III - Call of the Council

The Lore of a Loremaster

Topic/Postby Liandrix » 14 Sep 2013, 22:42

Before Liandrix got a chance to open his eyes he breathed in a mouth and nose full of ash and convulsed into aggressive hacks and coughs. Beneath his hands he felt heat rising from the surface he sat on, he could feel it through his robe. A warm wind was blowing in his face. Carefully he opened an eye and then the other, but kept squinting for the ash in the air made his eyes prick as if he hadn’t blinked in an hour.

Around him, as far as Liandrix could see, endless fields and hills of ash and sand stretched out to form a desolate, dark, and orange place, as if they had found themselves amidst the coals of a fire almost extinguished. There was no end to the horizon. The hills continued on and on until they gradually merged with an orange sky that seemed aflame, though there was no sun present as far as he could see. Clouds consisted not of white patches but of storms of fire that raged above their heads. It made for a fearful sight, but the storms seemed to be high above them at least.

Liandrix moved his fingers over the surface of ash and sand. They seemed to have gone to an entirely different world. His first thought was another illusion, but this was different. He could no longer feel any connection to Dalaran.

Kel’thuzad was the first one on his feet, and the Archmages followed suit. Only Liandrix stayed where he was for the time being while Kel’thuzad looked around wildly. Liandrix wondered if he was trying to find out where he was, or where Zul’jin had gone.

The two Archmages stood aside one another like sentinels. David had dispatched his staff again somehow while Antonidas had one hand firmly wrapped around a staff he had planted into the dark soil. His other hand caressed his long greying beard. Finally Liandrix rose from the hot ash and approached the two elderly mages.

“What sort of place is this?” Antonidas asked, somewhat to himself, but it was David who answered.

“This place … this world, it is incomplete.”

Antonidas nodded slowly as he stared into the distance. “Something is amiss. Not all the laws that govern our world exist in this plane.”

“We were not transported to this world. Rather, the world was formed around us. What is the source then, I wonder …”

“What’s that over there?” Liandrix pointed to a dark heap some distance removed from the group. He could see it past the two mages, and as soon as he pointed it out Kel’thuzad sprinted past him.

“Is that … ?”

It was. Lying on the glowing floor with his arms at his side and his eyes closed and his tusks jutting upwards was Zul’jin. He seemed to be either sleeping or dead. Kel’thuzad rushed past the two Archmages and looked at the distant form of the Troll.

Antonidas suddenly turned towards the Grand Magus. “Do you feel that?”

David nodded. “Yes I— wait!”

With a roar of fury Kel’thuzad struck out with both hands and a purple bolt shot towards Zul’jin’s unmoving form. It created a tidal wave of ash as it sped towards its goal. With lightning reflexes Antonidas ripped his staff out of the ground and in the same movement conjured a shield out of mid-air that deflected the attack, shattering the bolt into a million miniscule pieces that joined the debris on the ground.

Both Archmages advanced to the lifeless body of the Troll, Antonidas with his staff in hand. But Kel’thuzad seemed to have grasped their meaning, or at least lost the will to lash out once more for he was now running his hands over Zul’jin’s contour letting them hover just an inch over his skin.

“Can you feel it?” Liandrix heard David say as he appeared over Kel’thuzad’s shoulder.

The mage nodded. “He is connected, to all of this … this place.”

Then Liandrix felt it as well. The binding he perceived felt not unlike any other binding between an element and the Arcane, except this binding wasn’t mutual, that is to say, flowing in both directions, from and to the host. The energy of this place was simply flowing out of Troll. Liandrix reasoned that the source of this energy had to be the same source that had been feeding the static shield before. Yet now, somehow, that source seemed to be Zul’jin himself.

“It’s the stave,” Antonidas said calmly as he observed Zul’jin’s dreamlike state. “That staff of his is the cause of all of this. I saw it too late.”

Liandrix hadn’t seen it at all. Antonidas turned to look at him.

“You said he wasn’t a Witch Doctor, that he was a warrior. You were right. He said he had been given the secret of the spirit magic. It was the staff that he had been given, probably by another Troll, and he simply used it. And now …”

“It is using him,” David finished. “You are right. The staff must somehow hold power that we could not counter. It’s the reason for all these illusions, the reason he could draw Arcane energy from the Root, the reason he—“

Zul’jin stirred, and they all fell silent. Liandrix got to his feet at last, looking closely at the Troll. He then realised he hadn’t moved at all, it was the air that was shimmering above him, as if he were burning up. The three mages approached Zul’jin at the same time Kel’Thuzad backed away, looking uncertain.

The shimmer seemed to reach a pitch and a shape formed in its place. Liandrix felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as Zul’jins form appeared above its dormant twin. Its eyes were open and malicious; its lips were pulled back into a victorious smirk.

The party of four formed a crescent in front of the shade and Liandrix asked himself a question he had asked himself a dozen times that day.

Arcane? Troll magic? Illusion?

A hiss escaped the lips of the wavering form as it looked at the four mages. “Welcome to da world of da fire spirit humáns. It be here that I witness your death.”

David Spellsword took a step forward. Void of a staff he folded his arms behind his back in an apparent open and friendly gesture.

“Forgive me … Zul’jin, but it seems you have that reversed. Only, your … condition begs the opposite.” With that he gestured with a nod at the solid and profoundly lifeless form of the Troll warrior.

His eyes narrowed at the same time as the fiery sky above them gave a mighty lurch. The golden and orange clouds that seemed locked into an eternal struggle were tossed across the blazing canopy as if they were seconds from forming a burning hurricane. David Spellsword gave them a momentary glance before settling his gaze back on Zul’jin. The Troll smiled a crooked smile.

“Fool, my spirit be eternal and beyond da realms of da gods!”

Liandrix felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck that rapidly spread across his body and made goose bumps erupt all over his skin. Shaking off the feeling he glanced around to see if the others had felt the same, but their eyes were fixed on Zul’jin. All except one. Archmage Antonidas was looking straight at Liandrix out of the corner of an eye. When that eye met those of Liandrix his ears suddenly picked up the slightest of winds which seemed to carry the whisper of a word, but less: the ghost of a whisper.

‘Stall’

The prickly feeling abated and Liandrix suddenly realised that what he had felt had been an Arcane binding so thin he was hardly convinced it had existed at all. He had been so immerged with Troll magic that he had completely missed the familiar magic of pure Arcane.

Liandrix’ mind raced. Did Antonidas wanted him to stall the Troll? Why? But of course he knew. He had followed the sky above when Zul’jin reacted to the question of the Grand Magus. David was testing him, trying to find a weak spot, an exit out of this place. He simply needed more time.

Liandrix stepped forward just as David stepped back. The whole process of communicating with Antonidas in that manner had taken but seconds. Now that it was over Liandrix could clearly feel the subtle Arcane flows moving back and forth. Both Antonidas and David were prodding and poking their way around the field and Zul’jin. He did not seem to notice, or if he did he did not show it.

“I don’t understand, Zul’jin,” Liandrix spoke slowly and deliberately, making sure he had the Troll’s attention.

“How could a warrior command such power? I thought only Witch Doctors could talk to the gods and commune with the spirits.”

By the manner of which Zul’jin grinned at him he knew he had used the proper deference.

“Dat be true, humán,” the Troll drawled in its thick accent. “I be granted da great …” Zul’jin seemed to struggle with a word, “… honour of wielding Zakala’s staff of da Seven Spirits.”

And much like David was wont to do, Zul’jin seemed to grab the staff in question out of another world. The crooked skull-adorned staff appeared as see-through as the image of the Troll itself, and judging by the lack of energy surrounding it, just as non-existent.

“Da war between da Amani tribe and da elves be long past. We be scattered now, chased away from our homelands and driven off like frightened animals; dem elders call it peace.” Zul’jin spat and the burning soil hissed in return. “While dem elves and you humáns fed of our lands my tribe starved, but da elders did not care. Dey believed we would prosper soon. Dat da spirits had foretold it so. But dat be years ago, and nothing be changed today.

“But den Zakala comes. She be more dan a Witch Doctor. She be talking to spirits and gods alike. She be speaking many tongues. She travelled from tribe to tribe, bringing word dat da gods be on da warpath and dat dem gods were looking for a champion, one to unite all da tribes and lead dem to war to reclaim our ancestry.

“Dem elders be saying no. Dey say dat we must remain divided. Dat we must live in our separate tribes. But Zakala comes to us and shows us visions of da plans of da gods. Dey be showing us how to defeat your magic. But dem elders did not approve of her meddling with da tribes. Dey held a moot where dey decided that she must disappear. Zakala heard of da moot from da spirits and told our tribe of dem plans and asked us to help da spirits.

“My chance be here. I offered my spear and said I would bring her da heads of da elders. Zakala accepted and showed me where da spirits told her where da elders would gather. In the night I followed da path she had drawn to a remote sanctuary. All seven elders be der. I knew den dat she be a true speaker of spirits.”

Liandrix looked again at the staff Zul;jin was holding and silently counted seven small skulls dangling from the tip. He felt a chill run down his back.

“When I returned with dem heads Zakala named me da champion of da gods. She bound da spirits of dem elders to da staff and showed me its power. She taught me many things den: da tongue you speak, what magic you use and how to fight it, da lay of da land.”

“She knew all of this?” Liandrix asked without thinking.

“Jah. Dem spirits guided her … and me. Da spirits did not just told me what to do, dey showed me how I would come here; which roads to choose, which paths to pick. Dey showed me how I would draw you out and steal your magic and use it against you. Dey showed me being here and use your own power against you. Dey showed me how da Amani would rule da lands.”

Kel’thuzad suddenly snorted. “I’ll bet you they didn’t show you how you’d be lying here, dead!”

Liandrix felt a sudden urge to strangle the Archmage. He had been caught up in Zul’jins story completely. Perhaps it was his love of lore, but he wanted to hear it all.

Zul’jin turned his dark eyes on Kel’thuzad. “Very well den. You will see what I have seen, mage. And you will see it now!”

The apparition of Zul’jin turned its back on them and cast its staff into the sky.

“Jan’alai! Let loose your flames!”

There was a rumble like distant thunder and in the burning sky the churning flames opened like the sun breaking through the clouds. And out of the momentary stillness flew a form, a creature Liandrix had seen only in sketches. The Quel’dorei referred to it as ‘Dan’dracon’, a dragonhawk. But what Liandrix had learned of the dragonhawks in Quel’Danas indicated that this monstrous being had the size of dozens such dragonhawks together. And unlike Zul’jin, whose hoarse voice was shouting Troll words at the god, it appeared to be completely solid. It struck the sky with wings of a dozen flames, each longer than a tree. When its tail swooped down towards the ground, a giant whip of molten gold, the sky seemed to crack open. Having such a monstrous being descend upon you with talons like the jaws of a saber-toothed tiger was a frightening sight.

Liandrix stood frozen, gazing at the oncoming threat, until a wind from aside almost buffeted him off his feet. Liandrix thought the movent of the dragonhawk’s wings created winds of gale-like proportions, until a bright purple substance he could only describe as liquid glass crept between the group of mages and Jan’alai.

Alle three Archmages were casting a protective shield cooperatively. David Spellsword and Antonidas had their staffs out and Kel’thuzad stood amidst them with both hands pointed at the shields centre, his fingers in strange angles. When the ends of the shield connected, forming an immense dome around the party the winds abated, but instead of the Arcane energies disappearing with them they ripped at Liandrix’ mind. It was an incredibly uncomfortable experience. One could compare it with a tent being buffeted by a powerful wind and the storm lines being pulled taut, except now those lines were attached to one’s consciousness.

The burning world around them was rendered to a violet storm of silence. Zul’jins form had quieted down as well; they all watched with bated breath as Jan’alai crashed down onto the field of embers, sending up a wall of dust. The collision caused the earth to ripple outward and sent the mages staggering.

Liandrix wondered why the dragonhawk had chosen to land in front of the shield rather than attempt to smash through it, but before the dust had cleared and Liandrix could ponder upon it further the creature’s wings swept through the debris and wrapped themselves firmly around the shield. Liandrix quickly rose to his feet. The shield showed no outward signs of breaking but he cast a net of Arcane energy of his own to fortify it. He felt how the web of Arcane currents of the different mages connected and crossed. They formed a constant recurring flow of energy. This form of casting Arcane magic was time consuming but highly necessary for a spell of this magnitude. Conjuring such a shield would normally render the casters exhausted within moments. As it was, they had limited time to think of something to get out of this situation.

Where the giant columns of flames that made up the dragonhawk's wings connected with the shield the air shimmered and violet sparks flew off the shield to rain down on the four of them. Liandrix gritted his teeth out of sheer pressure caused by his focus on the upkeep of the shield. Judging by the other faces none of them were able to form a proper offensive spell. No magical battle was ever won defensively. But what were they to do? All the lore in his long years of studying had not taught him to battle a god. The burning wings wrapped firmly around the shield meant that attacking through their own shield would be a great risk. They weren’t protected, they were trapped.

“Antonidas …”

David Spellsword was holding his ornamental staff with both hands and even from this distance Liandrix could tell his palms were sweaty and his hands were shaking. The huge violet crystal on top of the staff cast a fierce white light that was reflected by the streams of sweat that were running down his temples.

“Antonidas, can you cast a tri-dimensional translocation?”

Archmage Antonidas seemed to have great trouble holding his own red crystal-tipped staff aloft. He cast a troubled look over his shoulder.

“I thought you were attempting a quantum-dimensional rift!”

“I was.” David’s eyes flashed back and forth between Antonidas and the shield. It was the first time the Grand Magus looked anxious, and the sight caused Liandrix’ courage to drop a little further down his boots. Zul’jin meanwhile was moving back and forth, marching between the mages, looking hungrily at their struggle.

Antonidas gave David an apologetic look. “I can’t, David. This world’s geomagnetic field is completely unfamiliar. There are no poles to navigate on and its useless to project an energy flow through an Arcane shield when the energy fields behind it are stationary. Can’t you open a rift back using the reversed energy source?”

David took a moment to answer. “I can open it …”

Everyone turned their heads to look at the Grand Magus. They had all heard the unspoken end of that sentence; ‘…but.’

“You can’t keep it open?” Antonidas asked.

“It’s the same problem we’re facing with translocation. Channelling a force through a stationary field requires a constant feed.”

Liandrix understood the implications. Trying to accomplish a translocation in that way would be like keeping a trap open and grabbing the bait with the same hand.

“So that’s not an option either,” Antonidas said with finality.

“It is an option,” David said firmly, “the only one we have.”

“You’re saying someone must stay behind?” Kel’thuzad said suddenly. He had his dark eyes on the Grand Magus, and Liandrix thought he saw a hungry look in them.

“There are other possibilities,” Antonidas began, but David cut him short with a sharp hand gesture.

“You know the situation, Antonidas, and you know our duty. We cannot risk the rift becoming a connection. This creature, this world must stay here!”

“Then let it be me!” Kel’thuzad hissed. “Let me stay here and take care of this creature!”

“No! Zul’jin must remain in this realm. He or his creations must never be allowed access to our world.”

“He killed Cecilia!” Kel’thuzad roared. “He slew her like an animal!”

There was a thunder strike overhead and the shield was marked by a crimson tear that stretched from one end to the other. The fierce storm-like wind that suddenly raged through the protected dome drowned out every other sound. The giant dragonhawk wasted no time and plunged its beak into the crevice. Biting cold shot through Liandrix’ spine, and from the corner of his eyes he saw the others react under the heightened pressure. The shield was beginning to demand its toll. Overhead Jan’alai was trying to push its beak deeper into the gap while the mages below tried to lace the tear back up as if stitching a wound.

“Let me conjure the rift!” Kel’thuzad shouted through the mayhem. “I will make that Troll regret its very birth!”

There was no mistaking the wild look in the eyes of Archmage Kel’thuzad this time. There was a glint in there that Liandrix found strange in dark eyes such as those. It made them seem cold and vicious.

“It does not need to come to this, David,” Antonidas continued. “Dalaran needs you!”

“This is not open for discussion! Archmages, you know your duties. You know the stakes, and you know what is expected of you. You know your responsibilities!

Liandrix couldn’t be sure but he thought that the David’s gaze had included him. It was only now beginning to dawn on him that Grand Magus David Spellsword was planning on sacrificing himself for them. David Spellsword, who had lived with him as Wald, who had taught him the definition of magic, who had revealed the truth about his past.

There was a loud crack overhead like two pieces of metal colliding and Jan’alai’s beak sank a few feet. More tears started appearing and cast purple lines on the ground. The flame columns of its wings were starting to burn through the sides of the shield.

Then, with an almighty yank David pulled his staff out of position and cast it at the rest. “NOW! GATHER!”

Liandrix flung himself towards Antonidas as if the Archmage had summoned him. He too had abandoned the shield which remained intact for now. Kel’thuzad didn’t move. He had his eyes on Zul’jin who in turn was leering at the Archmage as if challenging him to attack. Liandrix didn’t want to imagine what would happen to them if Zul’jin was killed.

Then Kel’thuzad started for the Troll’s lifeless form; the one that lay unconscious at the feet of its apparition. Out of the corner of his eyes Liandrix saw Antonidas gave his staff a swing as he shouted Kel’thuzad’s name. Liandrix felt a yank on the scruff of his robe and was pulled closer towards Antonidas. He made the same gesture towards Kel’thuzad but at that moment the shield vanished, having been abandoned by all four mages.

Jan’alai crashed down around them, its burning wings forming a wall of scorching flames. Its beak plunged into the soil and cut off both Antonidas’ spell and Kel’thuzad’s advance. Liandrix felt his skin smoulder as the temperature exploded upwards. Each breath burned in his lungs and filled them more with the dust that floated in the air around them. His breaths became shorter by the second and he could feel a panic building up inside him.

Jan’alai rose from its position, pulling its beak out of the ground. Liandrix caught a glimpse of David. There was a bright white glow around him that expanded for several feet. He was standing on a spell drawn into the burning sand. With his staff held in both hands he stood as still as a statue. He looked ready to cast the rift and send them back, but he seemed to be waiting for something.

Then Liandrix spotted Kel’thuzad. He was getting to his feet to continue his advance just as the god-like dragonhawk turned to the Grand Magus, mercifully raising its wings to allow the heat to abate slightly. Kel’thuzad clawed his way to the Troll as debris fell down around him, his features distorted with hate and his hands glowing a dark purple colour.

Zul’jin’s ghost form meanwhile was shouting in his own language at the massive creature as it reared on its burning tail. From what Liandrix knew of the Troll tongue Zul’jin was shouting for the dragonhawk to crush the Grand Magus. Liandrix felt he should intervene in the situation but he was torn between the Grand Magus standing coolly in front of Jan’alai as it descended and Kel’thuzad as he raised his hands to fire his spell at Zul’jin’s lifeless form. Then a cold wind suddenly caught the back of his neck that exploded into a storm. The floating dust and falling debris were replaced by a roar of icy winds.

Liandrix turned to see Archmage Antonidas standing at the heart of the storm, his red and purple robe whipping violently in the wind. The red ruby on the tip of his staff had turned an icy blue and the power radiating from it raised goose bumps on his skin. Including the spell work Zul’jin had woven into the Arcane Root this was the most powerful spell Liandrix had ever witnessed. Antonidas was throwing all he had at Jan’alai, who was still balancing on its tail. The storm, though cold it was, was not enough to douse its flames.

Kel’thuzad emitted a triumphant shout as he reached Zul’jin, throwing himself through the apparition to get to the real one on the ground. Liandrix looked back at Antonidas for aid just in time to throw up an Arcane shield for himself. But even with the shield the shockwave that originated from the Archmage threw Liandrix flat on the ground. The whole ground shook as the force behind the wind tripled and continued to grow until Liandrix was sure he would be blown from the ground altogether. Then with an icy realisation Liandrix saw that it wasn’t the blizzard that was blowing Liandrix back; it was pure Arcane energy, radiating from Antonidas. The energy was of such proportions that it was creating and feeding its own static shield which formed a visible orb around the Archmage. The whole concept of such power coming from one mage was unreal.

Antonidas suddenly plunged his staff into the ground and all around him the burning soil froze solid, the effect spreading outward until everyone found themselves on a frozen waste. Liandrix felt cold radiating from below where at first he had felt heat. The effect was closely followed by another shockwave that shattered the frozen ground. Great rents raced outward, creating great jags of ice that jutted out of the earth.

Kel’thuzad’s process had come to a halt right before Zul’jin’s unconscious body. Jan’alai seemed thrown off balance at first but managed to stay upright.

With a mighty crack that reverberated through the entire frozen plane Antonidas pulled his staff out of the ground and raised it high above his head and the whole place seemed to follow suit. There was a great rumble and more cracks and rents along the surface connected and gigantic pieces of frozen earth followed the movement of his staff, shooting into the air as if they weighed nothing.

All around Liandrix the ice flew up and he wondered in panic when he himself would be next. When he dared look up he saw jagged pieces of ice breaking against the fiery flank of the dragonhawk. The force of the attack was too great for the creature to withstand and it retreated slightly from David.

Pieces big enough to cave skulls rained among the four mages; around Antonidas who looked simply terrifying, surrounded by his orb; around David who stood impassive, but was obviously focussing hard on his own conjuring; around Kel’thuzad who was crawling on all fours, trying desperately to reach Zul’jin; and around Liandrix who expected to die at any second. He felt weary beyond explanation. Even his panic could no longer make him move.

There was a great screech as the dragonhawk crawled upright and seconds later Antonidas’ voice thundered across the field.

“Now, David!”

In answer, a beam of bright light shot out of the white crystal of David’s staff, momentarily illuminating his ancient, lined face. The beam shot straight towards Zul’jin and when it hit the still body it split into three ways; one beam for each of the three mages.

When the beam connected with Liandrix the world vanished. The icy earth beneath him disappeared and the burning sky turned black as night. Liandrix had one last fleeting look of the Archmages; of Kel’thuzad as he made a lunge toward Zul’jin’s body, his eyes filled with uncharacteristic hate; of Antonidas as his powerful image slowly turned back to normal. But not before it was planted firmly into Liandrix’ mind; and of David Spellsword, who was bathed with light as he looked their way.

It could have been his imagination, but Liandrix rather thought he could see a smile on the old man’s face, before he too fell away in a sudden tidal wave of smoke ash and fire.

*
"The motivation to study the Arcane should be born out of the understanding of the needs of those who would be affected by it.."

~ Loremaster Liandrix Emmot
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