Eril'lin F'ea

[Teo]

Eril'lin sat at the fire in Center, thinking. Recent events had warrented a great deal of thought about his magic. Thus far, he had developed all of his spells through trial and error, in the style of a true sorcerer. He had little to no outside influences on his casting styles, so his magic was very simple. Protect party members, throw fire at the enemies. It was all that his past experiences had warrented. But now, he had found a situation that warrented further, more sophisticated magic. Scrying, divination, that sort. Lola had gotten an eye put into her empty socket, that turned out to be tied to some sort of skeletal figure that was watching her. Through scrying. Eril'lin thought of himself as someone that Lola, another sorcerer, should be able to learn from. But now he found himself in an area that he had no knowledge in. He had seen the halfling Acacea perform a scrying ritual once, and that was unsuccessful. Aside from that, all he knew was that you needed some sort of reflective object to look through. Perhaps this would be an experience that he could learn from. Lola's eye was a puzzling fact. She found it inside of another larger eye that was independently moving, clearly of magical creation. Lola said she had detected both divination and necromancy on the eye, and after removing the necromancy, she put the eye into her empty eye socket in order to try to reverse the scrying. It had worked for a moment, and she saw a skeleton looking into a crystal ball. Eril'lin thought that the easiest solution would be to take the eye back out, but Lola had said that it hurt as if trying to take out a real eye. The eye must have planted himself into the socket, and taken the role of a normal eye. Lola wanted Eril'lin to be there when she would have it removed by a medical man. However, Eril'lin thought that it would not work as planned. Whatever the skeleton and his crystal ball were, they would not let this eye be destroyed. It was a fine magical creation, one any mage worth a pinch of salt would attempt to protect. [/i]Eril'lin looked down at his Magic Suplies box, a small blue box with slots for wands and spell components. He had a feeling his, Lola's, and her friend Neema's magic would all be needed. He made sure all the things he anticipated needing were in the box, and he closed it. He had done all he could do to be prepared. Now all he could do was try to keep himself, Lola, and Neema safe from whatever may occure.  [/i]

[Teo]

Eril'lin was busy working on his most recent gollem, a sword wielding suit of armor which had served him well that day. It was in need of oiling, a process Eril'lin was still getting used to. It was his first metal gollem, and he had ruined two suits with oil while he was learning.

He had been on a journey with a paladin of Lucindia, a good traveling companion. Through protecting the paladin, Eril'lin had found a new style of casting in battle. Before, when he was alone, he would confuse the enemy and rain fire upon them. In a group his tactics switched to casting wards, and firing at the enemy when it was safe. But today, fighitng goblins that were capable of sometimes dodging the fireballs he flung their way, he found mind magics to be his most effective weapon. Using spells he previously dubbed useless, such as daze, he was able to immobilize the goblins, and then made way for the paladin and his sword, who he kept hasted. This new support role was very satisfying to Eril'lin, and he thought that it could be even more useful in a larger party. A group of furious dwarves, whom he would cast mass-haste on, would cause havok on a group of confused and disoriented enemies. In his head, he thought, perhaps not dwarves. Perhaps elven warriors, something a bit more tasteful. He grinned a bit and went back to oiling the gollem.

[Teo]

Eril'lin had been to the Deep, to pay a visit to his Dark Elven cousins. Fearsome in combat they were, if not for the skills of an archer named Kalberen, Eril'lin feared he would have fallen. They were resistant to his magic, a firebrand only harming one or two enemies out of a group of ten. Eril'lin decided that he would need to once again begin practicing a spell of transformation. In the past he cast a spell that turned him into a great demon knight, capable of laying waste to enemies in melee combat. But it has been a long time since he cast that spell, and would need to begin practicing once again. But a spell of transformation would allow him to fight his dark cousins, who are resistant to magic, in hand to hand combat. This also could prove worthy, he thought, against the dwarven monks who reside in Prantz, the very ones who killed his brother. In the back of his mind, Eril'lin always held a hope that some day he would return to Prantz, staff in hand, to avenge his family and kick the fat dwarf off of his throne. But such a thing was unlikely to happen, and success was even more unlikely. For the time being, Eril'lin could only hone his magic.