The Master of the Shadow Tower, the Fallen, the Forsaken

[Invoker]

The Man That You Fear

The black robed figured glided through the forest like a rising mist, a ghostly shadow given substance by the occasional stomped leaf or snapped twig. He had no idea where he was exactly, but he did not need to. He was treading their hunting territory, and they would find him. A screeching sound from a large, pitch black bat circling overhead brought him to an unhurried halt. His emerald eyes pierced the darkness with ease, his gaze fixed on the muscular shape of the werewolf coming towards him right out of a thicket that easily concealed him until them. His heightened senses already allowed him to hear his companions circling him, thinking themselves hidden. He slowly and deliberately rubbed his gloved hands as the hulking beast rapidly closed the distance between them.

"Please, allow me to have a word with you.". The werewolf bared his fangs and increased his speed, his friends also silently closing in. The dark wanderer lifted his hand, and the monster stopped dead in his tracks, caught by a force weave of crushing power. That definitely accelerated the other werewolves' charge, just like the mage had anticipated. As soon as they were close to puncing distance, his lips curled into a wicked smile: "That word is: burn". The inferno raged all around him, turning night into day for a long, interminable instant.

"Thank you for your contribution. Every fire needs a spark..." he said, turning his back to the scene. As he began murmuring the Traveling formula to teleport back to his tower, part of his mind idly lingered on the fact that the whole fire that turned werewolves into charred husks had claimed not a single tree, bush or blade of grass. Speaking of true mastery...

The cowled wizard disappeared in a flash of brilliant white light.

[Invoker]

The dark side of the moon.




It was a particularly cold night for this time of the year. An icy wind had set up early in the evening. It blew through some of the cracks and holes within the small room high up in the tower.

A darkness in the corner of the room seemed to grow and with it the temperature dropped even lower. Shadows swirled around eachother, slowly dissipating shortly after. ''So, this is where you are...'' Ithilwen's shape became clear through the blackness around her.

She glanced around the small, mostly broken place. She could not recall having ever been in this part of the tower before. Apart from the climate it didn't do much to her. It probably must have been some sort of storage room in earlier days. What it did have was a perfect view from a window of the bridge and the outskirts of the forest. She saw the black shape of Kael, his back towards her as he watched out of that very window. ''So, what was that all about earlier?''

He remained in silence for long moments, his large bat familiar hanging comfortably from the roof.
"And good to see you too, dear...
I am not sure what you are getting at. Nai had questions for me, and I answered to the best of my abilities. It's not easy to explain arcane weaves to non arcanists. It seems clear, however, that I have to kill this Mip gnome for excess of stupidity...slowly..." A hint of irritation seeping into his usually blank tone when he uttered the last sentence.

Ithilwen let herself glide in a sitting position from the wall she was leaning on. ''True, you are right. It is difficult to explain weaves to those that do not possess the spark. Or to those that in essence, use a complete different form of spells and spellshapes. You could try and teach her, but even if she is gifted, she is gifted in a too different form. She will only scratch the surface of what we do. Never fully understand in the true meaning of the word.'' She took in a deep breath and slowly led it out, remaining silent for a while before continuing. ''This was not completely what I was hinting at Kael. What I was hinting at was your discussion with Nai before that, saying you were no good. I heard you mention this before. Do you truly believe this? That you are some evil monster? I know you like others to think it, to scare them away. But are you starting to believe this yourself?''

The Archmage laughed softly: "You heard the lady's opinion. What's the truth, Ithilwen? Truth, like beauty, is just a matter of perspective. When enough people see you in a certain way, that becomes the truth about you. Perception is reality when the eye is untrained, or when the onlooker does not bother to actually see.... Who am I to go against the general consensus?! Besides...who knows, maybe they are right...

She shook her head slowly. ''People are stupid, Kael. They can be made to believe any lie because either they want to believe it's true or because they are afraid it's true. Look what happened with Celundel. Don't fall for it yourself. Yes, you made choices I do not agree with. Yet, I also know why you did them. You are what you are but the choice in how you act is still yours. The tool in itself is not evil, it is the choice in how to use it, that makes us evil.'' She sighed as she looked up to the window. You believe you are empty, alone... But you are not. Your friends like Mendel, Kai, your family, me...I am right here, and I am not going to let you slip down that mountain.''

The dark wizard sighed heavily, still staring out of the window. As he spoke, Nightwing stirred, a lazy flap of bat wings before wrapping them tighter around its body: "There is wisdom in your words my beloved, but keep in mind that some tools actually are evil, regardless of the way they are employed. My choices are my burden, my own responsibility, and I do not regret them: I did what was needed, what had to be done. As I always do. As for Celundel...he did what he believed was right...not to say he is any less of a dimwit for that, mind you: he could have thought it through slightly better...but he is a dimwit I can understand.
On two things you are right: I am what I am, and... somewhat incredibly given that fact, I am not alone. Let's see how long that lasts...You, of all people, should know what I mean...

She raised her eyebrow. ''How long that lasts? No, I do not follow you...''

The black mage spun around suddenly, his bat bolting out of the window with a screech: "Ohh, I think you do...You heard Nai's questions and accusations. Does it matter if she is right or wrong?" He laughed mirthlessly.

''It does not, and I do not know who put these ideas in her mind but it is not something we can have right now. All we can do now is talk and explain it to her. In whatever way that is possible...'' A hint of anger flared through her otherwise cold voice. ''Ignorance... Why can its effects be so destructive...'' She took a deep breath and her calm demeanor took over once more. ''Whatever happens, you are not alone... You might not understand, but even I can't come back on certain choices I made...Nor do I want to... Perhaps at some point, you will understand what I mean.''

"Knowledge's effects are at times just as destructive...". He stepped towards her, taking her right hand into his left one before adding softly "...and I do understand what you mean. Right now."

[Invoker]

And The River Ran Red...

His allies were discussing, defining the last details before the battle as the enemy advanced towards the bridge they had to hold in defense of Doron Amar. In the distance, faint metallic noises of the kinslayers' force became audible, and more and more distinct with every passing moment even to those who did not have his keen ears.

He paid the voices and the sounds no heed. As war was upon him, he gave himself over to the Art. Whispering the words of power found in ancient formulas written in obscure grimoires as old as time itself, he began tracing the arcane glyphs that would ward him from any and all sources of harm, and spell his enemies' doom.

His companions had timely taken up their strategic positions, spells and steel ready to strike. Ordered, competent, prepared. He could barely perceive them, as his focus was elsewhere. As soon as the first enemies appeared out of the haze on the other side of the river and tried to step on the bridge, they were met by his conjured snaring weaves.

Their attempt to push through his trapping spells was foiled by a massive discharge of magical energies and arrows, and by drawn blades. Turning his back on the killing field, the Archmage moved a hand circularly, almost dismissively, as he muttered: "Voidal Pyroclasm". A celestial inferno of rocks and fire hit the area, sparing only his battle-hardened allies, who continued the slaughter without flinching, in its fury.

The bodies began to mass on the far end of the bridge, the blood flowing thick as limbs were cut, pierced and charred.
And the river ran red...

[Invoker]

Shortly after he touches the wards with his magical gift, an icy voice sounds from the other side of the door.
''I know you are there... You do realize those wards are there for a reason? To keep...people...out...''

From outside the door, she can hear the familiar muttering of blasphemies in some dead dialect of a deader language, before he replies: "Good...good...keeping people out is a respectable practice, I do it all the time. However, I am not people, therefore I am coming in. Don't make me dispel your wards...

It remains silent for a long moment. Just as he is about to attempt to dispel the wards, the blue glow fades slowly from the door. A muttering from the other side can be heard containing the words ''stubborn'' and ''archmages''.

Sighing heavily, he takes a look around to gauge the Dharashan folk's reactions, and then he pushes the door open with his right hand after the briefest hesitation.

"Good day to you, dear! I could not help but notice your rather foul mood... Is there anything you wish to share? Anything I may be able to help with?


''Shut the door...''
It remains silent once more after those three chilling words. She sits on the ground in front of the window. She then turns towards Kael, her eyes cold with a hint of rage for the keen observer. ''Foul mood? By the Seldarine I have no idea what you are talking about... I...am the embodiment of sunshine and rainbows.'' Her voice sounds flat as she turns back and stares out of the window.

"Really? Well, I cannot really say I possess the keen eye of Mendel, but when you pass by the village and flowers freeze in a warm day, even I can tell something is off...You will save your time, and most importantly mine, if you tell me what is going on right now...

As he speaks in a sardonic tone, he waves a hand almost casually and the door closes behind him.

Ithilwen turns towards him abruptly. ''Save your time? Save your time... then why would you come in here in the first place? Did I ask you to come in? Save your time and leave...''

"I said save time, not give up. You know what you mean to me, and you know I will not leave..."
He glides towards her, slowly, his left arm gently touching her shoulder as his glove already begins to freeze
"Talk to me. Whatever it is, it's better shared than kept inside, evidently..."

She sighs. ''I just had a rough day. A giant red dragon decided to land on me.'' A slight chuckle escapes her which causes a jolt of pain searing through her. Her hand moves to the left side of her ribcage. She grimaces. ''The odds of that...'' After a short pause she continues. ''I...almost killed someone today....Someone I considered a friend.''

"I take it the Dragon part is a joke, because if it isn't, tell me where it happened and I will bring you dragon soup for the evening dinner. The latter, however, is far more complicated..."

He sits beside her, ice crystals already forming on his black mantle and hood, puffs of smoke escaping his bloodless lips as he speaks close to her ear:

"Tell me everything" he whispered, almost inaudible. Outside, Nightwing was preparing for his dusk to dawn hunting session, circling the homestead...

[Invoker]

It is dark outside as Ithilwen returns to her chambers. In one hand, the piece of parchment she had brought back with her. After closing the door and throwing her mantle aside, she reads it over and over again. She sits down on the cold floor of her chambers. Her familiar spot right under the window. She glances out over the village that seems to rest under the night sky. A smile appears on her lips at the sight. Her home, her people now. She was theirs and they were hers. She did gain here...then lost, then found back once again...

She found him too...

She lets out a sigh as she stands up and walks over to her desk. She closes her eyes and concentrates to touch a trickle of her gift. A piece of parchment with a quill float towards her. She stares at the parchment and the quill hoovers over it, moving, forming words.

Kael, my love.

I write you these words so you will not be worried. I have to search for something. I do not know how long this will take or if I return with what I seek at all. I might be away for a few days.

Yours,

Ithilwen.

The letter folds itself in the air and she lets it float out of that same window. towards its destination.

At first light, the First Mage can be seen leaving the tranquil village. No emotion shows on her frozen face as she nods to the last of the rangers who guard the elven settlement. A white flash engulfs her, and as the light dissipates, the elven maiden has vanished with it.

[Invoker]

Pursuit

He once more unrolled the parchment with his gloved hands, and read the message. And again. The rock boulders kept raining around him, some even crashing against his wards, but he seemed not to mind. All that existed was the parchment, and its content:

Kael, my love.

I write you these words so you will not be worried. I have to search for something. I do not know how long this will take or if I return with what I seek at all. I might be away for a few days.

Yours,

Ithilwen.

The cold wind coming from the Cloud Peaks lifted his black mantle. He raised his masked chin, his emerald eyes scanning the mountains in the distance, his mind wandering. The boulders were more frequent now, and more accurate. He whispered something, moving a hand as an afterthought and a large rock aimed straight at his head was pulverized and subsequently blown away by the same wind tugging at his cowl.

The Hill Giants had gathered a critical mass, and were now charging towards him with large spiked clubs the size of tree trunks. Perhaps they were tree trunks. Still, he paid them no heed. He was already in the kind of trance every mage knew full well, invoking in his mind the arcane formulas, speaking the words of power in forgotten languages written in time-eaten tomes, and tracing in the air the glyphs of power required for spells of the complexity of the one he was casting.
A dark mist enveloped him, cracking with arcane energy. The first Giant reaching him was also the first one to regret it: his oversized cudgel met a steely-muscled forearm, and splintered almost as his very head suffered the same fate, when a powerful fist connected with his face.

Seeing their fallen comrade, the other giants accelerated the pace as two red eyes watched them from the dissipating darkness. They were too late. The frail-looking humanoid shape that was their target was gone, leaving a large, dark-skinned Devil in its wake. Roaring with the guttural sounds typical of the Infernal Language, the creature spread its huge bat-like wings and bolted into the air, cutting straight through the closest Giant as it took off in a rain of blood and knocking down two more with the air blast it created. In moments, it was out of sight, flying at supernatural speed towards the Speartop Mountain.

[Invoker]

Frantic

Judging by the eternal, harsh white waste all around him, the ice crystals long as a giant's blade and every bit as sharp and the chilling wind that shaped the Cloud Peaks into what they were, and would keep shaping them as the ages went by, it was not hard to imagine the place was definitely cold and inhospitable. Imagine, because he surely did not feel a thing.

The persistent ward against cold he had woven was extremely powerful, and nothing short of the First Mage's mastery of the element would be able to pierce it. Safe behind his magical bulwark, the black-robed figure studied the mountain once more, blazing green eyes scanning the dark mouth of the cavern all over again, as if waiting for it to speak, to answer his many questions.

The trail of power was leading here, but it was faint, and hard to follow. It had costed him time...too much time. By now, his kin would be engaged in battle against the enemies of Doron Amar. A battle he should have taken part to...He dismissed the thought, angrily. He would apologize later...now, he had problems to solve. Searching this complex of caves was out of the question. It could take days, or months...he absolutely did not have the time. Besides...Traveling from the inside was going to be complicated, if at all possible, therefore he had no intention to venture forth only to get lost and being forced to level the Cloudpeaks to the ground to get out. As he pondered, a weary sigh escaped his pale, thin lips as the solution came to him. Back to basics it was...

As the gate he had opened, seemingly sliced out of thin air, vanished all of a sudden, his emerald gaze met the red eyes of the summoned mastiff: "This is hers. Smell it. Find her. And do not worry about me keeping up...I will know when you do". Oh yes, he would...he only hoped to hear the explosion before the mastiff's pieces started flying towards him...

[Invoker]

Judging by the eternal, harsh white waste all around him, the ice crystals long as a giant's blade and every bit as sharp and the chilling wind that shaped the Cloud Peaks into what they were, and would keep shaping them as the ages went by, it was not hard to imagine the place was definitely cold and inhospitable. Imagine, because he surely did not feel a thing.

The persistent ward against cold he had woven was extremely powerful, and nothing short of the First Mage's mastery of the element would be able to pierce it. Safe behind his magical bulwark, the black-robed figure studied the mountain once more, blazing green eyes scanning the dark mouth of the cavern all over again, as if waiting for it to speak, to answer his many questions.

The trail of power was leading here, but it was faint, and hard to follow. It had costed him time...too much time. By now, his kin would be engaged in battle against the enemies of Doron Amar. A battle he should have taken part to...He dismissed the thought, angrily. He would apologize later...now, he had problems to solve. Searching this complex of caves was out of the question. It could take days, or months...he absolutely did not have the time. Besides...Traveling from the inside was going to be complicated, if at all possible, therefore he had no intention to venture forth only to get lost and being forced to level the Cloudpeaks to the ground to get out. As he pondered, a weary sigh escaped his pale, thin lips as the solution came to him. Back to basics it was...

As the gate he had opened, seemingly sliced out of thin air, vanished all of a sudden, his emerald gaze met the red eyes of the summoned mastiff: "This is hers. Smell it. Find her. And do not worry about me keeping up...I will know when you do". Oh yes, he would...he only hoped to hear the explosion before the mastiff's pieces started flying towards him...

Ithilwen touched the iced wall of the small chamber within the cave complex. There must be something...some clue as to what happened to him. The message was not complete. Where was the other part? Perhaps it was still around. She had made a sweep of her surroundings multiple times now. There was nothing...no trace but the old iced over furniture, books and artifacts. What had happened here, and most of all... when.

She reread the parchment again. ''The girl is far away now. Hopefully out of her reach, forever.'' This didn't bode well. So he knew of her past all along? Why didn't he tell her before? A splitting headache was forming and she decided to sit down on the iced floor. She felt helpless.

Candlemarks passed as she just sat there, staring at the paper. She heard something then. Something in the distance, scraping on ice...
She stood up rapidly, gathering the shadows around her instantly. She pressed herself against the wall after tugging away the small piece of parchment. The sound came from up ahead the tunnel. There it was again. Scraping, sniffing... Closer this time. Her breathing picked up. ''Steady...steady... slow...'' She whispered to herself. She moved closer to the sound, foot by foot. Another scratchsound on ice, as if nails moved over it. An animal? In here? Normally they don't venture this deep into the cave systems...

She could hear a yelp now, growling and more scratching on the frosted floor as if it was running. A wolf? She moved on towards the sound. Then she saw it around the corner. A mastiff! Sniffing around, running from one corner to the other as it caught a smell, venturing closer and closer. What by the Seldarine was a mastiff doing down here in the mountains? The question lingered only shortly in her mind. The creature was venturing closer and closer...to her!
Ithilwen took a deep breath and gathered her gift. She could feel the energy build up inside her, gliding down her arm as a soft blue glow grew brighter in her hand. The mastiff came closer, was about to turn around the corner where she stood in shadow. She waited only a moment longer until the beast was right in front of her feet, sniffing where there was nothing to be seen. She unleashed some well placed icedarts on the creature. Empowered by her special gift. One dart pierced through its skull, the other through its spine, a third in the middle of its back, killing the beast within a heartbeat.

A cold feeling creeped up along her spine. A dog, was hardly far away from its owner... Immediately she gathered the shadows around her once more. She moved away from the corpse to keep an eye on the tunnel of who or what might follow. Ready to unleash more deadlier magic.

[Invoker]

Reunion

Right when the mastiff's body began to disappear, sent back to its far from enviable plane of existence, a black robed figure glided into the cold chamber. A humanoid figure judging from shape and size, but spectral, as if cloaked in mists and shadows. The sinister, wraith-like being turned towards the location the infernal hound was dispatched, and he began raising his hooded head just as the arcane words were spoken in the darkest corner of the cave, and an immensely powerful Polar Ray was woven right towards it. The being lifted one shadow arm to protect its face, and was frozen solid exactly in that position, subsequently falling down and shattering in countless ice shards scattering across the large room.

The First Mage of Dharasha stepped forth to inspect the catastrophic damage inflicted by her deadly spell in the subsequent silence, when a chuckle came from the entrance of the chamber, just as a large bat flew in and began circling the scene. "Since last time, in the forest, during the Shovotar days, in a situation like this one I received exactly the same treatment and I barely managed to deflect the attack, I thought to take some precautions this time...I hope you don't mind...dear."

The Archmage's voice had an amused tone, as if considering the possibility of his own destruction were some incredibly funny jest. He reflexively dusted himself off and adjusted his sleeves, tightened his gloves and touched his hood before adding, as he slowly moved towards her: "Let us leave aside the fact we are missing the battle for Doron Amar, and even more annoyingly I cannot snatch the life out of all those pesky human mercenaries personally, leaving Mendel all the fun yet again...What are we looking for?" he paused a moment, before raising his glowing emerald gaze towards her: "You...did not think a note like that one would cut it, did you?"

[Invoker]

Remember Yesterday, Pt. I

The First Mage stood there, motionless in front of him as her eyes locked with his. A hint of rage hidden in her eyes for the keen observer to find. ''Indeed we did walk this path before and I would have believed you to know when to follow me and when not to by now. Why are you not standing with our brothers and sisters for Doron Amar? That I am not there myself makes me feel angry enough, but both of us missing...'' She shook her head slowly. She then stepped over the remnants of Kael's simulacrum to stop close in front of him. ''And yet again, you take a lot of risks. You do realize that when a weave like this one hits you, you'll die in an instant? What were you thinking? A simple sending could have sufficed!'' Her expression changed all of a sudden as something she hadn't thought of entered her mind. ''Sending...'' She walked past Kael with a steady pace, moving up towards the cave's corridor.

The Archmage's eyebrow went higher and higher as she talked, laughing softly when she described his death at her hand scenario. When she mentioned using a Sending, he cleared his throat, before replying in a blank tone, with just a hint of sarcasm: "I am terribly sorry you ever thought I was inclined to do what you tell me to. I realize you wished for me to do as I was told, but there is a hole in that plan, namely I do not take orders. From anybody. Not even the mighty First Mage of Dharasha..."

As he nodded slowly to himself, he glided closer under her piercing, icy stare: "I am not especially happy not to be there for our kin, but I know Mendel, and I know our brothers and sisters: they will triumph, even without my awe-inspiring power (which obviously would have made the entire matter uninteresting...even trivial, really...). As for you killing me with your weave...your concern is heart-warming, pun intended, but there are a few things you failed to take into account in your analysis, few of them being that I am one of the most powerful mages roaming the Coast, I have lived almost four centuries and not exactly quietly, and I know full well how to protect myself...even from one as skilled and gifted as you are, dear..." He paused just enough to lock his gaze into hers: "After all, as you just mentioned, you already tried to kill me twice with that favourite trick of yours..."

He chuckled, before adding: "Had a Sending weave been an option I would certainly have considered it, instead of carving myself a bloody path all the way here, and looking for you with non conventional means to say the least...The same wards blocking Traveling also work on Sending spells, I reckon, so-" he paused as she began moving past him, towards the corridor.
"...Er...Ithilwen? Hello...?" when it became clear she would never have answered, or even listened to him any further, he sighed deeply and hurried after her.

He hated to hurry...

[Invoker]

Remember Yesterday, Pt. II

Her footsteps moved silent but quick over the frozen floor. She could hear Kael following her. They walked tunnel after tunnel until she stopped in another small room. The wall showed a lot of iced glyphs, similar to those she had left in the cloud peak area. Yet these glyphs failed to glow. Their dull blue color only barely showed through the frosted layer of the room. In the middle of the room a small pillar stood. On top were the remnants of what once used to be a sphere. Some of the shards had fallen down to the ground, shattered.

Ithilwen moved over to the broken sphere. She took a large shard in her hand, observing it. ''Well, that explains a lot...'' She sighed visibly as she placed back the shard. She turned around, sensing Kael stood close by her. ''With this broken...I... I don't know how to find him. I have no idea what happened. I fear to know...'' She remained silent for a long time before taking out the piece of parchment she found earlier. After a slight hesitation she handed it over to Kael.

She knows I'm here. I might be too late but so is she. The girl is far away now. Hopefully out of her reach, forever. I taught her all I knew. I hope it is enough. Her gift is strong and it will be her curse. If she ever finds out she won't rest until she has her. Of that I am certain. Jay, if you read this it will be too late for me. You know what you must put in play. She will want to -

''I have come to a dead end...''

He followed her through the ice maze as best as he could. Getting to her had been easy, just following the summoned mastiff and thumping it on the head with his staff when it was going too fast (or too slow...or too medium...now that he thought of it, he thumped it a lot...). Now, obviously, he was lost, more and more hopelessly after every turn and every new corridor, the fleeting figure of Ithilwen kissed by the shadows and fading in and out of sight.

Even for his overly keen senses, it was increasingly hard to hear her faint steps and keep her in sight. He did not like it one bit. "Care to tell me where we are going, or at least slow down below galloping horse's speed? The frozen soil is slippery...I'm not a 120 years old child anymore!" She obviously did not answer, and just as obviously did not slow down. As he passed more and more intricate sets of ice-carved glyphs, he wished he still had a mastiff to thump with his staff...

Finally, after three tendays (maybe it had been a couple of candlemarks only, but it surely felt like a decade...) of marching through this sort of crystal daedalus, she stopped in front of...yet another small opening which he could not really discern from any other. Except...The pieces of a rather big, spherical artifact were lying on the ground. From Ithilwen's expression, that was probably not a good thing. Correction: it was definitely not a good thing. He had no idea just how bad, before she actually handed him the note.

He had a plethora of questions, of course, but he did not get very far with them: "What the...what is this supposed to mean? And who in the Nine is Jay?!?" She paused for the longest moment, then let a shard of the broken sphere drop back onto the iced floor. "I have come to a dead end". Her voice was utterly devoid of emotion, but he could easily see how desperate she was.

"Perhaps... Perhaps not. Tell me everything, we'll figure it out." He said, exuding a complete confidence he did not possess in the slightest.

[Invoker]

Honoring The Blood Of Creation

He could feel his left sleeve soaked with blood, the words of his kin, his friends, his family, the ones he loved still ringing in his ears. The Agelong. There had been little reason to celebrate in the last couple of years, and right now, more than ever he felt old...much older than even his centuries made him...

He had seen his people suffer, fought to protect them, barely survived...then he had been killed by the power of Shovotar, brought back by love and the Seldarine's powers...changed.

As he gazed upon the vast amount of orcs thirsting his blood, he glanced towards his companions. Each and every one of them felt differently: rage, fury, exhilaration, anticipation, zealous fervor...even pain, and a sense of resignation in one or two...But all of them found a common ground in the steely resolve to hunt and destroy their ancestral enemies. To honor their Father.

As the battle began, arrows flying, lethal spells being woven, steel meeting steel, he stood, taking it all in. A fire spell was absorbed by his wards, while a few of his mirror images were shattered by a volley of arrows coming from the right flank. He ignored both. There was another battle in his mind. One had fought a year and a half ago. One that he concluded alone. It was another place, another life, and another Kael. But the hatred...that was the same, unchanged.

"There is hardly ever anything as pure as hate... "

He watched his companions through one of the tavern's windows and a smile curved his lips. Talking, feasting, comforting each other in the warm light of the burning braziers...the bards' music filling the air as they danced...They looked so happy. So serene. He was glad for them.
He longed for those feelings, and he thought this victory, this revenge, would fix him, bring back what he had lost. Now these people...HIS people...his family...a family he had long sought and finally found, were safe, and free. So why could he not fully enjoy the celebration? Why was this darkness creeping around the edges of his happiness, like a hunter in the night patiently, relentlessly waiting for the firelight to fade?

His sad smile waned, then vanished as he raised his rune-engraved hood and turned away from the window in a single, fluid motion, the power of the persistent wards woven on his robe just as enveloping as his dark cloak, falling in place after swirling behind him. A shadow among shadows, he headed for the edge of Darasha, towards the forest. Once in a secluded glade, he lay in wait, perfectly still...it could be any moment, now...

As the first set of the Alarm weaves he placed on the narrow path connecting the High Moor to the Misty Forest alerted him, he snatched the Weave and almost instantly a slice in the fabric of space opened in front of him. He quickly entered the Gate, and flames preceded him out on the other side as he whispered in the arcane language of magic "Killing Rampart". The enormous wall of flames he evoked cut the large orc party's retreat, leaving them no other choice but to face him or die a fiery death. Even if battle weary, wounded, with their morale broken, he knew they would fight him. Just like he knew they would not have the time to regret not jumping into the fire in the first place...

He fed his emotions to the darkness within him, as he uttered in a blank voice: "Grief Elementals". When dawn would come, nothing would be left of the savage mosters but ashes in the wind...

As the world exploded around him, Archmage Kael of the fallen Kalinor, now Dharashan in body and soul, stepped forward into the inferno his companions were already experiencing for endless seconds. He began weaving, aiming certain spells towards key targets like powerful shamans, and others at the largest formations of orcs he could spot, maximising the level of destruction.

And by the time it was over, the orcs had realized why they called him Kor'Vain...

[Invoker]

Remember Yesterday, Pt. III


'There is not much to say Kael. I know as much as you do. Aza never spoke of someone called Jay. Nor of a 'she' that is supposed to be after me.' She tiredly turned her head towards him. 'We should move back. Perhaps we can still be on time to aid our brothers and sisters in the battle.

The archmage pondered for a moment, his gaze fixed on the broken fragments on the ground but obviously looking far, far beyond the actual scene. After interminable moments, he finally spoke in a soft whisper:
Unless...Aza also had no idea about this, or at least not all the pieces of the Mosaic...What i- Ithilwen...?
He could already hear her footsteps getting farther. Muttering a potent curse into a fortunately long-dead language, he paced to follow her once again...


Once outside she welcomed the cold wind, the few snowflakes falling down and touching her face. She loved this place, she always had. It was a place she could return to in the past, a safe haven. But now it no longer was. She recovered the beacon she placed not too far away from the cave complex. It was useless now the sphere had been broken anyway. As she raised herself from the frozen floor and took a few steps she sensed something with her gift. After lingering for only a moment, as she determined where it came from, she took a few steps forward. She turned around to search for Kael. The snowfall had picked up and it made it difficult to see. She saw his dark form plowing through the snow. She raised her voice somewhat.

'I sense something here, someone teleported from this location. It is old but the magical residue is still strong.'

Staggering towards her through the deep snow, which did not do much to improve his already killing mood at all, he already knew what she would say before he even made out the words she was screaming to him. After all, it did not take the First Mage of Dharasha or its Loremaster to sense what had happened. The fading weave had been cast by a considerably powerful individual. Nowhere near his own level, of course...but then, who was?!

Yes...I can feel it.

She knelt down. Yes, this had been someone with considerable power. She didn't believe in coincidences. This desolate place had been wandered by very few only. She spoke some words in the ancient arcane language as she seized the Weave to try and trace the teleportation. What she sensed, she didn't like one bit.

'Amn... By the Seldarine this leads to Amn...'

She watched towards Kael for confirmation, inwardly hoping she had her directions mixed up this time.

Wait, don't tell me: Athkatla, here we come...?!

He chuckled sarcastically, but there was no mirth in his laughter. Not in his eyes. Especially not in his heart. All of a sudden, he felt bone-weary, and found himself longing for that very goblet of wine he always tried with all his might to avoid...

[Invoker]

A New Threat

After collecting the description of one of the most peculiar abominations forming the Undead Army threatening the Reaching Woods, Archmage Kael is seen stalking towards the Arcane Study with the sketch Ivan gave him. Those closest to him could hear him mutter that he has a theory or three on the matter...

The black-robed wizard comes out of the arcane study after barely a few hours of research, seemingly satisfied with himself.

"Yes...yes, I was right. No surprise, of course, as I always am.

I know what Ivan and Vendor faced, and I know how to dispose of the creatures. The weaves I proposed were already perfect for the job, naturally...but what can you expect from a human's knowledge of the Art...?

So...disappointing, even if vastly anticipated...rampart useless idiocy on the loose..."

He sighs, moving towards Mendel, Nai and Ithilwen with a pained expression "Kin...we are surrounded by astounding incompetence...."

Ithilwen raises an eyebrow as she listens to Kael.

'Naturally...'

But would you care to elaborate? I have to say I missed most of your converation with Ivan about the undead. I did see he gave you a description, a drawing of the creatures.

She then nods towards Mendel in agreement

'Yes, so what are they? And how can they be defeated?'

"But tell us, what did you find and how can this help the druids and the Lathanderites? Or an Archmage of your caliber will be needed?"

He scowls briefly at the words "of your caliber" with obvious skepticism bordering offended disbelief, then he narrows his eyes realizing he can't be serious, and decides to reply to the First Mage and the Leader of Dharasha with a moment of silence, before uttering few powerful words:

Behold...the Angel of Decay. One of the most dangerous enemies you have ever faced, and ever will...

He lets that sink in for a moment, before adding:

...but have no fear! I, a mage of legendary power, unequalled and unsurpassed, am here to put my vast knowledge and vaster might at your service, if you desire to face them in battle. Alternatively, you can let the human and his friends go ahead and watch as they join the Walking Dead ranks...because that is what will happen. Trust me...

Ithilwen fixes her eyes on Kael as he speaks. She very well knew this Angel of Decay was not something to be underestimated.

The reaching woods, this is still relatively far away from us. However, this threat is possibly linked with those undead getting closer to the village.

He nods gravely, a silent and monolithic black figure, his arms crossed.

She watches Mendel then.

Do you think this human and his group have the manpower and knowledge to face this threat by themselves? If they fail... What would this mean for us and... Most of all, could we afford to send some of our protectors away on another battle?

He seems to still be lost in thought for long moments, before slightly raising his cowled head and replying:

"The Undead will not stop. If they fail to contain them, they will expand, until someone does. Except, unlike a normal army, they will grow in numbers with each victory instead of thinning their ranks, they do not need supply lines, they do not tire nor become content with what they conquered, or killed. This storm can only grow."

She glances back to Kael.

I know you would love to measure your skill against such a challenging enemy, dear. Though I believe the village should be kept safe, first and foremost.

"I am not exactly overjoyed at the prospect of going to war. I had my fair share of grand scale battles, lately...but the village was attacked before by this very enemy, I reckon. And I don't believe in coincidences.
Aside from telling you what I know, though, I have no intention to influence Mendel's decisions on the matter in any way."

And once he whispered the last few words in a barely audible fashion, the cowl lowers slightly once more and the green gaze disappears in its depths.

She watches Mendel then.

Do you think this human and his group have the manpower and knowledge to face this threat by themselves? If they fail... What would this mean for us and... Most of all, could we afford to send some of our protectors away on another battle?

Mendel listens to both arcanists, clearly very worried. Ithilwens question is not something he havent heard before.

"No I dont think the forces that are gathered there will be able to face this threat. Not without the aid for arcanist of the caliber of Kael, Velaris and you First Mage"

Especially Kael he thinks to himself. He is a lethal weapon and is always willing to help. His constant desire to help his People and his home though, does take a toll on him

Looking at Kael he addresses Ithilwen

"That threat is great and danger to the area. But I cannot ask Kael or anyone else to try to stop it. It is something you have to decide by yourselves. Know that whatever you decide, I will help you in every way I can"

After reflecting for long in the uncomfortable ensuing silence, the Archmage uncrossed his arms, lowered his hood and fixed his emerald gaze into Mendel's. He then proceeded to put his left hand on his old friend's shoulder, nodding silently as his pale lips curved into a wan smile.

He then in turn hugged Nai awkwardly, by his own initiative (something he had never done thus far...) and caressed Ithilwen's frosted cheek with a delicate, loving touch of his left hand before giving his back to everyone and speaking softly:

"I need to see what's going on, and prepare a...surprise for the enemy. Something attuned to my own specific...style, of which details are probably best left unspoken. I will be back soon, I promise. If the Undead host nears the Misty Forest, inform me with a Sending weave. I will be back in a moment, and join the defense."

After taking two steps towards the Arcane Study, the Archmage stopped for a moment, his cowled head and shoulders lowering suddenly as if pushed by an incredible weight

"....and whatever happens...whatever you hear...Always remember: you are my family. And I love you."

Once he whispered the last sentence, he hastened towards the Study, his black cloak swirling behind him like twitching, living night

[Invoker]

The Devil That You Know

SHORTLY AFTER AN EARLY VICTORY OF SVETA'S FORCES' OVER THE UNDEAD, WHERE A GROUP OF REVENANT HAD JOINED FORCES WITH THE ARMY OF DAWN TO VANQUISH THE PLAGUEBEARERS:


The cowled figure stood, silent and motionless as the nightmarish creatures closed in, black mist and shadows wearing time-eaten armors and ancient blades. He waited for the creatures to be within arm's reach, and right when his companion took a step towards them he sharply raised a gloved hand slightly above shoulder height. The slim figure behind him and the revenants stopped as one, hollow eyes fixed upon him. A question unspoken, yet louder than roaring thunder.

When he broke the silence, his voice was a soft whisper, devoid of emotion:

"You kept your side of the bargain. Time has come for me to keep mine...

The dark summoner raised his other hand, and began tracing glyphs of power into the air. As he chanted forgotten formulas in a long-dead tongue, the glyphs blazed with arcane power:

"The Battle is Won
What You Promised, Done
Time has Come
For You to Begone

Those who Invaded
Tainted and Desecrated
With Vengeful Hatred
Are Now Destroyed, Faded

The Battle is Won
What You Promised, Done
Your War is to Cease
It is Time for Release

As the litany drew towards its conclusion, the spirits began to fade, their weapons and armor pieces falling on the cavern's rocky bottom with loud clangs before dissolving into dust so fine it quickly became invisible even to his sharp eyes.

Hours later, once his companion had covered any last trace of their presence, the black-robed arcanist turned towards him and whispered:

"My work here is done. I have been away from my people long enough, and helped these fools more than they deserved.

Time to relocate..."

Grinding a gemstone to dust with his right hand and dispersing its crystals on the runes encircling him, he willed the Weave into the desired shape before murmuring a single word of power:

"Travel"

As the brilliant white light dissipated, it brought with it any trace of the sinister duo