Camuel Arnauld

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

/---------------\/----------------------------------------------\

| Camuel        ||  the Knight of Legion                        |

\---------------/\----------------------------------------------/

| Str: 21(21)^2 || Level: 30 Sex: M      Age  : 26(102h)        |

| Int: 18(18)   || Class: dark-knight    Ethos: lawful          |

| Wis: 18(18)   || Race : human          Align: evil            |

| Dex: 20(20)^3 || Hp   :  420/420       Exp  : 12908/199492    |

| Con: 20(20)   || Mana :  439/439                              |

\ Lck: [||||--] \/ Move :  360/360       +Hit: 21   +Dam: 16    /

/---------------/\------------------/\--------------------------\

|    ARMOR      ||      SAVES       || Deity : Chayesh          |

| Slash :   -63 || Spell      :  0  || Faith : Necropsy         |

| Pierce:   -56 || Afflictive :  0  || Weight: 179/375          |

| Blunt :   -63 || Maledictive: -15 || Items : 25/37            |

| Magic :   -63 || Mental     : -14 || Prac  : 26    Train: 5   |

|               ||                  || Gold  : 34k              |

\---------------\/------------------\/--------------------------/

/ Condition: You are in the prime of your health.               \

\---------------------------------------------------------------/


<420hp 439m 360mv> <1600hours 12908exp> 

prof self mastered

You have mastered the following:

 1. axe

 2. dagger

 3. flail

 4. mace

 5. polearm

 6. shield block

 7. spear

 8. sword

 9. whip

10. dodge

11. enhanced damage

12. hand to hand

13. parry

14. second attack

15. recall

16. dual wield

17. two handed

Thanks to all of the people who engaged me in RP, particularly Mathicus and Belegriel. You two were with me from the start, and it was almost eerie how well the RP slid into place.

It was a real pity that I did not get vampire, because I would have enjoyed developing the RP plot more, expanding it past Camuel's shard, and the Emlentum.

However, it was not to be. And so I killed Camuel off tonight, throughout a rather lengthy (and confusing, to most of the observers) RP session. It was good to see people react so openly to an RP they knew nothing about. I appreciate everyone's participation, and it reaffirms my belief that this MUD has some of the best RPers around.

There will be no teary farewells, because I had a lot of fun with this character. I would, however, like to deliver one last set of props. Mathicus, Belegriel, Mathicus, Isadora, Mathicus, Korthian, Mathicus, Suunmar, Mathicus, Malchaeius, Mathicus, EVERYONE ELSE (and Mathicus)!

It was a good run, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

Logs of the beginning, development and culmination of the RP plot will be posted shortly - for now, however, I can offer you this intro:

Compulsion. A powerful word, and a powerful act.

Known to some as force, and to others as power, this

singular noun can be transformed into a verb or

adjective, used in any manner of speech to describe any

number of things. My tale is a story of compulsion, of

an unusual variety. If that can be said, of course,

knowing that all compulsion is, in fact, unusual.

However, I shall let you be the judge of what is and what

is not.

Once upon a time… for this tale begins quite some time

ago, though Compulsion has kept my body young… bah,

I get ahead of myself. Some time ago, an indeterminate

amount, I was youthful. Not in body alone, but in spirit

as well. My soul was naïve and innocent, and thus

susceptible to many forms of temptation. Indulging one

such fancy on an indistinguishable day, now merely a

memory of my fading childhood, I leapt and danced in a

quarry, south of the excavation of Mount Khorand.

Though my guardians had repeatedly warned me to stay

away from such a hazardous locale, and numerous signs

were posted marking the territory treacherous, I

proceeded at my own risk, which I soon found might be

more than I had bargained for. Frolicking deeper into

the ever descending mine, I was care free in the

ignorance of youth. Not only ignorant of the world and

its inhabitants, but ignorant as well of the dangers it

presented. My own intentions were merely to enjoy

myself while I could, for all things beautiful must

inevitably end.

However, as I proceeded, a call beckoned to me. Being

young and foolish, I ventured forth, seeking out

whatever it was that sought me in return. When I

approached the source of the call, a rock that seemed to

pulsate with an inner blackness, I was struck by some

immortal fury. Death consumed me, and I floated on the

verge of the afterlife. But, as if some meddling healer

had found me on the brink, I was brought back to my

corpse. The only difference, of course, from a

resurrection, was the fact that I had no choice in the

matter. Perilous as the journey to Death may be, my

eternal rest beckoned to me with welcome warmth.

Stripped of this joyous rapture, I was left in my mortal

shell, dazed by the strength of the powers that had taken

me and brought me back. When I finally regained my

senses (I cannot say composure, for I was still quite

shocked and frightened, at the time), I managed to look

about the area in which what seemed a lifetime had

passed in a matter of seconds. Odd, that I should notice

such at this point, and odder still that it should surprise

me, but the glowing rock I had seen no longer existed.

In its place, floated a crystalline shard of pure blackness.

However, this power was not Death, as I had assumed.

Though it nearly destroyed me with its magnitude, this

power was something else entirely; something I would

not discover until later. As I struggled to my feet, the

flickering light of inner midnight I had seen before rose

with me. The shard settled itself into orbit around my

body, circling about my person slowly.

Bewildered, and presuming myself to be dreaming, I

made my best effort to ignore my ‘companion’, and

sought the sanctuary of my home. To define my

adventures was ability beyond my then-present capacity,

and thus I recounted them only to myself. Strangely, this

tactic was not amiss, as seemingly none of my peers

could see the shard, in its continuous trajectory around

me. As the days wore on, however, my former

adventures could not compare to the simultaneous

destruction and creation I had witnessed, and been a part

of. My inherent desire to return to the peace that had

been offered me gnawed at every fiber of my being, until

I could control it no more. Seeking out followers of the

Dark Lord Chayesh, in the ways of Necropsy, I began

my study of Death. However, even the priests of

undeath could not quench my thirst for knowledge – for

while they seek to escape from death, I sought to run

full-speed toward it. Dismissed from their teachings, I

was sent out into the weary world once more, to tread

my path alone. And tread I did, for the time I spent

researching my predicament was immense.

That was when the change began to happen. Nothing

extraordinarily noticeable, at first. I began to imagine

(or so I thought I was imagining) that I could distinguish

the boundaries of the fabric of order and chaos. The red

and white tinged flames of chaos sent shivers down my

spine, and the dark, warm blackness of order soothed my

senses in ways I could not comprehend. Then, as the

days wore on, I noticed a change in my physical being. I

became physically ill, when approached by extreme

chaos, and felt a welcoming sensation, similar to that

which I experienced in the mine, when met with extreme

order. Finally, one day, a remarkable transformation

occurred. The veins in my arms, legs, and chest and all

over my body began to change color. Not to any sight

other than my own, but they turned deepest black. Order

veritably ran through my veins, locking chaos from my

being. Only in order could I find the soothing warmth

that I had sought for so long. And now it had appeared

in my lap, though not how I expected. However, this

transformation is not the release I once thought I could

find. Even now, the shard of what I now recognize as an

embodiment of Order, spins its web around my body,

compelling me to follow a path I never knew existed.

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

Mathicus and Camuel's first meeting:

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

Camuel tells you 'Greetings, master Herald... Mathicus, was it?'

You tell Camuel 'Yes, I am Mathicus. Can I help you?'

Camuel tells you 'I'm not sure, as of yet. Perhaps.'

Camuel tells you 'Forgive me though, I have forgotten my manners.'

Camuel tells you 'I am Camuel, Camuel Arnauld.'

Camuel tells you 'I have some... questions, that I have been trying to discern the answers to.'

Camuel tells you 'And perhaps, as a librarian, you could offer me some aid in that department.'

You tell Camuel 'I could certainly try, Camuel.'

Camuel tells you 'Might we speak outside of your library?'

Edge of the Plains

The edge of the Plains here has a decimated look to it. The ground is

charred, and grasses struggle to grow from the barren looking landscape.

Few creatures wander here, whether from fear or lack of sustenance it

matters not. Towards the south appears to be a huge depression in the

ground. To the North is a path leading to a much more appealing landscape.

Camuel rides in.

A fire giant slave walks in.

A stone golem walks in.

Camuel bows deeply.

Mathicus nods his head as a greeting.

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'Greetings and salutations, Master Herald.'

Mathicus rasps, 'Greetings, Camuel.'

Camuel inclines his head slightly. 'I have read many of your works. I am somewhat of a fan, you might say.'

Mathicus folds his arms and leans against the Herald gate.

A vague smile appears on Mathicus's face. 'Thank you.'

Mathicus rasps, 'That is very encouraging.'

Camuel smiles slightly, dark eyes twinkling.

Camuel inclines his head once more, 'If I may...?'

Mathicus fails to make eye contact with Camuel. 'Do go on.'

Mathicus rolls up a sleeve while frisking his coat pocket.

Camuel nods his head, 'Well, as I mentioned, my name is Camuel. If I may ask, what is it you can learn about me from an initial glance?'

A young man is here, shrouded in an aura of black. However corporeal the

darkness around him is, however, he is not surrounded by the chill of evil.

Rather, he seems to radiate warmth, and a feeling of peace. High

cheek-bones mark him nobly born, but his pleasant, if worn, demeanor define

him more accurately as someone raised in a happy life. Sparkling green eyes

simultaneously exude a curiosity and a welcome embrace for the unknown.

Jet-black locks of hair, streaked with silver intermittently, are carefully

combed to the side of his head.

Dressed in casual, though well-made attire, this man does not appear to

express the grander side of life he may have experienced. Judging by the

dark brown leather vest, covering a spotless cream-colored tunic, he appears

content to be who he is, not who he was born. Rolled to his sleeves, the

tunic reveals bare, muscular forearms, and large strong hands. Oddly, his

veins appear to run black, rather than blue or red, but initial analysis can

tell no more.

His lower body, similarly clothed in elegantly made attire that was

seemingly tailored to blend in with peasantry, is not marked by the dust of

constant travel. Midnight black boots, polished to shine brightly, are

tucked into his pants leg, and they bear almost no sign of use. The most

distinguishing feature of the man, however, is a black crystalline shard,

that seems to revolve around him. Dark and ephemeral, it pulsates with an

inner light, flickering as it continues its eternal orbit.

Camuel continues, 'Perhaps that I appear human. Maybe even that I could be considered to walk a dark path, no?'

Mathicus's eyes focus. 'I am not ... aware of what guild it is you're a member of.'

Camuel frowns slightly, 'But if you will notice,' and he gestures to the shard that orbits around him, 'Not all is what it seems.'

'You look like nobility', Mathicus says, his smile widening.

Camuel chuckles softly, 'Rhetoric, my dear man, to make a point. This shard will be the focus of our conversation, I fear.'

Mathicus shoots a glance at the shard. 'Yes?'

Camuel rubs his hand against his right forearm. He then extends both arms, wrists up. 'You will notice, that I am not exactly... normal.'

Camuel gestures with one hand, to the glittering black veins under the skin of his other arm.

Mathicus holds his breath as he leans for a better view. 'Mhn.'

Camuel frowns. 'And it is because of this shard. Because Order has taken me for its own.'

Mathicus's brow knits. 'This is Order's doing?'

Camuel coughs slightly, 'If I may bore you for a moment with a bit of history, things might become more clear.'

Mathicus gestures, but in no particular direction. 'I'm listening.'

Camuel waves a hand dismissively, 'An indeterminate amount of time ago, I stumbled across this shard. It is no gem, as you may be able to tell, and it certainly not a treasure. As far as I can determine...'

Camuel sighs. 'It is a concentrated deposit of Order, of unknown origin.'

Camuel continues softly, 'This shard... has attached itself to me. Not intelligently, like a parasite - it is not sentient. But rather as an addition.'

Mathicus's back presses to the door. A hint of distress crosses his face.

Camuel hesisitates momentarily, before finishing his statement, 'And now I am what you might call... Order-bound.'

Mathicus holds up a palm. 'Wait, wait.'

'What do you mean by a 'deposit of Order'?' Mathicus asks, his eye narrow behind his spectacles.

Camuel chuckles, 'I know little more than you, in that regard. That is where my questions begin. But the best I can explain it, is like this.'

An eerie sense of understanding flickers in Mathicus's unsteady gaze. 'Go on.'

Camuel gestures in the air, 'Imagine two boxes, one inside another. Each is filled with a liquid, but neither liquid mixes. The outer box, contains Order. The inner box, contains Chaos. Locked within Order, Chaos is within balance, as is Order.'

Mathicus folds his arms again, though a little more tightly.

Camuel continues, 'And yet, with every birth, more Order and more Chaos spring into the world. Over the years, this Balance has remained, but it has... grown.'

Camuel says 'Sometimes focusing itself into a single entity. Such entities include Lord Caimor, Lord Izlimak, Lord Prax, and even so far back as Lord Bregyn.'

Camuel nods to himself, 'However, when each of these beings have left, their Order remained. And now the balance swells out of proportion, and threatens to break free of its bounds.'

Camuel halts suddenly. 'But I get ahead of myself. We will reach that point in our discussion.'

The straightness in Mathicus's posture wanes. 'Very well...'

Camuel nods in your direction. 'As far as an Order deposit goes, it is my belief that this shard represents a portion of the Order that was once focused in the aforementioned entities.'

Mathicus watches the shard carefully for a moment. His eyes smoothly follow the rotation of it. 'You're implying that this thing isn't exactly, one hundred percent physical?'

Camuel nods his head in agreement. 'You are correct. It cannot be touched, cannot be destroyed.'

Mathicus shifts his jaw and curses. 'Ooh, Rift.'

His eyes gawking, Mathicus presses his knuckles to his mouth.

Camuel frowns slightly, 'You can see wherein the problem lies. As I do not bear the same immortal qualities, as the shard's former host...'

Camuel trails off, eyes falling to the ground.

Mathicus asks, 'Did you find it, or did it find you?'

Camuel shrugs his shoulders, 'Technically, I stumbled across it. Whether it compelled me to do so, is beyond my knowledge.'

'I will be honest with you...', Mathicus mentions, his voice creaking.

Mathicus rasps, 'This whole thing is all so familiar to me, and frighteningly so.'

Camuel frowns, cocking his head to one side. 'How so?'

Absently, Mathicus turns to the hall and sighs. 'I would... ask you in, but...'

Mathicus pauses and elevates his gaze to the sky. 'Well, you understand.'

Camuel nods.

'Uhhhm', Mathicus exhales, looking quite at a lack for words.

Camuel frowns, 'Though I have nothing to offer but the ground, please, have a seat.'

Mathicus holds up his hands. 'No no, I am fine.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I will explain to you what I found.'

'Assuming, of course, that you can keep it a secret', Mathicus adds.

Camuel frowns, staring at you curiously. Nodding, he gestures for you to continue.

Mathicus murmurs, 'My late colleague, Jisil Gwycae, 'stumbled' across an artifact about seventy years ago.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I was permitted to study it when I was just a scribe.'

Mathicus continues, 'The artifact was shaped like a sphere. A perfect, colorless sphere, clear like glass and opaque like silver all at once.'

'It was much like, and unlike a mirror', Mathicus tries to explain.

Mathicus inhales jaggedly. 'The object had incredible power. It would return force upon anything that put force on it.'

Mathicus rasps, 'If you blew on it, you'd feel a humid wind. If you kicked it, it would 'kick' right back.'

Mathicus weaves his fingers. 'Anyway, I named it the Emlentum.'

Camuel nods slightly, gesturing for you to continue.

Mathicus rasps, 'It... did other, more terrifying things, but I'll not touch on that yet.'

Mathicus clears his throat softly.

Mathicus stammers again, 'Uhhm, well...'

'I believed, and still do to this day, that the object fell from Nercuros', Mathicus continues.

Mathicus rasps, 'The very shape of it symbolized Balance, and in every way.'

'If you held it in front of the ... grey moon', Mathicus presses as he turns a momentary gaze at a white crescent in the sky.

Mathicus continues, looking back to you, 'It would... well, vanish.'

Mathicus rasps, 'Or become invisible. I still don't know.'

'All I know is that by it's shape alone, it told a story', Mathicus explains.

Mathicus mumbles, 'Err, for example... A sphere has no sides, right?'

Mathicus rasps, 'Nor does Balance. The Emlentum had no color. Nor does Balance.'

Mathicus rasps, 'It took the shape of the moon and it returned physical force equal to force given.'

Mathicus leans back against the gate door again. 'I was convinced that the minerals in the sphere belonged to the moon. It was -the- grey Disk.'

Mathicus rasps, 'It was a monument to the ideal, however vague that doctrine may have been.'

Mathicus rasps, 'Until now, I've not spoken about it.'

Camuel frowns.

Mathicus scoffs. 'I practically stole it from Jisil those years ago because of my stupid curiosity.'

Camuel nods slightly, 'I see.'

Mathicus's eyes again seem attached to the hovering shard.

Camuel frowns, 'If artifacts of this caliber are present in the world, then things are more dire than I could have thought.'

'This may be entirely different', Mathicus replies.

Mathicus gestures at the shard with his thumb lazily. 'May be.'

Camuel shakes his head, 'That is not a risk we can afford to take. Ignoring whatever warning we might have could be fatal.'

Mathicus huffs a heavy sigh. 'The Emlentum did things to the persistent.'

Mathicus amends, 'Such as myself.'

Camuel frowns, 'We must be careful, but we cannot afford to pretend we know nothing. If we do know anything at all.'

Mathicus leans away from the door and closes the space between Camuel. He reaches toward the shard timidly.

The shard remains unaffected - it floats visibly through his hand.

Camuel shudders softly, as the black aura around him pulsates with your approach.

Mathicus quickly retracts his arm. 'Oh...!'

Camuel closes his eyes, taking a deep, ragged breath. 'Not to worry. I will be fine. Please, just don't do that again.'

Mathicus takes a hurried, uneasy breath. 'Right. Right right right.'

Mathicus nods his head several times.

Camuel opens his eyes, staring intently at you. 'We must begin a search.'

His eyes never still, Mathicus nods. 'Uhhm. Oh.'

Mathicus asks, 'What should we look for exactly?'

Camuel frowns, continuing, 'We must collect every artifact in these realms. Duplicates, weak, pathetic things... it doesn't matter. Any of them could contain something like what we have found.'

Camuel nods slightly, 'As we have both learned, not everything is quite what it seems.'

Mathicus's jaw loosens. 'I did do an extensive search on the Emlentum.'

A sturdy backpack holds:

( 2) Senrail Magebane, Warlord by Historian Mathicus Flon

( 2) Martineius, High King - II by Historian Mathicus Flon

( 2) Martineius, High King - I by Historian Mathicus Flon

A Map of Airia by Historian Mathicus Flon

Conglomerate Theory. by Scholar Daemian Sathyr

Map of Khorandain by Academician Mathicus Flon

Guild Going by Scholar Mathicus Flon

What is Religion? by Historian Jisil Gwycae

Sereniel Scribe of Truth I by Scribe Merriwren

Sereniel Scribe of Truth II by Scribe Merriwren

Sereniel Scribe of Truth III by Scribe Merriwren

Pelting Problem by Scribe Olguf

Blood Fud by Scribe Olguf

Thieberous Thoughts by Scholar Olguf

A Perplexing Perplexion by Herald Salana Orvanof

The Calendar of Aabahran by Academician Eldrigal Shrythara

Principles of the Tribunal by Herald Mathicus Flon

Principles of Citizenry by Herald Mathicus Flon

Petty Crimes by Herald Mathicus Flon

Severe Crimes by Historian Jisil Gwycae

Felonies by Herald Mathicus Flon

Atrocities by Herald Mathicus Flon

Obstruction of Justice by Herald Mathicus Flon

Extraneous Regulations by Herald Mathicus Flon

Guidelines on Pardons by Herald Mathicus Flon

Understanding the Balance by Scholar Irpel Brpel

The Chronicles, Vol.6 by Scholar Mathicus Flon

Prax Laws One by Historian Jisil Gwycae

The Inverted Circle by Academician Mathicus Flon

Reclaiming the Free Cities by Herald Mathicus Flon

You get The Inverted Circle by Academician Mathicus Flon from a sturdy backpack.

You give The Inverted Circle by Academician Mathicus Flon to Camuel.

Camuel frowns.

Mathicus rasps, 'That book is a record of some of the things the Emlentum 'spoke'.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I am going to retrace my steps and try to find out more about the shard. Rattle some memories, perhaps.'

Camuel frowns, 'We will not be enough.'

Camuel sighs softly, 'Tell me, what kind of... funding... do you have?'

'I... may have stumbled across information on the shard before', Mathicus whispers, mostly to himself.

Mathicus snaps from his 'trance'. 'What?'

Camuel says mildly, 'We must engage everyone. The whole world is at risk, so the whole world must be on the lookout.'

Camuel frowns, 'But we cannot alert the populace, not yet. Under a pretense, we could have everyone alert.'

Mathicus casts his usual, lukewarm stare. 'I am able to keep many things hidden.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'I have already dropped hints to some of the gods. Eshaine, for one.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'But never have I reached this point in a discussion.'

Mathicus rasps, '...Hnn. I've only mentioned the Emlentum to Isadora.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I make talk with her frequently, though.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I'll bring the shard to her attention as well.'

Camuel nods.

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'But I still say we must start a search.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'However, my own funds are rather limited, at present.'

'Oh, I will', Mathicus assures. 'I have plenty of... funds, as well.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I also have connections with KBS, as well with the Savant Tower.'

Camuel nods.

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'Good, good.'

'Politically, I am very sound', Mathicus adds, a tad of pride in his tone.

Camuel frowns slightly, 'We must make plans. There is much to do little time.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'In little time, that is.'

Mathicus swallows some air. 'I'll begin reading right away.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'As a Herald, you can be the initiate. You can send a scroll to all of Aabahran.'

Mathicus holds up his hands again. 'No, not yet.'

Camuel frowns, 'It would be best to have artifacts being brought in as soon as possible.'

Mathicus rasps, 'No, I can't allow that. I am still a Herald. Fear is an emotion that I cannot let drive me.'

Camuel shakes his head.

Camuel shakes his head. 'This is not fear we discuss. This is the safety of Aabahran.'

'If Aabahran is to die, then it may', Mathicus sighs.

Camuel frowns, 'What you don't understand is this... some artifacts, like your own, may radiate their own power.'

Camuel shudders slightly. 'However, some artifacts, like mine, bestow their power on their host. We do not want such a thing to fall into the wrong hands.'

Mathicus's brow furrows. 'Wait, no... see, the Emlentum did the same.'

Mathicus rasps, 'It was most powerful when attached to the persistent.'

Mathicus taps his chest with his index finger. 'I... I gave it up before it was too late.'

Camuel nods slightly, 'An artifact such as these... could fall into the hands of an embodiment of Chaos. Such as, shall we say... Malchaeius?'

Shivering, Camuel finishes... 'And this could allow him to shift the Balance.'

Mathicus's glasses fail to hide a flicker of dishonesty in Mathicus's eyes. 'The Emlentum is... gone.'

Mathicus sighs a weighty sigh. 'I know. I am worried mostly about that shard.'

Camuel frowns, 'Master Herald... you must be completely honest.'

Mathicus shakes his head jerkingly, changing the subject. 'We cannot bring this to the public.'

Mathicus rasps, 'It will make it easier for the gods, as well as mortals, to take advantage.'

Camuel chuckles wryly, 'I thought I had already mentioned that.'

Mathicus points to some nothingness beyond Camuel. 'I thought you said we... had to?'

Mathicus shakes his head violently. 'Blrlblr, no no. Nevermind that.'

Mathicus rasps, 'We're at an understanding.'

Camuel nods.

Camuel waves his hand, 'If I may?'

Mathicus searches Camuel's face. 'Huh? Oh, yes.'

Camuel gestures in the air, as if writing the words he speaks, 'You must send a scroll to the populace. Not to inform them of what we have discussed. But rather, as a facade.'

Camuel nods slightly, 'You must not mention my name, either. That will make us suspicious. You must send out a call for artifacts, to be studied by the Library.'

Camuel shrugs softly, 'This is a material world. Offer a material reward.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I am going to contact closer friends first, Camuel.'

Mathicus holds up a pair of fingers. 'The KBS, and the Savant, first.'

Camuel nods his head, 'Of course. But we cannot delay too long.'

Camuel nods.

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'Find out what you can, but do it discreetly.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'I am sure one so skilled as yourself is well versed in the arts of discretion.'

'My profession is information', Mathicus replies with another smile.

Camuel smiles slightly, the first time he has seemed genuinely amused since the beginning of the discussion.

Camuel nods.

Mathicus rasps, 'I am going to work.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'I will speak with some others as well.'

Camuel nods.

Mathicus unbuttons his overcoat. 'Very well.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I'll send notes to you frequently.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'We will speak again soon, I hope?'

Mathicus asks, 'What was you name again? Camuel... and?'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'Camuel Arnauld.'

Mathicus rasps, 'Arnauld, Arnauld...'

Camuel nods.

Mathicus repeats himself again, 'Arnauld. Right.'

Camuel bows, 'Master Herald.'

Mathicus rasps, 'And yes, we will speak soon.'

Mathicus takes a rather quick, yet polite bow.

Camuel disappears in a mushroom cloud.

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

Camuel meets with Belegriel.

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

You tell Belegriel 'Greetings, master... You'll have to pardon me, I have trouble with names. It was Belegriel, was it not?'

Belegriel tells you 'It is.'

You tell Belegriel 'Ah, yes. You will recall that, some time ago, we spoke rather briefly over the concept of Order and Chaos, I hope?'

Belegriel tells you 'I do recall our conversation.'

You tell Belegriel 'Good, good. Well, there is something rather... ahem... dire, that you and I will need to discuss.'

You tell Belegriel 'Something that could greatly concern you, and your Knights.'

Belegriel tells you 'Dire you say? Well speak.'

You tell Belegriel 'Mmm. Well, you are well aware of the being that calls itself Malchaeius, I would hope. The Demon Lord of the Nexus.'

Belegriel tells you 'Oh, I am very aware of it.'

You tell Belegriel 'If you will recall from our conversation, I mentioned in passing the notion of Order and Chaos focuses.'

Belegriel tells you 'I do.'

You tell Belegriel 'It is my theory, that the Demon Lord is, in fact, such a Chaos focus.'

Belegriel tells you 'That theory is sound enough.'

You tell Belegriel 'And while this, by itself, is not any more dangerous than a particularly concentrated Order focus... something has changed.'

You tell Belegriel 'Something that could tip the Balance.'

You tell Belegriel 'Might I speak with you in person? My explanation could be a tad lengthy.'

Belegriel has transferred you.

An Empty Hallway

You find yourself in a strange dusty hallway, its walls empty

and its floor dusty. A single torch provides just enough light

to bring out its depressing features.

[Exits: none]

A soothing aura of golden light pulsates here.

Belegriel crosses his arms.

Camuel inclines his head slightly. 'Sir.'

Belegriel says 'What has changed that would so tip the scales?'

Belegriel says 'In his favor I presume, or else you would not be telling me.'

Camuel nods, continuing, 'If I may... you see this shard?'

Belegriel looks at you.

Camuel gestures to the shard orbiting about his person.

Belegriel says 'I do.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'This is an Order focus.'

Belegriel nods.

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'It has become rather... attached to me, though that is a topic to be approached another time.'

Camuel frowns slightly, 'However, as I learned recently... this is not the only such... material focus.'

Belegriel says 'Hrm.'

Camuel sighs softly. 'After a lengthy discussion with Mathicus, the Herald, it has come to our attention that there may be more such artifacts, scattered about Aabahran.

Belegriel says 'Such a thing is possible.'

Camuel shudders, 'And not all of them are Order or Chaos bound. The more powerful ones, I suspect, may be... neutral.'

Camuel regains control of himself, and says mildly, 'To put it rather bluntly... if the Demon Lord were to stumble across one or two of these focuses... his power would be amplified, but not very dangerously. However...'

Belegriel says 'You have any proof of such?'

Camuel nods his head. 'Yes, I do.'

Camuel continues, 'Mathicus bears such a... neutral artifact. He has named it the Emlentum.'

You get The Inverted Circle by Academician Mathicus Flon from a sturdy backpack.

You give The Inverted Circle by Academician Mathicus Flon to Belegriel.

Camuel nods at the tome. 'Those are writings, pertaining to his study of the Emlentum.'

Belegriel gives you The Inverted Circle by Academician Mathicus Flon.

Belegriel taps his chin thoughtfully.

Camuel frowns once more. 'At any rate... there could be any number of these artifacts, scattered throughout this realm.'

Belegriel says 'Your logic is likely correct.'

Camuel sighs. 'And if Malchaeius comes into possession of too many of them... the Balance will tip very dangerously into the favor of Chaos. Enough so that, say...'

Camuel gestures in the air, 'Every, for lack of a better word, particle of Chaos in the realm, could be freed from its Order bonds, causing massive destruction, perhaps total annihilation.'

Belegriel says 'Hrm, that would be a terrible thing to visit on our realm.'

Camuel chuckles wryly, a nervous grin on his face. 'You can see why I have brought this to your attention.'

Belegriel says 'What perchance would happen if say....'

Belegriel says 'A being of Order collected these focal points? Would that possibility still be feasible?'

Belegriel says 'Total annihilation of the world....'

Belegriel sits down and thinks deeply.

Belegriel says 'Perhaps it would be best to keep them separate and hidden.'

You say 'Not in the same capacity, but the world would still fail.'

You say 'Perhaps capacity is not the right word. I can explain it like this.'

You say 'Imagine a plant. It is kept healthy and strong, by Order. But the only way it can grow, is through Chaos.'

Belegriel blinks innocently.

You say 'The division of cells, scientifically speaking, is a matter of Chaos. The breaking of Order bonds, in a controlled way.'

Belegriel says 'I am not a gardener Camuel.'

You say 'Nor am I, but my example will prove a point.'

You say 'If Chaos is allowed to run rampant, the plant will rend itself apart.'

Belegriel nods.

You say 'However, if only Order is present, the plant will shrivel and die, without new cells to replace those that fail.'

You say 'In short, the realm can sustain neither on Order nor Chaos solely. Both must be present, for life to occur.'

Belegriel says 'There must always be a balance between the two, this is a known fact.'

Belegriel says 'Few understand it, but it is a fact.'

You say 'Precisely. So if the Balance tips in either direction, the results would be, fundamentally, catastrophic.'

You say 'So, returning to your earlier point...'

Belegriel says 'Agreed.'

You say 'Yes, our solution can be to separate and hide the artifacts.'

You say 'However, temptation... is a great and powerful thing.'

Belegriel says 'Temptation...'

Camuel says softly, 'As is compulsion.' He gestures sadly at the shard floating about him.

Belegriel frowns.

Belegriel says 'So what do you propose?'

Belegriel says 'Leave them undiscovered?'

Camuel says firmly, 'No. That too, would be dangerous, for then the wrong hands could discover them, in time.'

Camuel hesitates slightly, then says, 'The only solution, is to destroy them.' He watches the shard for a moment, then whispers, 'All of them.'

Belegriel says 'Oh...'

Belegriel says 'So then nothing to focus the energies of Order, Chaos, and Balance in our world.'

Camuel shrugs his shoulders gently, 'Not entirely correct or incorrect.'

You say 'Order and Chaos have been swelling. They remain in Balance, but they grow... larger, if that makes sense.'

You say 'Focuses will always be present, to maintain the Balance.'

Belegriel crosses his arms.

Belegriel says 'So in essence nothing changes then.'

You say 'But material focuses, are particularly dangerous. Namely because, as I said, they can all be taken by one focus.'

You say 'Such as Malchaeius.'

Belegriel says 'Ahhh, I begin to understand a little better.'

You say 'No. If my plan succeeds, Order and Chaos will remain in the realm.'

You say 'But we will, for lack of a better word, destroy a large, equal chunk of each.'

Belegriel says 'And if it fails, everything could be destroyed.'

You say 'Shrinking the Balance back to a managable size.'

Camuel shrugs, 'If it fails, we are all doomed anyway.'

Belegriel says 'You tred a thin line between saving the world and destroying it.'

Camuel says with a wry grin, 'We have nothing to lose.'

Belegriel says 'But I get a sense you may be onto something.'

Belegriel says 'You and the Historian will seek out these focuses?'

You nod.

You say 'We will begin a public search for them, on the pretense that the Herald Library seeks artifacts.'

Belegriel says 'We wish the two of you luck then.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'When the focuses are found...'

Camuel continues, 'That is when I will need your aid.'

Belegriel nods.

You say 'We will need to devise a way to destroy them.'

You say 'I already have one... theory.'

You say 'In the meantime... I need to know which of your Knights can be trusted. Hopefully, all of them.'

Camuel frowns slightly, 'We must keep this knowledge from Malchaeius.'

Camuel grins widely, 'And we will need a distraction.'

Belegriel says 'All of my Knights can be trusted, though I can't say they will trust you.'

Camuel shrugs his shoulders. 'As far as the populace will know, I am a nobody, and have no involvement with any of this.'

Belegriel says 'And we believe we can provide a suitable distraction when the time comes.'

Camuel chuckles softly, 'And who wouldn't trust a Herald? Lovable buggers, they are.'

Belegriel says 'Perhaps...'

Belegriel says 'Keep me appraised of the results of your search.'

Camuel inclines his head, 'I shall.'

Belegriel says 'I will seek out the mystic forces and perhaps be able to send help in the form of Crusaders and such.'

You nod.

You say 'Any aid will be gladly accepted.'

Belegriel says 'And I will prepare a suitable distraction, one that will keep him firmly focused on it and nothing else.'

Belegriel nods at you in agreement.

Camuel grins slightly. 'We met as different people, but this shall bring us together.'

You say 'If only for a time.'

You bow before him.

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

Another meeting with Mathicus.

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

You tell Mathicus 'Greetings, Master Herald.'

Mathicus tells you 'Camuel. Greetings.'

You tell Mathicus 'Could I, perhaps, meet with you somewhere, Master Herald?'

Mathicus tells you 'I am sitting in the Music Box.'

*Finally, I get to leave this damnable clan hall*

You bow deeply.

Mathicus just nods.

You smile happily.

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'Peaceful.'

Mathicus leans against the wall, arms crossed. 'It balances what is in my mind.'

Camuel smiles slightly, inclining his head.

Mathicus rasps, 'My thoughts have never been so chaotic.'

Camuel chuckles softly, 'I'm sure irony is turning in its grave, master Herald.'

Mathicus sighs, his face drab. '...Right.'

Mathicus rasps, 'There was a time when I would have -gladly- given the Emlentum away.'

'That was before I knew how deadly it was', Mathicus adds.

Camuel echoes Mathicus' sigh, rubbing his temples vigorously.

Mathicus lowers his pitch. 'Ironic? Ironic.'

Mathicus sits down, rolling up his sleeves.

Mathicus asks, 'Camuel... What are your ambitions?'

Camuel shrugs his shoulders, trying to relieve a non-existent ache. 'It is a... a true pity that the two of us are involved in a matter so dangerous, that we can speak of it and nothing else.'

Camuel frowns slightly, 'Ambitions... ambition requires that I actively seek something.'

You say 'Instead, I sit in the Militia hall all day, waiting for something to happen."'

The shard catches Mathicus's eye. He follows it while keeping his head still.

'The Empire again', Mathicus mumbles.

Camuel coughs slightly, 'However... certain implications cause me a rather provocative pain. I have a rather hard time being dishonest.'

Camuel shrugs, 'And after evading your question... if you wish to know, I seek the powers of Death.'

Mathicus sighs. 'Death? My 'grand children' joined the Militia, and died before their mother did.'

Mathicus rasps, 'The Empire will give 'death' at any possible outlet.'

Camuel waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. 'I do not seek the Dark Lord's blessings to cause Death unto others. I seek it to bring Death unto myself.'

Camuel winces slightly at his own evasion. 'But even that no longer holds true.'

Mathicus rasps, 'Both Chayesh and Prax can give you what you want.'

'To me, 'Chayesh' isn't even a curse', Mathicus amends.

Mathicus rasps, 'Even the last King hated him.'

Camuel hesitates before saying, 'I do not hate Chayesh. I do not hate anyone.'

Camuel shrugs his shoulders. 'I once thought that I would say anything, do anything, even become anything, to destroy this... this curse.'

Camuel gestures to the shard, in its eternal orbit about him.

Mathicus folds his hands over his lap. 'You don't love it, though.'

Camuel licks his lips, again hesitating. 'I once hated my existence. I hated the fact that I was being to compelled to do something that I didn't feel in my heart.'

Camuel sighs softly, rolling up his sleeves. Underneath, are various assorted scars. 'I used to take any action I could that was even slightly Chaotic, merely to spite what I had become.'

Camuel shrugs uncomfortably, 'Until the ties of Order grew so powerful, that my body would not submit to my minds will, for fear of the pain it had come to know.'

Mathicus looks to the ceiling. 'What you feel then isn't exactly love.'

*I encounter some random disconnects here – rather annoying*

You frown disapprovingly.

Mathicus carefully pushes himself to his feet.

'It's nap time for me', Mathicus remarks.

Camuel nods slightly. 'It has been good to discuss something other than doom and destruction, even if it was only a little less morbid.'

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'A gift, for you Master Herald.'

You give a bottle of D'Renault Reserve Champagne to Mathicus.

Mathicus takes a short, meek bow and smiles. 'Thank you.'

Camuel inclines his head. 'By the by... I have some meager writings that you might like to look over.'

Mathicus puts a bottle of D'Renault Reserve Champagne in an embossed leather sack.

Camuel says in a soft, well-mannered tone, 'I shall send them to you.'

'Please do', Mathicus replies.

Mathicus walks north.

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

Thesis on the Order-Chaos Balance

By: Camuel Arnauld

Throughout the ages, philosophers, theologists, and

historians alike have studied the composition of the

Order-Chaos Balance. As timeless constants, Order and

Chaos are represented symbolically in an astounding

variety. While scarcely accurate, in the vast majority,

some such representations touch quite closely on the

basis of these two powers, and their eternal equilibrium.

Primarily, the simple colors black and white do the most

justice. Inherently, black is used to represent Order –

the reason being, that black is not a color, but rather the

absence of color. Conversely, white represents Chaos,

in that it is composed of all colors. In other such

explanations, Order can be defined as preciseness, or

perfection. And thus can Chaos be described as random

and imperfect.

These two forces, separate, are equally destructive.

Perfect Order inhibits growth, a mechanism of life that

is naturally Chaotic. Growth, scientifically speaking, is

the reproduction of cellular structures, by the division of

existing cellular structures. Such a division is a form of

Chaos. However, neither is perfect chaos a tractable

notion. Again, scientifically speaking, Chaos

encourages growth – however, without Order to

organize and restrict this growth, life would not be

possible.

With the fundamental basis of Order and Chaos defined,

and the necessity of both Order and Chaos shown, it is

possible to delve further into the Balance. To form life,

the random destruction of Chaos must remain carefully

locked within the organized precision of Order. The

bank contains the river, raging in its strength. However,

naturally these forces will sometimes expand or

contract. Metaphorically, a river is capable of flooding.

If the chaotic flow of water exceeds the ordered stability

of the bank, Chaos will flow into the soil beyond.

Equally, if the bank of the river expands inward, the

flow of Chaos will be reduced.

As a result of such fluctuations in the Balance, the

Balance corrects itself. This is done by siphoning

excess Order or Chaos into a focus, manifesting itself in

a physical form. Whether the form is living or material

is indeterminate. However, it is important to note that a

physical being, with or without an inherent Order or

Chaos focus, can utilize the Order or Chaos within a

material focus. Examples of such phenomena have been

alleged over time, though no such forces are known of,

to date. Most commonly, these corrections are apparent

in smaller ways, existing for minute bulges in the

Balance – however, as stated, larger focuses are

possible.

Returning to the symbolism of Order and Chaos, it is

distinctly possible that all heights of belief reference the

Balance. “God,” and his evil antithesis are unique

examples. While semantics are introduced in the form

of “good” and “evil”, it is entirely possible to denote

God as creation, or Order – and thus it is equally

possible to mark his opposition as destruction, or Chaos.

However, good and evil have successfully perverted the

notion of Balance, and it cannot be so easily uncluttered.

Good is automatically associated with peace, love,

happiness. Evil is equally associated with violence,

hatred, anger. However, it is a fundamentally flawed

idea to tie emotions and beliefs together. Conceptually,

good may have once represented Order, and Evil,

Chaos. This also accounts for the Balance, in that good

never triumphs permanently over evil, and vice versa.

As power grows in one faction, so does the tide shift in

favor of the other. However, no feelings can ultimately

embody Order or Chaos. It is possible for a Chaotic

person to love, and equally possible for an Orderly

person to hate. Thus, in truth, the ideas of good and evil

must be sacrificed, to truly understand the Balance.

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

Camuel's Transformation

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

A young man is here, shrouded in an aura of black. However corporeal the

darkness around him is, however, he is not surrounded by the chill of evil.

Rather, he seems to radiate warmth, and a feeling of peace. High

cheek-bones mark him nobly born, but his pleasant, if worn, demeanor define

him more accurately as someone raised in a happy life. Sparkling green eyes

simultaneously exude a curiosity and a welcome embrace for the unknown.

Jet-black locks of hair, streaked with silver intermittently, are carefully

combed to the side of his head.

Dressed in casual, though well-made attire, this man does not appear to

express the grander side of life he may have experienced. Judging by the

dark brown leather vest, covering a spotless cream-colored tunic, he appears

content to be who he is, not who he was born. Rolled to his sleeves, the

tunic reveals bare, muscular forearms, and large strong hands. Oddly, his

veins appear to run black, rather than blue or red, but initial analysis can

tell no more.

His lower body, similarly clothed in elegantly made attire that was

seemingly tailored to blend in with peasantry, is not marked by the dust of

constant travel. Midnight black boots, polished to shine brightly, are

tucked into his pants leg, and they bear almost no sign of use. The most

distinguishing feature of the man, however, is a black crystalline shard,

that seems to revolve around him. Dark and ephemeral, it pulsates with an

inner light, flickering as it continues its eternal orbit.

Camuel sighs softly, and lays down, resting his head on his backpack.

Shivering, Camuel rolls up his sleeves, revealing a large variety of scars.

Camuel whispers soft words to himself, drawing a small dagger.

You pray 'Lord Chayesh, Father of Darkness, Overseer of Death. Whether you accept me or not, my soul is yours. I offer it to you willingly, for now and all eternity.'

Camuel shivers again, and continues whispering.

You pray 'Through this blade, I empty my body of life. Through these runes, I empty my body of soul. Through this darkness, I give myself to you.'

Camuel’s breathing quickens, coming in harsh, ragged gasps.

You pray 'For he shall come unto them bearing a burden of darkness. And in this darkness, shall he save them... or destroy them. These are the words of Lazarus.'

You pray 'And now, I shall become, as Lazarus did... the lazar. I shall suffer the Living Death for you, my Lord.'

Camuel sits up, his hands and arms ceasing their shaking, and his face regaining its color. His breathing eases, and he lifts the knife, idly twirling it in his fingers while he mutters something softly.

Finally, Camuel rips off his shirt, carelessly discarding it. He raggedly cuts away at his breeches, leaving him nearly naked.

Lifting the dagger, Camuel holds it against his wrist with steady hands. He touches the point to the most visible of his veins... and begins to carve.

Camuel shivers softly, but does not cry out in pain, as he continues his gruesome effort. Nearly invisible through a tide of blood, patterns appear in Camuel's flesh.

Camuel winces as he rips through his own flesh, though the hand wielding the incredibly sharp knife does not tremble.

Camuel continues drawing this morbid pattern on his own flesh. His face and extremities lose their vivid color, as the blood flow stems to a trickle.

Camuel continues his macabre work in an almost artistic fashion, as a painter would lovingly place strokes on a canvas. Complex, delicate rune patterns establish themselves, focusing on his chest.

Camuel begins to hum softly, laughing in an almost manic tone, as he progresses past his arms and torso, to his legs. Cutting through what's left of his tattered clothing, he leads a trail of blood down his left leg.

Camuel frowns slightly, pausing for the first time, then nods affirmatively and finishes the last bloody piece of work on his right leg. As he connects the last sigla on his right leg to those leading from his torso, he sighs softly.

Camuel suddenly gasps, his breath becoming quite ragged, as the runes on his skin begin to glow. The dark blood dries and flakes off of his skin, burnt away by the power of the rune magic.

Camuel shudders softly one final time, and lays down.

As his eyes close, Camuel drifts into a state of unconsciousness.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Unnh.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, 'Unnh.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'What... happened?'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, 'What... happened?'

Camuel looks down at himself, breathing out a short gasp.

Camuel rasps softly, 'I... I have become...'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, 'I... I have become...'

Camuel's phantasm wails, 'The Living Death.'

A creature stands here, but a pale image of what it used to be. Pallid

skin, clinging loosely to what remains of his bone structure, has replaced

healthy, living tissue. His flesh is ashen, lacking any color at all. Not

pale from having been out of the sun too long, but more like a corpse,

dragged out of the grave. Dim green eyes glance about sightlessly, and with

utter disinterest. Once-black hair has turned mostly to gray; a few last

strands the only sign that there was every anything but this dispirited

creature inhabiting the corpse of a man.

He wears no shirt, no garments of any kind above his waist. No musculature

remains to be spoken of - this being looks as if it has not eaten in weeks,

yet continues staggering on. Protruding ribs and loose skin speak of a man

once well fed, now consuming only air for sustenance. Tattered breeches,

cut several inches above the knee, are the only covering this thing wears.

Bloodstained and almost entirely worn through, they are not much covering at

all.

In stark contrast to the creature's death-like appearance, however, are a

large number of runes, carved into its skin. Joined together in a macabre

pattern, they were obviously artistically drawn with a knife - probably

painfully. Floating a pace from the walking corpse is a translucent

substance, wispy in nature. Emanating from this ephemeral phantasm, are

sorrowful whispers and pain-wracked sobs. Doomed to its existence following

its former host into the afterlife, it floats eternally by the wreckage of

this man.

Spurned by the powers of Death, I have transcended the mortal coil.

Eager to escape the binding of Order, I have done what I could not

before bear to do. I have followed in Lazarus' footsteps... and I

have become the lazar.

Many years ago, a priest by the name of Lazarus discovered a powerful

magic, that he thought would bestow upon him, immortality. What he

learned about this magical power, after painstaking research and study,

was that it would give him what he wanted, for a price. Willing to pay

any cost to live forever, Lazarus abandoned further study, to begin his

trials. Using himself as the subject, he carved the necessary runes into

his own body. The blood loss and shock of the effort caused him to lose

consciousness - just after his will power gave him the strength to finish

the rune construct. He awoke, not a human, but a lazar. All blood gone

from his body... all life gone from his body. He was caught somewhere

between the realms of Life and Death... and would never be free.

Lazarus was imprisoned by a powerful elf, who had been granted a

powerful blessing by his god. He was encased in a seal, a vortex

of magic, closed by the faith of the elf. However... Lazarus'

research was not lost. In my own studies, I stumbled across this

study of the ability to transcend life itself. And, as a last

resort to free myself of the constraints of Order... I have chosen

to suffer the Living Death. To become a lazar demon...

I will fulfill the prophecy. And when I do, the world will tremble.

"For he shall come unto you, bearing a burden of darkness. And in this

darkness, shall he become the savior of the world..." - Unknown, Pre-Cataclysm

"...or he shall destroy it." - Lazarus, Post-Cataclysm

Camuel Arnauld, the Living Death

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

Camuel and Mathicus - A meeting after Camuel becomes a lazar

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

You tell Mathicus 'Greetings, Mathicus.'

You tell Mathicus '... Mathicus.'

Mathicus tells you 'Camuel?'

You tell Mathicus 'Yes, my friend?'

You tell Mathicus '... friend.'

Mathicus tells you 'Ah-.. mmh. Nothing.'

Mathicus tells you 'I am going to publish your thesis.'

You tell Mathicus 'That is good to know. I look forward to seeing it added to the library.'

You tell Mathicus '... the library.'

You tell Mathicus 'You are well, I trust?'

You tell Mathicus '... trust.'

Mathicus tells you 'Yes, I am recovering.'

You tell Mathicus 'Perhaps I could buy you a drink?'

You tell Mathicus '... drink.'

Mathicus tells you 'Nothing with alcohol, I am afraid.'

You tell Mathicus 'Water is fine with me.'

You tell Mathicus 'If you wish to meet me, I will be in the Red Dragon Inn shortly.'

You tell Mathicus '... shortly.'

Mathicus walks in.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Greetings, my friend.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '… my friend.'

Mathicus drops into a stool and eyes you carefully.

'Hello', Mathicus replies, his voice cracking.

Camuel clumsily bangs his fist on the bar counter, gesturing the innkeeper with one pale hand.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Some water, for the Herald.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, 'Some water, for the Herald.'

Camuel dumps a few gold coins onto the counter, watching lazily as they roll about.

Mathicus strums his fingers against his table.

Camuel gestures to Mathicus, as the bartender brings over a tankard of water.

Camuel rasps softly, 'For you.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '… for you.'

Mathicus smiles at the bartender and takes a wooden mug.

Mathicus rasps, 'Why, thank you.'

Camuel says idly in a hoarse voice, 'The power of the Emlentum has not left you.' It is not a question.

Camuel's phantasm wails, 'Tainted by the curse of Balance.'

Mathicus leans as his image appears less transparent. 'Right...'

The phantasm takes on a semi-corporeal appearance, looking briefly like Camuel's former self.

<420hp 474m 360mv> <1000hours 12838exp> 'Not entirely. Not ever, maybe', Mathicus replies.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Good. It is good to know that it is safe... free from the clutches of the... wrong hands.'

<420hp 474m 360mv> <1100hours 12838exp> Camuel's phantasm echoes, '… wrong hands.'

'Right', Mathicus repeats, 'And there is no 'curse' with the Emlentum.'

Mathicus thumbs the rim of the wooden mug, staring at the water.

Camuel rasps softly, 'There is a curse, my friend. Some may consider it a blessing - some might not.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... might not.'

Mathicus shrugs as he takes a drink. 'Mmfg.'

''Curse' isn't strong enough a word', Mathicus jests.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Taint, perhaps. For the power of both Order and Chaos, shall bring quite a reckoning on these lands.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... these lands.'

Mathicus scoffs. 'It isn't an oppressive, really.'

Camuel releases a short breath, reminiscent of a sigh.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Things have changed, my friend.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... friend.'

Mathicus waves his mug, glancing often at you. '...Ah.'

'Has the Shard changed you again?' Mathicus asks.

Camuel rasps softly, 'I am caught between the land of the living, and the home of the dead. I do not regret my decision - I brought this upon myself. But nonetheless, things have changed.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... changed.'

Camuel chuckles harshly, a dry rattling in his throat.

Mathicus rasps, '...So you did it.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'I discovered the power. The power to smash the boundaries between Chaos and Order, Life and Death.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... Life and Death.'

Camuel waves a dismissive hand, 'But I could not have done it without the power of the Shard, no.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... no.'

Mathicus narrows his eyes as he takes another drink. He reacts otherwise with indifference. 'New.'

Mathicus rasps, 'But not... harmful.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Not harmful? Once I was considered pleasent to look upon. Now I am looked at with revulsion, the disgust of people who see a walking corpse.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... corpse.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'They do not see my undying devotion to the Lord of Undeath. They do not see that I made this transformation for him. To better serve him.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... serve him.'

Mathicus swallows. 'Sounds like Haroen.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'There is a certain... macabre beauty, in this. Ghastly though I may appear... I am not so ghastly as those bound to their lives. To their destinies.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... destinies.'

Camuel gestures to his body, pale and lifeless.

Camuel rasps softly, 'I have become the Living Death. The Lazar.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... lazar.'

Mathicus pivots in his seat to face away from his table. 'You know, Haroen never ceased to function until the end.'

'He ... eliminated himself crudely', Mathicus amends.

Mathicus rasps, 'All before his... 'outburst', he was a fine Herald.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Haroen... the name is unfamiliar. But you speak of an end... there will be no end. This is only the beginning - the beginning of eternity.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... eternity.'

Mathicus rasps, 'Eternity is without beginning.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'And yet here I am. Past life, unarrived at Death.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... Death.'

Camuel's phantasm wails, 'We are forever... bound.'

Mathicus leans again. 'How old were you?'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Age is a perception. Not a reality.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... reality.'

'In years', Mathicus further pries.

Camuel smirks slightly, his dried skin cracking as his mouth forms an agonized rictus only vaguely reminiscent of a smile.

Camuel rasps softly, 'So concerned with age. A mortal flaw. But I will humor you. My body was, chronologically speaking, approximately three hundred and fifty years old, by the time I met you.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... you.'

Mathicus finishes his mug of water. 'Don't get me wrong. I value my mortality.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Another failing of mortality. Value. Everything you value will eventually crumble to dust.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... to dust.'

Lysier steps out of the shadows.

Lysier says 'Hello mathicus'

Lysier bows deeply.

Lysier says 'Its been about a hundred years'

Camuel coughs, a dry wheezing noise coming from the back of his throat.

Mathicus' face breaks into a wide smile. 'That, Camuel, is far too negative.'

Mathicus turns briefly to Lysier. '...That's a long time.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Something we can do for you... avian?'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... avian.'

Lysier says 'I do not touch heralds'

Again, Mathicus smiles. 'Some people don't care what I am.'

Lysier says 'Well i know of heralds well'

Mathicus rolls up a sleeve. 'That's nice.'

Camuel coughs again. 'It is common courtesy, when someone acknowledges you, to acknowledge them in turn.' He glares coldly at nothing in particular.

Lysier completely ignores Camuel looking towards Mathicus

Camuel chuckles dryly, and says in a hoarse voice, 'People have been killed, for less, I'm sure.'

Lysier says 'People as old as myself care not for needless killing'

Lysier says 'Although people like that young one are always fun to show up.... when they reach their pinnacle of course'

Mathicus pivots in his chair back to Lysier. 'Who are you again?'

Camuel rasps softly, 'And people as disinterested as myself, care not for needless ninjas.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... ninjas.'

Lysier says 'Lysier.... a old assassin'

Lysier says 'I used to be a bounty hunter'

Lysier says 'Long ago'

Lysier phases back into existence.

Lysier says 'Of course I gave that life style up when i founded my first few million'

Lysier says 'To live without a cause is not to live at all'

Camuel rasps softly, 'You see, Mathicus? Case in point. Everything you value will lose its worth, in turn.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... in turn.'

Mathicus holds his hand up to you. 'Again, too negative for me.'

Camuel shrugs, a soft laugh emanating from his throat. 'The truth hurts.'

Lysier says 'Human..... a dieing race'

Lysier says 'When you’ve lived for a few hundred years speak to Mathicus about destruction and death.....'

Lysier snickers softly.

Mathicus looks to the ceiling in reaction to your words.

Lysier coughs loudly.

'You know what? I wish I were younger', Mathicus remarks.

Lysier says 'I know me too'

Lysier snickers softly.

Mathicus rasps, 'Then quit boasting about your age.'

Mathicus coughs mockingly.

Camuel grasps Lysier's shoulder, cold dead nails biting ruthlessly into living flesh. 'You have no idea how old I am, child. And you lack the experience to understand what I truly am. So silence yourself, or I will do it for you.'

Lysier falls down laughing.

Lysier says 'Child'

Lysier says 'That is something else, thank you for the complement'

Lysier winks suggestively at you.

Camuel glares coldly at Lysier, rasping softly, 'I would advise you to make yourself scarce in the coming weeks. You will not be pleased when the legions of undeath find you. And I will urge the Dark Lord to command them to look.'

Lysier yawns.

Lysier says 'Undead..... oh my ever heard of fenrir'

Lysier says 'Or hmm a undead theif what was her name let me think'

Lysier says 'Oh i cant remember my mind is going'

This time, it is Camuel's turn to yawn. 'You can boast of imagined exploits all you wish. It will not change the fact that you do not scare me. I have nothing to fear from the living.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... the living.'

Lysier says 'But you are living.....'

Lysier shakes his head.

Camuel rasps softly, 'I am neither living, nor dead. Further proof of the comprehension you lack.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... lack.'

Lysier says 'The proud do now get turned'

Lysier snickers softly.

Mathicus removes his cap and runs a hand through his hair.

Lysier says 'Its not talk that turns you.... its drive and blood if you wish to know the true secrets'

Lysier says 'If i were you id be slaughtering innocents particularly the good hearted'

You smirk.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Then I suppose it is well that you are not me. Not that you would wish to endure what I suffer, anyway.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... anyway.'

Lysier says 'I endure worse'

Lysier falls down laughing.

Camuel laughs coldly, echoed by his phantasm.

Lysier says 'Old age'

Lysier coughs loudly.

Mathicus watches quietly from his table, frisking a coat pocket idly.

Lysier says 'You are what in your twenties?'

Lysier nods.

Camuel laughs uproariously, though the sound is merely a somewhat louder rasp. 'Again, fascination with age. One of the many fallacies of mortals.'

Mathicus's mouth twists in a frown, his eyes gazing low.

Camuel shrugs his shoulders. 'Sometimes the flaws of the living cannot be overcome without the proper persuasion.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... persuasion.'

Mathicus again expresses irritation by a roll of the eyes.

Camuel yawns softly, breath rattling in his throat. 'Something wrong, Mathicus?'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... Mathicus.'

Mathicus's shoulders tense. 'No, nothing.'

Camuel peers into Mathicus' eyes, looking past his face. 'You are not being honest with me, my friend.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... my friend.'

Mathicus clears his throat, turning his straight gaze to you. 'You are very right.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I'm not being honest, but only in an attempt to not say what is not nice.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Say what you will. You cannot possibly offend me.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... me.'

Lysier steps out of the shadows.

Lysier says 'Please do'

Lysier says 'Tell him the truth'

Mathicus replaces his cap on his head of somewhat mussed up hair.

'Fine', Mathicus finally says.

Lysier says 'Tell him that hes not going to make it when he reach's his pinacle, because he talks to much..... heh thats what he wants to hear'

Mathicus holds a hand toward Lysier. 'Are you going to let me say what I was going to say, or no?'

Camuel smirks slightly, ignoring Lysier, and settles himself on a stool, hands folded in his lap and a mocking smirk on his face.

Mathicus lowers his arm and looks again to you. 'As I was going to say...'

Mathicus rasps, 'To Camuel, is that he reminds me highly of an old colleague of mine named Merdien.'

Lysier says 'The elf oh he was a good elf'

'On the contrary', Mathicus retorts.

Mathicus rasps, 'He loved himself a little too much, and loved everything around him a little too little.'

Mathicus turns back to his table, ignoring both of you. 'Now, I don't know if age eventually leads everyone to believe that life eventually looses everything worth valuing...'

'If maturity and reason are worth valuing, I want nothing to do with what immortality does to the mind', Mathicus further states.

Mathicus rasps, 'Therefore, I would appreciate it if you would stop insulting my mortality.'

Mathicus continues, 'For I value it, and everything it contains.'

Camuel chuckles coldly, 'I do not mock your mortality old friend. I merely state that it has its failings. If you are content with them, then I am... happy for you.

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... for you.'

Mathicus casts an even more repulsed look at you. 'Oh! Really!'

You frown disapprovingly.

Mathicus shakes his head, mostly to himself. 'Since you are no longer mortal, why focus on the flaws of the mortal?'

'They are of no concern to you!' Mathicus exclaims.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Calm yourself, old friend.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... friend.'

Mathicus shifts his weight in his seat and smiles dishonestly. 'Right', he murmurs.

Camuel raises a hand in a placating gesture. 'I presumed you would permit me a bit of cynicism, under my circumstances.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... circumstances.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'I was wrong. If I have offended you... it was unintentional. I trust, as an old friend, you can forgive me.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... forgive me.'

Mathicus's smile wanes. 'There are very few people who can conjure my cynicism. You should be honored.'

Mathicus exhales, and his shoulders relax. 'I forgive you.'

Camuel inclines his head, this time revealing a more... genuine smile.

Mathicus stands from his table casually. 'I am going to do some paperwork.'

'To the Cycle with meditation. It doesn't work for me either', Mathicus mentions.

Mathicus buttons his overcoat, nodding at you. 'Good morning.'

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

Mathicus and Camuel meet one last time, before the end.

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

Camuel inclines his head. 'Greetings.'

Mathicus leans against a familiar slab of shale. 'Well, here I am.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '...greetings.'

'What is it?' Mathicus asks politely.

Camuel frowns slightly, looking over the library without seeming to take his attention away from Mathicus.

Mathicus glances over his shoulder at the hall. 'Hm?'

Glaring at his own body, Camuel rasps, 'The winds of change are blowing, Mathicus.' He glances again at the library, studying something unseen.

Camuel shrugs gently, turning his head to glance into the distance. 'There is no time...'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... time.'

Mathicus folds his arms. 'Time.'

Mathicus repeats himself. 'Time, time time.'

Camuel chuckles softly, 'How... ironically mortal of me, no? Worried about time?'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... time.'

Mathicus points you his stern gaze. 'What are your plans?'

Camuel's laughter abruptly ceases, and his focus shifts to Mathicus, 'Plans? My plans are non-existent. My plans are of no consequence any longer.'

Camuel shrugs, grinning wryly, 'It is the Demon Lord's plans, that matter now. He knows of the Emlentum. He has the shard.'

Mathicus slides his hands into his pockets and drops his chin. 'Wonderful.'

Camuel sighs softly, a hoarse rasping of air in his throat. A dry laugh, more like a wheezing cough, leaps from his mouth.

Extending his arms for balance, Mathicus slides down into a sitting possition, his back propped against the shale.

Camuel says quietly, 'It is of little consequence. I sicken of this walking death. This shell that is not mine, for my own self was cast into oblivion when I became this... lazar.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... lazar.'

'You make it sound like you're a victim', Mathicus replies.

Mathicus rasps, 'The Shard was never your fault. The Lazar was, though.'

Mathicus taps his chest. 'I endured the Emlentum. It never changed me.'

Mathicus rasps, 'I would die before I lose my emotions.'

Camuel chortles, a sickening crunch emanating from his fist as he slammes it against the Library wall. 'And I would lose my emotions, before I die.'

Camuel raises his hand, now twisted in ways no human body should contort. 'Pain... a forgotten emotion, lost long ago.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... long ago.'

Mathicus doesn't even bother to look at the twist.

Mathicus stands, grunting. 'We're all running out of time.'

Mathicus rasps, 'But I don't believe in death. I believe in abnormally long naps.'

Camuel waves a hand dismissively, 'Time is of little consequence. Go take a nap, then - I will be here when you return.'

Mathicus clears his throat and peers at the Herald gate. 'To the Rift with eternity', he whispers.

Designated_Driver · September 9, 2006

The End -

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

Mathicus tells you 'I'm ready to meet you. Where?'

You tell Mathicus 'Rheydin will do.'

Etheas raises an eyebrow.

Camuel inclines his head, a wry grin crossing his face.

Etheas says 'And how might I be of service to you?'

A large spotted leopard walks in.

A large wyvern flies in.

Rafzen says 'Yes?'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Greetings, master... Etheas, I believe the roster says?'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... says.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Ah, good. The Historian.'

Mathicus walks in.

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... historian.'

Mathicus notices you first. 'Yes.'

You tell Ghadryn 'If you wish to join us, now is the time.'

Ghadryn tells you 'Where are you?'

Etheas says 'So why are we here?'

You tell Ghadryn 'Newander Park, in Rheydin.'

Ghadryn tells you 'I shall be there soon as I am able.'

Camuel chortles softly, 'To bear witness.'

Etheas raises an eyebrow.

Rafzen raises an eyebrow.

Mathicus narrows his eyes at you. 'Witness to what?'

Etheas says 'You have my interest. Continue.'

Camuel grins, laughing dryly, 'Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that.'

Rafzen leans on his cane.

Etheas attempts to make himself comfortable.

Camuel shrugs his shoulders gently. 'All will be revealed, in due time.'

Mathicus also leans, except against a tree instead of a cane.

Rafzen says 'So this all you wish to speak of?'

Rafzen says 'Something in "good time"'

Mathicus holds a hand toward Rafzen. 'I'm... sure there's more.'

Camuel smiles, a twinkling gleam almost appearing in his dead eyes, 'You will see.'

Mathicus clears his throat and shoots you a stern gaze.

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... see.'

Etheas says 'Seems quite a lot of drama for a simple declaration of timing.'

Rafzen nods at Etheas.

Camuel shrugs his shoulders, 'Give it time, however. We await the arrival of a few other... spectators.'

Etheas says 'Hmm'

Etheas says 'Very well.'

Mathicus begins to look a tad uncomfortable. 'Camuel, what are you talking about'

Rafzen patiently twiddles his thumbs.

Camuel chortles softly, a maddening grin interrupting his otherwise calm demeanor.

Camuel shrugs his shoulders. 'Tell me something, friend Mathicus.'

Mathicus sighs. 'Yes?'

Camuel idly drums his fingers on his hip, gazing off into space. 'How much do you... trust... me?'

Etheas chuckles politely.

*A thief attacks me. I run him off, and continue*

You grumble distractedly to yourself.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Fool.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'I apologize for the... interruption.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... interruption.'

Mathicus asks, 'It wasn't your fault. Now, what was it you wanted from me again?'

Etheas nods.

Etheas says 'And what was interrupted, exactly?'

*Attacked again, this time I kill the thief and we move on*

Ghadryn says 'Ah,'

Mathicus chuckles. 'Oh boy...'

You nod at Ghadryn.

Ghadryn bows slightly, 'Greetings.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'Some herbs, master druid?'

Etheas bows deeply.

Ghadryn searches the area for some herbs.

You feel much better.

Camuel inclines his head.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Now then...'

Etheas says 'Ah yes! I thought I recognized you! A moment...'

Ghadryn smiles pleasantly, eyes dancing with amusement.

Camuel rasps softly, 'I was asking, Mathicus, how much you trust me?'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... me.'

Mathicus folds his arms again and presses his back to the tree. 'I don't trust you as much as I did, I'm afraid.'

Ghadryn glances around the entrance to the park.

Camuel attempts to suppress a grin, covering it with a cough behind his hand.

Ghadryn points at the ground and roots sprout to form a well enough seat.

Ghadryn says 'Now then, why was I summoned?'

Ghadryn smiles wolfishly.

Camuel smiles sweetly, almost like an overripe, rotting fruit, and says, 'To witness an end. Or a beginning, as you may wish to see it.'

Mathicus doesn't look very impressed. 'Right...'

Ghadryn seems to think on this a moment. 'I see, and this end would be?'

Ghadryn nods at Mathicus.

Camuel rasps softly, 'Mathicus. I require the use of the Emlentum. My research has conclusively pointed to the fact that it will heal this... this.'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... this.'

Mathicus' jaw shifts. A hint of fear crosses his face. 'Really now.'

Ghadryn glances from Mathicus to Camuel.

You tell Gouvernail 'Feel free to join us.'

Camuel inclines his head. 'Yes, I believe it will. As my... friend... will you allow me its use?'

Camuel's phantasm echoes, '... use.'

Etheas says 'SsiinCeh WEh're hEhreh...'

Gouvernail tells you 'whHeRe?'

You tell Gouvernail 'Newander Park.'

Mathicus holds his hand toward Etheas. 'Stop.'

Etheas gasps in astonishment.

Ghadryn mutters something quietly to himself.

Gouvernail raises an eyebrow.

Camuel inclines his head, nodding at Gouvernail.

Mathicus steps toward you. 'Why have you summoned these people here to see this?' he whispers.

Ghadryn frowns.

Mathicus continues, 'They have no idea what you're talking about.'

Ghadryn says quietly. 'We are here, no whispering.'

Camuel chuckles softly, ignoring the question, but not its disposition. 'Will you allow me its use,' he presses.

Ghadryn glances from the present company back to the arguing pair.

Mathicus turns to the others briefly, glancing at Ghadryn. 'Its 'use'.'

Etheas raises an eyebrow.

Mathicus returns to his tree and leans. 'I am afraid not, Camuel.'

Mathicus rasps, '...You convinced me earlier that even the Shard already belonged to Malchaeius.'

Ghadryn stands from his seat, the roots immediately melding back into the ground.

Ghadryn says sternly, 'Come now, tell me what this is about. I have tasks to complete.'

Camuel rasps softly, 'It will be made clear, soon.'

Gouvernail sighs.

'Very soon', Mathicus corrects.

Gouvernail says slowly, ' Make...it quick…

Camuel turns to Mathicus once more. 'You are... quite certain you will not loan me the Emlentum?'

Etheas nods his head repeatedly.

Mathicus rasps, 'You have my answer, Camuel. The Emlentum will stay behind the Seal.'

Camuel grins slightly, and utters an unintelligible word. 'I thought not.' Accompanying his arcane utterance, he draws a sigil in the air with his finger - a line of fire follows the path his finger takes, hanging in the air.

Etheas raises an eyebrow.

Ghadryn frowns.

Mathicus' eyes follow the red glow - it reflects off of his many belts and buttons.

Camuel smiles, his visage twisting with a cruel smirk. At a wave of his hand, the sigil flies through the air, slamming into Mathicus and knocking him to the ground with a fiery explosion.

Gouvernail peers at you intently.

Ghadryn hisses, 'What devilry is this?'

Mathicus hisses in pain and falls to his hands and knees, smoke rising all about him.

The smell of ash fills the air around you.

Ghadryn moves to Mathicus' side.

Camuel rasps softly as he continues his work, drawing sigil after sigil. 'Not devilry. Magic.'

Ghadryn winces at the smell.

Ghadryn says 'Let him be.'

Ghadryn moves to help Mathicus to his feet.

Mathicus wobbles, coughing due to the pain in both his chest and his eyes.

Etheas’s eyes grow huge, as he looks about at what is happening, not comprehending.

Gouvernail says slowly, ' Not...have idea...why Camuel…do..

' Camuel, you won't have it', Mathicus gags.

Camuel grins, a dark shadow falling over his countenance as he directs one rune into Mathicus' leg, leaving a burnt patch of flesh in its wake.

Mathicus' cry echoes through the entire park as he falls yet again to his face.

Ghadryn looks into the eyes of Mathicus, not knowing what to do, but seeming to be unwilling to touch the old Librarian.

Ghadryn decides better of it and moves to support Mathicus.

Ghadryn kneels down and attempts to lift him to his feet.

Ghadryn says 'Leave him.'

Ghadryn says 'Leave him now, Camuel.'

Mathicus' fancy robes and spare parchments singe at their hems as he again wobbles to a standing position.

Ghadryn supports Mathicus, trying to keep him upright.

Camuel laughs, a dark, evil wheeze. 'I will have it. You cannot keep it from me.' He directs another rune to explode into Mathicus' other leg, the smell of charred flesh filling the air, a greasy black smoke rising from the burns.

Mathicus hisses painfully as he collapses against Ghadryn. ' Camuel!'

Ghadryn stumbles against the weight.

'You will gain -nothing-!' Mathicus wails.

Gouvernail sees the commotion over whatever it is they want and readies himself to take it.

Ghadryn says 'Stop this!'

Etheas look back and forth between you and Mathicus in astonishment, but not sure what to do.

Ghadryn mutters softly, barely audible, 'We may need to make a dash for it..'

Camuel smirks, making throwing motions with one hand, as he draws sigla in the air with the other. Multiple sigla slam into Mathicus' body, knocking him northward into the water of the pond.

The whole park entrance reeks of burning skin.

Ghadryn groans as the smell enters his nostrils.

Water vapor fills the air around Mathicus as he lands in the pond.

Ghadryn says 'MATHICUS!'

Ghadryn rushes to keep his head above the water.

Ghadryn splashing and slopping through the water he reaches the old Librarian.

Mathicus sits up, his entire body covered in black soot and scarred flesh.

Camuel smirks, 'You might think so, now.' He tosses one last rune at Mathicus, which explodes in a wall of fire that surrounds Mathicus' entire body.

Ghadryn whispers desperately, 'Move into the water, Mathicus! Further north!

Ghadryn says 'Tis your only hope.'

Mathicus's robes all alight and burn for several seconds as he falls into a small heap near the shore of the pond.

There is smoke all around you now. Breathing is a chore at best.

Camuel rasps, wheezing slightly, 'Will you give me the Emlentum willingly, Mathicus? Or shall I destroy you and take it from the Seal?'

Ghadryn stands between Camuel and Mathicus.

Ghadryn says 'You shall have to deal with me first.'

Mathicus sits up on his knees, looking beyond Ghadryn to you. His body is black cracked.

'Destroy me, destroy the Emlentum', Mathicus issues in a vague little choke.

Camuel draws a rune in the air, enveloping Mathicus in its reddish-blue glow. Lifting him above Ghadryn's head, he floats higher, and higher.

Ghadryn snarls, 'And then I shall destroy you.'

Ghadryn watches as Mathicus spins higher and higher.

Camuel waves his hand in a slamming gesture, pounding it against his fist for emphasis. Bones audibly crack and shatter, as Mathicus slams forcefully into the ground.

Grass and dirt cling to Mathicus' shape as he is tossed like a rag doll.

Ghadryn rushes to his side, stopping before the near corpse.

Ghadryn turns to Camuel, 'Stop this. Damn you, stop this!'

Etheas winces.

Chuckling softly to himself, Camuel says in a firm tone, 'Open the Seal. Give me the Emlentum, and I shall set you free.'

Mathicus just seems to flop, making little more than a grunt upon each impact.

Ghadryn grimaces, unsure of what to do, knowing he cannot stop Camuel.

Ghadryn moves to Mathicus and gently rolls him onto his back.

Camuel walks over to Mathicus, making a slicing gesture with his hand - the rune fades, leaving Mathicus on the ground. Brushing his face tenderly with one cold, dead hand, Camuel tilts a bottle of milk towards Mathicus' mouth.

Mathicus smolders from all points on his body, and he barely moves at all.

Ghadryn snarls from his kneeling position next to the Librarian.

An eerie, horrible silence falls over the entire park entrance.

Camuel wipes Mathicus' lips with a small piece of cloth, tenderly brushing a stray, unburnt hair from Mathicus' face. 'Come, my friend. Open the Seal, and be at peace.'

Mathicus' entire right eye is swollen closed by the burns, while the other stares blindly up at you.

Ghadryn mutters something quietly to himself.

Mathicus bares his teeth; the first bit of his own movement in a long while. 'Camuel... I... am... the Seal.'

The smell of smoke amplifies in the room as Mathicus' charred body continues to smolder.

Camuel smiles faintly, a bit of light creeping back into his face. 'Give me the Emlentum my friend. Let it go.'

Ghadryn backs away from the pair, deeper into the forest of the Park, now only a spectator.

Mathicus' remaining eye darts, the muscles in his neck convulsing. 'I...'

Gouvernail sighs.

Mathicus seems to relax a little. ' Camuel. It...'

Meekly, Mathicus rolls his head from left to right, water bubbling at the corners of his swollen eyes. 'It will not save you.'

Ghadryn has to look away, the view is too ghastly.

Camuel stares grimly to the North, for a moment, then looks back down at Mathicus. 'It shall. And when it does, I shall be free.'

Gouvernail says slowly, ' Free...from...what?

Mathicus continues to try to shake his head. 'Y-...You don't know what the Emlentum is!' he spits.

Gouvernail says slowly, ' Me… neither.

Gouvernail shrugs helplessly.

Camuel places his hand on Mathicus' shoulder, a futile effort at reassurance. Suddenly, he squeezes, his dead fingers biting deeply into living, albeit burnt flesh. 'I know more than you might think.'

Mathicus' shoulder and cheeks tense. 'I know more than -you- about it, nnh!'

Camuel sighs softly. He loosens his grip, letting his hand fall away. 'I give you one last chance, Mathicus. Give me the Emlentum, or be destroyed.'

Mathicus coughs again, ashes leaving his lips. He apparently can no longer see.

' Camuel...' Mathicus pleads again, his voice completely dry and burnt.

You tell Korthian 'Tell me, my friend. Have you ever witnessed the true end of a mortal life?'

Korthian tells you 'I'm afraid I have.'

Korthian tells you 'Rather sad.'

You tell Korthian 'If you would like to enjoy the experience again, feel free to join us in Rheydin.'

Korthian tells you 'You invite me to a death party?'

Ghadryn watches the scene, the quiet unsettling.

Camuel glares balefully at Mathicus' ruined body. 'I care not for your sniveling, Historian. I will have what I seek - with, or without your destruction.'

You tell Korthian 'I am inviting you to the end of an era. To witness an epic moment, in the history of this Age.'

Korthian tells you 'Is there not a more appropriate place, then, for such an event?'

Mathicus rolls his lips and finally nods. 'My ... chest.'

You tell Korthian 'Mathicus is in no state to be moved, at this point.'

Camuel nods his head, pressing gently, 'Yes? What about it?'

Mathicus's fingers twich and elevate, but accomplish nothing. 'An old, blue scar... Not Suunmar's mark...'

Korthian rides in.

Camuel nods at Mathicus, urging him silently to continue.

Mathicus lies here, face to face with you. His body is completely burnt, and his legs do not even seem to be there.

Korthian sighs.

Korthian says 'Now who am I going to chat with?'

You smell smoke all around you. Breathing is difficult.

Korthian frowns.

Korthian says 'Mathicus, what happened? Last time I saw you you were up and about!'

Camuel appears to ignore Korthian, placing himself between the two. 'Focus, Historian. Tell me how to open the Seal.'

'Sounds like.. Korthian', Mathicus hisses, obviously in pain. 'Ha-Anngh...'

Korthian shifts from one foot to the other, and then back.

Mathicus's body tightens all over, and the sound of crackling flesh fills the air. ' Camuel! The scar, I said...!'

Korthian says 'Camuel, what's going on?'

Mathicus rolls his head from side to side again. 'J-.. Just... touch it. If you did... didn't burn it off.'

Camuel grasps Mathicus' ruined shirt, tearing the fabric asunder. Beneath, two scars are revealed - one, white and puckered, the other, blue.

'The lower,' Mathicus hisses again.

Upon closer inspection, there are indeed two scars appearing through the crimson, burnt flesh.

Camuel places his hand gently, careful to avoid the obvious burns, over the blue scar on Mathicus' chest.

Korthian says 'I hope you know what you're doing.'

Mathicus rolls his left hand over. In it appears a velvet cape covering a spherical object.

His eyes alight with glee, Camuel snatches the velvet-wrapped orb. 'Finally.'

Mathicus's blind, swollen eyes continue watering. ' Camuel, it...'

'...It will destroy you', Mathicus continues after swallowing.

Gingerly unwrapping the seemingly fragile sphere, Camuel ignores Mathicus' muttering. Placing both hands over the smooth, unmarred surface of the orb, he closes his eyes.

The Emlentum appears, white and black at once, shimmering and chrome on every side.

Korthian says 'If y'all don't mind... I'm going to protect myself.'

'Nnnhh-no...', Mathicus whimpers, rolling his head away.

Camuel grins, cackling like a madman. 'I command the Emlentum's power, now. And my first command is thus - I will be healed, returned to my former self.'

The Emlentum does little more than... hum.

Mathicus's arms twich and writhe. ' Camuel, you... Can't command it!'

Etheas grimaces painfully at the thought.

Camuel closes his eyes, concentrating intently on the smooth, flawless orb. He blindly draws a single sigil, a rune of healing, on the back of one palm, then switches hands and repeats the process on the other.

Like quicksand, the sigla seep through Camuel's flesh, and into the Emlentum.

Mathicus groans in a hoarse voice. 'Camuel, stop.'

'You must stop', Mathicus continues, his breath gurgling.

Korthian says 'Better do as the Historian says, Camuel.'

Camuel grins, as the Emlentum begins to glow in his hands. A blinding wave of both light and darkness seeps forth, surrounding Camuel in a shroud of nothingness.

Korthian glares icily at you, you feel cold to your bones.

The Emlentum vibrates soothingly, weightless in Camuel's hands.

The smell of smoke and burnt flesh gradually vanishes from the park entrance.

Denik says 'Yars still live?'

With a loud CRACK, the 'Light' from the Emlentum dies away, leaving Camuel once again in plain view.

'Camuel', Mathicus creaks, reaching out a broken arm. 'You -must- stop.'

Korthian nudges you.

Denik boggles at the concept.

Standing and looking down upon himself, Camuel gasps as he realizes that his flesh pulses with blood once again. Blood rushes throughout his body, as dead flesh returns to life.

Mathicus's body trembles as he watches primarily the Emlentum in your grasp.

Camuel gasps softly, as the macabre rune patterns decorating his flesh disappear, fading away.

Mathicus urges, his voice faint. 'Drop the sphere... drop it, Camuel.'

Camuel says in a polite, well-mannered tone, 'The runes... are gone. I am healed. I am as I was, before the shard found me. I have a chance at life anew!'

Gouvernail says slowly, ' Don't..drop it...I waaaant..to see what happens..to yoouu..

Caught up in his genuine happiness, Camuel fails to notice the Emlentum begin to vibrate once again.

Denik boggles at the concept.

The chrome sphere begins to hum louder...

Camuel crows with glee, 'I can live! I can be free of this curse, with a chance to live!'

'Drop it!' Mathicus gags. 'Drop it!'

Etheas backs away from Camuel.

Korthian does the same.

Denik chortles mischieviously.

Denik says 'Hims go BOOM!'

Gouvernail steps forward, mouth open.

The Emlentum shaking violently in his hands, Camuel yells loudly, 'I AM FRE...' He cuts off abruptly, noticing for the first time that the Emlentum shakes once more.

Denik chortles mischieviously.

Korthian says 'People... I suggest duck...'

Korthian says 'And cover.'

Denik encompasses Korthian in an ENORMOUS bearhug!

Korthian ducks and covers his head with his hands.

Etheas nods at Korthian.

Denik says 'Protect Denik!'

Korthian says 'No no, you protect yourself.'

Denik frowns.

Korthian says 'Come on Mathicus, take a sip!'

Gouvernail steps behind Korthian..

Mathicus' balded, burnt scalp wrinkles as he squints tightly. He doesn't seem to hear Korthian at all.

Camuel gasps softly, as his hands seem to shrivel up. His arms grow pale white, then begin to wrinkle and crack, muscle leaping out from beneath rotted flesh.

Etheas steps behind a tree, completely hiding himself from sight. His curiosity proves too much, however, and he peeks around the tree to watch the Emlentum grow increasingly forceful.

The Emlentum fixes itself to Camuel's flesh, a loud, metallic *clank* filling the park.

'Nnnh!' Mathicus grunts, turning his head away.

Denik waits patiently.

Camuel shudders softly, as the life stealing ripple rushes over his body. He tries to throw the Emlentum to the ground, shaking his arms violently. One arm falls disconnects from his shoulder, hanging loosely from the Emlentum, held up by his other arm.

Etheas decides that one tree is not enough, and backs behind another, further away.

Korthian blinks.

Etheas gags.

The Emlentum squirms on an axis, whistling and crying - it will not leave the flesh.

Camuel screams in agony, unable to tear his eyes from his disintegrating flesh. 'Noooooooooo!'

Mathicus bares his teeth as a powerful wind tugs toward the chrome sphere.

The trees in the park tilt in the direction of the Emlentum as it howls.

Camuel wails, his voice rising to an inhuman pitch, stumbling to the ground from legs no longer able to support his weight.

Etheas clings to the branches to avoid being sucked toward Camuel and the Emlentum...

The howling grows in volume, and the wind becomes more ferocious.

Vars drives a thorn-covered staff into the ground to steady himself.

Camuel shudders softly, his flesh continuing to shrivel, his voice dying away as his jaw falls from his face - flesh, bone and all.

Etheas shudders at the horror and represses tears.

Korthian says 'Ew...'

Etheas stares blankly at the putrid muck pooling at the 'feet' of what was once Camuel...

Camuel convulses, twitching in agony. His eyes glaze over, and he exhales raggedly. The cause of his twitching changes from pain, to death spasms. 'G... good... bye. B... b... be... fr... free.'

Camuel convulses one final time, and then lays still - his body disintegrates into a pool of flesh, blood, bones and organs, and then even that begins to diminish, disappearing into the Emlentum.

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

Thanks so much, to everyone involved. I'll leave it to Mathicus, to pick up the log, from this point.

archgold · September 9, 2006

all i can say is that from those last two logs now I know a few more militia members and that means edit edit edit some of those clan chats?

Icor · September 9, 2006

I already submitted RP logs on the prayer forum, Balinor. Just be patient.

**Anume** · September 9, 2006

There's a reason only IMMs may post rp logs. You showed once more that we were right in letting the logs be posted for editing first.

Enjoy your vacation.

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Camuel Arnauld

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