|
|
Post by makimonster on Mar 3, 2013 3:30:33 GMT -5
Niv-Mizzet remained silent for several moments, tilting his head in mild consideration as he mentally conversed with the temporal researcher concealed behind his throne, and considered the number of ways he could approach this subject. The man had certainly piqued the dragon's curiosity - however, "While you would be right in saying that Niv-Mizzet's Aerie holds the greatest wealth of knowledge that one could possibly find in this fine city, you will not find the answers you seek here, Rafn Viste." His sulfur eyes narrowed and the dragon leaned in, dangerously close. A long puff of hot steam rolled out of his nostrils and enveloped the mage with a sigh. "...At least, as the Orzhov say: Not for free."
The ancient parun sat back up on his throne, stretching like a cat and letting out a roaring yawn before settling back down. "Niv-Mizzet remembers a time long passed, long before the great-great-great-great ancestors of any human alive anywhere was even a thought in their mothers' wombs; he remembers a Ravnica before she was Ravnica, the city before she was a city. He recalls the days when otherworldly visitors would make pilgrimage to this place - and also remembers the days when those otherworldly visitors suddenly stopped -- visiting. Granted, Niv-Mizzet was young at that time - perhaps only a few thousand years old, if he recalls correctly - but of what he does remember of these visitors, he most remembers two things about their otherworldly affairs: Silence, and lies.
"Put simply, the first lecture in taking on the torch that has been ignited for you - and the only free one - that Niv-Mizzet has for you, Planeswalker Viste, is to learn that the secret to success is not to tell everything that you know." With a subtle, gravelly purr, the dragon bared his teeth in a grin, bloodstained by that day's menu of unfortunate assistants. "Granted, silence and lies did not and do not stop the Firemind from learning what he pleases - for he is a master of the matters of the mind - but be sure to remember that for your purposes, you are not a Planeswalker, Planeswalker Viste, but an ordinary mage with perhaps eccentric tastes."
"So! Because you most definitely aren't what you say you are, and because these other worlds and people from them are absolutely a series of old wives' tales, Niv-Mizzet offers you a trade." He licked his teeth from one side to the other, slowly, before continuing.
"Tell Niv-Mizzet a story, Rafn Viste. Tell Niv-Mizzet a story about these other places in -- your head. Should he find it captivating, then Niv-Mizzet will, in exchange, tell you a story about these -- mythological visitors of old. If not, well..." Bloodstained rows of teeth peeked out once again from between the dragon's lips. "You know how the story ends."
|
|
vurma
New Member
Posts: 30
|
Post by vurma on Mar 3, 2013 15:27:07 GMT -5
Rafn listened intently as the great dragon spoke, hoping not to end up another bloodstain on the dragons teeth. Confused by the dragons words, he opened his mouth to form his reply. "I can assure you, these visions were much more than that. However, I will do my best to entertain you with my past."
"On a place called Innistrad, I was born. There is a province there referred to as Nephalia. Nephalia is a dark place riddled with ghosts, ghouls, zombies, skaabs, geists, and everything in between. The graveyards and the alleys were my home, and I had to take what I could to get by. As I grew, I found friends in the spirits of the land, who taught me of history, of the land, and in time, how to summon them." Rafn thought it perhaps best not to mention his curiosity for summoning the undead at this time. After all, Spiritcalling was one thing, Necromancy another. He considered that the dragon would find that side of him... unpleasant.
"Growing up in such a place, I developed a mild interest in the Skaaberen. Men who stitched together corpses to make new, greater, grotesque creatures. I chose any ordinary day to study a particularly infamous Skaaberen, a man known as Geralf. While watching him work, I was discovered hiding in the vast quantity of corpses he had amidst his laboratory, and I was seized before I had the opportunity to escape."
Rafn closed his eyes, as he recounted the experience in his head, and for a moment, it felt as if his scar was fresh. Pressing on, he continued, "I was stripped and latched to the operating table, and the stitcher began taking my measurements. He made his first incision here," he motions to the scar running the length of his face, and points out where it ends on his chest.
"After that, I recall a sudden surge of mana," he paused as the elder dragon's words rang in his mind. For your purposes, you are not a planeswalker, rather an ordinary mage with eccentric tastes, it finally clicked in his mind what that meant, and he finished, "and that's when I woke up from my dream."
|
|
|
|
Post by makimonster on Mar 15, 2013 2:48:48 GMT -5
(I was planning on having this a little longer, but I realize my lack of posting is delaying this thing from moving forward, so I'm going to try and speed things up a bit. I might be doing a little bit of 'modding on my part, but it's just so that you guys can get this going on your own without having to worry about me taking so long because of schoolwork - so sorry for the delay!)
A grin once more spread across the dragon's face. "Good, Mage Viste," came the rumble. "You have learned Niv-Mizzet's lesson. Now for his story:
"Once upon a great, great long time ago, when Niv-Mizzet was not the wearied being as you see now," he began, scratching his chin fins, "he once recalled from the mind of one such madman who thought himself a continuation of these mythological beings thus: There was once a being - a Tailor of Tears, a Sealer of Rifts, a Mender of that time Broken. Her name was Jeska. She died."
Suddenly there was a clanking and popping of metal from a corner of the room, and a huff of dust. The geists that had been pursuing her had already been disposed of by her colleagues, but Chickenlegs had kept running, taking a vent route through the Library and - unable to find the ghostcaller - up to Niv-Mizzet's hall and tumbling out in a pile of dust and one bent vent gate. "G-Guildmaster Mizzet! We've had a breach in the Libra-" The courier stopped dumbfoundedly when she looked up and saw her boss and the intruder standing across from one another and blinking at her.
"Lanky Leather!" she blurted out, waving a pointing hand at the mage. "M-Master Mizzet's gotcha now, spy!"
Niv-Mizzet blinked elegantly at her, then at Rafn, back to Chickenlegs, then to Rafn again. He allowed a long, suspenseful pause, and slowly spread the corners of his lips again from earfin to earfin. "And that's the end of our story. Now get out of Niv-Mizzet's office, before he changes his mind." The doors flung open again and a pair of Guildmages - long called to the entrance before through the Firemind - marched in, bowing to the dragon. "Escort this wayward mage out and bring the nightguard back into order. Niv-Mizzet will have no more disturbances tonight." A duet of "Yes, Guildmaster"s rang out before they took Rafn by the arms back through the doors that shut behind them.
Up until this point, Chickenlegs basically had her jaw on the floor - this was a rare occurrence. She gulped hard and snapped out of it when Niv-Mizzet addressed her, with a slight teasing note breaking through his usual stoic tone. "...'Lanky Leather', Acira?"
"Uhhhh..." The dragon scooped and lifted the courier up on his tailfin, letting her tumble onto the considerably unnecessary padded armrest (pawrest?) of his throne, under his wing. Something in her mind stung like a lick of fire as the Guildmaster probed the events of the previous three days through her eyes; she was used to it by now, but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt.
"... How curious. You did more than Niv-Mizzet would have expected out of you, Acira." He let out a short huff of steam at her, and she winced. "You failed. You know the usual consequences of that." Visibly, the courier winced even more, hunching over like a frightened dog. Before she could sputter out what she was sure would be her last words, however, "Niv-Mizzet recognizes that you are no spy, Adrastos. Your physical speed is unrivaled, but so is your clumsiness and your hesitance to approach a threat, which is why your job is not to chase... usually. For now, Niv-Mizzet is satisfied - you completed your delivery, and that was all he expected." A purr followed, so did the dragon's equivalent of a smirk as he lowered his head so he could look at her, eye-to-eyes.
"Regardless. Now you have piqued Niv-Mizzet's curiosity, little bird." Chickenlegs gulped again. "You are no spy... yet. Fear drives your feet, but curiosity does turn your eyes and ears. You may actually be even more useful than Niv-Mizzet anticipated; take pride in that, Acira. He has a little side-test for you.
"The mage's name is Rafn Viste. Follow him. Deliveries and the Warmind Initiative are still your top priorities, but keep an eye on him and learn what you can of him, and of what he learns. Niv-Mizzet suspects you may lose his trail - Viste is a... slippery one. That is not of Niv-Mizzet's concern. All he asks is that when you do encounter him, follow. Is Niv-Mizzet clear?" The guildrunner nodded vigorously. Her master sensed doubt and question overflowing from her mind, but he only barely acknowledged it. "Good. Now leave Niv-Mizzet to his studies."
She nodded again, and hopped down the foundation of the mizzium throne to crawl sulkily back into the dusty air vent she came from, without question. This job may not have been her department, but Acira knew that it was better not to ask when Niv-Mizzet spares one's life.
|
|
vurma
New Member
Posts: 30
|
Post by vurma on Mar 16, 2013 23:02:06 GMT -5
After being forcibly escorted outside the Izzet Guildgates, Rafn straightened his clothes and began his slow walk back to the Inn.
During his walk, he considered all that the dragon had said. Of the warrior, Jeska, and of his 'lesson'. He appreciated that the dragon had helped him, and that he had managed to leave with his life. However, Rafn was not pleased that he had left with almost nothing about exactly what being a 'planeswalker' meant, nor did he understand any more about how to traverse the planes he had so recently been informed of.
Rafn decided that he should make a formal request to the great dragon for another audience, however, he decided that he could wait some time. Settling in to his bed at The Gilded Lantern, he thought that he should spend some time acclimatizing to this new world.
After all, he knew not when (or if) he would be able to make it home.
|
|
|
|
Post by Icetigris on Mar 20, 2013 14:59:51 GMT -5
Ciela soared on thermals of her own conjuration behind the lucky planeswalker. Rafn was clearly absorbed in his frustrations, which made it easy for her to just follow him without trying to hide. She landed on a rooftop nearby as he entered an inn, and hung around for a while, watching, until she saw a silhouette that resembled him in one of the upper windows. She made a mental note of the place, and headed back to the labs.
As she flapped her wings to gain some altitude, she considered which of her personal projects to work on in the few hours she had to herself. There were always a few full-time Izzet guildmages making a mess of things, but given the lateness of the hour, she hoped the microfabrication labs would be deserted. It was too late to do a full battery of wind tunnel tests anyway.
Ciela arrived back at the guildhall after midnight, the hallways eerily quiet. The only sound was the low hiss of steam pipes within the walls and the soft tap of her footsteps on the polished floor. She poked her head into the microfabrication lab to find a full-timer passed out on the floor against the wall. Ciela checked his vital signs, just to make sure; it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d saved someone’s life (or found someone dead) in the labs that way. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she set a build going in one of the fabricators, grabbed one of her prototype control system builds from her locker, and slipped it over her arm to test it. She had been working on a set of artifact wings that could be finely controlled using one’s fingertips and arm muscles--much like how she used her own wing cloak--without the user needing to be an aeromancer.
As the night wore on, and exhaustion began to creep up on Ciela, her calculations became sloppier and more error-prone, and she realized she couldn’t stop rubbing her eyes. It was time to go home.
She left the fabricator to chug on her build, knowing she’d need to get up relatively early to make sure she could pick up her new prototype without anyone else destroying it. “I’ll go check on what’s his face in the morning,” she muttered to herself as she headed out the door.
Soaring over the rooftops of the Tenth District, Ciela made her way back to her apartment in the wee hours of the morning. It was quiet, and the air was still and cool. She loved the calm of the early morning, though she knew full well that she would regret staying up so late in a few hours (assuming she could actually get herself out of bed at all). She half-stumbled through her front door, kicking her boots off and tossing her wing cloak on the nearest piece of furniture. After setting an alarm and flopping into bed, Ciela fell fast asleep, and dreamt of Zendikar.
---
The clock she had set only a few hours earlier chimed in a shrill, vibrating tone. Ciela fumbled to shut it off and remembered she had a build waiting for her back at the guild hall and a rookie planeswalker to confront. She rolled out of bed, lumbered through her morning routine, and left in the direction of the inn she’d scouted the night before.
Luck seemed to be with her that day, since she saw the wiry young man leaving the inn just as she was coming up on it. She landed abruptly on street level, garnering a few startled looks from passersby, and tapped Rafn on the shoulder.
“Hey. You don’t know me, but I saw what happened last night up at the guild hall.” Rafn looked utterly confused and somewhat horrified. He raised his hand to cast and Ciela took a step back. “Whoa, chill out dude, I’m not out to get you. Let me introduce myself.” He lowered his hand. “I’m Ciela, and,” she looked around and lowered her voice “I’m a ‘walker too.”
|
|
vurma
New Member
Posts: 30
|
Post by vurma on Mar 26, 2013 12:34:46 GMT -5
Rafn had been through quite the night. Aside from a chat with an Elder Dragon (something he himself didn't quite believe had happened) his rest was tormented with thoughts of fire in his head, followed by visions of his home and the spectral companions he had come to.... love? These visions had caused him to wake up multiple times in a sweat, yet somehow he found himself sleeping again and again.
When he finally awoke for good, the Spritcaller sat alone in his room for some time, electing to meditate and get a better feel for the mana present on this plane. It wasn't quite the same as he was used to, and while it was more developed, it just didn't feel right. Yet, he would make do with what he needed. As he meditated, a few wandering spirits found him in his room and spoke to him. Many of them were words to bring to the families and friends left behind, however some merely remarked upon how different Rafn seemed, and that he felt grotesquely foreign. He held small conversations with some, but decided it was best to not inform them of his true home, just in case some of these geists were affiliated with a party he would find unfavorable.
Gathering himself and rising from his position on the floor, he stood up and proceeded into the main area of the inn for breakfast. Choosing an apple and a crust of buttered bread, Rafn found himself eating in the corner, watching the other patrons. Some had interesting things to say, mentioning 'guilds' and various other things, however the majority of them simply shared insignificant details of otherwise normal lives. Children, food, monetary concerns, it was just like Innistrad in a way, and he found this mildly comforting.
When he finished his food, Rafn exited the establishment. Today would be dedicated to simply walking and learning of the place that he found himself in. Not quite sure where to begin, Rafn started to head in the opposite direction he traveled the previous evening. He had taken no more than a single step when he heard a slight thud behind him, and felt a tap on the shoulder. Rafn turned, ready to defend himself, but seemed to recognize the girl in a way he couldn't quite place. She introduced herself, and revealed that she too, was a 'planeswalker'.
Taken aback by the supposed 'walker in front of him, Rafn simply stared at Ciela. For a time he was silent, studying everything he could about her and considering all his present options. Eventually he spoke, "Your clothes," he said, finally realizing how she looked familiar and motioning to her garb, "are you with the dragon?"
Though excited to meet another like himself, he hid this emotion. His aim was to ascertain if this girl could be trusted, and for the present moment he wasn't sure if allegiance with Niv-Mizzet was something that deserved his trust.
|
|
|
|
Post by Icetigris on Mar 26, 2013 20:13:35 GMT -5
“Dude, do I look like an Izzet guildmage to you?” Ciela flapped a corner of her purple-tipped white wing cloak. “Eh, I guess you wouldn’t know. How long have you been here? Izzets usually walk around in blue and red and wear a ridiculous number of mizzium armor gadgets. You probably saw the one that ran me off a rooftop last night.
“To answer your question though, I am ‘with the dragon’ only insofar as I get to use their labs and library. I do contract work for them, so I’m not really an Izzet. Not a full one, anyway. That would require, you know, sticking around.” Ciela started walking. “I’m headed over there now to pick up a prototype from a personal project before some full-timer breaks it, if you wanna tag along.”
|
|
vurma
New Member
Posts: 30
|
Post by vurma on Mar 28, 2013 15:29:32 GMT -5
Uncertain if this girl's intentions were pure, Rafn elected to gamble on it. "...yes... I shall accompany you," he states, expressionless. If she was truly meaning well, then he had nothing to worry about. However, if her intentions were sinister, he was confident that he could escape (or, if he had to, kill) her.
"Lead on."
|
|
|
|
Post by Icetigris on Apr 2, 2013 13:35:48 GMT -5
Rafn was quiet and seemed very stiff, like he was trying to hide something, and it was starting to creep her out. She thought back to when she first started planeswalking alone and remembered being a little paranoid. He’s probably thinking about how to kill me and escape right now. She chuckled internally.
The silence, which would have been awkward for most, was really just beginning to annoy her. Ciela preferred to fly whenever possible because it was much more fun and a lot faster, and walking alongside this guy was, at the moment, neither fun, nor fast. “Soooo...what brings you to Ravnica?”
|
|
vurma
New Member
Posts: 30
|
Post by vurma on Sept 6, 2013 21:15:42 GMT -5
It was unusual for him to travel with a companion, so small talk was not really something Rafn had much experience with. Preferring to walk in silence, he simply continued along for a minute or so without answering her question. After what most would probably consider an uncomfortable amount of time, he replied, "Information on... whatever we are."
|
|
|
|
Post by Icetigris on Sept 6, 2013 21:24:34 GMT -5
"Well I can tell you what I know about being a 'walker, but we should probably go somewhere that isn't a busy street." Ciela looked toward the Izzet Guildhall and grabbed the edges of her cloak. "I really do need to get my prototype before someone destroys it though. How about we meet somewhere later this evening? There's a bar in a mostly unaffiliated segment of this district called the Blinking Drake."
|
|
