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       #Post#: 405071--------------------------------------------------
       The Exiled Mage 
       By: Imperfect Date: February 10, 2016, 2:31 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Eyes dart around the darkness. A glow of amber; little gems
       glisten under the moon's light in the window of a shop, the
       cracked glass on the concrete floor proving to be a match for
       the shimmer of the jewels in the store, as the rapid hands of
       the black mage continue picking and pushing them into the
       backpack she held firmly. The muscles in her arms flex, the
       weight of the jewels not hindering her movements or her speed,
       and after stuffing the last bit of it into her black bag, she
       flings it over her shoulder with ease, heading out nonchalantly
       into the cold of the city.
       The city of fools; the air is icy though it didn't compare to
       that of her homeland's forests, the singing bay, called so
       because of the cries and howls of the glacial waters, was much
       missed but the exiled one had been marked. In her father's eyes,
       an execution would have been an appropriate exploit but as his
       oldest heir and the certain rules in their society he wouldn't
       go against his own flesh and blood. The hollers of a few dogs on
       the road emits a role of her eyes before pacing with a quick
       shift, back into the darkness, the men that pass by laughing,
       pushing each other about, as she idly stands and watches shaking
       her head at their ignorance.
       What interested Irusia were not the mortals but the other
       entity; the other presence that itched at her annoyingly, though
       she couldn't pinpoint the source of the power that emanated and
       filled the dull streets. It caused somewhat of a rift in her
       otherwise preoccupied mind but with the woman's compulsiveness,
       not knowing something only irritated her, so she follows the
       group of men, in hope to find this other stranger, keeping
       herself at a safe distant, but not too far either. The smell of
       danger was near and Irusia wore it like a perfume, her favourite
       perfume. As they continue and come to what seems to be the end
       of the street, she slows down.
       The mage was blind, but her other senses were more than enough
       to compensate for her one weakness.
       
       #Post#: 405156--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Default User Date: February 12, 2016, 9:27 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Shadows; bound to the form of a man, draped in silence like a
       cloak, shifted between shop and stall unnoticed. Coins,
       trinkets, anything within arms length was gone without
       complaint. No one was the wiser; none of the merchants would
       even suspect they were being burgled, as darkness swept across
       the shopping district of the small town and left it without a
       trace. The thief moved away from the area with cautious steps;
       slowly dropping the many spells that lay weaved about his form,
       as he brought about a small black satchel and examined the
       stolen goods.
       "Maybe a grand at most" he thought "This little town is all
       tapped out"
       He wandered for a few minutes; checking for other locations to
       steal from, but to his dismay, the city was nearly empty
       nowadays. It had become nothing more than a small port for
       shelter and horribly over priced wine. The few establishments
       still pulling in the real money were well guarded and their
       owners even moreso. So they were always out of the question for
       a single thief...
       As the black clad man roamed the alleys and worked his way
       closer to a small shack near the edge of town, he made a mental
       note regarding an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Not one
       of hunger; though he was starving after the hours of walking,
       but instead it was one of worry. He often trusted his instincts
       and ran when confronted with something he was unsure of, but
       this time he felt as though waiting was the best option. He
       stowed away the day's haul in a small safe hidden deep inside
       the humble shack, went outside into the nearest alley once more,
       and with a practiced speed and grace, began channelling a vast
       array of unseen spells simultaneously.
       The area grew deathly quiet; as if sound was too weak or too
       scared to move through the small alley, and after the silence an
       unhealthy stillness seemed to grip the confined walkway. The air
       tasted stale; as if already there was death upon the breeze, and
       yet there was no breeze, nor sound, and within a few seconds the
       smallest of shadows at every corner and crevice nearby, had
       expanded up onto the walls and engulfed the entire area.
       Darkness washed over the hallway as if midnight arrived early,
       and with his eyes slowly closing, the thief ushered one spoken
       word and the entire area returned to normal. Reverting to the
       late evening, the air blowing down the darkening alley, the
       light sound of wood creaking and distant footsteps. It all
       returned in an instant as the thief opened his eyes and casually
       leaned against the nearby walling of another small shack.
       He knew that whatever lay in wait for him or sought him out was
       on the way. He had felt it without uncertainty, and now he would
       await fate's arrival...
       #Post#: 405206--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Imperfect Date: February 12, 2016, 11:58 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Irusia had only just arrived in this broken, poor excuse of a
       city, with no law reinforcement to put any of the residing
       citizens at rest - their town was being turned over in the dead
       of the night and it seemed even the ruling bodies had given in
       to the thieves, the violators of basic moral principle. Among
       them, there were two, one being herself, mystical beings, that
       seemed out of place, yet assimilation and -intelligence- allowed
       them to seem like any other, on the prowl. He was different, his
       powers were unique to hers and this only intrigued her further.
       "Damn it," she whispers, both annoyed that she had missed that
       minor deter and enthralled that she could finally have some sort
       of contact with another who practised magic, openly. After all,
       she had been thrown out of her city and hadn't had the chance to
       meet another, being so busy with stealing and trying to conjure
       up enough to go elsewhere. She was left with little to no powers
       and needed to find the darker ancients, those willing to face
       penalties for the sacrifices she would offer them in return for
       her magic, in return for a pendant she held dear. She had a
       cellar full of squealing humans, some that had come to welcome
       the idea of death, others still reluctant, losing and regaining
       their voice to scream, the same tedious cycle every night,
       hoping for a saviour to come along but deep down, knowing
       better; none would.
       The woman wasn't aware where her teleportation spell would lead
       her, only following her gut and letting it take control of her,
       trusting her instincts entirely. When she was met with the cold
       ground under her bare feet, she took a few steps forward,
       reaching out so her fingers could touch the nearest wall, to her
       right. She walked, nails hovering over the wall, barely touching
       it, before there was no more wall left for her to graze. It was
       an alleyway. And there he was, leaning, waiting.
       "How did you know I'd come?"
       She asks, haunted, colourless eyes seemingly looking through
       him, continuing forward with no plans to stop until she's
       completely ignored all sense of personal space, sniffing at his
       clothes, his face, his chest, bottling his scent in her memory.
       And then, leaning forward, showing the blue veins under her pale
       forward, she speaks once more, her voice resonating in the air.
       "And what the fuck are you. . . exactly?"
       
       #Post#: 405214--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Default User Date: February 12, 2016, 12:12 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The thief was pleased when his snare worked perfectly; almost
       laughing aloud when another wielder of the arcane came walking
       into the alleyway, but when the woman approached without
       hesitation or concern, his own concern began to grow. Surely she
       would have felt the pressure of his magic, and yet she walked
       straight down the path of waiting darkness and breached the
       security of his own personal space. With her lips so close; her
       own scent lingering on the air before being strewn down the
       alley with the breeze, the thief hesitated to give a direct
       response. His instincts told him to pop the trap and run for
       cover, but there was no way of knowing when he would again meet
       a wielder of powers like his own, and he was too curious to let
       his thoughts of flight continue.
       Instead; though it took extreme willpower to do so, he
       straightened out before the wall and circled the seemingly young
       woman. He took in every inch as he walked casually about her,
       and when he had come full circle he addressed her with a polite,
       although icy tone. "I am as you are... and I knew you would come
       because I led you here"
       His words fell from between his lips as a sly smile toyed with
       his expression of calm. His normally blue eyes shone with an
       intense curiosity as he looked over her facial features and came
       to find nothing. There was no fear or worry. No anxiety or
       hesitation. How she could be so resolute was beyond him, but as
       he once more leaned against the wall in a relaxed position, he
       began preparing for the worst and silently hoping for the best.
       She could be a foe no doubt; though her willingness to step into
       the range of his spells would say otherwise, but on the chance
       she was an ally, he waited and watched her.
       It had been many ages since he had ran into another arcane
       artist, and the last was far less attractive, and far more rough
       around the edges. He could tell without needing to witness her
       power that she was confident and competant; two dangerous
       qualities in a mage, and two very bad things for him should it
       turn into a fight, but still he wanted to know more about her,
       so he stayed and waited.
       #Post#: 405229--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Imperfect Date: February 12, 2016, 12:42 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Irusia seemed weak but the dark magic she toyed with was one of
       the reasons she had been lead out of the singing bay and any
       refined mage would come to realise just how powerful she is and
       how far she was willing to go to secure her powers once more.
       She could sense his unease at her intrusion, but chose to ignore
       it, pale skin and pale hair would blend well with the white
       satin of a coffin, but her own death wasn't on her to-do list
       today, figuring that ignoring the trap he had set up would be
       better than to acknowledge it and give him wisdom on just how
       observant and skilled she is. Instead, she thought it better for
       him to believe she was oblivious to it all. But through all
       this, she didn't underestimate him, the capacity of his own
       prowess evident.
       When he circles her, he would come to find salacious curves,
       long ivory plaited hair resting between her chest and the ragged
       clothes that covered her, grey with dirt. As he rests against
       the wall once more, she nods in respect for his words, her right
       hand coming to lay flat on his bare skin, cupping his cheek
       before the fingers on her left proceed to softly trail over his
       features. His brows, eyes, nose, and finally lips, coming to
       stop at his chin.
       "Hmmm," it was a hum of approval, "right, let's go."
       Having said this, not caring for consent, her left hand
       retrieves back to her side, the right one taking his to lead him
       to her lair, her prison of -subsequently- weak corpses. A portal
       opens up, and within a second, they stand before a black
       building, debris scattered on the vast plain, full of dying
       flowers and fauna. The odour was enough to draw anyone away and
       she finally lets go of his hand, stepping over the dead animals
       nonchalantly, accustomed to where they were, having done this
       time and time again whenever she lured fresh meat back here.
       "Come now. . ."
       And when she opens the door, he would hopefully come to realise
       she would be no threat to him unless of course, it came to it.
       
       #Post#: 405233--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Default User Date: February 12, 2016, 12:55 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       As if the day hadnt started off odd enough; finding another mage
       when so few existed, now this obviously attractive and powerful
       female was leading him away from his well planned trap and
       elsewhere. What would happen? What could he do? He had so many
       questions, and yet with her leading him forward through the
       portal, he let them all go. His fascination in finding a new
       form of magic and witnessing such delicate features manifesting
       them was too much to hide or stop. His eyes were alight with
       possibilities as he passed through the horizon and entered the
       other world.
       The instant change in pressure; the smell of death, the twisting
       and writhing of shadows, it came as a surprise to the thief as
       she let go of his hand, and even still he knew he would not stop
       following until she wished him gone. There was an unmistakeable
       appeal to the woman, and so far, Aden; the Thief, would allow
       his curiosity to stretch further. He would learn what he could
       and prepare a route out should he need to... After all, being in
       an unknown land, within the grip of another mage's power, was
       not the greatest of ideas for one such as himself. He had to
       stay cautious and alert if he was to guarantee his own survival.
       But he anxiously awaited what lay further inward as the young
       woman opened the door and addressed him to enter. What sat
       beyond the door would surely be worth seeing if she had brought
       him all that way. So with a final look back at the portal soon
       to close, he entered the doorway and waited for his eyes to
       adjust...
       #Post#: 405244--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Imperfect Date: February 12, 2016, 1:47 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       "You're going to need a strong stomach for this. . ."
       
       Beyond the entrance to her own experimental prison, there were
       sixty bodies, both male and female alike who were evidently
       malnourished, heavy bags weighing their eyes down, empty eyes
       void of any emotion but the ongoing turmoil Irusia had
       introduced. There were bonds keeping them from escaping, the
       very few who had done so had paid the price and were lying in
       the corner of the room, a lesson to everyone else. They were
       stricken with hope when they looked up, to find the man standing
       beside Irusia, probably assuming he'd be their ticket to eternal
       freedom. And who knows, perhaps he would be. But Irusia hoped
       deep down he'd cooperate and even help her in her venture, for
       it would be of value to him too if he did. It would mean more
       power, irrefutable strength.
       To deny her of what she wanted more than anything in the world
       would be a consequence in itself.
       When she had traced his features earlier, she had been surprised
       to find the face of a handsome creature, more or less her age,
       though she was unsure still of her assumptions. The air, unlike
       earlier, was thick with a vile force, one only welcomed by the
       Devil, and the stench of excrement made it heavier and
       unwelcoming. Irusia paid no mind to this and continued on,
       through the bodies and down to the end of the room, inviting him
       to come with an incline of her head.
       If he was willing to help she would forever be in his debt. And
       they could end up becoming great alliances, maybe something
       more, the possibilities were endless. As of right now, she
       didn't get her hopes up but spoke up once more, to explain why
       these bodies were necessary.
       "You see. . . the ancients, the twisted ones anyway can help me
       but in order for that to happen, they would ask for something in
       return."
       She left out what she needed 'helping' with intentionally,
       waiting for a reaction.
       
       #Post#: 405247--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Default User Date: February 12, 2016, 2:00 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Aden instinctively recoiled at the sight before him; his nature
       being one of the thief and not one for the macabre or darker
       arts, but still he had seen his fare share of wicked enterprises
       and dismal abodes. So after a few moments of further solidifying
       his resolve, he was capable of withstanding even the atrocious
       odor that wafted to and fro in the dank dungeon of near decayed
       living beings. His eyes wandered over each and every human who
       lay in tatters; physically and mentally broken beyond repair,
       and with a few steps here and there to further inspect the
       obvious sacrifices nearby, he looked back to the woman leading
       him into damnation.
       As she spoke; though barely audible against the forced breathing
       and groans of pain coming from all directions, the thief's
       attention was caught and his curiosity piqued. "Ancient ones?"
       He asked with a light grin "As in those we mages are forsaken
       from speaking to or bargaining with?" His question was lightly
       spoken; no hint of amusement or delight in the civil toned
       words, but deep down he was suddenly aware of what the woman
       truly was. Of the dark and malevolent ways she held. He did not
       wish her to know his excitement just yet; nor did he want her to
       think him completely disinterested, so instead of acting on urge
       or impulse, he remained calm as he followed along in her wake.
       Painfully aware of each set of eyes that rose to look upon him.
       Each hopeful expression quickly wiped away when next he did
       speak.
       "What would they ask, and what.... do you wish from me?"
       #Post#: 405259--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Imperfect Date: February 12, 2016, 2:58 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       "Yes," she answers, "those ancient ones."
       Irusia had already been acquainted with a few but to call upon
       them unprepared was to disregard the respect they demanded and
       they'd deny any requests she had, so she made sure that everyone
       and everything was in place before the thought of welcoming them
       even crossed her mind. However, they would surely revel at this
       sight. After all, it was these strong, healthy hearts that
       revitalised and kept them going and in that discourse, she would
       not only be ranked among them but also favoured and essentially,
       that's what the mage required. Power on her side.
       Her brows furrow as he asks his second question, thinking that
       was obvious but clearly mistaken.
       "Look around you dear. . . these humans are what they'd ask for.
       How do you think the darker immortals retain their power?"
       She pauses for a moment before continuing, thinking it safe to
       trust him, though not completely. He had a long way to go for
       Irusia to let her guard down.
       "As for what I need from you. . ."
       She needed one thing but she didn't know yet if he was willing
       to give it. She didn't have enough power to conjure the dark
       entities by herself, so she needed to draw on his power in order
       to do so. The two of them together would also bring delight to
       the world he seemingly hadn't visited, judging by his first
       question, to have not one, but two archaists call upon them when
       they were shunned by every other mage, they would be rewarded,
       generously.
       "I need to bind our powers," her colourless eyes look up, "my
       intentions are pure."
       My intentions with you at least.
       As for my father. . .
       #Post#: 405265--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Exiled Mage 
       By: Default User Date: February 12, 2016, 3:12 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       One word rung in his mind like a whaling alarm. "Pure" She had
       said it with crystal clear intent; no hiding what she felt or
       meant. Yet the word alone seemed like a dark portal to the
       thief's mind as he wondered whether to believe her. Put simply,
       it sounded so wrong under the circumstances, to state any intent
       as pure; though as the thief knew, purity was more of an idea
       related to conviction than to good, and as he let it sink in
       what she had said and truly thought over the idea of
       relinquishing his power to her, even for a moment, he began to
       truly worry.
       If she were to take his power for but a moment, or feed from it
       during some ritual, he would surely stand no chance. With each
       passing moment and step farther into the interior of her
       dungeonesque lair, he knew he stood less and less likely to
       survive. Yet he continued onward, through his own fears, and now
       stood at the precipice. One step forward could be his last, and
       one backwards could be too late. There was little choice; she
       had won already, and he knew it. If it were chess, he already
       knew what he would do, and where she would move to end the game.
       No more chances appeared for the thief, and even if he used all
       of his power, escape wasnt a guarantee.
       He couldnt run
       He couldnt hide
       He didnt want to... As his mind cleared and his thoughts reeled
       in, Aden finally figured out why he followed in the first place.
       It wasn't for the physical attraction to the female mage; though
       her figure and voice were enough to captivate, and it wasnt for
       his want to learn, but instead it was for his instant knowledge
       that she would lead him further than he had ever been before.
       She would push him over the edge and let him fall when he
       wouldnt do it himself. She would not be his savior, but the one
       who damned him...
       What he had waited for... for so long
       His eyes turned to meet hers; though his view was that of the
       future to come as he saw it, and with a shallow voice rising up
       into that of a confident man, he agreed to help.
       A simple smile; genuine for the moment, graced his lips as he
       nodded to her and spoke with the subserviant tone he knew from
       ages of study under a master mage. "Lead the way"
       *****************************************************
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