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Post by Shifter on Feb 9, 2015 22:26:06 GMT
Shifter knew he wouldn't like the answer, at all...
"I couldn't even guess, your majesty."
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Post by The Iron King on Feb 9, 2015 22:38:24 GMT
"Utilitarianism." he replied, dark crevasses where his eyes would be bearing down on the Aetherian. "In simplest terms, the end result of a matter can justify the means undertaken to accomplish it. Do you understand?"
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Post by Shifter on Feb 9, 2015 22:42:10 GMT
"I do, your majesty." Shifter swallowed dry, there was only one thing he feared, and that was his master's wrath. "This failure will not be repeated."
He looked up now.
"I... A ring... I salvaged from the abandoned city. It's in the girls pocket." He approached the body and got the ring on his hands. "It may not be much, but it's something."
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Post by The Iron King on Feb 9, 2015 22:53:29 GMT
"I do not think you understand the gravity of your failure." he said, mentally pulling the ring from Shifter's fingers, allowing it to tumble slowly through the air before it came to rest in his outstretched metallic hand. He inspected the trinket as he continued speaking. "What means you undertook led to a great loss which I must now rectify. Therefore the actions were not justified and must be punished. Take a human form...one with an overabundance of nerve endings."
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Post by Shifter on Feb 9, 2015 22:56:53 GMT
Shifter knew better than to refuse... And so he did take a human form, with an overabundance of nerve endings.
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Post by The Storyteller on Feb 9, 2015 23:12:37 GMT
The Iron King INT: 28
Alastor already knew the steel ring to be enchanted, as he could feel the buzzing in his mind intensify, like a horde of angry wasps. Unlike Shifter though, the Iron King recognized that the script inside the ring was not magical runes, but the old Imperial Tongue, once taught to every child in Camlann and beyond.
It read, 'Hiram Starkweather, Magister Evocatus, C.O.M.'
The name itself is familiar, but the identity escapes the Iron King's memory for the moment. Obviously, he was some Old World enchanter, though no Undying still carries that name. Still, it was likely not a mystery that would survive a few hours in the castle library.
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Post by The Iron King on Feb 10, 2015 1:59:50 GMT
Turning his attention to the task at hand, The Iron King lifted a hand and the Aetherian rose a few feet from the ground. With a swirl of his finger he began to flay skin from bone in slow spirals from head to toes, as one peels the skin from an apple. It had been a common exercise during Shifter's training, testing the Aetherian to regrow the torn flesh before the excruciating pain and loss of blood killed him. In the same utilitarian reasoning, the torture had made the shapeshifter stronger than he would have been without it.
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Post by Shifter on Feb 10, 2015 13:39:44 GMT
It hurt, a lot, it was undeniable.... But Shifter was already used to it, he knew this would make him stronger, his Majesty did these things for his best. Three centuries he had spent suffering the King's abuses this was just another day, his flesh was already growing back and he was sure that would pain him much less than any other aetherian he knew.
In fact, it was more of a show, a theatrical piece to show the rest of the court what would happen in case they failed, or proved themselves useless. So, playing his part, he screamed, loudly. His vocal chords desparate in pain changed their shapes and made his suffering echo in thousands of different voices.
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Post by The Iron King on Feb 10, 2015 19:18:56 GMT
When the Iron King grew tired of the spectacle, he released his hold on the Aetherian, sending the man crashing floor in a puddle of his own blood.
"After I have corrected what damage you have done, Jacob will assume your collection duties amongst the Nightleaf clan. You can clearly not be trusted with such a post. You will take up his duties with the Stormreapers. As for now, you head West with your brothers to investigate new arrivals to my lands, under Jacob's command." he commanded, knowing the slight of elevating another Aetherian above him would likely sting far worse than the flaying previous. After all, a dog sought only to please its master.
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Post by Shifter on Feb 10, 2015 21:48:57 GMT
Shifter twisted and turned on te puddle of blood, his flesh growing back to the bone. When he heard the King's command his eyes dashed to Jacob, if his majesty wanted to hurt him that was right on the spot.
His majesty had ordered, and he would obey, there was no doubt in that. But he'd complete that task so perfectly that even the Iron King would repent his decision... And Jacob, that fool would learn better than to take his position.
"Y... Y... Yes, you majesty." He tried to say, but it probably just sounded like a wheez.
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Post by The Iron King on Feb 10, 2015 22:59:56 GMT
"You are dismissed then." he replied, stopping only to raise the hulking Aetherian corpse from the dead, salvaging what he could from this disaster. He had the woman wrapped in a cloth. Her people would be found and body returned, but the ring was his more pressing concern for the moment.
Retiring to his library, which dominated an entire wing of his keep, he began his research into this Hiram Starkweather. Though there were corpse attendants to bring him the tomes required, they were hardly necessary. The Iron King knew each of his thousands upon thousands of books, calling the ones he desired to him in a flurry as he sat in one of the finely upholstered chairs.
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Post by The Storyteller on Feb 11, 2015 3:40:53 GMT
The Iron King INT: 49 (Prepare for exposition)
Eventually, he finds a slim book entitled 'The Undying Dream' written by Hiram Starkweather and his colleague Augustus Bonaventure. Both authors are described as fellows of the College of Outer Mysteries, but only Starkweather is listed as a Professor. There is a string of titles after his name that reveal the Emperor Noceris I thought enough of his work to have him elevated to nobility. Of Bonaventure, almost nothing is written except his name. Alastor suspects the name is either an alias or a minor conjurer who did not warrant an elevated station. Starkweather is almost certainly the primary author.
The book is almost entirely theoretical in nature, and utter gibberish to those not properly trained in the arcane sciences. Even then, Alastor can spot several misconceptions that would not be corrected until years after this book was first published. It describes a hypothetical fusion between man and spirit, hypothesizing that if the fae were once of the Aether, then the process is not only possible, but the desired symbiosis of all life. It then flies off into a few experimental methods that have little to nothing to do with the final, perfected ritual. Starkweather presumes too much of the good will of spirits.
The Appendix however, is altogether new and startling. Starkweather suggests that, instead of merely luring the spirits from the Aeether to our reality, the College of Outer Mysteries should support a human expedition into the Aether itself. Some of the details are written in a perplexing short-hand that eludes Alastor's understanding, but he understands the gist of Starkweather's ramblings.
'Life in the Aether is not only possible, but inevitable in the face of fae dominion. Furthermore, we, and others in His Grace's College, hypothesize that there are other world's just as habitable as this one. As we slowly lose more and more land to the Land itself, we will be forced to colonize other realms in time. With the Undying dream and the promise of new homes, humanity can survive the inevitable storm."
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Post by The Iron King on Feb 12, 2015 19:37:52 GMT
The Iron King set aside the tome, taking some time to ponder its contents. It was certainly a matter to consider, though still far too theoretical to know the implications. Immortality had seen him lose all concept of the passing of time. He could have sat there deep in thought for minutes, or hours, or days. One notable boon of unlife was that he had all the time with his books that was required. Time held no power over him anymore.
He looked once more at the ring, before slowly slipping it on his finger, mentally changing the size of the titanium alloy digit to fit it if necessary. He had not come to this current path by fearing to take the occasional risk. Science considered daring as much as it did experimentation and observation.
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Post by The Storyteller on Feb 13, 2015 0:11:22 GMT
Alastor realizes too late the ring already perfectly fits. The library fades away and the Iron Court becomes a distant memory. The Iron King may no longer feel vertigo or the sensation of his heart speeding up, but for the first time in centuries, he remembers what excitement and fear taste like. The transition smells and tastes of heated metal, even without a tongue to taste or nose to smell. Alastor feels nerve endings long gone flaring up in pleasure and pain.
The Iron King INT: 41
When his feet register ground to stand upon, Alastor sees only darkness, but he is clearly still in his custom body. The strange sensations were only an effect of whatever spell sent him here. After a moment, a globe of blue light appears, hovering on top of what is revealed to be a quite large but simple cell. With fifty paces from wall to the next, someone was clearly anticipating something bigger. With a cursory glance, Alastor notes nearly every surface has holding runes carved into them. With each footstep and touch of a wall, the runes flicker with a light Aetherian energy. The old magus quickly recognizes this as a holding chamber for conjured spirits, after being lured to this plane.
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Post by The Iron King on Feb 13, 2015 1:02:41 GMT
He probes his passenger for comment as he removed the ring, his primary concern of course being that he could voluntarily leave this plane.
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