[The Wizard's Thumb]The appendages of wizards?[Closed]

[Clyde Sullins]

36 Spring 512 Clyde had not been in Nyka for long. But his short time here, had made him feel a bit of the old feelings from Syliras... Everything was so strict... So clearcut... With the monks taking the place of the knights... He doubted it would be a place he would want to visit for to long... To stay in long term... But it might not be bad to have another place to do his magic... A place were he was well connected... A place were he had some seeds sown... So he decided, why not visit this thumb. It was supposedly some kind of magical center. Maybe he could gain a friend, or a connection there? It couldn't hurt. Really all he would be giving up would be time... A bit of effort... Make a little magic, literally, and gain some favor. So Clyde came in, looking around on the ground floor. It was a big open room, with a desk and a person sitting behind it. Possibly to give out information? He walked up to it, giving the person a smile as he asked for his information. "Hello, I am Clyde. I was told this was a place of magic? I was hoping I could perhaps work here, while I was in Nyka... I have some magical skill of my own. Though I am not really sure of who I need to talk to." He wondered if the person there was a magic user herself? It would make sense to make them at least know auristics. If they did check his aura, they would see it was heavy with magic, if for nothing else his skill in reimancy. Though he would probably work more on his magecrafting here.

[Liar]

The woman at the desk looked up from his notes. She was young, and no exception to her generation’s inherent pride; as the desk manager, she was also the gatekeeper, the only bridge between this foreign visitor and a wealth of knowledge. She rolled her eyes. “Hello, Clyde,” she groaned. “We aren’t exactly looking for support. If you haven’t noticed, you aren’t the kind of wizard we usually let wander our halls.” It was true enough. Along with the clerk, a small circle of mages in the lobby beyond were dressed in the same brown, anvil-emblazoned robes of the West Quarter’s priesthood. The visitor, on the other hand, was wearing what she could only assume were traveler’s clothes, considering that they were not the flowing flax customary of Nykan civilians. She was not allowed to turn away a curious mind, but she did not have to tell Clyde that. As he suspected, the mage would find her eyes drawn to his edges, reading the invisible information that his aura could illustrate. She seemed disgruntled by her discovery, mainly because his apparent expertise made him less deserving of her harassment than most. Should he open his eyes to her aura, he would see a novice of many disciplines, a master of none. She fidgeted where she sat, reluctantly readjusting her respects. “Here,” She pointed at a piece of long parchment to one side, then brought it before him and smoothed its edges. It listed briefly the purpose and contents of each of the Thumb’s floors. “If you’d be a little more clear of what you’re looking for, I can tell you where to go. Summoning’s downstairs, then up is Malediction, Spiritism, the rest. Seventh floor is off-limits. The rest probably have a monk or two who can help you find what you need.”

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde did notice this womans response to his appearance here, clearly not happy to see him, though not outright hostile. He simply plastered a smile on his face, not wanting to start anything, but not going to give up, clutching his staff a bit tighter in his grip. At her words, he was a bit disheartened. But he was not one to give up. She had said he was not of the usual type of wizard to work here, but she had not said he was not allowed at all. He would just have to work a bit harder then, to gain there trust. He was about to speak, when he felt a gentle brush across him, like the stroke of a finger, only just touching the edge of him. It took him a moment to realize what that meant, that his vague notion was right, this woman did know auristics, and was using it on him. But they were so close, and due to his small knowledge of auristics, he was able to feel the gentle probe on him, inadvertently. he was not all that skilled, and if she had been a bit better at it, or if she had been a bit farther away, he would likely not felt it, but conditions had been just right for him to be able to. As he opened his mind, pushing djed to his mind, focusing it in his head between his eyes, he decided to do a bit of auristics of his own. He focused on his task, keeping a picture of the woman in his mind, and focusing on it, both as a sort of meditation object, to help him focus, and for his auristics, to focus on what he was going to look at. Working up a small trickle of djed, he breathed out, and worked up his aura vision, the djed coming into his head and going through his eyes. He did not see much in her, though her did notice leftover djed remnants on her aura. He had seen this several times, and many times on his own aura, and so knew what this meant. She was a mage like him, a personal mage. That was the only thing the left such remainders on ones aura. Though the levels were not to strong, it seemed much weaker than the djed remnants on his own aura... She was not to strong of a mage then... He continued to smile at her, cutting off the djed flow to reading her aura. But then it was onward, as she pointed out a parchment to him. It seemed to be some sort of directory of the facilities. She seemed a bit more helpful now... Though her question was a good one... What did he want to do? He would have to think on that, for a chime, as he read over the parchment. Finally, he had read it over several times, and decided on an answer. "Well, I would like to learn a bit on spiritism... I have worked on it a bit... I would not mind finding a book on how to craft soulmist... I seemed to have missed that particular lesson... Glyphing... Well, I am actually quite skilled at that, though I usually use that more in conjunction with my other magics... And I am already skilled enough in that... " He grew quiet for a moment, as he read the list one final time, before a bit of excitement upon his decision came to his face. "I know, magecrafting! I am a fair hand at it, I would not mind donating my services to creating something you might need made. Though if I work on it by myself, it will take several days to finish it... I would not be able to complete it today... But that seems for know like the most useful of things." What he had spoken was the truth though. It would easily take 3 days of work, focusing on just his magecrafting, to the exclusion of all else, to make even a level one item by himself. Though if he worked with someone else, the time for that would be cut down. oocOh wow, I totally said that randomly, about her knowing auristics, I had no idea she actually did! That worked out well by chance.

[Liar]

Her eyes might have rolled, if she knew anything less about this stranger. Instead the monk stared at his face with strained patience, hearing but not quite listening to his wandering mind it mumbled from his mouth. He might feel a few more threads of djed monitoring the inconclusive edges of his aura, but her investigation did not seem to produce much else. She waited a moment after he stopped talking, as if to make sure he would not interrupt her. “Donate...” She reflected. “It is a privilege to work with the mages at the Thumb. They would be donating their time to you, if anything.” A sigh. “As you can see, magecraft resources can be found on the sixth floor. The stairs are that way.” Her hand flew toward a door to Clyde’s left, to clarify. Her face softened to something almost like civility then, as if to celebrate his impending absence. As she lowered her arm, she concluded, “Any further questions can be answered up there.” And then her head dropped to examine the papers that had occupied her attention before his interruption. All that was left to do was climb. The stairs were not steep, but they wrapped around the circumference of the building; his six-story path would take some time, if not effort. The passage was dark and narrow, with meager light shining through the occasional window. Somewhere around the fifth level, another man blocked his path. He was descending noisily, frustrated with something. He wore a dark tunic, made of the same material from which all Nykans seemed to make their clothes. When he saw Clyde he stopped, blocking the Syliran’s path. “You. You’re going up to Magecraft, yeah?” He did not wait for an answer. “Listen. This Ilune woman, she’s not who you think she is. She’ll use you, if you let her. She’ll let you work here, and then she’ll say your work is hers. She is not to be trusted. Listen,” he repeated, and he took Clyde’s arm with more urgency than hostility. “There’s a dagger with an ivory hilt and a dog’s head pommel. I made it by myself, with my materials, but she says that it belongs where it was made. I was willing to accept that, until she started claiming that it was her own craft, the fake. She is the archmage; no one else will believe me. If... if you can get it for me, you would be amply rewarded. No one would have to know.”

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde felt a few more instances, of the woman's aura brushing against his, though little else. He did not really have to much to hide from her, that she was likely to see, so he would not probe further. Also, he doubted he would learn much more than was so clearly obvious, with his current skill, unless he strained himself. Though he did wonder what the issue was, saying they would be donating there time to him, by allowing him to assist them. Please, he was no master magecrafter, but neither was he a initiate, newly introduced to the craft. Any help he gave would be donating his time and effort, it was not like he would be a hindrance. But he let it slide, a small bit of anger smoldering in his belly. Then it seemed he was dismissed, since he had stated were he was headed, and so he went, making his way to the magecrafting floor... Which was a long way up... While Clyde was not in horrible shape... He also was not one who spent a lot of time working up his muscles and being physically strong... He was soon out of breath, and his legs were getting a bit sore from the repetitive motion... He was starting to believe it went on forever, going on up to the sky... He almost did not see the man that blocked his path, and started talking to him. He nearly walked right into him. Though once he started to listen, well he was not sure what exactly to believe... But it was curious... Something about a dagger... One that he said he had made, and she had taken saying it was her own craft... And there it was... He wanted him to take the dagger... How did he even know if the dagger really was his... Did he really want to risk alienating the people of Nyka, and the head of the Thumb, by taking something... He spoke to him, trying to pull out of his grip, and give a neutral answer, that did not commit to much. "I will make sure to keep my eye out for it. Though taking it from the tower... Well the only thing I have as proof is your words... Is there any more you could tell me, that would prove you were the crafter that enchanted it? I doubt I would be allowed to just take such a thing, let alone to leave the tower with it. I will keep my eyes open for it... But I need a bit more, before I can try and just take such a thing." His eyes darted upward, to the next floor, and out of this stuffy cramped stairway... This was really not the best place for an extended talk... He had just wanted to simply go up and enchant something... Not stir up trouble in the city...

[Liar]

The man shrugged and laughed like he had expected the question. He answered it hastily, and it was clear that his frustrations were aimed more at the mages on the next floor than on the one before him. “I know exactly how. If you bother to ask, she will tell you that its edge can only cut when she uses it, but it is more complicated than that. We worked for hours to give it a third level: not only can it differentiate between users and toggle off its function, but it can change its affinity.” He was clearly very excited about the idea, more so than even the thought of recognition or revenge. His voice lowered when he said the next part, the punch line to the joke that was his passion. “If you can manage to hold it for twelve chimes straight, it will only cut for you, instead. If will be... loyal to you, as it were.” Eyebrows bobbing at the secret, he finally stepped aside. There was not much room to squeeze by, but it was enough to make the gesture gracious. Before Clyde could think to take the space that was offered to him, his nameless advocate would attempt to step forward, making for his retreat. The fervor in his request was already escaping him, bound to be replaced by acceptance in defeat. “But if that’s not proof enough for you, then fine; I will never get it back, and my name will never be associated with my work.” Oh, but it was not gone entirely. “What do you say?”

[Clyde Sullins]

As the man laughed, and spoke to him... Clyde was started to wonder how sane he was... He could be sane and telling the truth... Or he could be insane, and believed he was telling the truth... Or he could be lying, and trying to get him to steal this magical object for him... He tried to work out something... What exactly the enchantment was that had been laid upon it... Which he was not exactly certain of. It was a dagger... According to the woman, it was tied to her, maybe by blood, so that only she could use it... That was a common way of protecting an item, so only the one person could use it... He understood making the object intelligent, so it could tell apart users, and turn its magical ability on and off... He was not sure that a third level in intelligence would allow all that he said... But it could be possible... What he was not certain of, was what he meant by affinity... He did noticed how excited the man was, at his own genius, in the way the item had been constructed... Though speaking of bells... Generally, when speaking of crafting time, for magecrafting, one spoke of in days... Unless you had a large team all working on the one item, each step required days of work, each following step taking exponentially longer... So either he was mixing up his references, saying bells instead of days... Or they had a huge team working on this item... Or he was lying... He did find his secret intriguing... That all it took was to hold it for 12 chimes, and its loyalty shifted to that person... That was truly an inspired idea, to have it transition that way... He was not sure if he would ever use it, but he could certainly file it away as interesting... "If what you say is true, well, that would change things. I will certainly try and figure out the truth of the matter... And if this secret is true, and she lies of it, and does not know of how it really works... It would seem to prove that you are telling the truth." "I will do my best to find it and inspect it, and to ascertain your words as true or false." Clyde looked the man in the eyes... He did not know if he spoke truth or lies... But it would not hurt to try and help him out, and ascertain the facts. Then an idea came to his mind. Auristics! He himself had used auristics, during the process of making a magic staff, as the personal magic he had used to activate and imbibe it with the power of the d-wire. And in doing so, he had noticed the traces being instilled in it... The imprints within the magic of the item... It was not the same as with personal magic, but the crafting process for making world magic items still left a trace, an imprint on the item... Faint, but noticeable once you knew how to look... In magecrafting, when deepening the djed pathways, when working on the item, a trace of the wizard who had imparted it, was left... And it could usually be distinguished from others... it was not foolproof, but it was sort of like a signature... Each wizard left a slightly different one on it... He knew what his trace looked like... And he knew the trace of his teachers... Perhaps he could... It might be possible... Just slightly possible, to ascertain who had worked on it, and who had worked on it more... But no... That would be difficult... Since you could not tell just by looking at a persons aura... You had to watch as they imbued a item with magecrafting, and then look at the trace... Which would mean the only way to know by that method, would be to see either the woman, or this man, enchant another item... But that might be possible... He would keep it in mind... "If you are telling the truth, I will try to set things right." As he said this, even he did not know yet if he was saying this truthfully, or just to humor the man.

[Liar]

He was nodding furiously, as if incessant agreement would somehow persuade the foreign mage. Stepping tentatively backward on the narrow decline, he mentioned, “Oh, do not underestimate Azura Ilune. She knows full well what it does, and she’s as ambitious as any mage. She will lie about this, at least.” He paused, reconsidering his own words. He had stopped three steps beneath Clyde, more eager to get his story straight than to leave the woman he hated. “But she... she is talented. You will learn a lot, if you are careful.” With a final nod and a grateful smile, the man said, “I thank you. I know I am a stranger, but this means a lot to me. I swear I speak the truth. Thank you.” Then he turned and ducked his gaze toward the stair beneath him, and disappeared behind the bend. A relatively short stretch upward would lead Clyde to the sixth floor door. It was simple and unadorned, but it was the only one in sight. Entering would show him a relatively sparse room full of the sort of platforms and materials that would be familiar to any level of magecrafter. The dog’s-head dagger sat on a table near the entrance, along with a careful but unofficial arrangement of freshly crafted items. On the walls and were hung more impressive specimens, and it could be assumed that even more lurked behind the rows of doors beyond. One woman stood alone at the opposite end of the room, focused in some book. Azura was dressed in the robes of a monk, but her air was far from saintly. She turned to the door when she heard it open, and the scowl that had carved itself on her face did not soften entirely. “Can I help you?” OOCIf you would prefer to continue the conversation with the man, feel free to PM me and I will edit. I just wanted to give you room to move on, too. :)

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde simply nodded as the man repeated his warning of Azura Ilune... Though an ambitious mage? He barely kept from cracking a smile... Was there any other kind? What person that was not ambitious would have the drive to go through the work and pain of becoming a powerful mage... In that regard, he thought he and this woman had something in common... Besides... He had already paid for his magic... He was not due... Maybe if nothing else, that would keep him from having to pay a further cost, or a greater loss... But he knew... It was only a matter of time... Till he tried one step further, and ended up further than he could return from... Finally though, he could head upward and out of the cramped corridor. Best not to let his thoughts wander such depressing things... He had to much to do today, to waste time in contemplation and inner monologue... Clyde came in through the door, to see a sparse room, with a series of platforms on the ground... That was what chiefly took in his notice... These also seemed to be set up well to be used with glyphing, to block out foreign djed which could ruin magecrafting products, and which also made this branch of magic so deadly when there was a mistake. All it took was to enter the room, and Clyde could feel the magic in the air, coming off of the multiple enchanted objects within... He could feel the magic slip across his aura as it met, like a soft sheet barely coming into contact with his skin... So light, but there... Surely if he tried to use his aura vision right now, it would be overwhelmed by all of the djed hidden in the depth not visible by mundane eyes... Then he heard speaking, and his attention was drawn from the scene, to a woman standing there, a very serious one, who looked like she spent most of her time not being satisfied with others... And she certainly had an air of superiority and leadership... Or he would have normally thought that... But everyone here seemed to speak like that, so he could not be certain. Clyde did his best to look the woman in the eyes, and fix a serious look on... He managed if nothing else to not come off as angry, though he also could not manage a happy look with all that weighed on him... He managed a passable look of neutrality and seriousness, that might be mistaken for apathy. "Actually, I was hoping to help, which I suppose you can help me to do. I am a reasonably skilled wizard and magecrafter, and I was hoping to volunteer my aid for another project. Or perhaps I could lead one. I have recently learned how to craft magic staffs..." Clyde added this last bit, for a combination of effects... Being able to make a magic staff if nothing else proved that he was as he said a reasonably good magecrafter... A novice new to the craft would not be taught such a thing, it was to complex... And also, it was a relatively rare skill, even for a magecrafter. And if the woman did not know how to make one, she might jump at the chance to be taught by Clyde.

[Liar]

Azura’s hand lingered atop the book she had been reading, as if this visitor was only a temporary nuisance. Her eyes dipped into assessing crescents above a mouth that curled into a less than genuine smile, and a silent half-chime passed between them. Finally, apparently done with her initial judgments, she let her hands fall to her sides and stepped toward him. “You will not lead a project here,” she answered, and her words dripped with the slow simplicity that one would expect from an impatient parent to a mistaken child. “Not your first one, at least.” Though hardly an aurist, the archmage could recognize the ambition in a man who claimed a feat as great as creating a magic staff—and the talent in one who could live up to his words. In reality, she was perfectly willing to act the assistant to an unfamiliar mind, if only to learn from it and improve her own experience. Alas, pride would not allow her to admit it aloud. “But I will gladly supply our materials to a mage such as you, with the appropriate supervision.” There was a wink in her voice, though her eyes failed to complete the gesture. They looked around the room, catching on various raw materials and finished products where they sat or hung. Her attention settled on a cleared space beyond them both, the pedestal with single, obvious purpose. The glance was half a question, half a proposition. “Did you have anything particular in mind?”