[Dragon's Breath Forest, A Dark Clearing]
A ring of dark walnut trees stands in ancient vigil over this small clearing, its austere presence contributing to the disquieting silence that seems palpable in this place. The surrounding shadows bring an odd sense of comfort, as every glimmer of light reflected by a polished stone at the locus of the ring breeds the image of a predator lying in wait.
An emaciated looking gnome sits crosslegged on the far side of the clearing a square bottle of kirmhiro rum grasped in his leathery palm, he mutters cryptically to himself as he runs his calloused thumb up and down the blade of a knife. Something attracts his attention in the shadows on the opposite side of the clearing. "Khiol, you worthless pup I told you to be back here an anlas ago." the gnome spit out with more than a glint of malicious intent glowing in his blood hued eyes. "You have the required items correct my apprentice?"
Khiol stepped into plain view of the gnome with a heavy satchel slung over his shoulder, the faint moonlight falling across his silver Rakash coat. "You know how hard it is for me to collect things like this in your ridicoulous timeframes!" he nearly growled at the gnome, then stopped suddenly dead in his tracks and stiffind up like a wooden plank, liquid shadow floats in smoke like wisps from the gnomes eyes. Khiol gasps and nearly collapses panting heavily and in a barely audible strangled tone says, "Yes Lord, I have the aquired the heartsblood of the elven subjects as you requested.". The rakash removes the heavy satchel and places ten jars of thick sanguine liquid directly in front of the sitting gnomish lord.
"Now pup, I need those ashes I had you collect from the bones we burned." Khiol reaches into the satchels front pocket and pulls forth a plain nondescript leather pouch "Right here, sir" he states flatly as he hands the pouch over. The gnome fishes a portion of the black powder from the pouch and draws a thin line across his palm mixing blood and ash upon the wickedly sharpened blade, he continues the preparation by drawing a sigil with the foul mix into the stopper of the first jar. The liquid inside slowly fades in color to a ruddy violet hue before small amounts of scarlet steam issue from the stoppered rim of the jar.
"Now Khiol, repeat the process on the remaining jars just as I showed you. Exactly as I showed you." spiting the last words and he withdraws a book and settles to pore over the many symbols scribed therein, the gnome leans back against a nearby tree. Khiol busies himself immediately with the work at hand.
As Khiol finished scribing the last jar, a thick enveloping pall of grey mists begins to flow into the ill-lit clearing. The gnome looks up from his reading and states, "Khiol, you're done for the evening, retire to whatever hole you crawl out of. Begone and quickly I have other buisness this night." Placing the last jar with the rest the Rakash stands turns to the gnome and bows slightly and stammers, "Thank you for the opportunity Necrolord Zerreck Arkarm, I wish only to learn as you have." With that said Khiol walks off into the woods and dissappears.
Leaning against a tree listening quietly the envoloping fog parts to reveal a tall Human man with steely blue-grey eyes and receding black touseled hair, Zerreck steps up to the man offers up the bottle of rum and says, "Are you ready to try this Hackett, You'll never be the same again." With a wink Hackett takes a seat near the collection of jars and hushed conversation ensues. A loud CRACK issues from a stick at Khiol's feet, he slips quickly off into the forest avoiding discovery muttering to himself, "So thats how he plans to break this curse, interesting...."
-The Forsaken Rakash
http://elanthipedia.org/w/index.php/Khiol
Preparations... on 02/21/2013 12:15 PM CST
Re: Preparations... on 02/21/2013 01:58 PM CST
Re: Preparations... ::NUDGE:: on 02/21/2013 03:46 PM CST
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Re: Preparations... ::NUDGE:: on 02/21/2013 05:12 PM CST
Some seek solitude in the company of others. Allies or mentors, respected minds to collaborate with, to learn from. To fill the hole within all of us with the lesser immortality of being remembered, maybe even adored. It's an addiction, a comfort we return to all too frequently, never learning the lesson of the pain of it's shortcoming and inevitable let down. Because it will let you down. They will all let you down.
Perhaps one day, I will no longer suffer from this... lesser... sentiment. Until then, I have my progress, and my pain to remind me that only I am worthy of of this pursuit. None have anything to offer save the protracted and carefully maintained illusion of anonymity.
[OOC: As a scientist, that was actually really hard to write. My necromancer is a narcissistic jerkface]
Perhaps one day, I will no longer suffer from this... lesser... sentiment. Until then, I have my progress, and my pain to remind me that only I am worthy of of this pursuit. None have anything to offer save the protracted and carefully maintained illusion of anonymity.
[OOC: As a scientist, that was actually really hard to write. My necromancer is a narcissistic jerkface]