Completed Mysteries in a Bird Skull

[Marcus Ahysen]

Marcus shot a glance at Clyde as Inoadar spoke. He highly doubted the poisoners suspicions were true. Clyde had ample opportunity to harm the city, and had proven loyal at every turn. The fact that he was not a soldier already was probably more due to the recent turmoils in the city than any doubt the Ebonstryfe had about Clyde. Marcus did not know everything there was to know about the mage, obviously, but he had only heard good things so far. The fact that Clyde's examination of the item came up empty handed was a bit annoying, and only drove Inoadar's points home. But Inoadar's overall attitude since they arrived, toward Clyde and Marcus both was also annoying. Being rude to Clyde was one thing. Stupid, but acceptable. But Marcus was an agent of the Black Sun, and deserved respect. He was not an assistant anymore, not that he ever really had been, but Inoadar's attitude was just irksome. "I do not doubt Clyde's loyalty. He has served this city for years, while you have only recently been brought into the fold. His Crucible is upcoming, and soon he will be Chaon. My warning was to protect you, not to lecture you, but if you want a lecture, I will be happy to give you one. For now though, go an get your mage. We will see if he is as useful as you think he is." Marcus glanced at Clyde again, still rather annoyed at the mage for failing, despite the fact that it wasn't really his fault. It was Marcus who had not done the research.. but it didn't matter now. Clyde had done what he could, and now it was time to bring in another. "Oh, and Morley," Marcus called, his voice dripping with unmasked venom, "If your mage fails, I will let Clyde show you what happens to those who are disrespectful to the Ebonstrye and Black Sun. I'm sure you'll be fine though, if he really was sent by Rhysol as you say he was." The threat was mostly empty, Marcus really did not plan on killing Inoadar, or letting Clyde do it, and it was quite possible that Inoadar was fully aware of it. Marcus had invested too much time in Inoadar already to just have him killed at the slightest insult.. though Marcus own words might just push Inoadar to do something rash.. and then somebody probably would die. Marcus was glad there were Ebonstryfe stationed outside the building, in the case that things did turn dour.

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde continued to rest for a bit, breathing a bit heavily, and feeling drained. He was not as good at using auristics as he was in Reimancy, which meant he tired faster. He would need a good meal, after all this. This was also possibly the deepest he had gone into an aura yet. He took some time pondering over things, what he had seen, what he had experienced... But even though he had garnered a lot of info, it did not really make sense to him. He lacked the knowledge base to utilize what he had seen. He of all people knew each mage had his niche. Clyde's niche might be wider than an average mages, but it still was not all encompassing. He continued to mull the things over in his head, but was forced to acknowledge his lack of base knowledge upon which to make further deductions or assumptions. His understanding of malediction was very basic, and vague. He would take a sip of water from his waterskin, and remove his gloves, taking his time to rest in the chair.

[Inoadar]

'Shyke! Marcus is pissed off at me now too.' Inoadar grumbled to himself as he stepped into the midday sun. He didn't care what the mage thought of him, except as far as deciding to incinerate him on the spot went. He'd prefer to dodge that arrow if he could. But, despite the initial contention of their first meeting and eventual tense collaboration, he considered Marcus a level-headed guy.

He wouldn't go so far as to call him a "friend", but he respected him and felt his opinions to be well-grounded for the most part. 'Am I really that out-of-line here? That 'Clyde' was as arrogant as anyone I've ever dealt with. I had good reason to suspect the possibility of a hidden agenda not to our benefit. But why did I accuse him so bluntly? It's not like me to speak without giving a little thought first.'

'Well, I'll bring Wrenmae, and then they'll see what someone who knows what they're doing can accomplish.' There was an instant where his thoughts held on the fact that his volatile attitude had begun immediately after meeting Wrenmae, but it slipped away unnoticed. It was Rhysol's own agenda he was concerned with here, not his own, not Marcus' and certainly not Clyde's! He spit on the walkway in disgust.

He found, after a moment of reflective recall, that his disgust was with himself as well. He'd blown it! It WAS Clyde's agenda he was worried about, but he'd ruined any chance of infiltrating the mage's trust and rooting out his REAL intent. He'd gotten so bent out of shape over the very first rude comment, he'd squared off and started making accusations. 'But why does Marcus trust him? As much as Marcus is standing up for him, I ought to be suspecting him too.'

This last thought just did not sit right. Marcus' job of spying on him was never anything he'd really taken personally. 'He is a Black Sun agent and he was doing his job. Do I really have any more than that same thing to hold against Clyde? Yes he was mouthy, but so was I. Foolishly so!' His mind ran the gamut of recriminations for his stupidity for the hundredth time. What was the difference that had set him off?

All he could think of was that the mage had insulted Wrenmae. Even though he felt justified in equating Wrenmae's presence in Ravok with his sense that Rhysol was proud of him, it wasn't as though Clyde had bad-mouthed Rhysol. Even Marcus would have reacted to that!

He was just starting to get a sense that something was wrong somewhere, when he realized he was standing at Wrenmae's door. 'Oh yeah.' his train of thought shattered, 'Let's get this thing going. NOW we'll see some work!'

He knocked three times. "Wrenmae! The meeting I mentioned is underway. It's time to open some eyes!"

[Wrenmae]

The small apartment he'd rented thus far served him as well as any other. What really was remarkable was the fact that since he had arrived in Ravok, there had not been one dismal day. From what he'd gathered from the other tenants...there was never a dismal day. Save for the terrifying storm that ripped through here as certainly as it did Sunberth and many other places, Ravok was a tranquil monument to the perfect city.

From his window, the young mage looked out over the city. People smiled and laughed as they went about their days, always shadowed by the dark armor of the Ebonstryfe. Law was something enforced here, even violently...but never in the public where it could be looked upon with fear or even doubt. No...most of the dissidents and troublemakers met their ends behind closed doors or in rotting dungeons beneath the earth. The only way such encompassing peace could be maintained would have to be with full cooperation of the general public.

And that meant sparing them most of the grisly details.

Reaching up, he gingerly touched the angry welt where Rhysol had touched his neck. It was remarkable that a god like that could so easily create a place like this. Blessed were they who followed the agenda of the god blindly, happy to complicity surrender to what they assumed was a benevolent and caring deity.

But Wrenmae had seen his true face before...and although favor had finally been passed to him, his body did not forget the torture he'd endured to reach it.

A swift knock on his door interrupted his thoughts and he heard Inoadar's voice from the other side.

Inoadar...now, that was a man that had been frighteningly easy to manipulate. Perhaps fate had willed it that he meet the fellow during a transitional period in his life, but every suggestion Wrenmae fed to him was consumed without question.

Grabbing his cloak and weapons, belting them to his side and making sure to leave Zan on the pillow, Wren prepared himself in the space of a few ticks.

The little guy could watch the room while he was away.

Opening the door, he smiled at Inoadar and closed the door behind him.

"And the representative of Rhysol?"

"In attendance," Inoadar confirmed, "He brought a mage by the name of Sullins with him. I don't know the man, but he spoke poorly of your craft."

It was hard to miss the bile gathering behind Inoadar's words. Wrenmae reached forward and put a comforting hand on the poisoner's shoulder, reinforcing it with an emotional flash of calm.

"No worries," Wrenmae answered with a shrug, "If you're still here to get me, it means this...other mage has not produced the results needed. I thank you for coming to me so promptly, let's see what I can do to help."

Together, the poisoner and the mage crossed the streets back to Inoadar's shop. Wrenmae paused briefly at the door, letting Inoadar enter first before he followed.

In the first few moments he spent in the shop, a number of new truths became available to him. First, the skull in question was in the center of the room. It was undoubtedly a bird's skull with the beak, but little else, from first glance, was understandable. Second, two other men were already in the shop. One drank from a water flask and the other watched impassively from the back. The one who watched him was Chaon, like himself, something they both knew the moment they laid eyes on each other. If Wrenmae had to guess, he'd assume the representative of Rhysol would be the most likely to be blessed with the god's favor...which left the other man to be the original mage summoned for the job.

Wrenmae bent into a bow, trying his best not to add an instinctual flourish, "I apologize for the abrupt interruption, but I was told I may be able to lend some assistance to your investigation. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Wrenmae Sek, a maladictor." He nodded to both men, and finally to Inoadar.

"Now," he said, looking down at the skull, "There should be a circle and shapes carved into the bone, point me out every circle that matches that description. Likewise any examination the other mage I was told about has done...a...Sullins, I think? In any case, collaboration is a helpful tool in discerning the origin and nature of any magical item."

He smiled, holding out a hand to Clyde.

"Master Sullins, I presume?"

[Marcus Ahysen]

OOCSorry for taking so long on this. Things have been rather busy lately, as I'm sure you're aware. The whole RS thing gave me a lot more work than normal, but I'm getting back into the flow of things. As Marcus waited for Wrenmae to arrive he consdiered the other mage in the room, Clyde. Sullins was powerful, that much Marcus knew, and more than once he had done things to help the city.. yet he was still only an apprentice in the Ebonstryfe. Marcus wondered why. What was wrong with the mage, that Rhysol would not see fit to mark him? Was he insane, as Marcus had often heard such mages to be? [wiki]Luvet[/wik] had often warned Marcus the danger of losing ones mind and self to magic.. but the magic Marcus practiced in was unlike anything Clyde did. Marcus did not consider himself a mage, either. His skill was so minor, Clyde would likely laugh at him if he bothered to reveal it. Marcus knew he needed to practice more with morphing, but it was a skill that intimidated him. So much could go wrong, and his mundane disguise skills had proved sufficient to date. And Marcus had no desire to lose his sanity. His thoughts were interrupted, however, as Wrenmae Sek entered the room. Automatically he could sense the chaon in the other man, which led at least some credibility to Inoadar's claims that he had been sent by Rhysol, but it also put Marcus on guard. There were two types of Chaon. Those who had been initiated either by the Black Sun or the Ebonstryfe, and those who had been marked at the random whim of the god they all served. Those random ones.. they could be anything. And they were dangerous. Marcus hesitated a moment before offering a nod and a name in greeting to the maledictor. "I am Marcus. If you are as useful as Morley claims you are, then you will be no interruption at all." Marcus shot a glance toward Inoadar, wondering if he had given Wrenmae a different name. The man had a tendency to do that, giving different names to different people. If that were the case here, it might make things awkward.. and of course, that would only amuse the agent who was already annoyed with the man for his attitude earlier.

[Clyde Sullins]

As the mage entered, Clyde stood up. Still a bit tired from the aura reading, but still well enough. He nodded as he told his name, Wrenmae Sek, and listened as he went onward. However as he held out his hand to Clyde, calling him by name, he raised an eyebrow at him a bit uncertainly. He was supposedly another mage, a powerful one at that, which made Clyde a bit unsure of him... But also... It was odd to once more be known by name by a man he had not yet met. One of the downsides to being a well known and powerful mage in a town. Clyde extended his hand, and shook in response, though keeping his eyes on the man. He would work together with him... But he was still unsure of him. Should he trust him? He had given no reason to, or to not to. But Clyde had not lived so long as a mage by easily giving trust. Going over to the skull, he pointed out a few features as he spoke. "Yes, well, I prepared the area with my Glyphs, and then inspected it Auristically... Though as I have little base knowledge in Malediction, I cannot be sure what some of them meant... Or how well I can even convey some of it." "It is certainly enchanted or magical to some degree, and not just a mundane skull. Its aura is to strong for that. A bird skull clearly, as I read. I also noticed this point, as a focus of power, this circle. I would assume that is its source of power, via this circle? Though I only assume, it does seem likely, from my knowledge of other world magics in which the circle has importance that this would be likewise." "Am I right in thinking that is how it works, and that by destroying or damaging that circle its power would wane? I also felt something was... Connected?... Maybe... That was a bit fuzzy. It was to far off, or to deep, or to confused to make it out. But I could not tell for certain if this connection was intrinsic in Malediction, or a part of this items effect specifically. Clyde paused for a moment, thinking it over, trying to word it as best he could. But describing what one experienced via Auristics was iffy at best, and impossible at worst. "Perhaps you could explain to me what exactly in your words Malediction does, via what mechanism or procedure, to what usual end, and perhaps then I could better explain what I saw. Or even what uses it normally serves. What for example, would you use a bird skull to do via malediction?" At the end, Clyde was more looking for info on the theoretical aspect of Malediction. As his time in Magecrafting had shown him, such theoretical aspects about the principles of the magic could help make things more clear or to see what possible ways you might have ended up were you were. It was more following the logical order of steps or progression.

[Inoadar]

Several things were bothering Inoadar now. One of them being the simple fact that it was several things. It was a clear sign that was failing to keep control of himself. There was still a nagging sliver of distraction regarding how uncharacteristically belligerent he'd been. He kept trying to put that thought aside. What was done was done and he didn't intend to repeat it, so he should be able to shelve it in his subconscious. But it seemed like every other line of thought somehow came around to touch on it again. Not that he didn't feel justified in being annoyed at Clyde Sullins, but he'd been damn near suicidally aggressive in displaying it!

Not only had he nearly gotten himself killed, he'd reversed the general consensus of who had been the provocateur here. He had seen that Marcus had been annoyed with Clyde's attitude, but then he'd gone and blasted the man with outrageously blatant suspicions. He'd tried to backpedal, a sign of weakness, another thing that bothered him, but the mage had not bought it for a second. But it would only make things worse to attempt to reinforce either his initial outburst or his half-assed recantation. But again, there was the infuriating inability to dismiss the whole thing in his mind.

Then there was the newly perceived inconsistency of his name among the present company. Gods! How could I overlook something so fundamental! If Wrenmae calls me "Inoadar" in front of Clyde, or if Clyde calls me "Morley", I'll...I'll....what?' He realized it was not that big a deal. Mostly he'd just be embarrassed. He'd cover by saying his name was "Inoadar Morley". Marcus would probably hide a good laugh at his discomfiture, but it probably would not be the first time that anyone in the room had heard of someone going under a cover name.

But the idea that he had let it slip would show him up as a novice, an inept. 'What would Wrenmae think then?' He grimaced. 'Why am I worrying about that so much? Why am I worrying about ANY of this so much? What the petch is the matter with me? Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut?' Again, he'd come full circle to the thought of his initial outburst.

He'd been upset with himself when he'd left to get Wrenmae, and he was even worse now. Yet he'd felt so calm at Wrenmae's home. 'It's all that Clyde's fault!' he hissed inwardly. But reason came back long enough for him to acknowledge that Clyde had done nothing to aggravate him since he and Wrenmae had returned.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, 'A sign of stress, a sign of weakness...Damn it!' He rose from his chair and went into the front room, going through the motions of checking the lock for security. He returned, feeling a little better, resolving to say nothing. 'Just keep your petching mouth shut this time!' he ordered himself.

[Wrenmae]

Smiling easily, Wrenmae nodded as Clyde described what he'd seen. Auristics then...but no one was called a mage simply by being able to look at things well. He mentioned glyphing, but as a whole, Auristics and glyphing just made someone very good at examining. With the way Inoadar had spoken about the mage, Wrenmae had a good suspicion there was another magic at play here...one that might be a bit more dangerous. Projection? Voiding? Reimancy?

He shook his head, more to himself than anyone else. He could seek out answers later.

Kneeling down near the skull he examined the circle. Within the circle were two detailed depictions of bird skulls, flush with each other...and between them was a dotted line. All of it was closed in with the circle and the faint imprint of dried blood against the carefully prepared skull. Clyde was correct, this was a well prepared item...not something casually constructed.

He took a few moments to examine the item and then looked up at Clyde, rising and addressing them all.

"Maladiction is turning the remains of life into a fetish, a rather haphazard magical item...if you will. Now, I don't say haphazard to suggest its lack of effectiveness, but more to explain the process of Maladiction itself."

Closing his eyes, he reorganized his thoughts and continued speaking, pacing around the object. "There is no exact science to Maladiction. When a practitioner makes an item, they do so with full knowledge that whatever comes out might not be what they expected. A maladictor directs what they want the object to do through what is inside the circle, but in the end...one cannot force an object to do what they command. Essentially, you draw out the essence of the creature that died, forcing some aspect of it to manifest in the fetish. The circle is fairly simple, and necessary to contain the magic...inside there are two skulls and a dotted line between them." He indicated the skull again so they could look.

"The depiction indicates that this object may, in fact, be paired to another...or perhaps to many. Now, I'm afraid I cannot tell you its exact purpose...much of it is guesswork to examine what aspect of the bird the mage wanted to draw out. Identifying the skull could be important...knowing whether this is a bird of a flock or alone is also useful. Now, the skulls are closed and the dotted line is between them...not a straight line at all. Dotted suggests...invisible, unknown, sensed."

He rubbed his chin and examined the skull again.

"If I had to guess, I would think that this skull is connected to another. It could be a communication device, a tracking device, even theoretically a weapon based on what happens to one happening to the other. Gentlemen," he drew back, "I believe the only way to know for sure is for its owner to try and use it." He looked to Inoadar over his shoulder.

"If you would be so kind," He smiled, an easy pulse of confidence that likewise filled him, a backlash of his own magic, "Pick up the skull and try speaking to it, put it in the wind, try seeking something with it...see if it causes any reaction. If not, we will need to identify the species of bird for a closer idea of its purpose."

[Marcus Ahysen]

OOCSorry for taking so long. You guys probably could have skipped over me this round and it would have been fine. Marcus listened and watched as Clyde and Wrenmae spoke, and Wrenmae began his examination of the item. It was all really beyond Marcus' realm of knowledge. He knew nothing about creating magic items or fetishes, and in truth, he wasn't all that interested to learn either. While he would have no problem using such items, he was content to let others do the hard work of creating them for him. From everything he heard, the processes were dangerous anyway, and Marcus did not generally put himself in dangerous places when he could avoid it. The agent frowned as Wrenmae explained what the item might do. While he did seem to know more than Clyde, his ideas were still just guesses. Marcus considered saying something in that regards, but held his tongue. That is, until Wrenmae told Inoadar to begin speaking with it. "Hold on one chime. You want him to try activating the item, when you aren't even certain what it does? What if it actually is a weapon, and kills us all? I, for one, have no desire to be killed by a petching dead bird. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde listened, occasionally nodding, as Wremnae went over the concepts of Malediction. it was interesting to know, even if he had no plans of learning the magic or doing it. For it seemed likely that this would not be the last time he would interact with such an item. His explanation of how it worked, how its outcome was uncertain, seemed to verify what he had said before, and give meaning to what he had said where before he had none. It also explained how at odds it was with Magecrafting that he practiced. After all, it was all about precision and certain outcomes, more or less, while this Malediction was about vagueness and uncertainty in outcomes. No wonder his teacher had spoken ill of it. Regardless, he now knew the basic principles of Malediction, how it worked, how it functioned, and how it came about its magical qualities. Simple enough in theory, but it seemed like in principle actually doing it would became much more confusing and complicated. After all, one had little to no idea of the outcome, and only a vague ability to direct it. "That makes sense, it being connected to another. That must have been that thing I sensed in its aura, which seemed positionally far off even if still attached or a part of it. I suppose that lines up then... I had wondered what it could mean... I only vaguely sensed the connection, and that was when I was pretty deep into its aura." Then quick as could be, Wrenmae wanted to delve into an experiment, to test the skull out. The idea did seem a bit soon to him, but really as he thought about it logically, they had come as far as theoretical discussion and physical and magical inspection would allow. If they wanted to proceed, it would require them to be a bit more hands on. Clyde nodded to Marcus, before speaking directly to him. "That may be true, it may be a bit dangerous, but is there any other alternative? If we wish to go on, we will have to do as he says. However, there are some precautions we can take. If you would like, I could isolate... What was his name again? More?" Clyde paused for a moment, thinking, but realized soon he could not recall his name, and so simply passed on unless someone filled in the name for him. "Whatever, I could isolate him inside of a powerful series of barriers Glyphs, to keep any backlash from getting out. Since it is attuned to him, I doubt it would hurt him, likely we are the only ones it wold do anything to. But if I block it, my Glyphs should either keep the skull from detecting us via any means magical which might set off said mechanism, or keep any ill effects inside said barrier. What do you think of that Wrenmae, would that suitably protect us from any likely effect? Or do you think doing so would also block the skull from connecting to its possible connected equivalent?"