten, and now read his own fortune by the dwindling twilight of his own curiosity rather than the blazing impact of others'.

He sat ignored in plain sight, or walked past the unwitting masses who were largely unaware of his shared form - unable to see beyond the unassuming, homely, pale shell.

Carefully, and with no small amount of trepidation, the ascetic began to reach out for the consciousness once more, straining until his fingertips could enter the flames.

"Alright. I'm ready to speak with you again..."

Mathus wrote:

- A circular wooden platform, roughly eight feet in diameter
- Seven flat hoops constructed of ________________, roughly two feet in diameter
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the elemental plane of fire
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the elemental plane of earth
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the elemental plane of air
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the elemental plane of water
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the negative energy plane
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the positive energy plane
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the shadow or ethereal planes
- A sharpened piece of stone, or a metal knife made from a material found on the Prime
- An eye of a creature from the Far Realm
- A master of the New Moon
- An arcanist capable of opening seven Gates without resting between them

Mathus wrote:

- A circular wooden platform, roughly eight feet in diameter
- Seven flat hoops constructed of ________________, roughly two feet in diameter
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the elemental plane of fire
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the elemental plane of earth
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the elemental plane of air
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the elemental plane of water
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the negative energy plane
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the positive energy plane
- A piece of a creature, or a portion of an inorganic material, originating from the shadow or ethereal planes
- A sharpened piece of stone, or a metal knife made from a material found on the Prime
- An eye of a creature from the Far Realm
- A master of the New Moon
- An arcanist capable of opening seven Gates without resting between them

The ascetic then went back to bed, waiting patiently for the Sending of an old friend.

A sheet of parchment was torn in half. An apology sworn, and then a fitful sleep taken.

Goodbye.

"Oh, there was a man asking after you... He saw the sign for your play."

"Oh? Who was it?"

"He didn't leave a name.. He had silver eyes... veins showing under his skin... acted strangely."

Emilie curses under her breath, "The being V told me about, damn it all."

"Is something wrong?"

With trembling hands she excuses herself hastily. She leaves the tavern, and then the city, going to the most remote place she can think of. She lays down on the grass, her worried eyes looking skyward. Her mind races through the possibilities, most of them unpleasant if not bone-chillingly terrifying.

"What does this mean, what does he want?"

Immaculate Fire

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