Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Oh what trouble do children cause when they think the consequences avoidable

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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]

Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Hwyn on August 29th, 2017, 10:38 am

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Summer 40th 517 Av



Perhaps there is something to be said for children that emulate there parents. It wasn’t really a concept he understood he hadn’t had role models growing up he’d simply functioned as a way to keep himself alive each day a fight for food and shelter. So he was shaped accordingly though perhaps his personality and relations with others had and would suffer for it. However with the children in the orphanage they neither hand parents or danger to shape them, so they either shaped themselves accordingly or took after the eldest of the orphans.

Perhaps this is why they’d finally gotten cocky. Because now they were gone. Hwyn hadn’t really fit in with the older children he much preferred the company of the younger ones who were for the most part still innocent and loving. With that in mind it was problematic that the older children were missing, if he was the only one left of his age group he was suspect to know where they were even if he did not. So he began the arduos process of looking for any clue to where they had gotten off too. The room they all stayed in was for the most part orderly. That did not mean he that there weren’t any clues. However he wasn’t necessarily the best at finding hidden things, even as a street rat his talents had lied in taking what was in plain sight and getting away with it.

Sitting on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chin he pondered where they could have gotten off too. He did not want to use his eyes unless he had to, he didn’t like using them unless he had to, he just had to think about the last few days, had there been any conversations or obvious things he’d missed? Hugging his legs to his chest he frowned unsure of what to do. Maybe they wouldn’t blame his for whatever happened but the fact that he was the only one still around was suspicious, perhaps it was his own fault for not being good at socializing with people. Thinking hard on the past few days the demure boy sat waiting for inspiration to come, lest he’d give up and use his eyes if he had to.
Last edited by Hwyn on August 30th, 2017, 2:20 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on August 30th, 2017, 1:48 am

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As you can plainly see Mr. Caldera, everything has its proper place here in the Commorancy. Like with any Galatos endeavor, nothing is ever out of order or out of our control for long.

Hmm.” Elias muttered absent-mindedly, his attention having long since abandon the prattling old wet nurse and her pride filled spiel of a tour in favor of his own musings and observations. He followed diligently in her wake however, silent as her shadow as the two walked in unison, only replying with nods and grunts when he felt she’d spoken enough to warrant a reply. Mostly, the scarred mage’s thoughts were everywhere else, his head on a constant swivel, peeking down dark corridors and through the slits of doors left ajar just a little too much to escape his burrowing scrutiny. Every once in a while, a pair of sullen little eyes would find his from betwixt those dark place, looking back at him with any mixture of fear, hope or intrigue in their gazes, but he ignored them all equally. The one’s that were still here weren’t the one’s that interested the pale man who stalked the orphanage’s halls that day. He was looking for something in particular, something that would finally set the hunter on the right path.

The Galatos Commorancy for Children was, aside from being an awful mouthful, an oppressive and dreary place to say the least. At three stories tall, it was the biggest thing the merchant district had to offer visitors, which in itself was a sorry state of affairs, but for many it meant that from almost anywhere in the city, one could at least catch a glimpse of the building’s summit peeking out over Ravok’s wooden horizon of rooftops and parapets like some constant, unwelcome reminder watching them from afar. Elias hadn’t believed this place could get any more ominous than what he'd conjured in his thoughts over the many, many times he'd walked by its front door, but now that he was actually inside for the first time, the black-clad soldier realized just how wrong he’d been.

Now truth be told, it wasn’t as if the orphanage was a dilapidated and ghost filled house of horrors as perhaps he may have first envisioned. In fact, the place was actually nice all things considered. It was clean, tidy and the children themselves seemed well dressed and cared for, their bellies full and their spirits far from crushed as one might have imagined, at least the ones that were unfortunate enough to come scampering into view were anyway. Miss Sonja, as the head mistress and the one guiding him through the orphanage's heart was so named, often made a point of shooing them away quite sternly before Elias had his chance to see anything else, let alone begin asking his questions. Practiced and tired apologies always dripped from their lips as they bowed and scampered off, running away over floors that were polished and scrubbed spotless no doubt by their very hands. It reminded him of his days back in the Vitrax where the instructors would often serve punishments out to impudent initiates by shoving them to the ground and arming them with nothing more than a rag, a bucket full of soap water, and the harsh kiss of the whip should they fail to meet a certain godly standard of cleanliness. Something told the apprentice they might have spared the whip in this place, but he didn’t doubt whose little hands had been at work to keep up such appearances.

Perhaps it was Elias’s own bias against certain things, or it was the bias of the one who had marked his shoulder with its divine blessing, but this place bothered the young stryfer to no end. He didn’t care how some of the stories he’d heard about the Comorancy song its praises to no end, or how many ‘adorable’ smiling faces had been waiting to greet him when he’d first step foot inside, there was just something about so much misery and bleakness being crammed into one place -even as big as it was- that put him on edge. Elias compared this endless anxiety and unease he felt to being back out in the wilds on patrol where every rustling bush and shuddering tree branch hid some horrible beast that was ready to pounce. This place was probably worse if he actually stopped to think about it, for at least out there he could draw his sword and start swiping madly when he heard an errant scream or distant giggling like those that seemed to plague every harrowing corridor and corner they walked pass. Admittedly, the thought of doing that here had come up once or twice since the tour had begun, but to his chagrin, reason won out and he was forced to squash the idea before it became anything more than just that.

Instead, he simply didn’t think about it, and relied instead on his investigation and curiosity to keep at bay the nervousness and unabating agitation that crawled across his skin anew with each new snot nosed brat that went skittering across his peripheral, diving from from one shadow to the other.

The matron of the house had apparently taken note of both this discomfort and his apparent lack of interest in her continued reassurances however, and the overly stoic woman stopped suddenly, prompting the Caldera to do the same with aggravating surprise as she turned on him, lavender eyes tightening into something harsh and cold and altogether cruel that he imagined must have worked wonders on disobedient children. “Really, I must again insist that your presence here is not only a distraction, but a deplorable waste of time. The children that are… absent will be found soon, the need for the Ebonstryfe to involve itself in this affair is-

You said the dorms were split into two, for boys and for girls?

The woman scowled, but Elias waved a dismissive hand as he casually stepped around her. Usually, someone with a name like Galatos would have earned themselves a drowning wave of deference and sycophantic respect from Elias, a man who’d always been eager to ingratiate himself with the upper class of Ravok’s blooded elite since he was a boy, but there were limits even to his star struck bootlicking, and they were reached when he'd made Sonja. The woman was a babysitter, nothing less and, unfortunate for her, nothing more. With too little to gain from the herculean effort it would have taken to simply summon up the energy required for basic human etiquette and manners towards the snooty nursemaid, Elias instead turned to his go to tactic when dealing with people he simply could use his sword on.

Show me.” He whispered, the words laced with an unnatural allure that warped and twisted anything they touched like a disease. In this case, it was Sonya’s thoughts as the hypnotist took to attacking her mind once more. It had taken an extra bit of convincing to even get his foot in the front door, the obstinate bitch proving a challenging hindrance to his investigation right off the bat. Every step after that felt like it had required more and more hypnotic suggestions just to continue. Needless to say, it had drained him of his daily rationing of civility, but he hardly blamed the head mistress for that of course, if Elias had been in her shoes, there would have been no way in hell he would have let someone that looked like he did anywhere near a child, let alone the one hundred or so souls that were under his care.

With a base already established for it to work from thanks to his previous probings, the magic easily worked itself deep into her psyche, taking hold of her impulses and thinking before quickly making them its own. Things made sense now that were repulsive and unimaginable mere ticks ago, and it wasn’t long before the grimace faded from Sonya’s features and she was pointing resignedly down a hallway just ahead. “Down there,” she admitted a sigh, lowering her arm and turning to face him once more. The sorcerer caught her with another unbalancing blast of his arcane sway, catching the words in her throat before she’d had the chance to voice her complaint. “You’re a busy woman, with much to take care of. I understand that. Go, put your house back in order. I will wait patiently for you right here. You have my word, madam Galatos.

The words were lost on her, the matron’s focus drifting elsewhere worriedly as if she’d just heard something quite upsetting coming from down hall. “Right here?” She asked, concern growing deeper and more dire with each passing moment as her brow furrowed and the magic's noose tightened. “Right here.” He assured her with a scarred smile. She glanced at him apprehensively, then back over his shoulder towards whatever inconvenience was troubling her so. Elias didn’t care what exactly it was, he let her own worries and hysteria conjure that itself as he'd found that was often the best way of letting his victim's distract themselves. Thankfully, whatever it was, it was enough to finally settle her convictions towards the task of correcting it, and by the time the mage was making his way towards the dorm rooms, she was gone, her skirts gathered up in her hands as she made her hasty retreat.

He expected to find another empty room like the one he'd managed to get a quick glimpse of in the girl's quarters earlier. Nearly a dozen or so children gone in a single night, and all of them missing without a trace from the same two rooms. Quite an embarrassment for the orphanage he figured, a kind of embarrassment they likely never had to deal with before in such disconcerting volume. Assuming they only had to deal with one or two runaways a season, if any, he wasn't shocked to find how very little they were willing to share such troubles openly, especially to one such as him. This was something else entirely, something new and inspired, which was what made it so damn compelling for the Caldera who was now pushing his way past the door and into the room unannounced. The place may have been devoid of any runway kids now, but it would still remember their story like a devoted dog remembered its master's scent, one just had to know the right place to scratch.
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Hwyn on September 12th, 2017, 12:10 pm

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Of Wards and Wardens



There is something to be said for the air that people carry with them. Some people carry a presence of relaxed ease and confidence, people that are not only easy to be around but able leaders. There were people who smelled of timidity and those who you could tell at a glance were shady. When the man come up, he looked up only by a small margin. He didn’t even need to see the man’s eyes to know he was trouble. The clothes he wore said it for him, one of Ravok’s pet lap dogs, a servant to the city on the surface, but everyone knew better than that.

He didn’t want to talk to the man. In fact returning his chin to his knees, he did not even want to look at him. It was bred into him, a distaste for those of power. It had stood true in Sunberth, Syliras, and even Alvadas. He was of the belief that this opinion would never change. Evil takes many forms after all, sometimes it even been beneficial to him, but the evil of those that represent order, had always been something he’d found distasteful. Those with power often used it to easily and had little mercy in its use.

Frowning as he receded into the corners of his mind he tried to push away the self evident fact that there was another human, no, monster in the room with him. He even knew why the man was there, even if he didn’t have what the man wanted. He was an outcast, or… new at the very least, all the orphans were outcasts, it was there one similarity, but he’d not been in on whatever had transpired and was alone. He did not bear them any ill will over the fact, it was never safe to trust easily. However he decided solemnly he would not willingly allow harm to be brought to the children. He knew that punishment always followed disobedience, twas a rule those with power loved to sadistically inflict, their hubris giving them the justification to whip those beneath them like dogs, the entire lot of those with power were disgusting monsters who had traded humanity for power.

He’d yet to feel like anyone had proven him wrong. Children however both good and bad were preferable, they didn’t do much out of malice or simple sadism, they were simply jealous and selfish creatures, those that had little more so on occasion. But between each other there was a sort of fellowship the only thing souring it was when one gained power. Though within the commerancy they were all equally worthless. He did not think he understood what love was even still, but the companionship and comradery he had shared with the others of his lot in life was enough that he understood the concept of loyalty to those that shared his loneliness and sorrow. Hardening his heart, he waited to hear what the man might threaten him or them with. He could take solace in the fact that he knew nothing. However, he was sure that he would bring some measure of wrath against himself for his own resistance. That however had ceased to scare him long long ago.
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on September 17th, 2017, 8:51 pm

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You’re going to have to open your eyes eventually, child…

Elias breathed patiently as he stalked across the room, cold, cruel eyes dancing methodically across every details of his new domain, the stryfer’s new-found companion included. He hadn’t expected the girl when he’d entered, and for a moment the soldier had hesitated at the doorway, unsure on how to proceed. It was a moment born of uncertainty, and one that had quickly been squashed and overcome by the convictions of a man no longer willing to tolerate such frivolous constraints in the face of his designs. Doubt was for the weak, he reminded himself, and Elias Caldera could ill afford such a thing anymore.

The room was small, sparse and spartan, with only the bare necessities allowed to sully the pure dreariness of the living space, it seemed. It reminded the mage of his old prison cell beneath the city, though he had to admit, things were a bit tidier up here, and there were not nearly as many rats chewing on his fingers either… If he’d been forced to choose, he wasn’t sure which, between the well or the orphanage, he found more unbearable.

Scanning his meager surroundings none the less, Elias could find little that initially caught his attention, though he speculated that might have been more the fault of his unfortunate company, and less his own lackluster insight. The girl, likely completely unaware of any of it, was nibbling away at his focus, waves of ambivalence and ambiguity rolling off her like the Zeltivan high tide, and all of it intensified tenfold by his unannounced arrival, he could tell.

It was distracting to say the least.

As an aurist, the Caldera was capable of passively sensing relatively minute and simple details when close to something or someone. More often than not, that did not include the emotions of others, not unless they were staggeringly distinct and powerful. He’d felt rage like a blistering fire lashing at his skin, and he’d suffered sorrow not his own like a sickness gripping at his heart, but he’d never been subjected to such apathy as he was now at the hands of this… boy?

Small, sinewy arms had tightly wrapped themselves around his knees, and an unkempt veil of dirty blonde hair spilled out over it all, hiding the demure face he was sure lay beneath. She, or he rather, had balled himself up into a tight little package of melancholic listlessness upon her bed, and even now, with the swordsman staring at him so intently, the child refused to stir from his self-imposed solitude. Perhaps some sort of recent anguish had left him in such a state, or perhaps the boy simply hoped if he ignored him long enough, the mean man would simply disappear.

If only life were so generous.

The world was all at once swallowed whole by an explosion of color and arcane meaning as Elias called upon his auristic sight beyond sight. Where once there had been nothing but the dismal and the insignificant, now lingering in its place were a thousand different swirling stories waiting to be untangled, each a veritable gold mine of information both fresh and faded, but all of which containing the potential for acumen unparalleled by mortal eyes. The problem was sifting through it all and finding the one’s that mattered, a herculean task that would require a great deal of concentration and focus… it didn’t help matters then, that there was a languidly churning vortex of misery and woe sitting ominously in the corner, distracting the sorcerer to no end. There was something amidst it all though, something that he was quick to pick up on even through all the unsorted mess. This boy wasn't completely new to this room. In fact, he'd probably been here with the others that had escaped!

Now Elias understood the young man's forlorn nature.

They'd left him behind.

Something told him to stay away from this one, that he’d be better off if he left it alone lest he stray too close and whatever tainted its hollow little heart would infect the shattered remnants of the one he still clung to. Yet, he also knew all too well an opportunity like this was one far too good to simply pass up because of some absurd sense of dread. It was just a kid! He chided himself impatiently. I’ve handled worse… I think

The pale swordsman crept across the polished floor towards the boy, descending slowly to one knee before the bed so they’d be eye to eye if he ever dared to look up. For his part, Elias knew what kind of image he presented people, especially when they had the distinct ‘pleasure’ of being trapped in a room alone with him, and so he was not above using that to his advantage whenever possible.

He made sure his voice carried an air of something unsettling when he finally spoke.

They left you behind.” He whispered, blue eyes fervently trying to burrow past the boy’s wiry defenses to little avail. “Abandoned you to this place, while everyone else stole their freedom in the dead of night… I wonder why?

Why only you?
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Hwyn on September 17th, 2017, 9:37 pm

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Of Wards and Wardens


There is freedom in the escape from the fear of death, the acceptance that you’re insignificant to all but yourself, and then accepting that you are insignificant even to yourself. Self esteem was for the self assured or those that operated on a basis beyond that of simply surviving. He didn’t want to die, he liked living, and had things he felt he should eventually accomplish… but there were times when even the things greater than himself felt insignificant, maybe the sadness of loneliness, separation from the person who gave him daily purpose had spoiled him and the sudden lack of duties and reliance on him by someone he deemed… significant? Either way the withdrawal was not treating him well.

While times of less stress and some ease had infected Hwyn with the basics of understanding of what it was to coexist with other people for reasons other than survival, it was still his default state as a Sunberthian to form no attachments. Watching his own back, a habit he had mixed feelings about but was ingrained nonetheless. The man’s grim stare did not phase him he doubted the man intended to kill him, if the stryfe wanted him dead he would be, the phantom pain of the needle in his neck a reminder of his own powerlessness. When the man spoke Hwyn almost laughed internally, if there was one thing he had, it was patience, he did not doubt he could outlast the man, the man had the bluff of violence on his side. But if he attacked then Hwyn one, as he’d defeated the man’s patience.

His neck prickled as the man stared at him, he didn’t need to look at him to feel his presence it was an oppressive aura draining the color from the already bleached room. If Hwyn’s aura was apathy, then that of the man was oppression. Hwyn did not care to drag everyone else into his world, it was his, and his alone, as all suffering should be. The man however seemed to want to share his suffering with the world, and conquer with it, in a way, it was admirable. Hwyn could smell the same scent in the man’s voice that Hwyn’s own carried, those who knew rock bottom had a grim kinship.

It was when the man spoke a second time that Hwyn debated how to react. “left behind”. The prospect amused him. Though how to voice it was something he wasn’t sure of he did not like flowery language, or did not like it unless he was in the presence of somebody he wanted to gift it to. Opening his eyes slowly Hwyn met the man’s own dark eyes. Hwyn’s ruby corona orbs met the man, unblinking, the dark shade of sleeplessness coloring the space beneath his own. He wasn’t afraid decidedly, he could be, but Eva had broken a part of him that casually responded to horror, scars and imperfections were little when the person you lived with would mutate their body casually as one might put on makeup. Speaking slowly and softly in a voice so gentle that It did not bear any malice, simply a hollow truth.

“when you pack up and leave, do you also take the cobwebs and the dust?”

Smiling wanly, a smile that might be seen on the face of a man who chases away the faces of those he’d killed with liquor, or the prostitute who no longer knows of any value to her used flesh. Hwyn was hardly a human anymore he’d been stripped of many of the fun features that came with an identity. Each time he began building his personality up accepting a new lot, a new normality, it was dashed away by fate. Perhaps it was simply a depression speaking, one that might pass. Though for the moment it did not feel thusly.

“escape… to freedom? I apologize, but… do you really believe in such a thing? They escaped the confines of a building… they did not gain freedom, after all, a hound is now on their trail no? No, I don’t think they found freedom, any more than I, any more than you… I am still here, because I’m the freshest layer of forgotten dust, unmingled with the rest. They did not know me, nor I them, so here I am.. no more free than they are now.”
Returning his chin to his knees his shoulders slumped. Looking the man in the eyes had informed him that he wasn’t likely going to be leaving him any time soon. He could smell stubbornness like that of a tick that sucks you dry tell it’s body is so fat and bloated it has destroyed itself. Such were the dogs of Ravok, no, the world.

“A purpose… is eventually given or forced to the residents of this…. Home they are all well versed in their dictated ambitions… a good dog could follow such an easy smell I think”
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on September 18th, 2017, 2:02 am

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Such sorrow. Such grief and heartache overwhelming, and all of it knitted into a soul too young to ever have known of things so cruel. Elias looked into the familiar eyes of his accused for the first time -their colors a shocking conflagration of brilliant pinks and red and blues- and in that boy’s vibrant and callous gaze, the Ravokian saw himself staring back at him.

He saw a reflection of what he once was, and he was reviled.

The memories of his mother came flooding in like the storm waters, drowning the young apprentice in all the unbidden remorse and mourning he always foolishly believed he’d finally managed to banish away once and for all right up until it all came back again to haunt him anew. He couldn’t escape his mistakes, or his regrets, nor the suffering that shrouded it all, and in the orphan’s wretched rebuttal, he recognized all too well that very same curse laid heavy like a cloak upon his slim shoulders too. With every word emphasized by the harrowing aura that clung to the young one like an air of sickness and disease, it quickly became too much for the scarred man to endure. Too much. He thought with bitter resentment as the beads of sweat began to take shape upon his brow. Too much!

Unwilling and unable to withstand the weary eyes that assaulted him, Elias’s breath caught in his throat and he leapt back up to his feet, stumbling away from the boy until his back was to the wall and there was nowhere else to run. He must have looked like such a ridiculous fool then, fleeing in terror as he had and only barely managing to mask the fear as he hastily attempted to hide it under a harsh scowl instead. On top of that, the brat had ventured to insult him, that much hadn’t been lost to the aurist despite his current disheveled state, yet his reaction had been to retreat. It was unfathomable! He had to regain his composure and take back his control, and he had to do it now!

You think you know suffering!” Elias sneered, wiping at his mouth as he began to pace, anxious and angry in equal measures. “Something or someone broke you, and now you think you understand it.” He shook an accusatory finger at the lad, though his eyes darted about wildly as he attempted to resituate himself and drive out the images of the woman he'd gotten killed so long ago. “Well If you truly knew anything, then you wouldn’t be so quick to invite anymore of it upon yourself. Watch your tone with me, boy, I’ll afford you no second warning.

Usually he’d end with a threat after that, something vivid and imaginative to keep his victims worried and wondering, but he suspected such words would have been particularly wasted on this boy. In fact, he wasn’t sure anything he said would have shaken the little bastard given what kind of a despair filled void Elias had just managed to wrench himself free from. He should have listened to his gut, the mage groaned internally, he should have turned tail and gotten the petch out of there the moment he felt the fringes of that sordid aura upon him.

Now it was too petching late. Silently, he cursed the day he ever thought learning auristics would have been an amazing idea.

Elias wandered over the lone window on the far wall, leaning up against the sill and peering out the only escape from the room’s ever stifling gloom. The sight outside was one of hope, he realized with a start as he began in earnest to steady his breathing. He could see a great deal of Ravok from this little hole in the wall; the canals, like rigid serpents zigzagging among the throngs of massive floating barges and platforms. The tiny ravosalas that swam lazily across them. And all the countless ants that scurried over bridges and sidewalks in an endless hurry to get from one place to another. It was a calming sight, and in the distance, there too was the temple, ever present and faithful, a beacon his weary eyes could always look upon and find surety and truth renewed. No wonder those kids had been so keen to break out, he thought. If they’d been taunted with this view all their miserable lives, then of course they’d eventually try more than simply reaching their hands through the bars to grasp it, it was-

Something caught the mage’s attention then, his thoughts interrupted by a surprising discovery. Though he wasn’t sure it meant anything, Elias noticed the evidence of someone having attempted to saw through one of the metal bars. Attempted being the key word, in that they’d only managed to get a quarter of the way through one of them, but clearly an avid effort had been made with some sort of instrument. Why then had they stopped, and if it wasn’t through the window, how had they managed to escape at all?

It wasn’t your parents…” Elias abruptly declared, his fixation still upon the majesty that awaited him outside. Unlike the orphan, its presence to him was a reassurance that’d he’d be free of this place soon enough, not a constant reminder of his less than gilded cage. “No, you lost something else. Your master, I assume, given that gaudy brand upon your chest. I wonder what kind of a man he must have been to inspire such heartache in his absence.

Elias may have been briefly 'flustered' some might say, in that little... whatever it was he'd just gone through, but he hadn’t been blinded. With his magical perception, he’d bore witness -and was still doing so- to a number of things about the boy that had caught his curiosity. His slave branding was just one of them. Part of him wanted to ask if the lad’s master was dead, gutted somewhere and dumped in a canal like yesterday’s chamber pot. Such was his contempt for the boy for having made him suffer the memories his own sorrow had unknowingly elicited. Again however, he knew already the harsh jab would have only served to deepen the pit in which the child was all too content to wallow in, ultimately achieving nothing in the end.

This was indeed a new kind of foe the Stryfer wasn’t quite sure how to fight just yet. One that didn't care enough to fear him, or anything else it seemed, but that only meant he had to get a little more creative was all. Elias wasn’t the kind to give up so quick now that he had an enemy to overcome.

With his composure regained and his purpose here rekindled, Elias turned back around, ready once more to face the blonde-haired bane that awaited him on the other side of the room.

I believe you. You’re more a liability than your worth, and I wouldn’t have risked letting you join either. I will still find them, regardless, and you will still serve me to that end." He took a step closer, the first he’d found the courage for since his outburst, "First, you're going to tell me everything you know..."
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Hwyn on September 30th, 2017, 10:00 am

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Of Wards and Wardens


It was almost amusing, in a humorless not very funny kind of way. The situation Hwyn seemed to have dug himself into was in no way weighted in his favor and yet the person who was supposed to be getting information out of him was too busy being taunted by his own assumptions that he’d taken to yelling at him. Not that he minded so much he was beyond simple taunts and threats. So when the man berated him with his first set of verbal abuses Hwyn didn’t react he simply went back to looking at his knees.

Then came the jab, the second part was almost painful, it was dead on for the most part. He had been separated from someone he had deemed important, though he wasn’t sure if important was the phrasing he wanted to use. She had become an essential part of his routine, his purpose. He hadn’t really taken to any other idea of purpose, he was depended on and was able to depend others, there wasn’t much else he needed.

Perhaps it was wise to simply allow the man his assumptions but there was some dull defiant throb in his throat, begging to be released. Maybe he wanted to get the man’s wrath, any form of attention was better than nothing right? If people could still get angry at you it meant you existed right? Hate was better than indifference, and for the moment it looked like he’d garnered hate at least.

“....no…”

No? No what Hwyn? Why did that slip past his lips, was he really interested in being so directly defiant? Snide words were one thing but he really could be killed for defying those that served Rhysol… you don’t want to die right? You still want to be noticed, Cared about… Needed? His hands trembled still wrapped around his legs, a dull emotion was catching flame, the man inches away from him, telling him he was going to do his bidding, it was funny really, he should be happy right, that was a purpose being offered him, and yet he was defying it, the very thing he said he wanted. Maybe he was lying to himself as much as he was lying to everyone else.

“....”

Say something fool, save your own skin, it’s not like the other orphans care about you, what have you got to lose? Frowning Hwyn looked at the person before him, He was like himself,someone who was acting on behalf of another unable to even pull his own strongs, just another one of fates pawns.

“I’m sorry…. But I really don’t know where they went…. I don’t think someone like me would be any more than a burden… but I’ll try to help…. But tell me you won’t hurt them….”
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Hwyn on September 30th, 2017, 10:00 am

Double post
Last edited by Hwyn on October 9th, 2017, 8:07 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Elias Caldera on October 9th, 2017, 3:06 am

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Defiance, even obscured by such a pitiable shroud of fragility and apprehension, was still defiance all the same, and Elias could feel his temperament darkening with every word of the boy’s hollow response.

No…

The soldier’s brow arched in reaction, and something akin to a sneer began to take hold on his face.

Still this wretch continued to resist, doing so in his own terribly awkward way, even going so far as to expect some kind of placation for his inevitable cooperation, as if they were actually bargaining. I’ll do what I want with them, and with you if I so please! The mage wanted to bark, pride and indignation taking center stage as he wrestled internally with his darker nature. It was a struggle to contain himself, but the better part of him won out in the end and the words never found their way past his lips.

Still… the wicked thoughts lingered.

To anyone else, the orphan’s reply wouldn’t have elicited such a heated reaction, for there was little in his tone or meaning that warranted as such, but Elias was a man who saw beyond just words. He was a mage with a mage’s sight, and the boy’s meek rebuttal was overshadowed by the thunderstorm of emotions and ill urges that set his aura’s alight like lightning amidst dark and turbulent skies. He may not have been able to read all of them, or even delve as deep into their meaning as he may have liked to let on, but even so, the youth’s odd mannerisms couldn’t hide the truth of his arcane essence.

The Stryfer knew then and there he would not be able trust a single word the boy would utter.

Some kind of conflict within plagued the whelp, souring his thoughts and turning his mind rotten with doubt. The sorcerer could see it all, and as the auras drew for him a picture that spoke volumes about the boy’s uncertainty and questioned his usefulness, Elias realized with a start how prominent a role auristics had played in their hectic interaction so far. Without a doubt it had made the whole thing a thoroughly strange, if not bizarre ordeal to say the least, but with that price of weirdness however, came a brevity and pointedness that Elias could hardly deny. He'd cut through the chaff of this impromptu interrogation in mere chime would have normally taken a man with mere mortal senses likely bells to realize. He’d been studying the boy like an open book ever since their eyes had first locked, and now the magic that had given him such otherworldly insight was telling him there was little further use for simple conversation anymore. It was time to flip the page and skip ahead to the ending; the one where the little orphan boy revealed all his secrets to the big bad Ebonstryfer.

Punishment is not their fate,” The swordsman acquiesced at last, taking another step towards the nameless knave with a renewed air of menace and resolve heralding his approach. He knew exactly what he had to do next. “In fact, I intend to reward them.” Another step. He had the perfect tool for sussing out secrets like this, and something inside him, something unnatural and divine told him exactly how to use it. “Like all those fortuitous enough to live their lives under Rhysol’s magnanimous dominion, I will give them the gift all his faithful strive for.” The knowledge was like instinct, burned into him as if he’d done it a thousand times before, and yet this scrawny little whelp was about to have the… privilege of being the very first.

The pale swordsman was looming over the boy now, his shadow of intent settling upon his victim like a stifling coat. He leaned in, eyes like ice drawing far too close for comfort. “I will give them purpose.” He breathed, a leathery gloved hand slowly reaching out to take a hold of the slave’s throat. “I will give them the opportunity... to serve.

Just as I give it to you, now.


The hand would find its soft target, latching itself around the boy’s flesh and forcing him down unto the bed. Its grip was not a tight and strangling one however, for it would have little need of such crudeness. Something else had accompanied its touch, something not quite as tangible but equally as dangerous. Unfortunately for the orphan, Elias wasn’t just an aurist, but a hypnotist as well, and his magic invaded the lad’s mind without a care for his will or want, instead twisting them both to better suit their master’s whim.

You need not waste your breath, slave. I have my own ways of finding the truth. Now... Submit.

The instructions were sweet and honeyed unlike any spoken by mortal tongue, maddeningly invasive yet impossibly compelling. They burrowed their way deep, finding every avenue and entryway they could to see their compulsion take effect. The obedience the sorcerer expected was not something demanded of his victim however, but simply expected. He played on the boy’s most prominent characteristic; that drowning apathy that clouded everything, corrupting and kneading it to suit his own desire. In the boy’s mind whispered a little voice with a thunderous roar that simply asked ‘whats the point? Why fight it? There no reason to resist. It doesn’t matter anyway.’

By then, Elias was already upon the boy, pinning him to the bed with one hand around his neck, and another binding his arms above his head such that he was prostrate and helpless beneath the scarred stryfer towering over. No sense of shame or abashment was enough to stop him, for only a commitment to finding the truth and taking what he wanted drove the Ravokian at that point.

And yet, before the final piece was set into place… hesitation.

Just as he was preparing himself for what was to come next, there was a pause, a slight tremor in the steady wave that had carried him this far so confidently. There was so much to question and consider about using his power like this, and for such wicked reasons, was it really-

The reluctance disappeared in an instant as the Silkrov marked bit down and began to drink his fill.

As he'd told himself before, doubt was for the weak.
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Of Wards and Wardens (Elias)

Postby Okara on July 26th, 2018, 3:18 pm

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Hwyn



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Please update your ledger for living expenses and either resubmit the thread or grade yourself.


Elias Caldera

Hypnotism 2
Investigation 3
Auristics 3
Interrogation 3
Intimidation 1

Ravok Location: The Galatos Family Commorancy for Children
Sonja Galatos: Headmistress of the Orphanage
Hwyn: Orphan
Interrogation: Get on Eye Level When Questioning Children
Pain of the Reflections of a Younger Self
Auristics: Helpful in Interrogations

Rewards/Penalties/Notes
A very intense interrogation, I liked that you included moments where Elias’s powers sort of turned on him and affected him in unexpected ways emotionally. It helped him from seeming overpowered. Magic is neutral, just a tool, and those unexpected elements helped the interaction feel more real and natural. Nicely written.


Please edit your post in your grade request to reflect that it has been graded. PM me with any questions.

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