*A Greater Sanctuary Spell surrounds her*
The returning pair hear nothing of Tyrian's words, the superior concealment afforded by her Greater Sanctuary spell effectively blocking her voice from reaching outside of its effect.
*Tyrian shakes her head and mutters about the sickness possibly muddying her brain and dismissed the Greater Sanctuary surrounding her. She appears and repeats herself*
//oops!
"Alandrin of Spellgard," the mage says with a careful and slightly flourished bow. "Specialist in Necromantic arcana in the service of the Lady. And you must be the Cursed One your friend spoke about."
"Alandrin, well met ser. I am Tyrian Baldu'muur and Yes... I am obviously the cursed one. *wipes some puss off her face* I have a knowledge of necromancy as well, through years of study, but I have no real practical experience in the... art, if you would call it that. *pats her tomes next to her* But I can find nothing similar to what is happening to me. Where shall we begin?"
"Thank you Dev for bringing him here, hopefully he shall have some ideas to help us both. Dev please send word to Argos in Haven and tell him that we are meeting with Alandrin and inquire if his searches have found anything as well."
She settles down on a few blankets by the fire.
"A pleasure, Miss Baldu'muur," Alandrin says with another short bow. "And all of Magic is indeed an art, full of its own wonders and beauty. Necromancy is often so misunderstood, but alas, you have not come for a lecture on such things. Let me have a look at you. And sir, if you would sit near her so that I may more easily make a comparison between you...?" Alandrin looks to Deverain, raising an eyebrow questioningly in his direction.
*shrugs, muttering* Necromancy ain' understood, undead are dirty an' that's that. Go ahead and compair and stuff then.
Alandrin appears to take Deverain's comment in stride, acknowledging it with a simple nod but not seeking to engage him in the matter further. His examination of Tyrian is much as the one he performed earlier on Deverain, though it lasts longer and seems slightly more in-depth. His eyes move between the two several times thorughout. He eventually straightens and relaxes back a little, having not realized he had been leaning in during his effort.
"Well....this is interesting," says Alandrin. "I can't say I've seen this exactly, yet parts are familiar. The good news is, it might wear off on its own. I cannot say when that might be, however...could be quite some time in truth. And it seems....old. Very, very old."
He pauses and looks between them, holding further commentary for the moment and giving them a chance to speak.
Tyrian tilts her head, "It MIGHT wear off? Sometime, in a LONG time? Umm... ser I'm pretty sure I shall be a full blown zombie by then. How the hells am I to run my Inn like this? It MIGHT wear off? I think perhaps you should be a bit more forth comming about what you have learned here. And what do you mean by old? Perhaps I should go to the followers of Aragen if that is the case, or perhaps even the Aerdinites."
She crosses her arms and stares at him firmly the best she can in her current state.
"Forgive me, I misspoke," says Alandrin. "I mean to say it will most likely wear off in time. Such is the nature of most arcane curses. Yet this one is a little beyond my experience, so I cannot tell exactly how long it will take. Could be weeks...months...years! Even I must admit such a duration does not seem pleasing in the least. But fortunately, there are very likely solutions that will take significantly less time. I believe I know some who can indeed help you, if you are up for the journey."
He pauses only for breath.
"As for its age...I know only that many of these sequences are not used anymore. To my eyes, they are less refined...less mature, though no less effective and with their own elegance. They do not fit the usual patterns of human mages, and they are very unfamiliar. It is like seeing very old writings, where there is enough similarity for one to be able to recognize the letters and words with some effort, but they are quite different from what you know. The good news is they're not draconic. Of that I am certain. If I had to guess, I would suspect elven influences. The others would know better."
"To Alindor, of course" says Alandrin. "Erilyn to be specific. Castle Imjam to give a name to the place you must go. There is there a sect among Her faithful who are singularly devoted to what many consider to be the 'darker' arts. If any would know how to help you, besides the one that cursed you, it would be them."
Alandrin nods once in affirmation and straightens a bit.
"My Dear Lady, I can see that you are skilled in Magic, but Magic is not written in the language of those who use it. Magic is its own language...an art form of its own with many, many interpretations. When I say the curse seems to have elven influences, I mean it bears a certain...flow, and perhaps grace, that reminds me of spells I have seen woven by elven mage scholars. I am not talking about the toolbag of spells most adventuring mages carry with them but rather magics meant to persist and endure through time. If I were to describe it, elves seem to prefer weaving spells with an almost organic feel to them. Dwarves....much of what I've seen of dwarven magic is often utilitarian and sometimes feels as if it were chiseled from stone. Rare is the dwarven artisan that produces a work that is appealing to non-dwarven eyes...though I cannot fault its effectiveness. The Magic of dragons...masterful with many interwoven layers and intricate details that seem nearly infinite. The one time I was fortunate enough to gaze upon an ancient enchantment of the great wyrms...."
His eyes begin to glaze for the briefest moment before he clears his throat and shakes his head slightly.
"My apologies," he says. "I got carried away. Now where was I? Oh, your request. Yes, I could do that for you, but in truth it would take a long time. You see, curses have a way of wending themselves into that which is cursed, making it sometimes difficult to tell one from the other. As I am unfamiliar with you in your...ahem...natural state, and I am only one man, it will not be an easy process. But...if you want me to attempt it, I would ask you to return to Spellgard with me. Yet, if you want the best chance for success, go to Castle Imjam. Request a meeting with the Risen. They can help you."
*Argos may recieve the note on Haven by raven or falcon, upon reading the notes he frowns a bit upon the news, *
Well, there is that, Now I wonder if they will head over here on their way back.
*He pens the reply to the very same falconry office where it was emited, then he resumes his search upon the investigation he was persued , awaiting for reply *
Alandrin remains silent for a time after he stops speaking, watching zombie-Tyrian and waiting for any sort of response.
"It is a lot," he says in a few moments with a bit of a nod. "The path is yours to choose, but if it were me, I would be making my way to Imjam."
"Ser can you tell me what to expect as far as removing the curse? What sort of trials and tribulations I will have to endure? And... the chance of its success? And... what if it does not work? What then?"
She looks to Dev, "And what do you think Dev? This effects you as well... What are your thoughts?"
*she waits patiently for an answer*
"Well..." Alandrin begins, leaning back slightly and seeming to regard Tyrian-zombie with some contemplation. "every curse is different, and I do say, yours is quite severe...perhaps due to the circumstances under which it was contracted. But, in my estimation, I would say you would be the subject of an unbinding ritual, likely with several mages in attendance of you. Of course they would take every precaution, though I expect the process will not be pleasant or brief, judging by what I have seen. There will most likely be an abundance of discomfort and likely pain. Yet, it is also possible you will be able to aid their efforts. Indeed, one's own efforts to resist a curse, with will and Magic, can make the removal...less difficult. And if, by chance, they already know something about this particular curse, which I believe is likely, that will certainly help in all aspects."
His attention turns now to Deverain with the same regard. "As for you, sir...I believe the process will be similar. Perhaps easier in some ways, as your curse is not as severe, yet more difficult in others. Still, I think you will have an easier time of it overall."
"For you both, I suspect there will be a time of recuperation and rest...a week, perhaps...more if things are more difficult than I would expect. As I said before, you are fortunate this curse is solely arcane in nature. Once fully removed, there should be no lingering after-effects. At least nothing significant."
*In the mean time ... Argos has been looking around in Haven , for some causes, yet his discoveries has not reached to the conclussions he needed, he seems interested in the flood upon the gnoll mines, and the "special" people that are lurking around the town , he looks around the town to keep gathering information upon the identities of this people*
.... I wonder if this is no red herring. *With that he continues searching the town*
Alandrin claps his hands down onto his legs and stands. "Very well," he says. "I shall send a message that they may anticipate your arrival. You need only present yourselves to Castle Imjam and request a meeting with the Risen. I can suggest no other preparations except...perhaps...some sort of concealment for your travels."
With that, he bows slightly and turns to return to Spellgard.
*Deverain nods* we better get travelin' then
As Devarien exits the temple he sees Mangas arguing with the broker nearby.
"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Er know's yew want more Iron ore bit Erm tell'n yew dat cave in Haven is flooded an' Er can't git in dere! All Er got is diss licorice root! Yew want it er not?" He and the pawnbroker bicker back-and-forth over the price and then settle on a deal that seems very disappointing to Mangus.
"Belive me when Er tell you, if Er could do something about those flooded caves I would! Sheesh!" As he is walking away from the pawnbroker he notices Deverian. "Dev! Erm yew don' look so good. Yew ok? Yew need Er hand?..."
Author
Topic: A visit to the Toranite Temple (Read 2744 times)
