by Inferi » Wed Mar 13, 2013 2:26 am
Very few of the splendors of Stormbluff appealed to the hooded mage walking through their streets. The sight of the ocean only reminded him of the infinite journey that he still needed to walk to reach his goal, and the smell drifting in over the cliff was unpleasant to his senses. The effect of the ocean on the air had never been around while he was growing up, and his travels in the last eight years had given him little time near the great mass of water. Many may see it as majestic, awe-inspiring, or grand, but Xalvor disagreed with all of them. Everything that he knew pointed to a single fact: The greatest legacy of the sea was death. How many sailors had set out, never to return, leaving behind a family that would never even know what had happened to the one they loved? Trade routes by sea were just as dangerous if not more so than those by land, the threat of pirates added to by that of storms, rocks, and creatures in the depths. The latter was not something many believed in, but the mage was sure they existed. Mystical creatures of all stripes lived on land, and it made little sense that just as many would not exist under the cover of the sheet of water that spread to the horizon. There was nowhere to run when a storm came, no shelter to take except in a flimsy vessel constructed by beings that could not possibly stand up to the sheer might that nature possessed. You were helpless, at the mercy of the elements, with nobody to save you when things went wrong.
Everything about the sea spoke of the frailty of man, of the limitations placed on mortal forms. There was only so much one could do to gain dominance over the world, and, in the end, the world would always have the upper hand. All mages could harness the power of the world for their own use, but when the world chose to strike back man would always lose.
Sighing, Xalvor ducked into an alley, taking a route to avoid the crowds at the center of the city. He knew that thinking in a cynical manner was less than helpful to a mindset of someone on his type of journey, that he should focus on the positive aspects of such a thing. Travel across the seas was invaluable in terms of trade routes, transportation, or travel to the far corners of the world, and it was such a thing that had brought him to Stormbluff in the first place. That had been seven years ago, and he had been different then. So much younger, so eager to find his answers and so hopeful that he actually would. Such enthusiasm had dissipated over the years, the failures to find such things escaping at every turn. His first visit here had been for nearly a year as he tried everything. He had asked everyone that had been across the seas if they had found anything like what he had, looked at almost every book that he could find for a description, and asked people from all over the continent if they had seen or knew anything. It all turned up nothing, and the young man that had left the city on his twentieth birthday was not the same one that had entered.
Six years had passed since then, and he still knew just as little now as he had before. Nobody that he had met had ever seen a stone like what he had used in any kind of magic ritual, and any conversations with other mages proves just as fruitless as conversing with his parents. The stone was dead, devoid of magic, and there was nothing that connected any kind of magic that anyone knew about. Every word tried had failed, and even though he could remember most of the symbol that his sister had drawn, there was no mention of anything like it in any of the books he went through. It was like she had created something completely on her own, something new that nobody had ever tried before. Such a possibility was one he tried not to think of as an option, for a lack of reference of any kind would make such a ritual impossible to recreate. With no known word to activate the stone, and only his memory to recreate the symbol, Xalvor knew that he would never find the answer to what he was seeking. Yet still he searched, his commitment drifting into obsession. He neglected his daily magical training, neglected his knowledge of the art, and focused solely on his search. What he knew now was a shadow of what he had known back then, and, looking back on the events, it was not hard to realize how foolish he had been. Seeking after every scholar and powerful mage he could find, spending months on end searching through tomes so old that few would touch them for fear of the items falling apart, travelling all across the continent on a mad search for something he knew nothing about…there had never been an end in sight, never a glimpse of the goal.
And in the end, none of it helped at all. There was no answer.
He did not know when the realization had come, and did not care to look back to find out. Looking back was glancing into a chasm as infinitely deep as the path stretching before him was long, and he did not care to look into the depths for fear that they would swallow him once more. His obsession had very nearly led to a destruction of everything he had struggled to become, and it had taken that for him to see how hopeless his attempts were. Nobody that he could search out had known anything, and although his overall knowledge of past magic, including spells, rituals, and catalysts, was likely superior to most people he would come across he knew as little as they.
“Come with me.”
He paused for a moment, glancing down at the robe that the stone was concealed under. Melody’s last gesture was still burned into his mind, and it was as confusing to him now as it was then. Everything she had ever done was deliberate, calculated, and yet the only time he had ever seen her confused was the few seconds when the spell had triggered the defenses of the tower. He believed she knew exactly what she had summoned, but whatever the tower had done had interfered with the nature of her spell. Melody wasn’t one for just creating power for the sake of having it, and it was that which confused him. For the tower to consider her a threat, whatever she had made was either unfamiliar or something that had been judged as a threat in the past. Considering what he had learned – nothing – it seemed that the former was the case, and whatever it was, she hadn’t expected it to be considered a threat. If she truly intended for him to come with her upon the spell’s completion, then he wondered if the invitation would have originally been to just him or if she had wanted their entire family to go. Why, though? What was beyond the vortex that she had summoned that was so important? He needed to know, had sworn he would find out, and was still intent on keeping that vow, yet he knew now that the way wasn’t as he had been doing. Years spent trying to find something in every way possible that had turned up nothing made him realize that there was likely only one way he would ever find out: by chance. It was a way that he had never put any measure of confidence in, yet it seemed it was the only option now. It was why he had returned to Stormbluff, why he was accepting the job offer of the merchant that wanted an escort.
He intended to drift, repairing the damage that he had done to his own magical talents, and perhaps that would yield something that his search had not.
Resuming his walk, the mage lifted the bottom of the robe slightly to avoid a puddle in the alleyway. The robe was a recent addition, one of the items he had acquired in the effort to rebuild his magical ability. Runic symbols of all types adorned the black cloth, some more elaborate or intimidating than others. Some might think that such a robe would grant him extraordinary magical abilities, but he knew better. Only one set of the runes were active, and it was for such a reason that he had been able to find the robe at a reasonable price. That, and the one he had purchased it from had little knowledge of what they held. Perhaps the other runes could be activated in time when his abilities returned, but for now only one of the enhancements was active. It was not an unreasonable one, and assisted with the spellcasting abilities he possessed, but he was sure that it could do quite a bit more. It was better than the plain gray robe he had donned before, though, and so Xalvor was content with wearing it. Any kind of an advantage was still an advantage, and he needed all the advantages he could get right now.
As he exited the empty alley and continued down the street towards the tavern he was supposed to be finding the merchant in, the mage’s thoughts turned to the job. He had already put much thought into it, and in the end, he had decided the long journey was perfect for what he was trying to do. The job description itself was simple, yet he knew that such a journey was far from simple. They were crossing nearly the entirety of the Free Lands, and what could happen in that time was anyone’s guess. The journey had equal opportunities to be uneventful, dangerous, and helpful to him. A great distance had a much more likely chance of granting an encounter with an unknown that may give him something he wanted to know, and it would give him much time to gain back what he had lost. Experience in real situations was more valuable than studying in a tower, or so he believed, and it was doubtful that there would not be opportunities to encounter such situations during this escort.
It had not just been the job itself that had drawn Xalvor towards seeking and accepting the posting. Mallbrunn likely wouldn’t remember, but he had assisted the mage when he had first come to the city seven years before. The lost young man had wandered into the man’s shop, asking only two questions: “Where is the best place someone can stay in this city?” and, when the answer to that had been given, “Do you know what this stone is?” Even though the answer to the second question had been a no, the mage had thanked him and walked out. It wasn’t something many would consider as important, but Xalvor had never repaid him at all for his help and felt that this was a reasonable way to do so while still profiting from it. The mage did not like having debts, even if nobody else recognized them as such, so a way to remove them from his mind would help more than just the person he was assisting.
There was no pause as he reached the Laughing Rooster, a place that he had only been in a few times before. Taverns in general were something he was actually a little fond of, although it might just be because the alcohol was very useful to take his mind off the pages that had been swirling through his head after his days of searching. It was surprising how high his alcohol tolerance was, although days spent retching after the first several nights spent in taverns might speak of a different beginning to that story. Disregarding that, though, they were also a good place to meet people you wouldn’t be expecting to meet, and many favorable situations had come from a chance meeting in such a place. They weren’t all horrible dens of belligerent individuals, although many would most certainly fit that stereotype. Hell, he had even been one of those people a few times.
Pushing open the door, Xalvor stepped inside the tavern, letting it close behind him as he appraised the current situation. A group of adventurers were present, making a ruckus over to the side. Nothing new there. If they hadn’t been there, he would have been suspicious about the lack of such people in an establishment like this. Other than them and the innkeeper, the only other person present was the merchant himself and someone else that appeared to be talking to him. A female, and an elf, no less. Interesting. Xalvor had no issue with elves, and in fact welcomed their company when he came into contact with one if they were willing to do the same. They always had different viewpoints on things than humans did, and many of them had given him knowledge that humans were unable to.
Walking over to the table, his walk was both deliberate and paced. It wasn’t to give an impression of anything; it was simply the way he walked. Every step was measured, careful, in line with his own focused personality. A careful step between chairs, a turn to avoid two tables too close together; all of it spoke of the measure of self-control that he possessed. Even the way he sat down across the table from the merchant was deliberate, as though he was planning everything out before he did it. Why the elven woman, or young woman if her appearance was any indication, was still standing was a curiosity, although depending on her intention it mike make a certain amount of sense. For him, though, entering into this agreement with the merchant was an absolute, and so taking a seat seemed to make sense, as did placing his elbows on the table and leaning forward slightly in his chair, as many people did when they were conducting business.
“I would like to offer my magical services to you regarding your required escort to Crimlak.” he said, his voice serious, calm, and steady. As he spoke, the mage pulled back his hood just a little, so that his face could be seen. It seemed impolite to offer his assistance to the man without letting him know what he even looked like. “My name is Xalvor Destoria.”
To him, there was no reason the man would not accept, as he seemed like a reasonable individual, but humans were driven by emotions that nobody could begin to predict and the mage knew the only answer he would be able to trust for sure was the one the merchant himself would give.
You know what the chain of command is? It's the chain I get and beat you with until you realize who's in command around here.
