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Post by Kodaka on Jan 3, 2023 18:27:08 GMT -6
Arendale is a city of entrepreneurs, aristocrats and a place for businesses of all sorts to thrive. The city is policed by a force of Ardanian justiciaries and a strong military force whose sheer presence alone are enough to keep the peace. The city is a place where all can feel safe to walk the streets any time of day or night with little fear of misfortune so far from the capital. Over the course of the town’s life it had benefited from more than a few periods of expansion as it transformed from a humble village at the shores of the Twinkling River and into the grand, trade city it is today.
While Arendale is home to many thousands of people, it is also the site of several crafter’s guilds, colleges and libraries, including the Grand Archive at its heart. Because of this, most of the citizenry are very academically-inclined and some of the empire’s greatest minds hail from the city’s halls. Today it’s second in majesty only to the Ardanian capital of Divinitium built at the foothills of the Heavensteppe mountains in the north.
Indeed for such an esteemed gem of a city, it may be a surprise to find that Arendale is situated nearly on the Southern edge of the Ardanian Empire, the Twinkling River being the natural border between Ardanian and neutral territory. The garrison stationed within Arendale repelled many bandits and was even under siege by the Order of Delroth during The War of Strife (WoS). The combination of Arendale’s nigh-impenetrable white stone walls and the elite Ardanian soldiers were enough to keep any and all enemies at bay. It is also said that the walls were also blessed by the Archangel herself.
Following the Great Convergence, the final horrible battle at the height of the WoS that nearly destroyed both nations and both their respective deities, Arendale was one of the first cities the surviving Ardanian forces fled to. It was there that Archangel Arda’s remains were safeguarded for the time being. Though her form was nearly that of a corpse, she was merely converted into a state of dormancy that forever darkened the threshold of the city. Only Arda’s generals knew she was still alive, but were silent out of fear of their enemies learning of her weakened state. The Ardanian people were about to have more much more to be concerned with, little did they know.
Arendale for a time had turned into a place of death and dying, as more of the soldiers succumbed to wounds that did not seem to heal no matter the medicines or magic applied. Not only that, but survivors that appeared relatively fine one day were stricken with severe illness the next. Perhaps as a mercy though this strange illness never spread to Arendale’s citizenry. Just as the sick began to yield to their inflictions, an envoy of Ardanian paladins arrived in Arendale to receive their comatose Archangel.
Though their number small, a small battalion perhaps, the paladins accomplished their tasks in only a matter of days. They helped with the removal of the deceased, collected the survivors that remained, and with as much care as with a bouquet of dried flowers they placed the Archangel into their care. While the city mourned the devastation brought to its gates, the paladins and most of the other survivors marched back to Heavensteppe.
Nine years have passed since then. A week’s worth of celebration was had as the news of the Archangel’s recovery was brought to Arendale and it seemed the dark times have all but passed. An infirmary-turned city that once witnessed firsthand the gruesome aftermath of war could finally return to the peace and tranquillity it had always known. Life progressed as it always did in Arendale, slowly but assuredly. Even as a dark presence beneath the city began to take shape, it was none the wiser. This presence might very well encroach upon the streets from shadowy allies, preying on the unaware. They might not even realize the evil growing below the cobblestone until it was much too late...
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Post by Kodaka on Jan 9, 2023 0:09:00 GMT -6
"Blood and flesh caͬ̃̃ͣ͊̚s̆̀̀̊̿ͤͬt̐ͬ͆̑͂̍̅ aside Eidolon i͞m͜mo̷rt͏al͢ Gods above and below l̛i҉͙͕͙̖̻ed̥̙̜͜ Eidolon e̯̖̩̪̻͓̼t̪͍̰̙e͕̗͖̩̻̥ͅr̟͖̙̭̖̣̤ͅn̥̫a͎̳l̟̺.̳.̰͙̣̤̤.̮͖̳̜̩̟̲"̞̗ |
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Post by Kodaka on Feb 8, 2023 7:21:57 GMT -6
Though the chanted words were hushed, the number of voices alone were loud enough to drown out a man’s thoughts, let alone his sanity. Jakob followed a hooded figure through a dark room that felt more like a cave. It would’ve been almost too dark for him to make anything out, were it not for the strange and faint violet light that emitted from the bottom of the shrine they were slowly making their way past. It was like a fog the light rolled around the ankles of those gathered around the construct, hoods up and gazes fixated on the ground.
As they approached the shrine, Jakob could make out where exactly the light was coming from and that it was no shrine at all, but a large pool of what was hopefully water and a man stood in the middle who was so still it was easy to mistake him a statue. Almost knee-deep in the luminescent liquid, his arms were crossed and chin tucked into his chest. A morbid thought crept up into Jakob’s head when he wondered if the man was even alive. The eerie light shone up from beneath him and gave life to the shadows around the edges of his features as they danced with the ripples of the water. Jakob fought the urge to stop and watch the proceedings and he almost allowed his curiosity get the better of him had he not remembered his purpose here.
Jakob wasn’t proud of it. He knew he needed a kind of power that was beyond his reach and just when he was down on hard times, the cult of Eidolon found him. He remembered being drawn to their black market only a few years ago where he could take jobs that paid quite well at first. There was always a need for a powerful sorcerer somewhere in the land, but it still wasn’t enough. That was when a few of the more sinister-looking ‘merchants’ began to take up residence within the underground society that Eidolon Company slowly turned into over time.
From what Jakob remembered, the Company took a dark turn since those days, the new merchants took over and brought even more of their ilk into the fold. Eidolon Company was still an underground hub for mercenaries and black market dealers, but it was doing something else not very subtly on the side. And there Jakob was, being led into the heart of whatever kind of cult it had turned into.
Minutes or hours had passed them by since entering this otherworldly abode, it was impossible to tell time in perpetual darkness, but whomever Jakob had been following led him into a smaller room that was much better lit than the chamber they left behind. His mysterious companion slowly closed the heavy wooden door as if not to disturb the proceedings outside and turned to face the man. It was robed much like the cultists were though it bore an impressive amount of embroidered patterns onto the fine silk that was a wild indicator that it was different from the curs outside.
This man, if it indeed was a man or even possess gender at all, stood a head taller than a normal man. Though a hood was thrown over just the top of it’s head, Jakob should’ve been able to see directly into it’s face and scrutinize every detail. The thing of it was however was that this man, this thing, had no face. Instead a face, a void greeted him, and a pair of blinking, golden eyes met his gaze. While the eyes did not have pupils, they glowed with an energy of ancient magicks as old as the stones that built the room around them. The manner of hooded creature Jakob was locked deep into this underground labyrinth with was a Shade, a shadow given life in humanoid form.
“Mmm,” a honeyed, masculine voice trickled somewhere from the shade’s ‘face’. “That was an interesting spectacle, wasn’t it?” It blinked and edged away from the door, it’s footsteps completely silent against the slate-tiled floor as it skirted past Jakob and into the room. On either side of them were wooden tables covered with books and scrolls of various sizes, further away on the wall opposite them was a few rows of shelves as well as a door that led deeper into the complex. The violet-robed shade motioned for him to join and Jakob snorted.
“Not sure if I’d call it interesting or concerning, if I’m honest,” Jakob said and stepped into the admittedly much more welcoming looking room. His skin shined like bronze in the candlelight and his lithe limbs swung with a purpose as the tall man stepped into the room. Ceremonial wrappings clung loosely from his arms as he crossed them over his chest to quietly glance around the room. His bald head was also wrapped in bandage-like bands, it appeared to be some cultural attire no doubt from a land far, far from here. His forehead was were a small emerald had made it’s home, embedded into his flesh that looked natural enough for him to have been born with for anyone else knew. His eyes were dyed a hue to match the emerald in color and intensity.
The shade seemed to laugh at Jakob’s response, a sound that was startlingly human. “Ah, now that’s an observation made by most of our newcomers!” It said as it led them to a table with a particularly large stack of books that were off to one side. “While even I think of some of them as a little fanatical, it’s almost endearing how they send off one of their own. Another soul for the cause, and all that!”
Jakob shivered and wanted to ask more but decided that again he must let his curiosity rest for the time being. The golden-eyed shade sat at a chair and the man sat across from him. “Now then,” the shade began and pulled a tome from the stack and placed it between them. The robed creature stared up at Jakob with eyes that brightened and an oddly charming tilt of it’s head. “Have you ever, in your studies, encountered Sol magic or as it’s more widely known as the Sol Arts?”
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Post by Kodaka on Feb 16, 2023 22:12:39 GMT -6
Jakob stared at the shade with a guarded gaze and took a half moment to answer. It didn’t take a genius to know that the Eidolon Company had been dabbling in Sol magic, the man had heard the rumors.
“Not personally encountered it, no,” answered the sorcerer, “I hear about it only in whispers. Sol Arts are a forbidden magic to most. For good reason, I should add.” The shade nodded as if it agreed with Jakob’s statement.
“Indeed. It is one of the most powerful forms of magic, so it’s natural that there are those who would shun it’s practices. You probably learned a little about it, but would you humor me by allowing me to explain its properties?” The shade’s eyes brightened at the prospect of being able to dive into the topic, so Jakob almost feel bad if he were to dismiss it.
“It looks as though you’ve already prepared for this, so please,” he motioned toward the shade who was slowly reaching for the book in front of them, “go on, Master Avarus.”
“Very well!” Avarus happily said. He opened the book and flipped through the aging pages, stopping only about a third into the tome. “I’ll begin with the basics. As you know, Sol is a play on the word ‘soul’, which is what the magic draws from when a spell is cast.” Avarus turned the page for Jakob to see several diagrams depicting glowing orbs with numerous lines of text pointing to its different attributes. Another illustration on the next page showed where in a humanoid creature this orb could be found. “Not only can they be devastatingly powerful, Sol Arts are one of those most personal and expressive forms of magic. A spell cast takes from one’s very essence is as unique as the one caster,” the shade continued. “It is often used to make beautiful works of art, taken directly from the minds’ eye. Not to jest, but it gives literal meaning on putting one’s heart and soul into their work.”
Jakob looked up from the book and felt a small smile pull at the ends of his lips. “You make it sound so sweet and innocent, Master Avarus, but even I know it’s rarely used for such purposes.”
Avarus raised his shoulders and shrugged, “I am sad to agree with you, but nevertheless I agree!” He let out an exasperated sigh and he slumped against the table. Jakob couldn’t tell if he was genuinely disappointed or just being glib. “Indeed, Sol Arts are used for much more wonderful and terrible things. But I should mention the main reason why it’s so dangerous to use.”
“I vaguely remember the reason,” Jakob observed as he looked past the shade and squinted at nothing in particular as he tried to recollect something. “Something about the soul being very finite?”
“That is the gist of it, yes,” Avarus replied with a nod. “We barely know anything about the soul as it is, so using it to power our magicks is nothing short of reckless. Not to mention that when part of the soul is used up, it is slow to revitalize itself…” The atmosphere in the room seemed to darken as Avarus broke eye contact with the sorcerer to turn the page. “What, Jakob, do you think happens when a soul gets completely spent?” He asked, and his eyes were locked back onto the mercenary.
Jakob hesitated as he wondered what the shade was trying to get at. Avarus was definitely interested in hearing what the sorcerer had known, but it was obvious the shade was much more knowledgeable on this subject. That fact alone almost sent a shiver down the Jakob’s spine. This creature, this shade, had a better understanding about the properties of the soul than most of his mentors.
“I… do not know, for sure,” Jakob admitted. “A body without a soul can still function, no? It is not a vital organ like the heart or lungs.” The sorcerer could tell that Avarus appeared a little too gleeful at his answer, no doubt ready to share the true horrors of Sol Arts.
“When someone’s soul is depleted, it cannot grow back. The caster becomes a husk of who they once were,” Avarus said quietly, and Jakob wondered if he misread the shade’s expression, which was strange to consider since shades had almost no facial features. “They become a person without purpose or direction. They are what we have called: the Faint.” Avarus met Jakob’s eye and inclined his head.
Jakob shook his head slowly and crossed his arms, “so that is the fate of those who play with powers they do not understand. Horrible.”
“I take it you’re having a hard time being sold on joining our little group, correct?” Avarus stifled a chuckle and Jakob fixed him with a stern expression. With a furrow the brow the mercenary leaned forward
“Are you still talking about Eidolon?”
“Technically,” shrugged the shade. “Eidolon is only an associate of ours. No, I was referring to my team and what we are working on alongside the Company.”
Jakob sighed. This was turning into a much deeper rabbit hole than he anticipated. Part of him wished he didn’t have to rely on shadowy organizations as a means to get what he wanted. He realized a little too late that such was the hand he was dealt, there was no point in folding now. While he disliked admitting it, the sorcerer was morbidly curious about Avarus’ and Eidolon’s project.
“Alright,” he gestured lazily toward the shade, “tell me about this project.”
“Well to put it simply,” Avarus shifted closer to Jakob from across the table and the mercenary watched as the hooded creature briefly glanced around the room as if worried about any eavesdroppers.
“We are working on a self-sustaining, artificial soul.”
Jakob looked taken aback as he leaned backward in his chair. He was startled into silence. To combine science and magic in such a fashion, any other man might’ve immediately retched. Luckily for him, Jakob wasn’t a righteous man.
“How… is this possible?” asked the sorcerer, aghast despite himself. Avarus only chuckled.
“Now, now. I can’t give away all of our secrets, my friend. Let’s just say that it’s come a long way...” He leaned back in his chair and relaxed, Jakob half expected him to put his feet up on the table with the aura of smugness coming off the shade. “I’ll get to where you come on on this project. For research purposes, we are in need of more soul sorcerers,” he tilted his head toward Jakob, “and it just so happens that I’m sitting across from a sorcerer now.” The mercenary looked startled for a second before scowling at Avarus.
“And risk my own soul all for the sake of your fake one?”
“Oh come now, you won’t be using your own soul, Master Jakob,” Avarus replied quietly. “Eidolon has a plethora of souls at our disposal, of many, many variety.” Jakob grew silent and Avarus stood up from his seat. He closed the book they were using and as he walked it back to another table with several stacks of tomes on it, he added, “I do not expect an answer right away, of course.” The shade turned to face Jakob as the sorcerer slowly stood up and eyed him. “But for the sake of your wife, I would not take too long. It is my understanding that she is sick?”
Jakob’s hands balled up into fists at his sides and he fought back a sudden burst of anger. “How did you…?”
“My superior keeps tabs on all potential business partners,” Avarus answered with a blink. “Well, should I walk you back? It should be easy to find us when you’ve made up your mind!”
“No,” Jakob just shook his head. “I’ve already made up my mind.” He stepped toward Avarus until he was face to face with the shade, then he held out his hand. “You want a soul sorcerer? You got one. Just do right by me, and I won’t have any qualms with you and yours.”
Avarus looked down at the proffered hand as if he was confused by it. Then with a quiet “ah!” He reached out and shook Jakob’s hand. “I give you my word!” Their eyes locked and they both nodded at the other. After the initiation, Jakob stepped back and folded his arms loosely over his chest.
“So, where do we start?” The sorcerer asked, a little anxious to get started.
“First thing’s first,” began Avarus as he turned away from Jakob and made toward the door beyond the shelves. Surprised at the shade’s quickness, Jakob followed after. “We get your familiar with soul magic, with some samples from our soul wells, that is.” He chuckled, and Jakob grimaced. Jakob believed he was only doing one job for Avarus, the middle man between Eidolon and whoever his superior was. Little did he know, it would only result in a permanent employ with the Eidolon Company. The truth of it was in the chant he had heard deep beneath Arendale, said again and again around a violet pool of souls. Eidolon eternal.
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