The Demon's Apprentice(open to one F)

[BiSmiley]

The Demon's Apprentice(closed)

There he stood eyes to the morning light raven hair swept back in the wind, a youthful face deceptive to the fact. Thurat was an ancient creature bound to the abyssal tower by his own doing the anchor of to this world, though to the world outside he was a sorcerer without equal a recluse with an invitation to any he felt worthy of learning magic...but even that was a mask to his purpose.

Over the years the tower has become a castle expanding its foundation, now his grounds span acre's of the country side a small community of men and women see to the day to day merely huddling within the safety of the tower's shadow and the lord therein. Many a king had offered their daughters to propose an alliance only to be coldly refused, being a weapon for a mortal monarch was tedious at best.

His castle was a sight of ivory stone cobbled together by the gargoyles adorning its balconies. Helpful tireless workers, eyes forever watching, among other qualities of living stone.

Rumours aplenty drifted across the land none which aired by Thurat himself save for the fact that he was in need of new apprentice. The most common of rumours had caused him nothing but irritation claiming that only males had been accepted as apprentice, when he found women quite capable at times easy to teach and fun to play with, though it was rather entertaining when a girl dressed to fool him it showed a level of dedication and drive, a willingness to go to extremes in order to learn...The thought always brought a smirk to his lips.

(OOC:kept it short a open for brainstorming purposes,to the literate and creative, PM me if you're interested)

 

[thewhiteone]

A loan figure passed through the town gates and cast its gaze toward the castle. The figure was dressed in a common hooded cloak, plain tunic, pants and boots while carrying only a small sack. Nothing seemed remarkable about the figure, aside from the person’s gait. Male commoner clothing with a poorly disguised noble woman’s gait.

She was Jesscara T’ulvat, last of murdered House T’ulvat of the Kingdom of Renat.

Within that castle lay the key to avenging her family and those who died defending them. Thurat was easily one of the most powerful mage outside of elven lands on the continent. He also happened to be looking for an apprentice…and she a master of great power.

Gone were the make-up and the long sharp nails. Her hair no longer was a silky cascade down to her ass. She’s had it cut to the bottom of her shoulders in a men’s long hair style. She wasn’t concerned if people didn’t buy her disguise. What she was concerned about was that she wasn’t recognized, and word getting back to the treacherous vile never sufficiently damned Hulutes!

That and the prevalent rumor that Thurat was only looking for males to fill the role as his apprentice. It was the sort of rumor that arrogant men would circulate to keep the candidate pool smaller…but so far Thurat hadn’t commented on the rumor…which did give it an edge of legitimacy. Then again, Thurat could be using the rumor as a tool himself, the only women who would apply would be the most determined and dedicated ones. Jesscara was betting on the latter, she had to. Her disguise sure as hell wouldn’t fool him, and she knew it.

Using the last of the money she had acquired from the corpses of some brigands who had sought to relieve her of her possessions (gods that had been therapeutic!), she purchased a hearty meal (for commoners, yuck!), some ‘good’ wine (again, for commoners, yuck!), and a big enough tip for the waitress to keep her mouth shut. The idea of tipping commoners was still foreign to her, but if it helped ensure silence so be it.

It would have been nice to get a night’s sleep before going to meet him, but she’d have had to pawn another piece of jewelry for a mere night’s rest. More importantly, it would mean more time for Hulute to track her down. She was not going to be run down while the castle was in sight on the account of some sleep!

Leaving the town, she made her way toward the castle. She was about half way there when a pair of hands seized her from behind.

“Going somewhere Lady Jesscara?” the man inquired with a sneer. He then roughly shoved her up against a nearby tree, causing her to grunt in pain.

DAMN IT!

“Remember me? Oh who am I kidding, like you would bother to remember the face of the chamber boy whom you ran into. Whom you had flogged, beaten and thrown out?”

Him? That little wretch from all those years ago?

“Well I remember you very well…just like I remembered the castle layout very well when I helped Hulute in…”

“YOU BASTARD!” she yelled.

“Such a dirty little mouth. Maybe it should meet my dirty big cock, hmm? I’ve waited seven years for this…seven years to make you m…”

Jesscara activated one of her magical rings, causing an arcane force to hurl the treacherous murderer away from her. He slammed into another tree and screamed as his shoulder dislocated. Turning upon her assailant, she focused her energy, and shot an icicle from her finger. It stabbed into his hip, eliciting another scream of pain.

“That was for touching me,” another icicle stabbed into him and then dissipated, “That for threatening me,” another icicle, “That was for Father, and that for Mother. That for Ereena…”

She continued until she ran out of names (which took a while). Then, she took his valuables, and set the perforated body on fire.

One vermin down, so many to go…

Suddenly, she was feeling much better about today as she picked up the small sack which contained the dress she had been wearing when she fled. The dress she would wear on the day she exacted her vengeance. She resumed her trek towards the castle with a smile on her lips.

 

[BiSmiley]

“Milord my boy is by far the most capable of men,” Thurat sat back in his would throne, the main hall echoing with the voice of some pompous blow hard fronting for a feeble little whelp puffing his chest with pride…It was pathetic. “He is well versed in several focus’ and in the art of enchantment as-” Thurat raised a hand stilling the speaker’s voice by force.

“Does he possess the ability to speak for himself or the bravery to stand before me on his own, perhaps he can dance a jig and entertain the villagers.” Thurat stared them down with cold golden eyes the pale light of day playing across the pale shoulder and deep blue of his wrapped robes. A single servant sent toward the pair “I’m weary of you, leave.” His cold voice carried well in these halls as did the defeated footsteps another pathetic noble’s attempt to win their place with gifts and pretty words, yet what he was sad not to see this day was substance or drive.

As the main gate lifted and shut a chill rolled up his spine, the familiar feeling of death another soul forced from flesh. Lightly bringing a single finger on the armrest of his throne the smooth at the end of the arm glimmering at the touch as he drew slow circles and focused his thoughts. Seeing through the stone eyes of the gargoyles setting them all to search the approach, the smallest of them skittering about the wood between the town and Keep. Smoldering remains the stone eyes peering close to the unrecognizable mass, someone was angry.

He set them to stillness not wanting to play his hand any further watching for the ‘killer’ with interest. A lone figure at a distance and through unfeeling eyes it was just that. He’d watch for the moment with piqued interest masculine dress, feminine walk…interesting indeed.

 

[thewhiteone]

The pleasant memories of his demise entertained her for a bit, before she reminded herself that their may be others in the area who were after her. Unlikely, considering how much time she took enjoying her first taste of vengeance upon those who betrayed her. Any nearby allies would have already arrived…then again; any not nearby allies who were within earshot would likely be on their way.

And they were more likely to simply shoot her and take her head.

On that note, she raised a shielding spell to ward off arrows and such, and then started paying closer attention to her surroundings.

As she continued onward more vigilantly, the castle’s main gate began to open. Did this mean he had noticed her and was opening the gate for her? Had she been dressed like a T’ulvat it would not have come as a complete surprise. A surprise? Yes, given mages of his statue were often not automatically deferential to nobility. A complete surprise? No, given that she was a noble.

Then a carriage began to leave the castle.

Ah, well that answers that. Someone happened to be leaving…or a prospect just got rejected. Either one was not good for her…cause in about a 3 minute ride by her estimate they would come across a recently deceased, mutilated, and torched body…in the direction she was coming from.

Shit.

I really should have thought about this sooner, she thought to herself. Someone might thing it was someone who irked Thurat and got toasted…or that someone offed a rival. Trying to pass of the blame on Thurat could end all discussion of it…or cause as much perhaps even more trouble that it would avoid. I could try and double back, hoping they haven’t noticed me…but then what?

Pausing to ‘gaze’ at the castle, she debated her available options.

A few moments later, she had her course of action…

She continued her approach to the castle, and resumed her scanning for threats.

After a few minutes, the carriage was upon her, when a voice inside called for the carriage to stop. Jesscara kept walking, feeling their eyes on her for several moments until that voice then addressed her.

“You there! Woman what makes you think you can fool the mighty Thurat with that…that pathetic attempt of being a man! What makes you think a low born wretch li…”

“I don’t expect this disguise to fool anyone!” she snapped, anger coursed through her as he referred to her as one of the lowbloods, “I expect it to make me not look like me and that is all it has to do!”

“You dare interrupt ME! I’ll…”

“Gosdan. Shut. Your. Mouth,” her words were icily precise, “Yes I know you, and your boy too, and you now me. Knew me,” she began to walk back towards the carriage, “Knew me when you attended my sister’s wedding. Knew me when life was good. Knew me when my family still breathed. Knew us before our backs sprouted knives and our blood flooded our ancestral keep!”

She was now upon the shocked and horrified pair, pointing at Lord Gosdan, “You want to avoid becoming like me!” she shrieked with rage, as she indicated her common clothing, “Start backing up your bluster with substance! A bark only works as long as someone is afraid of your teeth!”

Turning on his son, “Devin, you want to avoid this? Grow a spine already! What do you think would happen to you if your father were to die tomorrow? Hmm? Would you be strong enough, would you’re will be strong enough to make other’s take you seriously?”

“And both of you remember this: As strong as House T’ulvat was, all it took was a knife in the back from a trusted ally to bring us low. Consider your friends and allies closely, consider them closely and often.”

"Oh, and don't mind the murderer up a head. He's been dealt with."

And with that she turned and stormed off toward the castle, her good mood ruined by the presence of those two worthless sacks of meat. She really shouldn’t have spoken at all, should have just kept walking, but damn she needed to vent that!

As she walked, she returned her focus to her surroundings and began sticking her anger back in its bottle. She was bottling up her anger, saving it for later. Saving it to focus her during her studies. Saving it for the day when all those treacherous murderers felt it and wished they’d taken the place of the one she slew today.

 

[BiSmiley]

The gargoyle watched the road the lone figure becoming clear as they moved up the path and the failure and father passing through the gate the would be boarder of Idlin Keep and his domain for the time being. The altercation was quite revealing the new applicant…or visitor was actually a she and a very passionate one putting it politely Thurat smiling to himself as he witnessed the moment taking in what his stone servants could hear and see.

She was honest in her rebuttal and forceful in her words unafraid and by her look she didn’t care to impress with mere image, either that or simple disguise either way it was refreshing. Those factors alone and the dead man the gargoyles were currently dealing with was enough to warrant a closer look.

All applicants that fell under his gaze were judge quickly and harshly Thurat was patient though the father and son failed to incite his curiosity before they passed through the gates that alone gained his ire, though the boy would prove easy to manipulate down the road should he ever have need to meddle in mortal politics.

Her story and the fire in her icy words to them spoke volumes of her intentions and revenge was always a good motivator. The moment he heard the name T’ulvat his grin grew to a show of teeth, the family name was one he was familiar with he’d dealt with them in the past though he couldn’t quite remember the individual which spike his interest but two hundred years has a way of fading one’s memories.

The raven haired man stood from his seat in the audience hall the gargoyles set to the task of clearing the corpse from the road, mustn't have something rotting there it was unsightly and it would keep the wolves occupied for a time. He whispered a chant to himself in steady rhythm as he went tossing aside the robe as shadow swirled about his frame warping his outward image as he went. Time seemed to reverse as he stepped forward until a young boy took the sorcerers place the shadow weaving together in a servants clothes the dark hair and golden eyes still that of Thurat but few would be the wiser.

It wasn’t long until he went out to the courtyard using a side entrance walking lightly with a child like grace as he rounded the front of the castle and moving to the open gate, waving to the woman innocently waiting for her to close the distance “Hi! You here to meet the master…sir?” feigning ignorance for the time seeing what she’d say.

 

[thewhiteone]

She really shouldn’t have yelled at them. Now it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew where she was, and Hulute did as well. When she secured her apprenticeship (she had even less of a choice now) she’d have to be even more vigilant than ever. Every Hulute assassin, every bounty hunter out to collect the price that would be placed on her head (if there wasn’t one already) would know exactly were to look.

The question then was…how much protection would Thurat’s name give her? It should keep all the two-copper wannabes off her, as well as a fair number of skilled and elite ones. Some however, would consider it a challenge.

And only one had to try and succeed.

She pushed all that aside. She was coming up to the entrance. The gate opened once more, this time definitely for her.

A small boy cheerfully greeted her, apparently actually buying her disguise.

Well, I guess there had to be one person on the planet who it could fool, she thought to herself as she lowered the hood of the cloak.

“Lady Jesscara T'ulvat,” she corrected, “And yes I am here to meet the archmage as a candidate to become his apprentice,” her voice was clearly female, foreign, and noble.

 

[BiSmiley]

The boy cocked his head to the side and looked her up and down “Well I spose, pleased to meet you Lady Jesscara.” he closed the distance between them and took her hand and shook it in greeting, only to close his grip on the hand and pull her along though struggling to do so “The master’s a little busy at the moment, I think the loud one made him angry.” The boy shrugged looking up at Jesscara with golden eyes.

“There have been a lot of them lately, I guess that’s why the master started hiring servants from town again.” The boy still tugging her along as best he could “You’re prettier than the others,” He quipped as they headed to the thick garden off the main path “I see why he wants to test you.” The boy rambled on as they passed into the maze like garden twisted vines and strange yet beautiful flowers in every direction “Don’t touch the plants.”

Thurat was interested to see how she reacted to this boy’s over energetic nature, the hints and questions galore “So why did you come?”

 

[thewhiteone]

Surprise ran through her as the boy suddenly shook her hand and started to pull her along. That a servant should touch a guest, let alone a noblewoman in such a manner!

It was most improper!

Her mind was just leaving shock when the boy spoke up again, and looked at her. There was something about those eyes…something about golden eyes…it was like an itch in the back of her brain that she couldn’t scratch.

“Yes, Baron Gosdan can be tiring on one’s patience,” she agreed without going in depth. She followed him at her own pace, allowing him to guide her, but not have her go tearing around the castle at break neck speed.

She had enough blisters on her feet as it was from all the walking she’d done. She’d probably walked more since fleeing home, than she had in the previous three months combined.

So, Thurat’s hiring servants to deal with the influx of applicants? That seemed odd. Why would an archmage of his power and prestige not have sufficient servants to begin with? He would have his pick of servants, just like apprentices. He should have nothing but the best, and Jesscara has seen the best servants at work. One could easily have dealt w…

Her train of thought abruptly came to a halt as the boy mentioned her beauty…and most importantly… “he wants to test you”…

She piqued his interest…and the boy knew she had.

That brought a small almost imperceptible smile to her mouth. This might be the simple leaps of deductions children often had, especially commoner children…or the boy might be very much aware of his master’s intentions.

She was so mentally focused, that until the boy had mentioned the plants, she hadn’t really ‘seen’ them, only been vaguely aware of their presence. Now that she noticed them, they were indeed fantastically beautiful…and per the boy’s warning she had no intention of touching them.

His next question she pondered for a moment. Debating how to answer, especially in light of possible, no probable eyes and ears of the master of the tower paying very close attention.

“I am here to learn from the best. I am here to have him hone my skills, to guide me on the path to arcane power. Further details are between me and the master. Unless of course you have been charged with gathering this information for him?” she watched him very closely now.

 

[BiSmiley]

“OH you know those two?” He grinned coyly “Must be nice I don’t get to leave the Keep much but I know all its secrets.” Thurat was wondering at what point to put the play aside but this was quite interesting, any average noble would have attempted to shoo him away or worse truly interesting.

Letting of her hand he stepped up to the back of the garden the high hedge and the stone epitaph at the back, he walked up to the brick surface and pressed three in specific combination. Flinching a little when accused of fishing for information “I’m sorry miss, I don’t get to meet many people, I was just curious.” Making a sheepish apology and maintaining his cover for the time being. The bricks shifted into the shape of a door “you’re lucky not many people get to see this.” Walking through the door without hesitation and out toward the back of the keep the edge of the cliff and the massive stone ring bordering ivory white sand. It looked unassuming but it was Thurat’s favourite tool.

The boy kneeled down outside of the circle, he was going to keep this part a secret but even she could appreciate the intricacy of this thing once she stepped within it. The training ring was fuelled by the mage that stepped inside it providing a foe or many just strong enough to provide challenge, sand golems were wonderfully flexible constructs.

“Step inside the ring.” He gestured innocently, the golem wouldn’t kill her but she’d be unconscious before they would stop…or if she managed it she could shape the sand to her will. It was a very good test for someone that had just killed minutes ago on the road.

 

[thewhiteone]

She doubted the boy knew all the keep’s secrets, though depending on how long he’d been here, he may very well know a lot of them. It was doubtful that anyone but Thurat himself knew all of this place’s secrets.

Carefully taking note of bricks pushed by the boy to reveal the secret entrance, she filed it away for later use and followed him outside.

This place didn’t scream test, no not at all. Huge stone ring, surrounded by sand, on a cliff…nah, no way this could be a test.

And if I believe that, I’ve got a dagger shaped backscratcher here for me, she though to herself, Well I’d best be about it. It would never do to keep Thurat waiting.

Stepping into the ring she looked around, and for a moment nothing happened. Then she fell to her knees as the ring began to draw power from her. She fought it, struggling to keep her power for herself.

She didn’t notice the sand stirring.

 

[BiSmiley]

Thurat sat cross legged at the ring’s edge remembering the first time stepped into it soon after fashioning it. The ring was a new idea using an old demon trap. Witch hunters and others with a penchant for hunting his kind could rarely match a demon’s power, so cunning took the place of strength. Even the strongest demons couldn’t defeat themselves. The circle, when built with murderous intent was an almost perfect trap to the weak minded his kind or any other unlucky enough to stumble into it. Thurat had used it to hone his skills, testing new spells and learning to shape his will quite literally. It was a wonder human mages never used it…or was it simply too dangerous? It would be a shame if he had to step in, but being this close he could sense there was something more to her, maybe she would be the first apprentice to control the sands rather than battle them…in time of course.

“The circle is fueled by you…the master said so,” he said, shrugging as only a child would. A simple shape rose from the white sand and took form in front of Jesscara. Featureless at first, then feminine, mimicking Jesscara’s appearance save for the clothes on her back. Something Thurat hadn’t seen before.

Very interesting.

Most of his apprentices’ sand golems remained featureless, though with varying levels of similarity not ‘identical.’ Then the sand golem became a near perfect copy of Jesscara, though the fact that one was made of sand obviously separated them.

“That’s never happened before,” he said, then giggling “S-she naked!” bursting out laughing, though in earnest he was quite intrigued by this development. That alone further solidified this candidate for the apprenticeship.

Calming himself, he then spoke with a childlike smirk, “You better get your guard up Milady,” knowing it would be seconds before the mimic would attack. It would fight just hard enough to be a challenge to her with pratice the golems number would increase and perhaps at the pinnacle of training she would be able to shape these sands but there were other methods outside the ring to reach the same goal.

 

[thewhiteone]

Fueled by me? No Shit! She thought to herself as she fought to retain the power that was being leeched from her.

The boy’s next out burst drew her attention to the white sand which had taken a female shape…her shape…completely nude…

Anger.

Indignation.

Pride.

Jesscara drew herself to her full height, her bearing every bit the noble woman she was, “You dare take my power,” darkest brown eyes bore into the sandmockery’s ‘eyes’ as she took a step towards it, “You dare take my form,” another step towards it, “You. Will. Not. Take. My. Nude. Form.” Each word, another anger filled step.

 

[BiSmiley]

(OOC:left this post short till you read my PM)

Thurat was amused by this turn of events, she seemed enraged by such exposure and the theft of shape. Though ones shape was hardly sacred considering the sorcerer held many, soon enough he'd have Jesscara explore other forms but learning to be comfortable with the one she called her own was going to be his first goal...considering he much enjoyed its well proportioned state. Perhaps he should focus her training on manifestation and focus...'thoughts for another time.' He mused.

The sand creature advanced on Jesscara moved like a mirror image the boy watching with bemused interest appropriate to a young boy watching a naked woman. "They don't use magic Miss, but they're tough." He called out.

 

[thewhiteone]

She strode towards the mockery, her anger building with every step…and every mimicked step. It mocked her with every move, perfectly mirroring her. Any noble would not permit such a disgrace, nor would the last noblewoman of House T’ulvat permit it.

As she came within arms reach of the despicable thing, she activated her ring, blasting the animated sand with an invisible wave of force to break it up and knock its parts backward. She followed up with a gesture of her hands, calling upon a gust of wind to carry the dispersed sand mockery’s particles out of the ring and over the cliff.

She’d never actually expected that spell to come in handy. It had seemed like a waste of time and effort that could have been used on a more important spell.

Like most nobles with magical ability, Jesscara placed spells which guarded the mind at the top of the list of 'Important Spells to Know,' followed by spells to gather information from others, alter the minds of others, and protect one’s physical body from harm, in that order of importance. Most learned 2-3 offensive spells, and little to nothing of other forms of magic.

Guess I owe you an apology, she thought to her dead tutor.

 

[BiSmiley]

Thurat watched amused by her raw skills, she definitely needed a harsher hand though the potential that laid there quite plainly to see. Her use of the wind was inspired but it gave rise to another mimic and in reaction Jesscara wove together a gesture spell as she noticed it. The defensive spell causing the light to shimmer around her like water only to fade unseen until struck gave life to another behind her. If she wasn’t careful she’d an army of them to wrangle.

Both standing confidently, as if mocking the earlier attack, the boy giggling “Behind you~!” he sang loudly. Both shapes leaping out at her without hesitation on blow glancing off the unseen barrier sand splashing off into the gentle breeze. ‘Crude but strong’ Thurat mused to himself as he watched her next reaction.

 

[thewhiteone]

As she wove the mage armor, a third sandmockery formed. Despite the anger that filled her mind, the nature of the test dawned on her. This was not a test of combat; it was a different sort of test. The combat was merely a cover real test, likely one of cunning or willpower. The mockery behind her slammed its fist against her, her armor spell held, effortlessly shrugging the blow off.

She would need to think fast, because as sore and blistered as her feet were; she sure as hell wasn’t dodging without tripping herself. Only her determination and anger allowed her to keep on them in the first place.

Crouching down and kneeling, she spread her hands out on the stone floor. This pose served two purposes: first, it helped her concentrate on the magical circle she was in. Secondly it helped steady her under the blows of the sand mockeries as the second one joined bashing away at her. She triggered her ring for the third time, blasting both mockeries apart for a few moments so she could have some time to concentrate without blows constantly raining down on her. It was the last time she’d be able to activate the ring for several hours as the ring recharged.

Taking those few moments, she focused on the inscriptions at the edge of the circle, hoping they would provide some clue as to the operation of the circle. It was clearly very advanced, far beyond her current level of study. She couldn’t even comprehend the marks, let alone use them to formulate a plan of action.

The mockeries reformed, and the blows resumed.

Focusing her rage, hate and pride, she once more tried to fight the connection to the circle and its sandmockeries.

She began buckling under the blows as her mage armor weakened.

 

[BiSmiley]

Thurat crossed his arms as he noticed the 'battle' go poorly...though she was starting to figure out that it wasn't about the fight, by the look of things. Regardless it was time he revealed himself, there was no doubt in his mind that 'this' one was going to be perfect.

His form dripped of shadow aging into his true human shape. Swathed in deep blue robes and stepping onto the sand, "Well done but I've seen enough." Cast a gesture the mimic standing back, his will controlling her power with his own bending and twisting it into solid pillars. These pillars shifted and twisted into different designs he way of focusing his power controlling it, driving his hands down the sands dove into the floor following his hands as he formed a throne beneath Jesscara lifting her into a seated position.

"This circle tests one's self control, and sheer potential, and you my dear have quite alot of potential...but very little control." Thurat mused. "Oh and may introduce myself in in earnest, the sorcerer Thurat.

 

[thewhiteone]

It didn’t seem to matter how hard she fought the link, it continued to draw power from her, and didn’t even seem to notice her efforts to halt it. She didn’t have much time, her armor was going to give out soon, and then she’d be finished.

She would not fail now, not when she was so close!

“Well done, but I’ve seen enough.”

Opening her eyes, she saw dark blue robes standing beside her. At that moment, she felt the link between her and the circle sever. The mockeries turned into pillars of sand, which the man altered several times to suit his whims, and demonstrate his mastery of the circle. The sands crashed to the ground, then swirled under her, catching her by surprise as they lifted her up, forming an elaborate throne of sand for her.

Before her stood a handsome man, impossibly young for his ancient age (assuming this was Thurat himself). His skin was pure white, his hair black, and his eyes a gold that almost glowed. Had she been here before her family’s murder, Jesscara would have been entertaining thoughts of a carnal nature. As it was, he was the path to power, the power for revenge.

The man identified himself as Thurat.

Very little control…it was true that she was somewhat impulsive, but right now she had quite a bit of reason to be out of control. Then again, he was unlikely to know about her ‘excuses’, and probably wouldn’t care much. At least control was learnable, unlike raw potential.

“Jesscara T’ulvat, of House T’ulvat of the Kingdom of Renat. It is an honor to meet you. I’m not sure if you remember, but long ago one of my ancestors, Ysil T’ulvat, had married your apprentice, Dor Hvul.”

It was an arranged marriage to forge an alliance between their two houses, and get a T’ulvat near Thurat in hopes of giving their family a favorable association. Not long after Ysil became pregnant, however, her husband suffered a fatal accident in the lab. Thurat had informed Ysil that she was welcome to come and go as she pleased, and that there would always be a room for her here at Idlin Keep. There had been much speculation about the nature of the accident…and the amount of time Ysil spent at Thurat’s castle.

And whether Dor was the father real father.

 

[BiSmiley]

"The boy was arrogant, and far too self assured, I'd assume that's what killed him." Thurat playing it off coldly distancing himself from the events of histories past "Though potential...is simply that it speaks nothing of skill or assured survival, one you'd best learn before you decide to leave." His remarks meant to put forth the idea that Dor Hvul left earlier than he should have.

He made no mention of the wife, the daughter of the Tulvat family it was likely Jesscara knew everything the family historians deemed worth writing down. "For the time being I'd have you get situated, today you are a guest but tomorrow you are my 'apprentice' you'll find that to be a drastic difference." Taking her hand and guiding her free from the circle.

He led her politely into the keep the doors opened as he approached and closed as they passed through, vacant halls and rooms filled with the most extravagant of items, there was only the scarcest signs of life in this place, Thurat having little need of servants soon expecting the keep to bustle with life.

Ascending the stairs from the main hall he broke the silence "Your room is in the west end of the castle, the east end mostly servants quarters at present I've only a few to maintain the grounds and to receive guests." Taking the way up, while measuring her with subtle glances.

Finally arriving at the end of a long corridor they found the door to Jesscara’s room for the foreseeable future, opening that door into black marble floors and walls, the room large the far end opening like the gaping maw of a monster unto a balcony red drapes cascading down its sides. Beyond all of that the room lay bare with nothing to its name save for a silver bath in the far corner depictions of demon's embossed into the metal.

Thurat's lips curling into a smile "This room like many things in the keep respond to power and control." Thurat moving to the center of the room and kneeling to write a design into the floor, the line he traced with his fingers glowing to life as he connected the final line. In seconds shadows burst from the seems of this room taking shapes and filling the room with all things one would expect to see, color and texture bleeding into the shapes seen.

Completing the room with all the amenities "This is the only time I will do this for you, by morning all of this will be gone, the bath will remain, it will see your wounds and weariness as you train, and tomorrow we'll learn to 'manifest' our needs." It was a simple term, manifesting was constant focus to make one's will into a solid item or image, and by far the best manner to teach focus to untrained.

 

[thewhiteone]

Jesscara simply nodded politely at his explanation of what happened to Dor, and made no mention of Ysil at all. It was about what she expected after all. Either nothing had happened between him and her, in which case there was no need to say more…or something had happened between them, and such things were never admitted by those involved. None the less, Jesscara knew which side she believed. Now whether it was out of family tradition, desperation, or a combination of the two, she couldn’t have said.

Then she heard the words: “my apprentice.”

Elation surged through her weary body. She did it. She was Thurat’s apprentice. Step 2 of her plan for revenge was complete. Now ‘all’ she had to do survive his training and prove herself worthy of continuing to hold that title, unlike how he had described the long dead Dor Hval.

When he took her hand, Jesscara something stir within her, almost…a familiarness.

Pushing that thought aside, she rose and accompanied her master, the free hand retrieving her bag. Despite her pain and weariness, the expression on her face was calm and serene, as befitting a noble of T’ulvat. A noble’s expression was one thing that all nobles had to master if they wanted to succeed in politics, and Jesscara was no exception to that rule. Her mother and court tutor had made sure of that! She carried herself almost properly; the blisters on her feet prevented her from having her usual flawless grace.

For now, she had a brief respite, and was now actually ‘seeing’ the keep. House T’ulvat had been the wealthiest House in all of Renat, rivaling even the king himself, and the T’ulvat estates showed it. What she saw here made T’ulvat seem like beggar barons.

It was no wonder anymore why Thurat turned down the daughters of kings.

She also noted the scarcity of servants. That boy had mentioned that Thurat had only recently begun hiring more from the town, and only to deal with the influx of applicants. Mages tended to have few servants, preferring to trust in their own magic over hordes of servants who might bump something.

He showed her to the room that was to be hers. Curiosity burned within her, was it going to be the lavish quarters that an apprentice of Thurat deserves…or would it be a small plain room to remind her of her ‘place’?

It was neither. The room was almost as large as her old room, the floors and walls immaculate…and completely bare save for curtains on the balcony and a bath. Jesscara was surprised to say the least.

Perhaps furniture would be provided once the servant’s were informed of her tastes?

Thurat went on to explain that this room, like many others, was dependant on the power and control of the one wishing to use them. An interesting way to operate the keep. It meant that the weak and weak willed could do nothing in many of the rooms, while for those with power and control those rooms offered complete customization with but a few moments.

As Thurat promptly demonstrated. She watched as he traced a design onto the floor, taking careful mental notes on it. Moments later shadows began to coalesce into shapes, shapes which became solid, and then took on the colors Thurat had desired.

Jesscara was visibly impressed. He went on to explain that after today, she was on her own as far as her room was concerned. Tomorrow, the lessons on mastering rooms such as this would begin.

“At what point will they disappear in the morning and when am I expected to be up?” she inquired. She didn’t fancy sleeping on the bed, only to have it disintegrate beneath her, nor did she like the idea of being late on the first day.

 

[BiSmiley]

Thurat paused for but a moment when she asked the question “The bulk of the ‘servants’ arrive tomorrow from Idlin, it’s a short wagon ride in the light of dawn, Levin will wake you in the morning, and the spell should last until mid-day.”

Rising back to his feet and looking into her eyes…’driven’ he thought, keeping a cold grimace for the time being. Looking her up and down “I’m assuming you haven’t brought much with you in the way of belongings, so tomorrow be sure to wear something you wont mind ‘damaging’.” Her current garb would be appropriate knowing it would likely be destroyed with tomorrow’s lesson.

Thurat turned his golden eyes to the balcony and waved his hand toward the drapes, which fell across the opening, “Levin will be up after I leave, he will be your personal servant from here on out, responsible for your wellbeing, he will bring food guide you through the keep.” Levin was one of the ‘trusted’ few servants that stayed in the keep and the only one with the etiquette to deal with ‘nobility’ an exiled prince now an old man without a country. And the only ‘living’ human to have seen Thurat’s true form.

“I’m sure you’re hungry, and tired…Solve those issues and prepare for a long day tomorrow.” Thurat leaving immediately after without waiting for a response as any self important human would have.

He met the silver haired Levin at the base of the stairs “She’s beautiful milord,” Sharp eyes for an old mortal “I’m assuming you’ve a task in mind for me.”

“Yes and I assume you know well what that is.” This had been the way of things for many years “Smile for the lady, its not everyday we’re spared ‘rich brats’.”

“Indeed milord.” Levin making his way up the stairs with Thurat calling up to him.

“Knock first she’s likely taking a bath.”

(Levin is NPC, so control him as much as you want)

 

[thewhiteone]

Mid-day, good. At least I don’t have to worry about it disappearing in my sleep, she thought. While she was pleased that he was assigning her a personal servant, it was a he. A lady’s personal servant should always be a woman, and a lord’s servant a man. That was the way it was supposed to be. What did a man know about helping a lady get ready? Even if he did know, it would be most improper for him to be around her when she bathed or got dressed.

Remember your Vengeance, she sternly reminded herself, it’s all that matters in the end.

Clothing I don’t mind damaging…so this crap. She wasn’t going to risk her last toga, the one she had fled in. That was to be saved for the day of Hulute’s reckoning. Jesscara was unsure if she wanted it to keep its torn, dirtied, and bloodied appearance…or if she wanted it restored to its former glory. She would need to acquire more clothing; that much was for sure.

His quick departure reminded her of how she and other nobles treated commoners…and she didn’t like it. Not one bit, but she would endure it if it got her closer to the brutal destruction of her enemies and their allies.

She immediately started the bath. She needed that bath to remove her aches and blisters.

It was the first time she had ever started her bath herself. It had always been someone else. For the past 12 years, that someone had been Ereena, her personal handmaiden. Eyes glittered with rage as she thought of the blood blossoming from Ereena’s chest were an arbalest bolt had ripped clear through it.

Tearing herself from the memory, she returned herself to the bath that was filling. To her surprise, the water itself seemed to be scented already and was generating a nice thick layer of bubbles on top. Though smaller than her own 10 person bath, it was still a large bath, easily big enough 6 people.

Stripping as quickly as her body would allow, she then proceeded to sink into the hot soapy water.

No sooner than she had done so, was there a knock on the door.

She grumbled to herself, Must be Levin. Well Thurat did say he’d be up shortly.

“Enter.”

 

[BiSmiley]

Levin was quick to follow Thurat’s instruction, the demon was a patient creature fortunately but his respect for the ways of men was utterly lacking, sending him into a lady’s chamber…Levin shook his head at the thought even if it hadn’t been the first time he’d gone against common sense. Plodding up the stairs and knocking upon the new-comer’s door, only to hear a familiar tone beckoning him in with a certain distaste.

“Forgive me milady, Master Thurat is an ‘unconventional’ sort.” Bowing his head to the floor as he taught himself…these apprentices were of odd nature at the best of times, so it was best to watch his place carefully until he got a measure of the girl. “Proper etiquette, as I’m sure you know better than I.” His noble upbringing showing even in his humble well chosen words.

“I am Levin Atrisatta…well I once was.“ Being unashamed to utter his name, the prince to rebelling duchy stamped out years ago, while he was made mute to magic and exhiled. He was once an apprentice to Thurat but that was as a child.

“Though I will admit there are none as capable for this job as myself, if that elates any fears you may have,” Levin was well versed in all the duties expected of him Thurat had seen to that. Well Levin kept his back to the bath giving view only to the balcony his silvery hair and clothing kept well above the common servants standards. He would only dare turn his gaze in her direction should she request it.

“My duties are to serve, I know this keep intimately, as well as many of the more ‘mysterious’ treasures, you need but ask and I will tell you what I can.” He also had a good idea of what Thurat would put this girl through, the demon had many a devious inclination.