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Opposing sides of the Tower debate face off in the Basilika

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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Postby Madeira Craven on February 7th, 2019, 11:14 pm

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49th of Winter, 518
Tenten was a more subdued peak compared to Zintia. This was the peak of academics and scholars, where peace and quiet was a sanctity thank-you-very-much. There were no taverns, no plaza, no market but for the odd shop tucked away. In its place they had the Syna Temple, the illustrious Academy and the mysterious Divine Gateway. The very air here was ripe with learning and discovery. Madeira breathed in the atmosphere and sighed.

"This feels like your mountain, Savis. Forget Zintia, you belong here." She laughed, and the sound bounced off the cobbles. "Though gods forbid you leave me. I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

Their destination was the Bharani library, and Emma led the way. Together the heavily pregnant human, pale Nuit and gruesome ghost made an odd trio. But the press of building hid them from all but the most observant of prying eyes as they cut between alleys and rarely used streets. Dark blue embroidered velvet covered Madeira from throat to floor, with a thin plunging neckline that sparkled with a rope of diamonds. Ever present magical gloves covered her hands and were weighted down by gaudy rings, and her hair was scraped back and braided into a lady-like chignon.

She had never been to the library, though she knew Savis was a frequent visitor. The Nuit flourished with the complicated, technical studies that made her a voracious studier. Madeira had no such proclivity, and was much more capable with the intuitive subjects. That simple distinction was one of the many reasons they worked well together, even when their initial friendship had long since soured. They filled in the gaps of the other, and together made a better whole.

But it was finally time for the spiritist to bite down and study. Their tandem project, the maledicted skeleton golem, was not something to be approached recklessly. They needed all the information they could find on the combination of malediction and animation, and any pitfalls they might face marrying the two.

"I've been thinking", Madeira spoke as they walked, adjusting the drape of her dress over her distended belly. "Since we have some time before we can work on the skeleton again, could I persuade you to make something for me? A little animation." the Library was coming into view, its tall towers and grand façade spilling out into the darkend streets as if it had daylight stored into its very stones. "I've been working on my Malediction and what I need more than anything is a tool to help me with the minute details. A stack of magnifying glasses, with different focuses, that can help with the delicate creations. Is that something you can do?"

As the trio walked up the Library grounds there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. As they passed Madeira noticed the influx of people that thickened as they went. But these weren't the closed off scholarly types. Every person they passed seemed more tense than the one before. Some walked in pairs and argued hotly under their breaths, others silently carried their boiled nerves in the twitch of their foreheads and the knot of their shoulders. But they didn't seem to be heading straight for the Library, as Savis and Madeira were. They were heading to another building on the grounds, one Madeira had never explored.

The Spiritist paused in her walking, causing Emma to come to a sudden stop and a red-faced young man to sputter uncomfortably as he collided and stepped through her.

"I get the distinct feeling I'm missing something here," Madeira muttered, worrying her lips between her teeth. "Savis, do you know what's going on?"
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Postby Savis Maren on February 12th, 2019, 10:52 am

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"This feels like your mountain, Savis."

The statement rang true in oh-so-many ways. While the Nuit 'lived' on Zintia and had for the entirety of her duration in Lhavit, she'd likely spent far more time in Tenten. Her sorry attempt at employment at Lucis and Lucis, the multiple forays into business with the gadgeteer, then on top of that the hours and even days poured into tomes and indulgences in the intellectual. Once, a very small and mortal Savis Maren hungered for knowledge voraciously. The city of Zeltiva fostered intellectualism within its people, and she flourished with a nourishing atmosphere in her youth. Now, time armed her with far different knowledge and a different mindset to filter her understanding through.

This is my mountain, she thought to herself, allowing an easy chuckle to escape her when Madeira completed her thought.

"Oh, I love my new home far too much for that!" she quipped, her tone laden with the haughtiness of the 'princess persona' she'd adopted since the keys to her miniature castle were handed to her. The Nuit was dressed in her plain garments this day, her orders from the Silk Palace in differing levels of completion. Soon, the Nuit might carry herself like royalty in public, but for now, she was content to allow Madeira to have such honors. However, she did keep with silk hooded cape around her shoulders, drawing the dark cowl over her head. The sullen expression of undeath was only Emma's to have this day, for Savis Maren cloaked her face and her silver eyes were unseen to the casual onlooker.

"But, I've grown fond of Tenten. It's easier to hear one's thoughts when the rabble of the common folk is quieter," she reasoned as she led the pair onward and towards Bharani Library. However, as the pair grew closer, the air grew thicker. Savis Maren felt it in the air around her as tension suffused into the manifesting crowd, which grew larger and more diverse with every round of paces the two took. Side conversations were alight, and Savis was curious to know why all of a sudden the streets felt like Zintia's.

This can't have anything to do with... the Nuit thought. Earlier in the day, Savis Maren stopped by the Studio, talks with Tain about a new project being canceled bringing a measure of frustration but relief as well. Savis Maren struggled to find her place as an artist, and having some time to learn more of the basics before being given a personal assignment was just what she wished for.

This unfortunate incident had overcome a student of the inexperienced Elena Lariat, who has only recently begun to offer her knowledge to those who were not qualified to be taught by the honorable Tasa of the Twilight family... she recalled, reading a new posting to the Gazette on her way out of the Studio and towards Infinity Manor to meet up with the lady of the house.

We fear the influx of civilian instructors of magic has resulted in a saturation of such a beautiful and dangerous skill. We do not wish to restrain knowledge, as the Diamond of Kalea has always been home to those who seek magic without persecution, however it still remains that this is a dangerous feet for those who dare take it...

The contents of that letter were as grave as the consequences for the sort of thinking encouraged by it. The Nuit let the thought go by the wayside, however. Djed was at the beck of her will, pulled from the depths of her soul but not given task when Madeira Craven spoke to her anew.

"Since we have some time before we can work on the skeleton again, could I persuade you to make something for me?"

At last, we've arrived, she thought. Of course, it was useful to have world mages around. The product of their research was tangible, unlike most forays into personal magic. "A little animation," she justified as if expecting the Nuit to refuse or grow indignant. Then, she delved without awaiting an answer into the details. Expectant of a yes? she mused. Of course, without her explanation, the Nuit was already intrigued, curious to know what the Spiritist needed golems for when she had ghosts she could bend to her whim.

Magnifying glasses. Different focuses. Delicate creations? Malediction? she thought. The list grew more and more specific with each thought, and Savis Maren arched her eyebrows, holding onto Madeira's arm for a moment as she stepped towards the shadow of a nearby wall.

"We could talk to Lucis about constructing a golem body. I can't hope to begin to understand how he makes them so functional. But once we have a form capable of serving your purposes... I can do all of that and more," she assured the Spiritist. Finding a suitable Source was something the Nuit could do while Lucis worked on the mechanisms, which surely would take some time to make to par. The Nuit motioned to Wheels, her prized golem that rolled effortlessly to keep to the shambling pace of the Nuit and her pregnant compatriot.

"Monsieur Wheels," she began, her fingers traversing the metallic surface of its form, "Well, he's just the beginning. A very good beginning, I might add," she added, looking pointedly at Wheels as she spoke in an effort to assure the golem that she wasn't admonishing it.

"I know I can make what you're asking for. And moreover, I can make it better than anyone else in this city could," she affirmed. Savis Maren found her footing at last. Venom no longer needed to sit on her tongue. Instead, she was assured and certainly... she was capable. They continued on towards the library, passing through the Basilika, which moreso than the busier-than-normal peak, was rife with conversation. Men and women alike shouted at the top of podiums, and over and over again the Nuit heard the name 'Elena Lariat' spoken, some with a neutral tone while others were laden with a ferocity.

I was right, she ruminated, her lips pursed. Savis Maren did not care for Elena Lariat, but rather, respected her position. But, with the letter ringing in her thoughts and the warnings given and even argued about around her... she couldn't help but feel pity.

Magic is difficult to teach, she mused, knowing that the various lessons she'd given to people in her time in the city were a means to an end, and she doubted that they'd made a lasting impact on any of them. Except for perhaps Mauriel, that blessed soul.

"I saw the posting on the way home. There was an incident in the Studio of Enchantment. A pretty serious overgiving accident, if I recall correctly."

Not all minds are prepared for the onset of the arcane, she reasoned, a journeyman's advocate in the warring opinions that dwelled both within the Nuit and around the Basilika. The hot debate around her seemed to bring life within the Nuit.

"There's something about civilized minds tearing at one another like animals that just invites the happiness in," she mused, just loud enough for Madeira to hear before she clarified,

"I think they're arguing to and for the merits of independent teaching of the arcane. In effect, if magic should be kept under the watch of the Towers," she continued. It was difficult to make out individual conversations, voices growing louder and louder for the debaters to hear rebuttals as onlookers spoke all throughout, just like the two of them were.

"What do you think?" she asked the Spiritist, curious to know. Within her own mind, rebuttals to and for both sides sprang to mind, and the Nuit's recollections ventured to her own independent teachings, believing that she'd given enough warnings and advice in her basic lessons to mitigate some of the dangers should any of her supposed pupils decided to act on their lesson. To the Nuit, knowledge being restricted in this beacon of light and understanding seemed utterly absurd.

What a way to destroy confidence in this place, she mused. The families of Lhavit clearly were using such an event to their advantage, an isolated incident without precedent clearly being manipulated to denounce those mages who didn't ally themselves with the great Families.

The powerful stay in power this way.
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Postby Madeira Craven on February 13th, 2019, 8:43 pm

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Madeira smiled tightly at Savis' haughty tone; a very recent acquisition of the mage's. This new princess attitude started with the Architectrix's insistence of housing their Nuit in a tiny castle. Soon she began talking like a bourgeois, renamed animations with the prefix 'sir' and 'madame', and with the house's standing order to watch Savis at all times, Madeira also knew she had brought a seal-woman over and continued the delusion with her enthusiastic help. While this new Savis was much better company that the callous, seething creature she had first met, this new development worried her.

The Spiritist had dealt with many dead souls, enough to recognize a pattern in them. And as she looked at Savis she wondered if she was seeing the pattern starting in her friend. For she truly believed that the dead had an expiry date. Towards the end, when the stress and confusion and detachment of living world they were no longer truly a part off starts to weigh heavily on them, they start to crack. Some took days, others centuries, but in the end they all snap. Madness was nearly universal amongst ghost, why should Nuit be any different? Jumping from body to body, loosing ones sense of self with each transfer, forever an unwanted passenger in a society that feared them and a rotting body that cannot hold them. Perhaps she was seeing the fissures starting in Savis.

Still, there was something to be said for this confidence. This new Savis was arrogant and self assured, saying that not only could she make the animation Madeira requested, she could make it better than anyone else in this city. Yes, that's how the Spiritist like her allies: voracious and talented and willing to fight their peers to prove it. She would just have to keep an eye on her mental state, and hope this was just garden-variety madness, and not the deterioration of her mind.

Passing through the Basilika, Madeira was taken aback by the beauty of it. Art and skyglass and towering architecture twisted together like lovers until one didn't know where the art ended the building began. And even then, it was merely set dressing to the stimulating volley of words that rang through its marble hall. The voices were a clamour, and the name of a prominent mage was being flung around as were all three Towers. The atmosphere was electrifying, and it seemed Savis felt it too. From under her silken hood the Nuit's eyes were ablaze as she gave her the context she desperately needed.

"I think they're arguing to and for the merits of independent teaching of the arcane. In effect, if magic should be kept under the watch of the Towers,"

This was news to the Spiritist, who had spent the last twelve hours at home straining her eyes while working on her subpar Malediction. She rolled the idea of this argument around like a candy in her mouth, and found she liked the taste. Yes. The Towers were her ticket to prominence, a substitute to the powerful hierarchical family she was pushed from. She meant to get her foot in their door and use their ladder to climb Lhavit's lofty mountains. And if they had control of the city's most powerful resource that only meant there would be more for herself when the time came for her to join their feast.

"What do you think?" Savis asked low in her ear, sounding genuinely curious.

"The Towers have the right of it", she shrugged, sounding candid, though it was hard to ignore the sudden eagerness in her eye. "Magic is not a toy and not everyone in capable of wielding it. This city has been too lax about this powerful and dangerous ability, and it's about time things changed. Magic should be controlled, and be given to worthy students by master who know what they are doing." Her grin slivered between her lips, and she showed her ally the hint of the ambition that whirled through her mind. "This would benefit me, sure. But whoever thinks I have not earned my place does not know what I have done to get it."

She could hear her argument echoed back to her from half a dozen podiums, but an equal number seemed to be cutting the air with an argument for openness and diversity. Thinking about it, Madeira couldn't guess what side Savis would be on. True she had learned her magic at an institute, of sorts. Or at least a more controlled environment. Yet the Towers benefited her not at all, and could even hinder her if an embargo was placed over all other magic institutions.

"What's your opinion on it, Savis? Do you side with the Studio of Enchantment or the Towers?"

To their left a podium flanked by two marble Ethaefel statues was being vacated by an beet-faced, angrily swearing man. He was not stepping down willingly, but rather was being dragged down and frogmarched away by what might have been employees or just levelheaded citizens who did not appreciate his poor debate etiquette. The crowed before the podium were watching the spectacle, and nobody had yet to take the man's place above them. Madeira elbowed Savis gently in the ribs and motioned to the empty stand with her chin. Her blue eyes sparkled mischievously as she met Savis' beneath her cowl.

"Not that an opinion expressed to one person means anything. Would you defend it from an entire city?"

Just how far does this new confidence truly reach?, she wondered. Savis was not a truly gifted speaker, but that would only come with more practice. What she was is intelligent and cutting and observative, with a unique view of the world and magic. Madeira truly wanted to know what she had to say, and more than that, wanted others to know the power of her opinion and to respect her voice. Her dreams of being celebrated started with standing out in a crowed.

That being said...

Madeira reached over and adjusted her hood to further hide the Nuit's face. The undead were not loved here. If she could not hide her condition she would be safer expressing herself in the crowed than standing above them.

"Or speak from here if you prefer, if you want me up there first I'll make sure you're heard regardless."
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Postby Savis Maren on February 13th, 2019, 10:14 pm

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Savis Maren certainly was fractured, but not for the reasons that Madeira Craven imagined. Madness did not slip into the machinations of the Nuit's reason but brandished itself as trauma from the experiences of languishing in a rotting shell, waiting to die again. Undeath had never been kind to the Nuit, who persevered more out of spite rather than any grounded desire to stay as part of this world. Her time was up long ago, but she persisted, first as a slave gleaning magic from masters far beyond what this beautiful city had ever shown her. Then, as a shade, hidden away as she sought to find freedom from persecution that never ended. It only made sense for the Nuit to abandon the view of herself in favor of something magnificent and even beautiful.

'Princess' Savis Maren moved with a sway to her shambling pace, her head hidden beneath her cloak, but her chin held high and her petite frame straight in posture. The click of her heeled high boots followed her every step, and though today she was dressed (somewhat) plainly, inside there was the fire of her royal soul, begging for release from the sorry attire she need make do with during what she could only compare to an incubation period.

Then, Madeira Craven began to answer the Nuit's inquiry. It was a predictable retort, a shrug moving her shoulders and a monotone candidness fleeing from her lips.

"Magic is not a toy and not everyone is capable of wielding it. This city has been too lax about this powerful and dangerous ability, and it's about time things have changed..."

The Spiritist continued on her viewpoint the antithesis of the personal freedoms that Savis Maren had come to Lhavit in search of. Of course, if the Nuit took such an examination and was put before a judge and jury and deemed 'worthy' or 'not worthy' to learn the arcane, she'd laugh. Savis Maren, after all, was the possessor of five magicks, three of which she'd been paltry and incompetent in her entry, only to foster her understanding quickly enough to mask that she'd ever been anything but capable. Savis felt the disagreement rise from her soul, her lips curved into a wicked smirk when the Spiritist elbowed her in the ribs and motioned to the empty stands. The hood rose to encompass her features fully, and she was more than prepared. Saying nothing but allowing her hood to bounce with the nod, she began her way to that empty podium.

Letting some bad blood out with passionate argumentation sounds exactly like what the princess ordered, she mused, keeping her inexpressive countenance neutral, but her silver eyes gleaned with the ambition of being seen.

Savis Maren, the defender of the independent. Savis Maren, the wealth of knowledge. Princess Maren, the voice of the people, she thought, liking each title more and more before she turned and headed towards the podium. It seemed that another was on his way there, and the Nuit breached into the depths of her soul. She pulled the astral from the physical, letting only her hand at the wrist unhinge from its corporeal bounds. As the man sought to fill the space, he'd feel his shirt rise up to constrict around his neck. The Nuit pulled back with just enough force to cause discomfort before she breathed into his ear,

"Ladies first," the flowers of the mountain interlaced with the faint stench of formaldehyde bringing the gentleman to a moment of nausea, just enough for the Nuit to push past him and take her place along on the podium.

"I can make myself heard, thank you very much," she said at last in answer to Madeira's posturing. The Nuit was no practised speaker, but she certainly wasn't shy either. The projected hand released the gentleman's shirt, and Savis Maren pulled the spectral limb back into place, her lips, just visible beneath her hood, curved into a wide smile as she waited for Madeira Craven to take the fray.

"As I was-" she found that her voice was swallowed by the rest. Debate continued hotly throughout, with so many voices rising above the many and Savis Maren allowed laughter to pool from her lips. She reached up and lowered her hood, allowing her grayish pallour and her unnerving silver eyes to breach into common view as she coughed loudly,

"AS I WAS SAYING-" and immediately, the Basilika went quiet. Low gasps and whispers emerged from the peanut gallery.

"A nuit!"

"Undead!"

"Monster!"

Savis Maren merely laughed off their judgments, for now... the entirety of attention was on the pair. And surely, given her nature, the Nuit possessed a disadvantage to sway the crowd. But, then again, Savis Maren did not reveal her identity in order to get people to agree with her.

"To answer your question, Madeira Craven," she added, emphasizing the name to the countless 'oohs', the whirlwind of rumour. Two relatively unknown, but rumoured entities prepared for verbal battle, and Savis Maren felt a surge of anticipation as she continued to speak.

"I side with liberty and with the evolution of craft. A monopoly of power given to three allied entities only allows one viewpoint, one voice of the many practitioners of magic to coalesce. There is no maturation of knowledge, expunging of archaic ideas and quelling of inferior lessons if only one entity has control of all of the power.

I've been to such places. There is a citadel with a legion of undead like myself, all mages and all so wrapped up in their independent affairs. Alliances become poisonous, and hollow causes become replaced by the self-serving egoism of those who become too complacent with their place in the world."

The Nuit preached the ideas of evolution, the growing understanding of the arcane only further fuelling her ideas, and it seemed, even with her weak voice and the short stutter in her words as she sought to gather her thought, that the prejudice began to wither away. The crowd looked in earnest between the pregnant Spiritist and the undead woman, and Savis Maren realized at this moment that she no longer wanted to hide from the world.
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Postby Madeira Craven on February 14th, 2019, 12:38 am

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"I can make myself heard, thank you very much."

Ah, there she was, the Savis she knew. Spitting venom, too proud to accept help. Madeira flinched when the Nuit threw off her hood, to predictable response.

"A nuit!"

"Undead!"

"Monster!"

That is not how you win the fight, you fool. Madeira put her head in her hand, exasperated yet still slightly impressed. Savis knew how to silence a room and make herself heard, at the very least. But maybe it wasn't about swaying the crowed for her, because when Savis spoke next, she spoke only to her.

She spoke like a scholar, with words that denoted higher learning and a detailed example that proved her point. Her words were heavy with doom, throwing around the ideas of a power monopoly and archaic ideas. Her intelligence was on full display and unmistakable. She was... well, she was good. Madeira couldn't help but smile as eyes turned on them, Savis on her lofty perch and Madeira looking up from below. A worthy opponent, she purred.

"Spoken like a true freedom fighter. How... short sighted of you." She began, feeling the fire of verbal sparing light up her bones. "Liberty, evolution...You think magic as a concept will grow taller just because you've sown the seeds over a larger field? You said yourself that in this undead citadel everyone was a mage, and all wrapped up in their independent affairs and self-serving egoism. In the future you want you will only follow them. In that future we will be saturated with inferior teachers, each one untethered from the whole, beholden only to themselves, every student learning a slightly different version than his peers. We won't be working together, growing our magic or our knowledge. We'll be stagnant, fragmented, our knowledge weak and incomplete. And in the end those seeds will be nothing but a thousand stunted weeds.

"But what if we worked together? What if we panted one mighty seed, and together built something greater? We make the Towers bigger, better, a thousand masters with a thousand voices, speaking as one. We could pool our knowledge through these sources the Towers provide us, learning from each other and expanding the study of magic in new and exciting ways. Magic demands structure. Support. It will cave in on itself if it is forced to carry too many weaker minds, but so will it collapse if not held up by those of us strong enough to carry it. The Towers are offering us the only true way of higher learning, and we would be fools not to take it."

Madeira's own style of speaking was easily digestible, laden with metaphor and easy concepts, because she was not trying to sway Savis, she was trying to sway the people beneath her podium. She was playing the everyman, separating the Nuit from the crowed with 'you' and 'we'. Her voice was all hope, her words clear and carrying. Bright words from a young mother preaching unity, against the undead monster that stood above them preaching doom.

Savis had a rebuttal, Madeira knew she did. The Spiritist looked her in the eye and raised a brow, the corner of her lip lifting as she braced for the blow. This was the only type of battle Madeira ever wanted.
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Postby Savis Maren on February 14th, 2019, 1:07 am

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"How... short sighted of you," the Spiritist began, and Savis Maren arched her eyebrows in surprise. The Nuit did not seek to insult her opponent, believing it in poor form and detracting from an argument. But, then, Madeira was the more experienced of the two. Perhaps her tactic was successful, for the words that followed painted a story of hope and understanding.

Honeyed words speaking to an optimistic future. Working together? I didn't say that this approach was wrong or even something to avoid, she noted. Madeira Craven spoke her own doom, creating a future where independence created that same self-serving environment that the undead wished desperately to avoid here. Savis shook her head, allowing her gaze to flicker along the crowd. Now, rather than speaking to Madeira Craven, she spoke to the crowd. She raised her hands, resting her hands on the podium as she looked to the Spiritist.

"Hope is never the wellspring that silencers draw their inspiration from. This debate sparked from an overgiving incident, but is it the only one? Can you say that students of the Towers are unlikely to overgive, simply because they're judged by that entity as worthy?" the Nuit knew this issue better than the Craven, and utilized her awareness of the contents of the letter to her advantage. Madeira might be better served at swaying a crowd, but the Nuit didn't concern herself with their hearts. Instead, she appealed to their reason,

"Would the lot of you have your options so limited? Would you allow your hopes and dreams of arcane advancement limited by the indulgence in political machinations? These Towers are not an enemy to us, but they are not the only ally to have! I've taught several students, including the very woman I fight against now, and none of them have succumbed to madness or used their potential for evil causes.

You speak of unity, but the side you argue for does not. Your words are sweet silks, covering the cankers and tumors of a sickness that waits to form. The Towers are a resource, indeed, but one of many, and their active discouragement of indulgence anywhere else is evidence of their desire to stamp out the voices of other learned souls that might be cruder, but just as relevant to the furtherment of magical understanding."

The Nuit was prepared, knowing this argument rested in her hands, for the entirety of the Basilika went quiet. There were no other voices arguing the point, for the divisiveness between Spiritist and Nuit epitomized the points of both sides.

"The Towers seek not the most competent or the most intelligent to flock under their banner. They seek those who can find a recommendation, and yet... some of us might never receive such a thing. What of the visitor, who seeks to grow their understanding but is ignorant of the workings of our lovely city. What of the hermit, whose skills are plentiful but their desire to seek out alliances is limited? The private researcher is marred by this isolation, and they can seek assistance from these independent practitioners, finding like-minded souls with ambitions that they wish to keep discrete."

Savis Maren spoke from experience. She did not seek out personal tutelage from the Towers, not trusting the higher echelon of Lhavit's aristocratic families with her fate.

"And what of those magicks that the Towers do not teach, hm? Where will we go if our independent practitioners are shunned and blamed for the poor actions and lacking awareness of their students? Elena Lariat is certainly not in the right here. She failed her student and they tried to attack others. But, would you rather live in safety, protected by those who have the iron fist to decide your studies?"

Now, Savis Maren spoke fully to the crowd, her silver eyes darting between Madeira Craven and the rest. She knew what she wanted to say, and she understood the issue. It was up to the Spiritist to convince her that she was wrong if she was to put down her sword.

Show me, Madeira, what you're capable of without that wicked magic to back up your words.
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Postby Madeira Craven on February 21st, 2019, 3:58 am

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That's more like it, Madeira nodded, smiling to herself as Savis addressed the room at large. She was trying to take the crowed back from Madeira, and was no longer speaking to the Spiritist like she was the only one in the room. That was public speaking. Madeira and Savis and their singular opinions didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, what mattered was who's opinion spread the most inflammatory message. Mob mentality was not something to take lightly, and Savis' message unsettled many minds, it's impact spreading like a disease, instilling fear of restriction and government and the suffocation of knowledge.

"Free knowledge sounds like such a wonderful concept." Madeira began her rebuttal. "What a utopia this city would be, if all those with an interest in the great and terrible power of magic and its many forms could find anyone off the street willing to teach them. If people with half an ounce of talent from far and wide could come to Lhavit to bestow their wisdom... But you forget the nature of human beings. Should the impulsive and wrathful be given the seed of Reimancy? Should the untested and incompetent be allowed to teach Summoning? You suggest free reign and expect people to govern themselves, and prove you do not understand what makes them people.

To answer your question, we choose safety. Always! This is not the political game you think it is. You must be known in this city to learn magic, it is true. The Towers have demanded that we prove ourselves to this city, through work with the Shinya or the Constellations or by approval from Zintila herself. And only then will the applicant be screened, and finally they may earn the right to these powerful, wonderful, dangerous practices. That is the way it should be! We want one institution! We want safety in our streets! We want magic to be respected, handled by those who have proven themselves worthy of it. No more incompetent teachers and untested students. We want change! We want protection! We want unity!

Savis might seek their reason, but Madeira aimed for the heart. She pumped her fist and chanted the last words, whipping those who agreed with her into a frenzy of support.

"We want change! We want protection! We want unity!"

She led them into a rally cry that shook the dust from the ceiling before she let it subside. By the end her cheeks were flush and her breathing came deep. Those who took up the cry too were high off the fellowship that came with being part of such vocal solidarity.
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
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Battle!

Postby Savis Maren on February 21st, 2019, 7:12 pm

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Again, Madeira Craven seemed to misunderstand what the Nuit was saying. She spoke to the point of 'free' and believed it to mean the same as uninhibited. The undead was certainly no fool, but perhaps her means of conveyence required some work? She looked to the crowd and found that some seemed to resonate with her message, staying silent all the while the Spiritist's mantra of 'protection and unity' spewed its venom throughout. Savis did not seek to respond immediately, nor did she cut off the chants as they spewed forth. Instead, Savis clapped, letting her high, girlish laughter that so clashed with the visage of undeath. spill forth in earnest.

Emotions were high in the Basilika this evening, and Madeira Craven was an incredibly impressive woman for being able to stir them so magnificently. But, Savis Maren was not a creature so easily swayed. She shrugged her shoulder, allowing her laugh and her clapping to slowly steal the attention from the crowd. The silence resumed, and Savis placed her hands back onto the podium, her eyes only for Madeira at this juncture. To seize the crowd now seemed folly. No, instead, she'd bide her time, and push her pincers directly into the heart of Madeira's argument as she ruminated on her rebuttal. Then, when she spoke, her voice was so very low, and the crowd went entirely silent to hear what she had to say.

"Are you quite done? You're a charming woman, Madeira Craven, and pretty words certainly call to the hearts of the people around you. Even I was moved by your speech!" she says, the lie strong on her lips as she raised her hand to her chest.

"But, you've successfully misnamed my points at every juncture! You say I want open knowledge and no limitations? You speak lies laced with the evils of bias, and your allegiances shine brighter than ever because of it. We have a Tower teacher in our midst, and she's buttering her bread by the same hand that wishes to silence others!" she says, speaking louder and louder until at last she addressed the crowd.

"Would you have yourselves swayed by someone whose 'good intentions' are born from self-preservation? There are other means of ensuring our own safety without placing a noose on the independent instruction of our people, and you'll hear none of them from her!"

Savis Maren rebuked Madeira's rebuttal, believing her in the depths of her soul to be wrong. But, the irony of her own words didn't escape her. People like Elena Lariat had their uses to Savis Maren, for she knew that above the paltry fools who got themselves killed using magic, she was the one deserving of such powers. Without Elena Lariat, there were doors closed for the Nuit and she did her utmost to defend her position. If only for the faint hope that her defense might entreat her to that vain soul.

The Nuit smirked at the Spiritist as she watched the crowd. Some of the poor souls looked between Savis and Madeira with a very prevalent confusion on their faces. Others still looked to Craven while ignoring the Nuit, firmly entrenched in her propoganda. Then, there were a few who looked silently to Savis, nodding in affirmation to her reason.

Not everyone is capable of understanding logic. But, at least a few seem to have gathered my meaning.
Savis Maren
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Battle!

Postby Madeira Craven on May 8th, 2019, 5:53 am

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Madeira Craven

Skills
  • Politics: 3xp
  • Logic: 2xp
  • Persuasion: 2xp
  • Leadership: 1xp

Lores
  • Tenten: the scholars peak
  • Location: Bharani library
  • Spiritism: ghosts have a shelf life
  • Allies: best when voracious
  • Location: Basilika
  • Politics: a game of prominence
  • Politics: playing the everyman
  • Politics: popular support
  • Persuasion: swaying a crowed with inflammatory words
  • Leadership: the power of mob mentality

Awards & Retribution


Notes
Notes here.
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Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 1311
Words: 1103279
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
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Medals: 8
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
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Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
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