Completed [IHL] Crafting Greatness

Magecrafting

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

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[IHL] Crafting Greatness

Postby Elias Caldera on May 28th, 2014, 9:37 am

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7th Day of Summer, 514 AV

The blade shimmered gloriously in the dim light of the laboratory, the exquisite craftsmanship gleaming from shining tip to stalwart hilt. Faint glimmers of candle light danced off the wicked looking edges, framing the flickering masterpiece of deadly beauty in fleeting shadows. It practically hummed as Elias ran his fingertips across the steel, so wrought with potential and eagerness to be perfect was it. Its creator must have forged such a piece confident it would never need to be changed, oh so content with its perfection.

A terrible tragedy for whoever that fool was, because that was exactly what Elias was going to do; he was going to change it.

More than that. He was going to make it better!

It didn’t fill him with as much trepidation as it once had, working in this place... for that man. He’d been doing it now for a while now, taking on all the menial duties and the trash commissions of which Lazarin considered too mundane for a mage of his caliber to be bothered with. One might be surprised at how many such requests would come in by the end of the day, but once you realized that almost every paladin and above was expected to wield a special weapon or two after achieving their rank, the abundance of mage crafting became stunningly clear.

Elias cast his eyes towards the window and to the the dark stones of the institute’s wall outside. Beyond were the dull gray skies and the meandering dark clouds that filled it. Elias was fairly certain the sun was out there, hiding beyond some horizon somewhere. He didn’t enjoy working so late, but his professor had been adamant concerning the time restraints centered on today’s particular job, so he obeyed despite his chagrin.

Twisting his neck from side to side and shuddering at the pops his own actions had elicited from the weary bones, Elias began to fully devote himself to the work, to the lab, and to the weapon in general. First and foremost, he needed more light. There were candles about the room, and Elias wasn’t about to miss an opportunity at warming himself up -both figuratively and literally- with a little bit of reimancy before he got under way. A number of larger candles lay about the room besides the few he had lit, strewn around in apparent haphazardness but in actuality were all exactly where they served best. The lamps lining the walls would themselves come into play as well as the young mage began to manifest the feeling of power and odd delight from within himself. The djed came bubbling forth, eagerly pouring from and across his very soul like the crimson blood through his veins. It slithered out from his skin, leaking free from arms and fingers both until its master had summoned enough. Next came the shaping, the corrupting -the res. Two long snakes of it had been formed by the end, each one swirling around Elias’s head like serpents in the lake. First came the initial layer then quickly followed by the second over that. A blink of an eye later and both swooping tendrils burst into flame as the mage ignited the second layer, leaving the first completely intact and still utterly under his control. It was a matter of child’s play to have the two burning creatures under his command then fly over every wick in the laboratory like a surgeon’s knife across tender flesh.

The room brightened to his satisfaction and now that it was blanketed in a snug coat of warmth from all the fires, and with the environment now made pleasant and acceptable, Elias turned his attention to the commission.

The extended hilt of the weapon, a claymore for all intents and purposes, was elaborately chased with carvings, obviously detailing a long and bloody story of what the ravokian was becoming more and more convinced was the origin, not of the weapon, but of its first bloodthirsty wielder. He traced each engraved chapter like he would an enrapturing novel’s pages, running his fingers over the ridges and rises of it, while taking great care to avoid the terribly sharp edge at the same time.

He’d never truly been as taken with them as his father or uncle had, their bulky size and encumbering weight was more than even the long sword favoring ex-apprentice could endure. It certainly didn’t mean he had never seen them in use before however. Many paladins and hopeful soldiers would often hone their skills with a chosen weapon to a point of awe inspiring finesse. Big as they were, each giant sword could easily be turned into deadly arcs of biting steel, honed to a razor-sharpness that was belied by their size and shape. Vicious, dangerous and efficient at their purpose, the weapon didn’t define the soldier, his skill did. The blade just had a tendency to make it look cool in the process.

Experimentally, standing in the middle of the laboratory so as not to hit anything expensive – which was to say, so as not to hit anything – Elias hefted the weapon and gave it an experimental swing. It wasn’t as heavy as he’d expected, and as he took a second swing, his amiably flowing motion enhanced and extended by the length of the weapon, the Caldera turned his playful strike into a sweeping slash that threatened to nearly send him toppling over with a yelp.

After a few more self-indulgent stabs and cuts across empty air, Elias carefully set the sword down back unto the pedestal, eventually managing to fixate his attention back to the matter at hand.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 3:48 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:03 am

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They wanted speed.

Not a surprising request given the finely crafted weapon he had been graced with the company of this day. A great sword was heavy, powerful, and destructive. This one had even had the added benefit of being sharpened like a regular blade, a curious thing to conceive until now. Whoever intended to wield this bladed beast dared to swing it like a regular sword, slashing and stabbing with the same voracity of a smaller, more agile weapon… This was going to be an interesting challenge.

Elias dropped into a chair with a resounding thud and brought out a thin, spindly thing of a notebook that had been cordially left on the desk for his use. Devoid of any notes or any words, the book had been butchered time and time again by students and teachers alike, all pouring their knowledge and ideas into its pages before promptly ripping those pages out so that no other could have them. Elias wondered just how many countless, magnificent blueprints and mystical revelations had been jotted down between the leather bindings before being barbarically torn apart for the sake of secrecy and suspicions. He regarded it with a kind of fondness draped in despair, as he knew soon he’d be committing the same grievous act to its aged annals soon enough.

Today, Elias planned to copy the images he had swirling around in his mind to paper, an uncommon occurrence to say the least, for a mage who always favored the more exciting, immediate, and direct approach.

That mage was being replaced, just like the great sword, with a better one.

Having a basic design to work, refine and improve upon would speed the whole affair up immensely. Efficiency. Efficiency and perfection was what he was striving for, and there was no point in wasting time on problems he’d be able to avoid in the future with a simple plan or two now. First things first; the instrument that would keep the whirling djed corralled and maneuvered to its proper purpose rather than seeping out all over the place. Elias would draw a quick diagram of what was to become of the room’s layout when he was done, all those sweeping arcs of containing glyph-work working the djed like a potter worked clay. It would be intricate and time consuming, but he knew he’d secretly enjoy every minute of it… though he would never admit as much. Glyphing was the enemy of a punctual magesmith after all, and it had a troubling tendency of boring many to the point of tears. Regardless, it shouldn’t have been be too hard, speed was the only thing he had to worry about this time.

A fresh sheet of paper eventually found its way to the work desk once he was ready. Quills were laid out and inkwells swelling with rich black ink soon joined them. Elias almost savored the moment. It was a little wavering bubble of soon to be perfection in the chaos of Rhysol’s world outside. It wouldn’t last, of course, but for now the chimes and bells melted away as everything else faded from concern and all attention shifted focus on the paper before him. Thick and rounded the mage mused, working busily through his plan as it practically wrote itself in brilliant, dancing flames within his mind and then again in ink on the page.

It was mesmerizing to see the incoherent babble of ideas and machinations take form as his hands darted from ink well to parchment. The runic structure shimmered and danced in his brain, unfurling free and clear from his pen’s tip with ease. A barrier would require stability and security above all else as speed would likely be dangerous to contain, especially when coupled with the swiftness and power of the strikes he’d need it to handle. An alteration to the general structure might be in order, he pondered silently, casting his mind back through the old years of diligent, if not unwelcome, glyphing practice he had performed in Zeltiva.

Thoughts soon meandered over all the different ways that a runic setup could be arranged. Circles were the most common, naturally. The ease of movement made them the first choice both consciously and unconsciously. There were however, other methods for those with the patience and skill to weave longer glyphic routes and incorporate the varied, unstable details of their shapes into the tapestry that was the runic language.

The essence of speed itself, it was a humorously grand thought, but one not so funny when it came time to deduce it’s intricacies… How was he going to manage this?

Multiple barriers! The thought suddenly dawned on him. Working djed into speed itself was, even to someone not entirely experienced with it, obviously going to be dangerous and erratic. Taking that realization to its logical conclusion simply lead to a better, stronger barrier. So, stronger walls to keep the djed in, fine, but that was just the skeleton of this great beast. There was so much that could and would go on inside a barrier, after all, and as Elias knew, that kind of chaos could often make even the greatest of runic circles worthless and all but irrelevant.

That wasn’t going to happen though, not on his watch.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 2:16 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:03 am

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Pushing thoughts of all else to the back of his mind, Elias cleared his head, slowly letting everything but the task at hand flutter and fade away into the void as he began to focus. With the last distractions finally disembarking, djed eventually began to uncurl from within him in a whirring tide. Completely controlled and absolutely obedient, the magic became the unseen, arcane slave to his whims. The possibilities became infinite and endless as the power trapped inside his soul was flushed into the forefront of his senses. There was so much he could do, so much he should and would do, but for now, all Elias needed was the sight beyond sight, the ability to see the changes his actions and magical maneuverings had wrought on the world around him. He needed to guide the manifestation of the runic masterpiece that would see to the creation of the enhanced blade, and the best way to do that was with an eye for djed.

Admittedly, Elias was growing ever better with glyphing as he was auristics. Put a piece of chalk in his hand and the young man could work up a storm of runes in a matter of a few bells. He may have adored the Defiler, but in the magesmith’s lab, disorder had to be torn out -root and branch- and cast aside, left to wither under Syna’s light. Nothing could be permitted to jam or obscure the delicate workings of his painstakingly crafted sigils, and so it helped that he was constantly getting better, for it all had to be able to withstand the magnificent forces unleashed while he worked with powerful djed, fusing and forcing, splitting and weaving, and pounding and pummeling until it bent completely to his will, and none other’s, the untamed madness of Rhysol included. For that to happen however, the glyphs and the sigils they formed had to work in harmony, there could be no dissension among the chalked lines or the shining conduits they forged in the magic coursing against them.

Now, the behavior of speed was not something he was entirely unfamiliar with, but never before had the magesmith implemented it to such a high degree, hence all the planning and the unprecedented level of precision beforehand. That said, there would always be problems. Combining individual runes into the elaborate network of sigils and relays still needed rigorous, repetitive planning. Planning that he’d written out again for the most part in the notebook.

Like metioned, the viewing of auras was also become second nature to the mage, and as he activated that next, more than just his vision was illuminated to the light of auras. Unfortunately for the time being, it was through his brown eyes that Elias saw the furthest into the secret depths of the world beyond the blind, not his other senses. The Caldera allowed himself to plummet in this colorful world, eager fingers reaching out and twining around the brush set nearby for just this purpose.

Bold, powerful and commanding strokes initially set down the fundamental boundaries of the glyphs that simply stated ‘this far, and no further.’ While inexplicably well done if he did say so himself, taken by itself it was just a scribble on the floor. The line was still a meaningless bit of white on stone, but once Elias had enriched its surfaces with glyph upon glyph until the runic nature became clearer, it would become so much more. Carefully, Elias overlaid his sketched plan from the book onto the world in front of him.

Edged hexagons was what he pictured, small shimmering runes joining and flowing together to create the greater containing shape. While spheres were some of the most stable shapes in all of magic, this sort of setup absolutely called to the magesmith for some reason, and as he had come to learn, defying hit gut instinct in these things often meant defying destiny. Something about them was comforting, convincing Elias they were better to withstand the massive djed fluxes that would evolve from his hammer strikes. Stability and resistance weren’t the only things required in a magecrafter’s wards, however. There had to be purification too, the ability to grab and twist stray bursts of djed, to run mad magic through a web of frustratingly difficult to pronounce Nader Canoch runes until it was rendered harmless and flexible, then finally released and channeled back into useful power instead of pointless, potentially harmful djed.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 2:28 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:04 am

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The brush danced in his grasp as it swirled and dotted the tile floor with torrents of paint. There were defensive barrier runes; triangles and spheres along with all manner of other shapes, each one full of intricate and detailed brushwork the likes of which conjured up crystal clear images of defense and protection in the mage’s mind as he plotted each stroke. Like the lake around Ravok and the walls around Syliras, they would guard.

Perspiration beaded his brow as he drew and drew. A cramp or two even took root, but Elias pressed on unabated, so lost was the young man in the glyphic demands of the craft. All this, and he was still only on the main circle, and even then only its outline. It was just too important to rush. This took time and patience.

It took so much bloody patience...

A bell or so later and his runes were a little more than half completed. Elias let out a sigh and took a step back to contemplate the barrier ring he had just formed on the floor, reaching within the depths of his soul as he did so to pull forth the next tool he would need for the task. Gratefully, auristics was a huge help in the whole delicate operation of Magecrafting as a whole, and the magic within him did as he bid it to, rushing into his senses and taking control. Elias was able to assess, even with the subtle currents of the incomplete glyphs at his feet, where he would need to focus his attentions on next. He examined deeper and further still, the ever present help of the sight beyond sight drenching the world in a million shades of melting colors and hues. The shivering seas of churning djed that crawled and writhed under the mages djed charged glare told him, in the sweetest of whispers, where and what he would need to do next and why. Once all that had been established and settled, Elias could get back to the meat of the work, fleshing out the solid glyphic skeleton he’d laid down with all the arcane artwork he’d need. In the end the idea was to simply make the magic flow with his, cajoling it into going where he wanted it to and nowhere else.

Swirling patterns and zigzagging causeways, those were the forms his sigils took next as he let the impressions slide from his thoughts, down his arm, and out through his brush tip, his hands striving excitedly to follow the patterns that blossomed in his mind. This was the reason every wizard’s runes were unique and disparate, and Elias had learned long ago never to resist when instinct desired to paint the picture for you. Concepts and meanings were subtly different to each and every person after all, and that truth took physical form when it came to glyphing.

On hands and knees once more, carefully dancing between slowly drying lines of paint, Elias crawled and perspired in equal measure until his eyes stung from both the djed lording over his every sense, and the salt of his sweat dripping into his eyes. He furiously blinked it all away time and again as he strove for inhuman perfection in the complex array of circles, the outer one protective and purifying, the inner one containing and directing. It wasn’t long however, before a bone deep ache had settled into Elias fingers and hands. Luckily, by the time the pain became a bit too much, he was already satisfied with the complex glyphic machination now glowing beneath him, just waiting for the final activating surge that would bring it to full reality.

Indeed, he was nearly prepared for that wonderful step, but there were still a few crucial things that needed to be added to the mix first.

Soon though… soon he would be ready.


----------------------


Locating all the ingredients he demanded had proven breathtakingly aggravating and had required nearly another whole bell of his time just to track them all down. It seemed only by the grace of Rhysol did he finally locate everything he needed, but not before annoyance and wariness had soured his mood completely. Book keeping needed to be far better om the IHL, that was for darn sure. When I have my own lab, everything will be perfect and in its place. Everything. Shaking his head in quite irritation, Elias gingerly placed the great sword onto the pedestal at the center of his intricate setup, the very focal point of the glyphs.

Stepping back from his handiwork, Elias regarded the whole of it carefully, stalking the outer edges with the immense care of a predator coming in for the kill. Eyes both mundane and extraordinary were both put to use in spotting the out of place, the imperfect, and the just plain wrong. Adopting auristics for so long was beginning to tire the mage, as was the case when using any kind of magic for long periods of time, but he was near the end of it now, and so the Ravokian persevered under the strain, intent on finishing the day strong and proud.

Perfect Elias concluded, finishing his rounds and coming to a content halt of his scrutinizing investigation. Now it was just a matter of letting it sit and charge.

Tomorrow the real fun would begin.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 2:38 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:04 am

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8th Day of Summer, 514 AV

It was another exceptional and sanctimonious day in the most hallowed city of Ravok, the kind that was just perfect for magecrafting. Then again, every day was perfect for it in Elias’ eyes. It was the greatest of talents, the very thing which made magic worthwhile in the first place, and there was nothing quite as satisfying as the knowledge that one had history very much on their side in such thinking. With a chipper smile on his lips and the resolute stride of man on a mission, Elias strolled into the IHL and the lab proper, breathing deep of the heady scent of djed filling the air.

Yes” The mage muttered aloud, his smile broadening. “This will indeed be a perfect day.

Difficult, demanding, and absolutely unforgiving of mistakes were all thing that made the art so terrifying for the uninitiated, but the thrill of getting it right, of seeing the mundane change to become something truly extraordinary. That was where Elias and others like him found their joy and determination, for at the heart of the craft was where miracles were hammered into shape and sent forth to make their mark on the world. With that in mind and his gaze every so often flittering over to the sword he would so be working on, Elias walked over the tool rack that held some of the most crucial weapons of his trade. Calloused fingers ghosted gently over the racks of hammers, each one heavy and bright with precious metals and promise. Elias’s hand hesitated for a moment, hovering as his brain raced to try and decide which one he would choose first.

Ah, you I think.

A silver hammer with a handle as soft as silk. Silver just felt right for speed, and so he laid hands on it tenderly at first, but was soon tossing it into the air and flipping it over his fingers so as to get a better feel for the tool. What he felt more strongly than ever however, was a hunger, an aching that now needed to be fulfilled.He snatched another two from the rack with hurried nimbleness, one small and one large, and tucked them both into his belt. With a deep breath, Elias turned and strode over to his awaiting glyphs.

With his auristic talents activated, the bright star of magic beaming out from the complex rune work on the floor was overbearing and stuffy with djed. It took time for the orgy of auras to settle into something that made any remote kind of sense, but eventually it calmed as he did, making more and more sense as the ticks ticked away. Keeping an ever watchful eye on the turbulent local currents, disturbed by his chaotic entry into the circle of runes, Elias was as careful as could be not to agitate anything else he didn’t need to. As he watched, the young man took pride in noting how his glyphs had done their job superbly, having worked hard during that night to cleanse and purify, obliterating not just the latent djed that had once occupied the room, but even the disorder his recent entry into work space had brought. Slowly but surely the disturbed magic began to lessen and diminish, their colors bleeding away into the ambient background as the turbulent flow was calmed by the infinitely patient engines of his glyphs at work.

This was the last phase of preparation he’d need to wait through, and his muscles squirmed and danced with the effort of simply keeping still when all the Ravokian wanted to do was jump in and just start already! The Caldera craved to hear the enchanted metal of his hammer sing with power and purpose, to make history with every strike and carve out a piece of immortal excellence with each true blow.

Patience, Elias. Patience…

Standing in the middle of the complex maze of runes sprawled out across the floor, Elias turned his gaze fully on the great sword, the magnificent weapon ready and waiting for his touch. Practiced fingers tightened and the magecrafter lifted his hammer, one gentle swing bringing it down upon the cold steel of the blade in a splash of vibrant colors as the auras collided.

The sound his strike made was enough to take his breath away.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 2:45 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:04 am

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Spooling magic flowed through practiced fingers as he gripped the hammer and readied for another blow. All five senses were alive with the auristic art as well, laying bare the arcane structure of the claymore he was about to work with. He could smell where the conduits ran and clustered thick, taste where they wove together into their little impenetrable networks, and hear where they were stringy and sparse, stretched almost to their breaking point.

Having such insight at his disposable meant he would know exactly where to strike to induce discord and chaos, forcing out a ripple that would reveal the djed conduits and open them fully for his manipulation, each then ready to be shaped and molded by his iron will and equally iron strikes. Heart singing in tandem with the hum of the reverberating hammer, Elias assessed the situation once more before raising the glimmering hammer on high again

The second strike, with all djed as he’d been able to cram into thing on its way down, sent ripples of phantom flames exploding outward as he brought it squarely down in the center of the great sword. Quietly, purposefully, he watched as the djed currents, suddenly stirred to life by the pang of the hammer against the steel, flared bright and hot. The first and second shots were really just a way to measure the scope and situation within the blade. They had served to verify where the areas of resistance and capitulation were, places he could dive in most easily, and places where he would need the full force of the hammer to split it open.

The ‘canvas’ of the great sword was an interesting one; a mad spiral of conduits that wove together at the wickedly sharp edges and then split into a branching mesh work to make up the rest of large weapon. Interesting was always fun... Difficult too, usually, but fun none the less.

Drawing the hammer upwards in a sweeping strike, Elias dealt a third blow to the terrible weapon. More flames crackled up and down its length, spiking and jumping wildly as the djed was skewed to unpredictable violence in the wake of his arcane assault.

Aha…” He murmured under a sharp breath.

It had taken more probing shots than normal, but now the mage was getting his eye on the whole picture at last. The peculiar shaping of the conduits demanded he take extra-long to follow glittering tracks of magic as they swirled and reverberated. Now however, he could see clearly how they responded to his touch.

The magesmith now understood what he had to do.

Each impact point afterward blazed brightly, all of which were matched by the brief and equally splendid surges that echoed off the walls of the supporting glyphs that held the magic of the sword in check. Thanks their stalwart guard, what would normally have gone spiraling over the edge and off into useless oblivion, was instead gracefully captured and redirected back to the very place they came from, making each strike ever more poignant and powerful.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 2:49 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:05 am

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It wasn’t always easy, and it wasn’t always flawless, but taking the crazed and unspooling strands of djed evoked by the strike, and then forcing every ounce of it back into the artifact was difficult and tiresome work that needed to be done. The first stages of molding the conduits meant extricating and disentangling each and every one. Sometimes, if you were fortunate or just skilled, a smith could work the natural formations the inherent djed an item had into their pattern, but for most, deciphering and undoing the endless knots was just part of the job.

Almost unconsciously, another hammer crept into his right hand as he readied himself in earnest for the business ahead. Having got the measure of the resistance he’d encounter and the density of the defiance he’d have to counteract, Elias deemed that now was the time for the charge. This next strike would be battering ram that would lay the item’s innards open to alteration and improvement once and for all. Of course, it was never as simple as one, powerful swing. No, instead it was a whole symphony of building strikes, all of which acted together to ring in the cadence of change with each blissful note of magical music.

Elias’s hands moved with liquid grace around the entirety of the sword, his hammer strokes cloaked in the hum of magic and the sticky trails of pure djed. Arms rose and fell in unpredictable rhythms, sending crackling waves of magic racing across the body of the great sword and crashing into one another, burning bright as they snapped and snarled over the weakening conduits. The chimes grew and grew into a roaring crescendo as Elias worked furiously, droplets of perspiration turning to rivers and pouring down his face as it all built to a clamoring, unstable climax. With the final trembling note, the impact of both hammers sung in wondrous chorus with one another and the whole fluctuating construct of djed that made up the sword finally buckled under the terrible force. Like glass it all came shattering to the ground, and a wave of broken and disjointed djed swept over everything, tearing and teasing at the established conduits with countless little chaotic claws. He could feel the touch of the Defiler in his work at that moment, and Elias realized then that he had been so very wrong to think the great god had no place in the magesmith’s world.

The once adamantine-like knots and weaves wavered under the onslaught for the first time, each one eventually plucked apart or snapped under the Caldera’s influence, leaving them in ruined, battered tatters. The tidal wave of his own creation rampaged ever further down the length of the great sword, spreading and mellowing as it surged before eventually crashing against the engraved hilt of the weapon and fading away entirely.

Elias released a heavy breath of air he hadn’t realized he had been holding until just then and grinned. He didn’t get to craft anywhere near as often as would have liked, and generally when he did it often left him feeling quite drained, if only emotionally. The ex-apprentice had such passion for little else like he did magecrafting, and it showed in the exhilaration he couldn't help but exude whenever he was working in the labs.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and took a momentary chime to catch his breath.

This wasn’t his first time, but the childish joy and giddiness welling up inside made it feel like it none the less.

Now… How do I make you beautiful again.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 2:55 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:05 am

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The effortless speed, elegance and proficiency at which his hands worked with were something the swordsman in him could only look upon from afar with quiet, burning jealousy. His palms were hot on the ivory handles of the hammers as he smashed and weaved across the sea of steel that was the great sword.

Speed! He silently reminded himself. They -You- wanted speed.

Swiftness! That was the essential idea that had to be kneaded in with the fast and furious flow of djed Elias’s glyphs drew up from the ingredients he had assembled earlier. Consumed as they were, their power had been churned up and spit back out unto the sword like a poultice on a wound, desperate to fill in the gaps and heal the shattered breaches. It tried to imprint itself where it could on every facet of the blade’s arcane structure until it and the sword were inseparable. If Elias allowed it, the magic would become part of the weapons very core identity, defining how it moved, how it felt, and every single action it made from then on. He would authorize such a merge in the end, but to do so now would leave the blade imperfect and open to malformations in the conduits. No, not until the very in end in which he was deftly certain his work was done and all was in place would the smith cease his thundering hammer blows.

Even at this early stage, though, it was gratifying to see the very first inklings of the speed already trying to take root. Indeed, it seemed to leap like wildfire to the artifact's own conduits given only the smallest amount of encouragement. This provided a new challenge that the fledgling mage wasn’t accustomed to; keeping the djed flows under control instead of what he usually had to do, which was force them into an unstable frenzy so he could shape them.

Like he had said, interesting but fun.

It took precision and diligence to gain control of the constant flow, and keeping an eye on every facet of the blade’s coursing supply of malleable djed would have been near impossible had he not been practicing with his auristic talents as of late. The enhancement to his senses kept him meticulously aware of every eddy and wave there was to be had, and he used that to break off great chunks of the magic at a time in an attempt to make it all a bit more manageable. If he didn’t, Elias feared he would lose control entirely of the frantic and turbulent waves that would end up simply destroying rather than creating.

Elias could only imagine what Lazarin would do to him if he somehow broke the very thing he was working on.

Shuddering ever so slightly, Elias quickened his ‘attack.’

Djed slid smoothly into the rent conduits of the great sword, and, under his acute guidance, it began to take shape as he wished and willed.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 3:05 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Elias Caldera
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:06 am

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The thundering crescendo of hammer meeting steel saturated the room and seeped into every facet of Elias’s being. At the point of impact, every blast of force being flashed into djed rang and chimed around him as he worked quickly, the crackling waves of magic rushing down the great sword from tip to hilt. Twisted and untangled by Elias’ subsequent strikes, each one spat out the unwanted and gave the remaining a purpose and position until the conduits began to thrum faster and faster. The mage began to streamline the whole affair, painstakingly smoothing down the rough edges of the nconduits so as to lay the groundwork for even finer work down the line.

With hammers blazing in his hands, their forceful glow had become painfully bright to his auristic sight as they emptied themselves of the last dregs of djed. His fingers pained him something fierce after so long and were pulsing to the manifold rhythms of his strikes, the phantom impacts still thrumming up his arms. Perhaps that was a good a sign as any that he needed a moment of rest. Let’s just see what I’ve accomplished… Yes, that was what he needed, a little step back to assess progress and a breather to go along with it.

Collecting himself took a long chime and many deep breaths. The struggle to uncurl his fingers one at a time from the hammers startled him at first, but he managed to lay them carefully down on a nearby workstation with a little effort. A gargantuan sigh escaped his lips next as he attempted to pop his back out of the funk it had fallen into.

Yes, it was definitely time for a break.

Most of the ingredients surrounding the pedestal, the source of the djed brought into the item, had long since collapsed under the strain, most of them fading into dust and ash the instant after Elias had begun his forging. All their djed had been drained and repurposed, either by Elias’ hammers, or by the gentler, more methodical method of the complex glyphic sprawl emblazoned upon the floor all around his feet.

To regular eyes, aside from the varied and dilapidated assortment of ingredients in their elaborate focus circles, absolutely nothing else appeared to have changed. But to an aurist’s enhanced senses like Elias’s, there was a definite sensation of speed in the very air he breathed. Magic coursed along the newly formed conduits with a palpable ambition and a quick, elusive slickness that wasn’t there before. It was… incomplete however, incomplete, and not at all as fluid as he had imagined it in the beginning. The djed slowed and sped up again unpredictably as it passed through different parts of the weapon, and whilst that chaos might have seemed beautiful to a true worshiper, unpredictability wasn’t what he desired.

The Ravokian grimaced as he realized he’d need to wait for the conduits to cool off before he could launch another worthwhile attack on their structure. So, for the time being Caldera could do nothing more but resign himself to what many magesmiths would consider the absolute worst part of the craft…

The dreadful waiting.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 4th, 2015, 3:10 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Postby Elias Caldera on July 3rd, 2015, 5:06 am

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9th Day of Summer, 514 AV

Another day came and went by where the most Elias had ever been called upon to do was keep an eye on his smoldering creation. Helpless to do anything else, the fledgling mage simply did as Lazarin had ordered after the man had come in to check his progress; “watch and wait… and try not to burn my damn lab to the ground while you’re at it, Caldera!”

He was at his wits end.

The waiting game was not one that Elias had ever been particularly good at, despite being raised a soldier in the most sacred army of his lord. He had never been good at sitting on his heels then, and it was even worse now. He groaned and shook the approaching thoughts away before they could take hold of his wandering mind. Introspection only ever led to melancholy, and that wouldn’t do, not when there was so much still to be done… eventually… Hopefully.

The mage shuddered visibly as he made his way into the lab. The air was devoid of latent djed, but that didn’t mean they could completely smother the power of the weapon nor the raw magic coursing through its ethereal veins. Despite that wonderful feeling, all Elias felt at that moment was a wavering sense of relief knowing that nothing had exploded or been teleported to a different world while he had been getting lunch. The IHL was a great place, don’t get it wrong, it was just that it was also a nerverackingly magical place as well, and such places were prone to all manner of strange and terrifying accidents, some of which he himself had even caused once upon a time.

With his nerves eventually settled by the sight of the sword, the young man felt a bubbling swell of pride in his chest as he tiptoed between the glyphs dominating the tiled floor beneath him. It was finally ready to be worked on again.

Before the hammers sang out once more and sealed the fate of the enchanted weapon, the mage opted to give the item one last good, scrutinizing look over. That was less out of pride and more out of a sense of just plain self preservation. He wasn’t sure what that bastard Lazarin would do this his hide if the old sorcerer ever saw a product not up to his absurd standards. That, and there was no joke in giving a servant of Rhysol a substandard item. Such a thing spat on the order of the Ebonstryfe and all it stood for, and that was something Elias, despite his painfully estranged relationship with the warriors of Ravok, would never even consider.

It had to be right, for his sake, their sake, and the city’s sake.

Elias blinked once and his senses were drowned in a cascade of color and auras. Willingly, the aurist submerged himself in the intangible world and his focus fell on the shining blue aura of the great sword until he could see nothing but its shimmering grace. Filtering through the rush of information took a few moments as so many impressions and novels worth of knowledge came hurtling at him. He narrowed and honed his sight beyond sight, parrying aside the unnecessary and the unwanted, leaving only the weapon and its restructured djed as the sole focus of his vision.

It was spectacular to behold.

The speed had taken hold like a weed, spreading to all parts of the sword and ingraining its very essence into the engraved steel. Now it was time to polish it all off and smooth over any of the rough edges he had missed. Knots and delays in the conduits in particular had to be dealt with, making the whole thing easy for the djed within to flow with the same speed as the massive blade. Picking up his hammers, Elias got to work without another moment's hesitation.

Under the assault of his hammer, the blue-ish tint of the sword shivered and convulsed. While his eyes had told him much, it wasn’t until he was actually in contact with the enhanced steel did he truly feel the change. It was fast, sure, but more than that… it was speed.

After a few bells, things were beginning to come to a close. It had all come down to this. One last strike! One final, glorious burst of an architect’s will upon his creation… He let the hammer fall upon the last imperfect sliver of djed, and with his strike saw the last ingredient collapse into undefinable pile of grayish goop. He reeled back with the hammer and examined his work one final time.

Perfect…

Finally, it was done.
Mostly active on Sundays

Ebonstryfe | Ravok | Codex | Black Sun

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Elias Caldera
The Edgiest of Edge Lords
 
Posts: 609
Words: 696862
Joined roleplay: September 14th, 2013, 1:28 am
Location: Ravok
Race: Human
Character sheet
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Scrapbook
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Medals: 3
Featured Thread (1) Overlored (1)
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