Opportunity Seized

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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Opportunity Seized

Postby Elias Caldera on June 1st, 2015, 3:53 am

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30th Day of Spring, 515 AV


From across the lab came the familiar sound of a hammer tap, tap tapping steadily to a beat and pitch that no simple metal tool could ever be the source of. The peculiar noise didn’t so much disturb the Ravokian magesmith as much as it bothered him knowing he wasn’t the one making it. With a fractious lick of his finger, Elias turned the page on the tome which sat open in his folded lap, its old and faded letters lit only by the dim light of the lantern hanging over head.

Every once in a while Elias’s eyes would dart up over the lip of his book, the mage’s curiosity peaked by a particular note he didn’t recognize, or a thrum of stray djed he had never felt the likes of before. Lazarin often employed his assistance with many a commission and orders from the Ebonstryfe or Black Sun, but those were exclusively of a lesser importance than the usual. In fact, anything belonging to a notably important client or with a coefficient higher than three, and Elias wasn’t even allowed within ten yards of the glyphs, gods forbid he actually be trusted to assist in the magecrafting process itself.

It irked the smith to no end that he still hadn’t accumulated enough confidence from the man with his continuous dedication and all the previous demonstrations that proved he truly did know what he was doing. What would it take to finally convince the irascible bastard that it wouldn’t be the end of the world allow his student a chance to help craft beyond the simple and elementary artifacts Elias’s days in the lab were so often exclusively defined be. He disliked the crotchety old paladin thoroughly, and furthermore, he disliked how hopelessly reliant he still was to the irritable magecrafter and this Institute in helping curb his constant, desperate desire to continue his studies in the finer arcane arts. Perhaps that was why he felt so stymied and constipated –magically speaking, of course- these last few days.

Perhaps it was the nagging call of independence to which he needed to wholeheartedly embrace if he ever hoped alieve himself of such depressing, torturous confinement at the hands of his professors.

Naturally this wasn’t the first time he had such revolutionary thoughts. This same feeling of suppressed and hampered progress had taken hold of him late in his studies abroad during his time in Zeltiva as well. Of course, when the clamoring hunger for freedom and magical liberation simmered down and reason took root once more, it always became all too painfully clear why it was such a thing was impossible…

Money.

He had learned very early on why the laboratories of the famed University so often seemed unused or downright abandoned, and why so many self-proclaimed magecrafters always chose to immerse themselves in nothing but coma like study sessions for exceedingly endless stretches at a time. No one was crafting not because they simply preferred the ancient, dusty spine of an old book in their hands to that of a hammer’s mallet, but because to even begin experimenting on the smallest, meekest of artifacts was a feat that in of itself could cost thousands of golden mizas or more! Needless to say, the ex-apprentice had yet to come across a dedicated magician who wasn’t really a poor wretch behind all the learned arrogance and contempt for the mundane.

Once Elias had believed that magecrafting was the solution to the problem, and in truth it was -once upon a time- acting as something special and distracting that even a fool like he could do. That said, the art was a hobby to the studious and determined, but his experience so far was proving that if one truly ever hoped to be a practical practitioner, it didn’t matter how diligent and wise you were, for diligence and wisdom weren’t enough to afford the hefty ingredients bill that was the dark and unwanted cloud hanging over every aspiring magesmith’s naïve little head.

With a rough, mental chuckle, Elias even realized that the very tome that he was busying himself with was just another reward that wealth was responsible for. The IHL’s vast library on the magical talents of the world could only have been possible by the gracious and extensively influential gift of coin. Said book was one on the subject of magical staffs, and in particular explained how a magecrafter went about creating one. First the smith had to insert the staff in special insulated clamps, coating it in mineral powders and wrapping it in D-wire coils. After that it took two mages casting spells of different disciplines from both ends of the artifact at the same time. Interestingly enough, it also had to be created for organic materials, and organic only. Usually that meant the expensive kind of.

He sighed and nearly collapsed head first into the whirring words of book out of sheer sadness. There was nothing quite as dispiriting as coming face to face with one’s own poverty, especially when it consistently stood in the way of personal progress.

Caldera’s silent brooding was suddenly interrupted when another man, young and nervous, wandered into the laboratory after his apparent knocking had gone unanswered. The boy’s uncertain gaze fell first on Lazarin, the bearded wizard buried deep in his magical work as he hammered away at the pedestal in front of him. “Uh, Lord Lazarin. The ingredients you requested have arrived.” He uttered shakily, and Elias wasn’t sure if it was the blatant demonstration of magic that had him so unnerved, or the infamously incensed paladin who was doing it. To his credit, the stryfer never even bothered to look up, his focus so deftly attuned to his craft and nothing else. Instead professor Thadeus merely grunted something incomprehensible under his beard and waved vaguely in his assistant’s general direction. That being Elias chiefly, since no one else was there.

The young man glanced over and found the second mage in his seat on the other side of the room, brown eyes staring back at him and a mischievous grin freshly adorning his lips.

The ravokian snapped shut the tome and waved the boy over.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2015, 4:12 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Elias Caldera
The Edgiest of Edge Lords
 
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Placeholder #3

Postby Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2015, 3:56 am

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...And tell your master to make sure they’re the kind that last, understand. I don’t need my ingredients going bad the very next day. Gems and Geodes and the like, those’ll do.” Elias said, half shouting down the hallway as the messenger/delivery boy skipped away, a few extra coins sizzling hotly in his fingers courtesy of a rash Caldera trying to make sure his point got across loud and clear. A few bits of silver to make sure a request was filled out properly compared not at all the grand sum he had ultimately just signed away. One thousand gold mizas had been the cost, and one thousand is what he had promised.

The idea of handing away so much money left a pit in his belly that couldn’t have felt any deeper. Rhysol help me…

The mage wasn’t entirely sure who that money would be going to, but for as long as he could remember he had been watching that boy, or boys just like him, coming and going throughout the Institute, each time carrying inquiries and notices of delivery concerning the exorbitant amount of magecrafting ingredients needed for Lazarin to complete his artifacts in the name of the Ebonstryfe. So commonplace had the sight of them become, Elias had not once even considered questioning where they were coming from or who was sending them, let alone if he himself could get in on the action. The opportunity, much to his shame, had passed him by time and time again as fleeting feet came and went, but this time… this time he had pounced.

And for his trouble he was soon to be a great deal poorer and utterly unsure what to do next.

He needed to do some research.

Grabbing the satchel the delivery boy had dropped off first however, the fledgling mage quietly made his way back into the laboratory, certain that his entire bout of haggling and negotiations had gone completely unheard by a scrutinizing Lazarin too engrossed in his work to have bothered noticing had he even cared.

Gingerly, the Ravokian placed the satchel and its poignant arcane contents on a nearby workstation just in case the elderly mage needed to inspect it later. Naturally he had done so himself first with his own auristic talent, but that meant little to one like his professor, who made it a habit to check things twice, sometimes thrice if Elias had gotten his hands on it prior.

Shuffling as non-discreetly as his earnest excitement would allow, the mage found his way to the lab’s bookshelves and quickly began pulling down a copy of everything his mind could fathom he’d need to incite a flash of brilliance direly needed now.

Plopping down back into his old seat, Elias hurriedly began sorting through his hastily assembled collection before plucking out the first one that caught his eye. Flicking the tome open, he began turning the pages, his eyes tracking slowly over the symbols wondering as he did so who had written this; theorist or mage? The latter may have been accredited as a genius in his fields, but mages were notoriously incompetent at times when it came to the former’s job of making sure no details were lost as ideas floated from thought to pen. A theorist on the other hand, was no practical sorcerer, and their speculations were simply that, ideas, and therefore meaningless in the long run. Elias was hoping he had managed to pick an author who shared the best of both worlds, else he’d quickly need to move on to another tome.

Pushing his distracted thoughts to one side he read through the scrawling text, the words describing to him a plethora of mystical and magical things he already knew full well. The author, like most, began by describing magecrafting as a whole in their own words, the words 'Magnificent' and 'Glorious' coming up more than a few times. Nothing new there. Elias flipped the page.

What he came upon next was a section explaining the principals involved in shaping an artifact. There was of course Structural, which mainly concerned the physical aspect of an item, such as its durability, weight and so on. Then there was Intellectual, which delved into the infamously difficult task of granting awareness to the artifact, akin to what animators did with their trinkets and toys, but on a level so much grander it was more like a god giving life to its creation.

Ah, one day… He mused and flipped the page once more.

Ledger-1000 GM [MC Reagents]
- 4 SM [Delivery Boy Tip]
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2015, 4:05 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Elias Caldera
The Edgiest of Edge Lords
 
Posts: 559
Words: 613240
Joined roleplay: September 14th, 2013, 1:28 am
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Placeholder #3

Postby Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2015, 3:56 am

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His impatient search across the annals skid to an abrupt halt as he eventually reached the section concerning Gnosis marks. The author spent a number of paragraphs detailing his time among the Isur and their kingdom at the heart of the Kalea region. He had been particularly fascinated by their god given ability to consecrate their works via the mark their patron lord, Izurdin, had blessed them with. Apparently all of the divine could impart a piece of themselves on a magecrafted item if they so chose, but the mountain god and his Izentor marked were the most prominent in doing so.

It wasn’t the first time he had heard those names before. Truth be told, the name Izurdin had been so commonplace among his peers that early on in his tutelage Elias himself had succumbed to the pressure and could have sometimes been found praying to the god of strength and industry, hoping –and sometimes demanding- for guidance with his lessons whenever he felt himself faltering in class, or just in need of some divine assistance when it came to a troubling assignment.

He had learned the error of such pathetic weakness during his time in the Black Hole, but that wasn’t why he had been given pause. With his own mark coming to mind, the mage began to wonder if Viratas was the kind of divine that would care to place his grace on something as trivial as a mortal tool. Would the lord of heritage help him in constructing a-

Mr. Caldera!

Elias’s pondering had come to an abrupt and raucous halt all of a sudden and the young man nearly flew out of his chair at the sound of Lazerin’s voice booming across the laboratory. “Yes, professor?” He managed after regaining his composure. The man was glaring at him from across the shimmering pedestal, eyes dark and hard as he studied the junior magesmith for an uncomfortable chime. “Get over here.” He ordered with a strangely averse tone, as if finally relenting to some internal struggle he had been struggling with. “Unfortunatly, I need you to take over while I go hunt down ingredients I had ordered. That damn boy should have been here by now. I’ll skin him alive when I find him!

The reimancer glanced over to the table behind him where the satchel and ingredients in question sat waiting, then back to Lazarin who was already untangling himself from the glyphic structure that surrounded the base of the pedestal. “I’ll take care of it, Master Lazarin. Never fear.” The man grunted, giving Elias one last hard, threatening once over with his black eyes.

Elias could have spoken up at that point. He could have pointed out the other mage’s misplaced prize and then just gone back to sitting on his ass for the rest of the day, reading a book and wasting his life away playing second fiddle to a man he despised.

Or….

Lazarin never once set his cold gaze anywhere the satchel before he stormed out of the lab, a threat of endless suffering on his lips as he went should the student befuddle his work. A grin cut across the Caldera’s face from ear to ear as the laboratory shield closed shut behind the enraged professor. Eventually his search would prove fruitless and the old wizard would curse and stomp his way back in here, but until then, Elias was alone. Alone with his magic.

There was no way he wasn’t going to make the best of this that he could.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2015, 4:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Elias Caldera
The Edgiest of Edge Lords
 
Posts: 559
Words: 613240
Joined roleplay: September 14th, 2013, 1:28 am
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Medals: 3
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Placeholder #3

Postby Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2015, 3:56 am

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Hello gorgeous.

Mind half clouded with giddy elation, Elias’s calloused fingers danced ever so gently across the surface of each of the hammers hanging from his newly acquired tool belt. He was hovering over the shield Lazarin had been working on, eyes bright with auristics as he scanned the inner depths of the artifact in limbo.

The question at the forefront of his mind right now was a simple one; what did he do now? His senses worked tirelessly to map out the conduit network within the rounded weapon, faithfully mapping each one as he went around the entirety of the object. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to fully understand what his predecessor had been working on. Excessive durability with touch of lightweighted-ness where what was demanded of his artifact, and so that was what the smith would work on. With his teacher having already laid down the groundwork with shaping the conduits, it was the student’s task to simply pick up the stray pieces make sure all was in order.

Elias pulled free his copper hammer, the item well known for its delicate touch and finite craftsmanship. Carefully turning it over and over in his hands, the mage began by reacquainting himself with the feel of it, learning what made it unique and exquisite above all others. Its heft, feel, and the tingling warmth coursing through his arm from the powerful enchantments within quickly established a bond of familiarity between him and it.

The jungle of runes and glyphs encapsulating the shield and the pedestal is rested upon were particularly thick and labyrinthine, but Elias danced his way through the maze with a practiced grace of someone who had done this dozens of times before. One his feet had carried him to the precipice, the barely veiled genius within took hold, and the first powerful strike crashed down like the fury of lightning and thunder upon the shield’s ornate face.

The shield had to be fattened with djed first, filled to bursting in fact, before he he had arrived. The drained and empty husks of the regents that surrounded it on every side was testament to that. Since he needed worry about that phase, all the Caldera needed do now was set himself to work keeping the djed coursing and the conduits racing until Lazerin returned…. Or he could do some real work like a real magesmith while he was here. Only through the force of his hammer strikes, the raging clash of djed upon djed and the furious surging of magic through its structure could something greater be forged and tempered. Durability was the mission, and by the sheer torrential torrent and thickness of the djed he had to work with, neither time nor the machinations of man’s ill intent would, or could, see this shield sundered anytime soon. All the weapons in the world could never lay a dent on the thing, not unless confronted by another mage crafted artifact of course. He wondered to himself if he could create something powerful and sharp enough to one day slice through this shield like butter, and the answer came to him without a moment’s hesitation.

Soon enough, he could very well do anything he damn well pleased. His down payment earlier would ensure it… One day.

For the time being however, the craft called to him fervently now, and Elias could do not but heed it.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2015, 4:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Elias Caldera
The Edgiest of Edge Lords
 
Posts: 559
Words: 613240
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Placeholder #3

Postby Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2015, 3:57 am

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The glyphs were practically roaring at full volume as he ruthlessly hammered away, seeding his own special brand of chaotic order with each relentless blow. Each strike carried with it a tinge of foreign djed, and as enchanted metal met enchanted metal, said djed was thrust deep and white hot into the splayed and welcoming matrix of the shield.

To Elias’s djed laced eyes, the conduits writhed and screamed in elaborate ecstasy under his touch, their rapturous flailing sending loose djed all about the place, only to eventually wind up trapped by the glyphs who struggled valiantly to convert the stray magic into something harmless. The sight made him chuckle with glee, and soon his laughter, a thing both pure and without much sanity to temper it, rang across the laboratory in tandem to the sound of the magecrafting. It was the unsullied music of a mage living entirely in the moment, a life echoing perfectly in harmony with the soul living it. Pearls of sweat beaded his brow as he worked, his hands already aching from the press of the handles into the flesh of his palms. His bones ached and his joints screamed as the chimes –or were they bells?- passed by.

The copper hammer sang in his hand, but in reality there was little actual sound involved in the craft, aside of course from tuned pings and hums from the hammer magically interacting with the shield, but to an aurist at the center of the arcane maelstrom, experiencing the transformation firsthand, it was a completely different story.

He watched in delight as the results of his last flurry of strikes rolled in. It was a tidal wave of magic roared into quivering, defenseless conduits, ready to fill them to bursting and beyond. Despite the madness of his assault, Elias had timed things to the tick, perfectly shadowing and manipulating things just as the tsunami of djed ripped free from the withering reagents and crashed into the shield. At their impact points they struck and split and boiled the onrushing djed, sending up plumes of shattered magic that glyphs ripped to shreds and wove back into the ambient.

Elias was a shivering wreck by the time his work was done. His clothes were plastered to his form, darkened by sweat. It had been a herculean effort jus to open his hands enough to free the hammer that had been clutched so tightly between them. The mage hissed through his teeth as the hammer dropped from nerveless fingers and clattered to the desk.

Stepping back for the first time to take another look at the rounded slab of steel and leather sitting upon the pedestal, the smith saw his handy work in motion, its shifting magical flow twisting and flowing in a ballet of sorts. Beyond that however, something else tugged at his auristic sight and he furrowed his brow at its touch upon his senses. Another massive, living source of magic, and very close by as well. The Caldera looked up, wiping away the rainbow stain of his sight beyond sight to behold the thing intruding upon his work.

It was Lazarin.

The wizard was staring intently, not at him, but at the shield, his focus thoroughly transfixed by what he was gleaning through his own auristics. Eventually, much to a partially petrified Elias’s woe, the man tore his gaze from the shield and locked them unto its magesmith. Then… he nodded at the younger man, a sort of acknowledgment hidden not so discreetly in the curt and small gesture. No screaming or smacking or fireballs… just a nod.

Elias allowed himself a small smile before being promptly shooed away and replaced at his work station.

Lazarin didn’t say anything after that. The old man simply went back to the task at hand and took up where Elias had left off, but it was alright. He had already said enough.
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Elias Caldera
The Edgiest of Edge Lords
 
Posts: 559
Words: 613240
Joined roleplay: September 14th, 2013, 1:28 am
Location: Ravok
Race: Human
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Medals: 3
Featured Thread (1) Overlored (1)
Ravok Seasonal Challenge (1)

Opportunity Seized

Postby Dove Brown on January 23rd, 2016, 3:37 pm

Your Grades!
Brought to you on the wings of a Dove!


Please remember to edit your grading request. If you have any questions, comments or concerns regarding your grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM.

Name: Elias Caldera
XP Award:
  • Observation 2
  • Magecrafting 5
  • Socialisation 2
  • Auristics 1
  • Endurance 1
Lore:
  • Being blocked from assisting
  • Magecrafting is expensive
  • Stymied by poverty
  • The making of magical staffs
  • Magecrafting: The principles involved
  • Magecrafting: taking over mid-process
  • Sometimes a small acknowledgement is enough
Notes: -1000 GM for magecrafting supplies
-4 SM for a delivery tip

Please update your ledger accordingly
Very busy at work. May not be around much for a while.
Threads: 3/3

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Dove Brown
Keeping my head, my backbone, and my heart
 
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