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[Morvale Barrows]

Morvale was enthusiastic about what kind of idea pan would have. Often times it was nice to have a second opinion, it gave a refreshing twist and perhaps open his eyes to something he had missed. However as the Nuit moved across the table and asked questions Morvale smiled with jubilant expectations until he mirrored it back at him.

"Those questions are all right in some way or form, sometimes it amounts to the bone itself. Like a tibia would be ideal to draw out a creatures agility while something like its skull or teeth might draw upon its intellect its hunger or even it's aggression or intimidation. Sometimes the bones you have will dictate what you get as it narrows down your ability to steer the item.

I have an idea for this, lets try a moon and see how this will steer the object. Pack animals like canines seem drawn to it in the night sky. So let us see what property this will draw out"

Within the circle Morvales quill squiggled out two lumpy masses which represented clouds, and then formed a partial marks that created the illusion of a full circle behind them. It was simplistic in nature but Morvale was confident that it it's simplicity in the matter would yield a more accurate result, although what result he would stumble upon remained to be forseen. It was then that Morvale decided to carefully fill in the full moon to make it stand out behind the clouds, as if it was aglow with majestic lunar brilliance.

His hand then reached for his knife and while he waited for the ink to dry.

"Are you ready? Lets see what will happen, this is a final touch to set the magic into motion."

The daggers fine edge slid across his thumb, the amount of blood he would fuel the object with. He wondered if perhaps more blood may make the item better so he generously let the droplets pitter patter across his archaic and primitive representation of the moon. It was then his sigils and lines seemed to ravenously suck the blood into the lines the runic varients he'd created. The item feverishly glowed and sizzled before it dimmed into crimson red illuminesence that glowed within the dark. A blood red moon now alive pulsing with life behind the the clouds.

"This the last phase of creation, the next is more dangerous."

[Pandaemus]

The threat of dangerous magic was one Pan was well accustomed to. Rather than make him less inclined to abide with precaution, the warning kept him from the workbench. Pan would not suffer because of his own careless curiosity. The nuit left Morvale alone at the bench to work his magic, moving back against the wall and watching. His brow was furled slightly, the intensity of the situation making him concerned. Would he witness a great work of art here? Or perhaps have to explain to someone why the man named Morvale had died in the lab. Nonsense, no one would ask for explanation. He was sure the man knew what he was doing. This was his craft, his profession. It was to him as animation was to Pandaemus. He grimaced and took another step back for good measure.

“A moon could bring out the night-time hunter as well, don’t you think.” Pan’s voice held an unwanted edge of nerves to it. “The feral beast…” The nuit did not do well with physical dangers. Especially when he himself was without any means of physical protection. Sure, he had his voiding. A void portal that would take nearly half a minute to conjure and was almost as big as his hand maybe? He had no practical means of self-defense. Yet.

The wizard made a mental note to practice more in his voiding while he waited in anticipation. Out from it’s sheath, Morvale pulled a sharp dagger. The man cut a thumb and let his life’s blood drip from it onto the art he had crafted upon the pelt. The lines of his craft seemed to suck up the blood with a real hunger. Pan took an involuntary step forward.

The moon, like some sort of dark red sun, began to pulse. It glowed with the energy of Morvale’s lifeblood. Pan began to approach hesitantly. “Impressive. Was that the djed being imbued? Is it trapped or is there more?” He was hungry for answers. Any magical knowledge is good knowledge. The pelt was clearly more than a pelt here.

”This the last phase of creation, the next is more dangerous.” Morvale’s words served to quell Pan’s momentary bravery in the face of fascinating new magic. He valued unlife far more than any gleaning he would get from being close.

“Of course, of course. I will remain back here. Give you space…” Pandaemus smiled and chuckled nervously. His thumbs hooked inside his waistband. Memory flashed to years past where he too tinkered with dead bodies, but never like this. And never had it been willingly. Death and the dead made him fearful. Ironic that in his flight from death he was forever doomed to cage himself inside corpses. Uldr’s idea of a cruel joke.

[Morvale Barrows]

It could bring out potentially a lot of things, but I wanted to demonstrate just how random Malediction can be. Sometimes you can loose perspective by over thinking the process, but as we have discussed some things are applied to all types of a specific creature.

Even Morvale could relate to that feeling of helplessness on the island, left arm was raw with pain from his encounter with this animated beast. It was by far a very sobering experience to realize he might loose his arm over the very least Sahova had to offer. What kind of horrors lurked deep within the testing grounds he could not begin to fathom.

"I'm not one hundred percent certain how it works, I can
Only imagine that the drop of my life force empowers the runic variation to siphon the desired legacy from the dead marrow of the bone.

He laughed a bit under his breath, he'd made a few items hear and there but he never took the time to question it. Of course he knew that it worked but the thought made him feel a little ignorant to the very process of which it worked. As he was in a moment of self reflection he noticed Pan milling off again he seemed afraid of a major catastrophe that would sweep the workshop.

"I wouldn't worry to much, if the item itself breaks it's maledicted functions cease to exist."

He took a look at the project and that back and Pandaemus before smiling at him. He was confident in his work and he wanted the Nuit to experience Malediction, not just observe it. So he took the completed item and folded it carefully before handing the cloak to pan as he offered it.

"I've decided, I think that this should belong to you. When your ready give it a try, someday you will want to know what Malediction is about and I've shown you enough to make attempts on your own. But showing is not the same as experiencing it first hand, I cannot tell you for certain what power it holds but there's something and it's for you."

Morvale was happy to see the item go, although admittedly he wanted to see Pandaemus reaction. He was a careful and studious kind of fellow, what a thrill it would be for him to experience the unknown.

"So here I am rambling on about Malediction I've forgotten to ask what it is you do on the island. Certainly you must have some special talent?"

[Pandaemus]

Special talent! “Ah no, not really special. I have a passable understanding of Animation. And a bit of experience in tinkering to go along with it, as well as a bit of voiding under my belt. Really it’s not impressive, just the norm here.” Pan gestured to the lab, and citadel, around him with the newly acquired cloak. He held it a bit away from his body, not wanting to be consumed by some unknown power. But Morvale had said it was fine to hold, and he himself had held it without incident. But he had also mentioned in an offhand devil-may-care sort of way that he didn’t really understand the process. That had left Pan uneasy.

But did Pandaemus actually understand the process of animating a construct? Did he really grasp the massive nothingness that was the void. The answer was an easy no. Which was part of why he loved, and feared, both crafts. Malediction would just be added to the list. Pan glanced down at the pulsing red moon and back up to Morvale. The man sure was confident in himself. Jealousy rose up in Pan and he examined the human liveliness of the pulser. He was human, he was relatively healthy, and he was bold.

Perhaps Pan would be able to learn from the boldness displayed here. “Where did you come about such a skill? I myself had a teacher before Sahova.” Pan found himself wanting to learn more. Perhaps Morvale would become a vital associate in the years to come. Or maybe he would be a rival. Either way he needed more information before he decided what he thought of the man. Right now it was just a dull feeling of envy.

Pan walked to a desk and sat down on the wooden surface, setting the cloak down carefully next to him. The two looked at each other and Pan felt Morvale was also assessing him. Did he look like much of an ally? An enemy? Surely he held nothing appealing about his personage. Or perhaps Morvale wasn’t thinking the way Pandaemus was. He might just be conversing out of politeness. Pan grinned at his own exaggerated thought process. Only someone brought up in a deeply dysfunctional home could think of people by merit of later use.

“I’m very new here, and really haven’t developed much of a talent yet. But I hope to be a master Animator one day.”

[Morvale Barrows]

"Ha skill?" Morvale was a bit confused, he in all truthfulness wasn't that great a maledictor in fact compared to other abilities he possessed it was rather minor in the big scope of things. His hand rubbed the back of his head as he smiled a little embarrassed but also a small inflation of his ego had happened." Not to say my skill in this is great, it's more of a dabbling then anything, I acquired this in Zeltiva learned a little in my short time in the university most that go there tend to have backgrounds in something this is just something I picked up along the way."

The thought of the university brought him back to a time not to long ago, brought up some bad feelings that he intently in a most diligent manner kept from resurfacing. Of course as pan sat next to him he couldn't help but wonder more about him. The ugly thing about this was it made him realize how hard it was to trust him, comrodery was one thing but he didn't know how he felt about putting his life in his hands.

"You shouldn't look down on your talents, this is Sahova the mundane here is extraordinary elsewhere. If you wish to become a master you've come to the right place, you will undoubtedly learn things in one season that may take you a lifetime elsewhere. Even the humblest apprentice can make the entirety of the university in Zeltiva look like hacks and half wits. You possess something beyond most people's comprehension I cannot begin to fathom how you do with what you do."

[Pandaemus]

The human’s empathy, no matter how sincere, struck home with him. He was totally right. Sahova was an extraordinary place home to wildly skilled mages. The doubt in himself he felt here was from anxiety of the Judgement and a past riddled with a severely psychotically disturbed upbringing. His childhood had been less than nurturing, and his confidence was reaping the benefits of it. Pan ran a hand through his hair and rolled his head.

“Thank you Morvale.” His kind words were a boost in confidence, no matter their sincerity. Sahova was full of conniving sneaks and political snakes. He did not know how innocent Morvale was, but was fairly confident he was not trying to take advantage of him with his words. After all, how useful could an initiate be to someone of a different profession? Pan was barely an Animator, and Morvale had said himself that he was not skilled in the art. Upon landing on the dark docks of Sahova, Pandaemus had told himself he would tread carefully. But he could not help but take the stranger’s kind words to heart. Perhaps he was just too naive still. Perhaps his heart had not died enough for Sahova.

He stood and gripped the cloak. “A fine piece of crafting, Morvale. Are you sure you want me to have it?” He ran cold, dead fingers through the soft fur of the wolf. It felt warm and inviting to his undead touch. “Those are kind words not often heard in these walls Morvale. I hope you are not the only one here who sees it that way.” Pan leant his head back, a signature replacement for a sigh, since he no longer needed to breath. “I am sure I will be able to grow in my skill set…”

Pandaemus struggled for a moment. Everything in him told him not to confide in the man. Trust was a weakness that brought death, the ancient nuit had always told him. But something about the man’s kind words softened his guard a bit. “I just find myself plagued with stress over this upcoming judgement. I know nothing of the judges. So it is a dark gamble I’ll be making.”

Pan draped the cloak over his shoulders and let the wolf head hang down by one thin shoulder. The fur tickled the stiff, gaunt cheeks of his face. He did not clasp it though, not wanting to invoke the magic here. Then a small, dark tendril of doubt crept into his mind. What if Morvale had poisoned the magic of the cloak to cripple him? The paranoia stopped him dead in his tracks, so to speak. The man would have absolutely no reason to do so, that Pandaemus could see. He felt he could depend upon his uselessness as a rival or a pawn to keep him alive for now. What could this man gain from killing Pandaemus, besides a rather well carved staff with a minor animation in it. He would not gain any status, or quench out the threat of a rival. Pan shook the suspicion from himself. Again his past was getting the better of him.

“What are these other skills you possess?” Pan’s eyebrows raised. His pale eyelids were visible above icy blue iris’ that bore deep into Morvale’s visage. The nuit had always been fascinated by strangers. He was sure if came from a thorough lack of friends or acquaintances as a teenager. His master had made sure he had no one to protect him, no one to support him. The outcome was a fiercely independent boy, a loner by default. He always saw so much potential history and mystery in strangers, even if they were not so interesting in reality as in his mind. Pan had been in the habit of creating his own histories for the people he saw when he was a boy in Zeltiva. But that would not suffice here.

On Sahova he had to make real connections, and exchange real knowledge with people. It all came back to the roots. He would plant his roots in the Citadel and make allies and associates. He could start with Morvale.

[Morvale Barrows]

Pandaemus was right as Morvale was about mistrust, he asked to know more and Morvale was a little hesitant at first. The only real downside to Sahova was all the secret agendas and ladder climbing, people became self absorbed with themselves forgetting the purpose of the island along the way. Everyone at some point in time was guilty of this, they had communities filled to the brim of the very absolute best in there fields but the political intrigue of the island left everyone scrambling to plot plot behind the Arch Mage. That's how he saw it, to work grow and aspire with the greatest magical minds, however what it could or should have been was very different then what it was.

"Yes I'm sure, keep it. I've always had a soft spot for people that take interest In the things I do. Think of it as an invitation into a new world."

He smiled and then continued

"I am best at flux, the manipulation and harnessing of the spiritual self to become faster stronger or even tougher. My thoughts on it are simple, most mages are indeed truly powerful what they lack is reaction time. How long does it take to shape a spell? How long does it take for them to line you down the shaft and release there shot? How long does it take that spell to go from point A to B.i think of myself as more of a battle mage, reflex and agility to surpass those around me. How good is magic this close from where I stand from you now? I can fight within the span of a 4x4 dorm room. I hope that my theory will get me to an apprenticeship within the citadel.

But despite all this you have a better chance then I to make it within the Citdel, you belong here where I am viewed as an outsider. You can survive long after my body becomes frail to the test of time"

Who was jealous of who now?

Perhaps Mirvale wanted to make friends within the Citadel should he fail his judgement, pan might not have realized but he was working with a deck of cards stacked in his favor.

[Pandaemus]

Battle. Pandaemus had been in a few fights before. But he had never thought of using magic as a combative force. Animation was far and away from such a quick and violent magic as flux or reimancy. It was a slow, and drawn-out process. But voiding, he supposed, could be used in a combat settling. Pandaemus inwardly wondered if he would ever become good enough at the skill to keep up with the fast pace of combat.

Morvale’s words held a bit of venom. The tone seemed to convey a subtle hint of bitterness when he admitted Pandaemus still had a better chance of making an apprenticeship than he. Pan smiled, trying to defuse a somewhat tense situation. Being a nuit could not be enough to land someone an apprenticeship on the Island. He was sure they might give a bit of leeway for the undead, simply because they had more time to perfect their craft than the living did. But he would still have to impress the damn judges.

“Oh you are just assuming I am not complete rubbish at my animations now. You know what they say about assuming, right?” Pan spread his hands theatrically. “It makes an ass out of you and me! I’m not nearly as good as I should be.” He did not want to plant some sort of hostility between himself and Morv. He may be better off for the judgement, but that had nothing to do with his skill set.

Pandaemus shrugged. “As for battle, I don’t think my voiding is anywhere near good enough for that sort of thrill. And animation is not exactly the flashiest of arts.” He thought back to the many hours of study and sitting inside the painted circles he and his master had made in their cabin. “And I feel that is my real passion. Voiding was just a side curiosity.”

[Strange]

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Pandaemus

Skills

Skill Name	Experience
Rhetoric	2 XP
Socialising	3 XP

Lores

Morvale: Maledictor
Morvale: An Ally? A Friend?
Malediction: Activating The Dormant Djed of the Dead
Malediction: You Never Know What You're Gonna Get
Malediction Circles: Used to bring out and steer the power of the relic
Socialisation: Confiding In Another

Loot

Item	Description	Cost/Gain
Shroud of the Wolf	When worn during the day this cloak is completely normal. When worn most nights this cloak is also completely normal. However when one wears this in the light of the full moon one is imbued with the ability to howl exactly like a wolf. CAUTION: May attract hungry wolves!	FREE

Comments :

Nice, little thread you two had going here. Shame it ended so abruptly.

Morvale: If you ever return to Mizahar pleae PM me and I'll add your grade.

I have awarded your grade to the best of my ability. Of course I'm not infallible so if you have any comments or queries about your grade feel free to PM me.

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