It is night, in the sand-swept city of Muspar'i. A figured robed in darkness itself stalks the streets, as S'kra peddlers begin to close their stalls and shops for the coming eve. A vivid sash of scarlet sways as a breeze brings respite from the harsh desert climate, a lion embroidered in black adorning a small portion of the silk. A mark, a symbol, an emblem; a badge of honor.

A mistwood cane, gnarled and scorched, is held in the man's left hand as his other steadies a heavy tome laden in sand-battered and sun-beaten hide. Yheehar, no doubt. An ornate clasp of flame-kissed gold adorns the cover, intricately shaped into the image of a brilliant sun, its rays spiraling out across the hide and ending in faded obsidian spikes. A corona of black flames seemingly surrounds the faded sun, fashioned from the mirrored black rock. Particles of sand cling to the tome, as the Mage slowly plods his way through the Gate of the Sun's Jewel, fiercely bearded countenance turning towards the Velaka. Many other Mages of renown have sought solace in the Desert, seeking to find the unexplainable. Many years ago the famed S'kra Archmage had perfected the Ethereal shield spell, it is quite curious that this particular power-hungry mage appears to be locked in his own similar, but private race...

The sun casts a pinkish hue across the sands of the Velaka, as the robed figure is set with eyes closed, cane raised and tome wavering as he intones in the arcane tongue a series of darkling words. Only a few yards away, a wild yeehar has been subdued by a handful of rag-wearing S'kra, their dress that of the peasant class. Apparently happy to work for such pitiful wages of silver lirums, the five young boys armed with viscous pikes keep the beast at bay while their employer turns to the beast, sparkling jade eyes narrowed balefully.

Quickly, the Adept hisses out in common, "Let it loose and run you fools..."
Hesitantly, the S'kra release their hold of the chains, leaving one spiked into the ground. The beast lets out a guttural roar, and the young boys disappear over a nearby sand dune. As the chains weaken, the robed figure drops to the sands on his knees, cane forgotten as he sifts his hands into the earth. All grows dark, as his brilliant oculars close -- a pathway of aether is seemingly manipulated as the Mage focuses his resolve inward.

A loud SNAP emanates, and the ground twitches as the yeehar makes ready to maim the defenseless Mage. From underneath darkened hood, as twilight falls apon the Velaka, an intense scream echoes in the night. The five boys quickly look backwards, and ready their pikes in horror. The ground below the boys trembles, as massive gouts of colorless flame explode upward, sending embers and twirling, dark sparks against the night sky.
In a violent turn of events, the black fire surrounds the yeehar, consuming flesh and scorching the ground beneath its feet. Its body explodes as fire bursts out from within, spraying boiling blood and burning pieces of bone in a wide circle, painting the Mage's robes a grim hue. Lips twitch in a smile, as his hands blindly feel out the streams of power. A shower of violently crackling black sparks descends over the area, the man silently standing up as he retrieves his cane and follows the quickly laid path back to Muspar'i, the boys running past the man to see the scene of carnage...the scene of mayhem.

In their own guttural tongue, one of the S'kra turns to his comrades and hisses out, "Foul magicksss are at work...Hissss ssssoul is consssumed by the fire..."

Candlelight flickers from a modest inn room, a scar-laced hand tanned from exposure to the sun quickly jotting down notes in elegant gamgweth script. The mage writes feverishly well into the night, all the while gnawing on the end of a driftwood pipe, cleverly carved into the shape of a sea serpent. Errantly, the image of a prone dragon is exhaled by the man, as he quickly scrawls the last message in common. "Blackfire is not a dual sorcery, as I first anticipated. This is not a hybrid spell, but a direct line to our very origins...it defies the laws of magick and mana as we know it! I must finish my research, at any cost..."

A hammer sounds silently in the night, as scrolls are put up at every known guild hall from Muspar'i to the never-ending storm of Melear's tower. A handful of mages, working in perfect unison, prepare the scrolls under the shadows of night. And as the first rays of the sun awaken Elanthia, the scrolls are quite clear...

Identical pieces of sun-bleached vellum are burned in the center with image of flame-masked lion set rampant, blocking out the image of a brilliant sun with a black corona. In simple block lettering in scarlet ink beneath the isignia the words "To our brothers and sisters, the call of the Lion doth beckon you...the glory of Arhat approaches..."


OOC. Respond/react to the scrolls as much as you would like. You may even factor in rumors from Muspar'i that creatures have been found that have been appealingly 'sacrificed' in a 'ritual' manner, and the locales are speaking of a Man whom wields a 'dark power'. But, no names. Just propaganda.


~The Blackfire Mage Magmus