Quest Breaking Point: A Crucible Story

[Verilian]

Clyde's words seemed to stun Ervis into silence. The old Mage stared, a surprised look on his face. It seemed Clyde had stolen his voice. Or at least it seemed that way.. Until slowly a grin began to spread across his face and he began to laugh. His head tilted back and his mouth opened wide as laughter began to pour out. It grew louder and louder, and louder and louder, until it began to hurt Clyde's ears, until finally it stopped. The old mans head snapped back to attention and his eyes focused on Clyde. "Most unexpected! Most unexpected. Not even my druvin have come to that conclusion!" The laughter began again, inhumanly loud. It shook Clyde to his core, resonated with his very soul. All around him things began to change. Dark tendrils began to creep up the walls, black as the void yet, impossibly, shining with every color imaginable and some Clyde could not even begin to place. The mage in front of him began to fall away , torn to shreds from the inside out by claws made of the same impossible substance. It all became too much to comprehend, and Clyde's world was engulfed in chaos. It was chimes, or possibly years, before it began to calm and Clyde found himself standing alone in a dark room, no longer bound. Though it was pitch black, Clyde could clearly see the god before him. No words were spoken, not by Rhysol anyway, as the god approached. Casually he ran a long, black fingernail across the palm of his hand, drawing blood. The god thrust out his arm, the limb stretching to cover the distance between them, and pressed his palm against the wound on Clyde's ribs, the one first inflicted by Ervis Revine. Blinding pain coursed through Clyde's body, worse than anything Ervis had previously inflicted upon him. Worse than anything he had ever felt. The pain soon gave way to unbelievable ecstasy. There was no greater pleasure than that which coursed through his veins as he was imbued with the gift of chaon. When finally the throes of pleasure ran their full course through his body and Clyde regained his senses, he found the scenery had changed again. He was in a different room now, dark save for the flickering glow of torches on the building outside the window. Directly behind him was a door, and in the bed in front of him was a woman, blissfully unaware of the presence of the two figures staring down at her as she slept. Two figures, as Rhysol was standing at Clyde's side. "The woman before you is Siriana. You have seen her before." The memory of Siriana stopping Ervis from killing him flashed through Clyde's mind. "She is the leader of the Rising Dawn, and without her, you would certainly be dead. I present you with two choices. Both are betrayals, and both will bring chaos, one to the Rising Dawn, and the other to Ravok. Kill her, here and now, or you may walk out that door and let her live. Be my instrument. Make your choice." And with that, Rhysol was gone. Clyde was alone in the room with the still peacefully sleeping woman. The door was right behind him. He could walk out, and repay her for sparing his life by sparing hers, but betray Ravok in the process. Or he could betray her, and take her life. OOCOkay, so this post came to me as I was driving home. I had a plot all along, but I had know idea how to get us there. Clyde's realization was perfect.

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde panted for a moment, perhaps longer, as he finished his rant, and looked at the mage before him. Ervis, the member of the Rising Dawn, who did not really care about them... Who suddenly began to laugh at Clyde's words. It kept growing in intensity, and Clyde could not cover his ears. How was he doing that? And how was no one coming and hearing? His next words though confused Clyde... HIS Druvin? His? His response was congratulatory, for his coming to a conclusion that honestly Clyde would not have considered even five chimes earlier. It had just suddenly popped into his head, and he had said it. It was one of those things where in retrospect it seemed obvious, but until it was explained... And this man already knew... And said they were his Druvin. Clyde's brain whirred away, trying to catch up. The sound rang through him, reverberating at some primitive level, one that he could not understand, but he could feel it shaking his very essence. At the same time he looked about to see something creeping up to consume the walls... For a half a moment he thought it was the void, that they were in the void and the walls were being pealed away... But at the same time, it was not the void, not absolute, for even the void in its emptiness was constant and stable. This... This was different, but nothing and everything and shifting and standing still. Utter chaos which could not be followed by logic, as its very nature both confounded and defeated that logic, while also allowing it. For a moment Clyde wanted to reach out and catch just a drop of it, to inspect it, to understand it, even knowing its nature was to not be understood... But he did not. As he thought on it his mind seemed to accelerate away, trying to focus on it all but failing, moving at breakneck speed but falling behind too slow. It was like trying to read the contents of a page all at once, a book, and feeling the ache as your mind did not listen and gave you only a confused jumble. In time Clyde found himself no longer bound, no longer on the way, instead in a dark room, standing with a God, who was clearly Rhysol, defying the darkness, by remaining visible when he should not be. This darkness though was not as the earlier confusing non-nothing, but instead actual darkness, capable of being comprehended. Of being dark. What could Clyde do? What could Clyde say? As far as he knew, this was the first time he had met a god... It was both amazing and terrible... And yet, a odd sort of logic. A logic to the non-logic, of what Rhysol did and said. Or what would have before seemed as non logical to even him. Suddenly though, by his one realization, many more were made possible. Rhysol cut himself, let the blood flow, and pressed it upon his ribs, upon the wound he had suffered upon being stabbed. As the blood soaked into him, into his wound, into his blood, he experienced true pain. Pain as the transition would come on, as it flowed through him, wreaking its havoc, but a single drop and yet still mighty and potent. And as it swept past that, a greater wave replaced it, changing it to pleasure, even more than he felt upon casting sweet magic, of the thrum of djed in his veins... The pleasure was alive, and intrinsically greater in its nature as only such a living thing could be. A time passed once more, and Clyde realized he was not in the same dark room, not were he had been, if he had ever actually been there. Had any of it happened? Had he? Had Ervin? Was Ervin even real, or was he just a facade created for Rhysol's own usage? Or was he real, and Rhysol had just pretended to be him, stolen his identity? How would he ever know which was true? They were standing in the room, with the woman he had seen earlier, perhaps more than once, but who had saved him... Or had she? For if it had not been real, then she would not have been real, and her saving him was fake also... But perhaps it had been real? Then Rhysol spoke, and Clyde listened in silence. He had given him a choice... Kill her, or let her live.She was the leader of the Rising Dawn, her being dead would be a strong blow against the organization. But then, with what he knew now, would that be such a good thing, would it be what Rhysol wanted? Suddenly, a whole new way of serving Rhysol came to his mind, while also making him feel... New... Like for the first time he and Rhysol were sharing a mind, and he understood him so well, and in turn it seemed Rhysol understood him... He was following the logic of chaos, to come to a conclusion, which made sense within the constraints of said chaos, even if it would bring rise to nonsense in any other setting. So what was his choice? To kill her, and to "serve" Ravok, while in reality going against Chaos and Rhysol... Or to let her live, and to technically betray Ravok, while serving Rhysol and letting her do what in her mind was good and fighting Rhysol and Ravok, but was in actuality serving him. He now knew why Rhysol let them live, why he did not so easily exterminate them all... As Clyde opened the door and was ready to leave, he paused for a moment, a memory playing through his mind. Birds? He recalled hearing birds before. But how did that play in? Had that bit even been real? He turned to look back at Siriana, still alive in her bed, sleeping. He shook his head. Perhaps he would find out later. And with that, Clyde left, quietly shutting the door behind him, leaving her to serve Rhysol another day. Now a Chaon, who had realized something deep and intrinsic about Rhysol today, something which many "more devout" followers of him would never figure out in their entire lives... And yet they still believed themselves to be deeply connected to Rhysol... How foolish they were, when they did not even understand their own God. He was not good, or bad. He just was. A means to an ends, the Rising Dawn being one of those means. How chaotically logical!

[Verilian]

The decision Clyde made would have effects that would reverberate through the city in seasons to come, but he had no way of knowing what exactly those effects would be. Rhysol said either choice would bring about chaos, and that both were betrayals, but he offered no further explanation. Clyde made the best choice he could, and let her live, quietly exiting the room. At least, he tried to be quiet, but as he made his decision, a small company of soldiers were assembling outside the door. Just as he began to pull it open, the door was kicked inward, and the soldiers flooded into the room. Most of them ignored Clyde, but those that didn't quickly returned their attention to the sleeping woman the moment they sensed the gnosis mark on him. Clyde could sense theirs as well, every soldier in the room was marked. With the door thrown open and the noise of the soldiers, Siriana's eyes flew open. "Grab her," somebody shouted and pair of soldiers dove for the woman, pinning her down. Siriana struggled, but there were too many. "Don't let her escape," boomed a commanding voice as the Paladin leading the company entered the room. Even if Clyde couldn't see his face, and the singular pale eye that marked him as a second rank, he would be able to sense the more powerful Chaon through his own gnosis. The paladin walked up to Siriana, who upon seeing him cried out and shined with a bright, infernal light. Priskil's light, and every Chaon in the room, including Clyde, drew back as the light repelled them. From outside the window another soldier watched and raised his weapon, breathing into the closer end of the tube and sending a small dart through the window and into Siriana's struggling form. The dart was coated in a sleeping poison, and soon enough the light fell away and Siriana drifted off to sleep. "Take her away! The Ebonlord will want to interrogate her personally, I am sure." The soldiers took the sleeping woman away and the Paladin turned to Clyde, offering only a single line of greeting before departing himself. "Good work, soldier." It all happened very fast, and soon enough Clyde was alone again. Siriana was alive, but captured. He was a soldier now. When he finally left the room, he would discover that he was in fact in one of the many NHC apartment complexes that dotted the canals of Ravok. Finding his way home was easy enough, and when he did there were rewards awaiting him. In his room, on his bed, were two outfits. One, the customary black brigandine armor of the Ebonstryfe, something Clyde would likely only ever wear in ceremony considering his preference for robes. The other item was also black, and likely much more appealing to Clyde. It was a set of robes, dark, with intricately woven patterns throughout. In the center was the symbol of the Ebonstryfe. The robe was made of an incredibly light, yet durable material. In fact.. it was too durable for the material it was made out of. Clyde would find, if he ever chose to inspect it's aura, that it was in fact magical. That was not the last surprise he would find, however, when examining the robe. The inside was colored, similar in color and pattern to the tattered robes he currently wore, and appeared to be of lesser quality than the Ebonstryfe side of the robes. If he flipped them inside out, he would indeed find that he could wear them that way, and appear to be just a normal man in average quality robes. Clyde was now a soldier. He had rank within the city beyond just the reputation as a powerful mage. He had authority, and the respect of every citizen. He was officially part of the Ebonstryfe, and he was Chaon.

. . Thread Award . . Clyde Sullins +1 Observation +2 Philosophy +2 Logic You Question My Logic? : There wasn't much I could award here. And while you did use reimancy, it was nothing that would improve upon Clyde's skill. Lores: Bound and Tortured, Lore of Ervis Revine, Lore of Siriana, The Rising Dawn inadvertently serves Rhysol, Becoming Chaon Gnosis: Chaon - Rank 1 Injury Report: Blow to the Head - Clyde will have random headaches for the next 15 days. While not incapacitating, they will be very annoying, and will mostly happen when he concentrates on something. Wound to Ribs - While Rhysol's blood sealed the wound, it will still be sore for some time. For the next 5-10 days, any physical activity will result in intense pain. After that it will be mostly healed, but will be sore randomly throughout the rest of the season and into fall. The crimson scar that is his gnosis mark will forever remain. Other Wounds - All mostly superficial. While intended to inflict great pain, all the wounds will heal up completely in 10-20 days. Loot: 1 Suit of Brigandine Armor with the Ebonstryfe symbol on the chest. 1 Set of Magical robes (MC 3 +2 Durability, -1 Weight. The robes are light, and nearly as strong as leather armor. They can also be flipped inside out to appear as regular robes. You can pick the color.) Also, using my vastly non-superior photo-shop skills, this is what the robe looks like: Robe : http://www.mizahar.com/forums/gallery/pic.php?mode=large&pic_id=24026 Notes: So this was a bit shorter than I had originally planned, but I also hadn't planned for that outburst from Clyde, and things just seemed fitting. I wont tell you if you made the right choice or the wrong one, but I will say that the people next season will see the effects of your choice. Lucky for you, you'll be far away from Ravok at that time, so if things happen to turn out terribly bad you'll be safe outside the city. Enjoy your new role as Soldier, and enjoy the robes! I know they are something Clyde could easily magecraft himself, but hey, free robes. Yay! It was fun. Keep writing! Notice As per the request of the Founders, threads cannot be graded unless your CS is up to date. This means you need to add threads to your thread list when you make new threads, keep your skills up to date, ledger, living expenses, ect. If you aren't up to date, you'll get a PM from me before i grade your thread. If you are up to date, disregard this notice.