Mastering the Mind (Private, Mod Please)

[Pescado Branch]

Timestamp: 1st of Imperos, Autumn, Era II of the Celestial Mandate, Era XIV PF

Sitting amongst the tall grass of the Carmelyan Hinterlands, the saurid, Pescado Branch, retreated to his Clara to begin work upon a spell he might later call his Masterpiece. Working amongst himself, he would start to pull the Ara from around him, and collect it into his Vis, forming the beginnings of an Arcalysis reaction. The first thing he would need to do is cast a spell to make him more amiable to arcana, as well as allow him to cast more than a few Journeyman spells, seeing as how this would all be trial and hopefully not deadly error. Channeling the Psionic Essense from the Psionic Planes, and then focusing it into this Arcalysis reaction, he would form the necessary Mana required for the spell of Attonement. Divining the Mana into his Mind, he would open his own mind up to himself so as to work with the Mana within it. He'd then begin to alter the form along his nerves, so as to make it so he could work faster, and more fluently than before. Then he'd Abjure the Psionic essenses from the Psionic planes, to keep them flowing into his mind, and help increase his spell casting ability. Thus, the spell of Attonement was cast.

He'd then begin to create more Mana in the same way he had done before. This time, he'd make a greater quantity of it though, and begin his first attempt in weaving a Masterpiece spell he would call Psionic Teleporation. It would be an attempt to mimic the spell called Teleportation using the powers of Mysticism instead of Sorcery. Allowing the Mana to stream forth into himself, he would then Divine his mind outwards, three feet infront of him, and Begin to Abjure his energy to that spot. Finally, he would Conjure his Physical body, which the Mana was flowing through to that spot. Either it would entirely not work, he'd end up dead trying it, or his body would disappear, and then reappear on that spot. He didn't know what would happen, and the saurid's unique ability to not fear death would not prevent him from trying...

[Crimson]

OoC: sorry for the delay, bud. Had to discuss this with a few peeps so I don't step on anyone's toes

The Carmelyn Hinterlands was no stranger to saurids. But over the course of its ageless memory, only a handfull ever dared press on its emerald carpet. The wilderness was indeed a fitting name for the place, rows upon rows of green blades started from where Pescado began and ended only where the mountains or oceans began. Cities, villages, and towns were spaced unevenly throughout the area. Woodlands and even small forests could be found, some mundane others more magical. But for this brightening, the saurid hero of our tale was happy just to sit among the grass, deep in meditation.

'That's what mages do!', said one blade of grass to the others, 'and by the looks of things, this lizard is a good 'un!'

'You ... you think he's one of those show-off elementalists ...?', asked a nearby tree his branches nervously twitching as a breeze happened to sweep through the plains, 'this one time, when I was a seedling my uncle said that elementalists could make fire --'

There was a general gasp within the Hinterlands.

'That's right, fire, he said that elementalists could set things on fire at will !'

And with that, the entire plain held its breath for Pescado to cast his first spell. And with a momentary pulsation of cold, blue light, Attunement was produced and the Hinterlands sighed in unison. 'Thank Carmelya!' The spell was a powerful manipulation of psionic energies, using the available three shaping techniques maximum that any Journeyman could perform. The complex weave first required abjuration to cause a steady flow of psionic essence that was altered to aid the primary divination that essentially built a tempary but powerful bridge which connected the various connectors and connections that made up the saurids mind and body.

Pescado's mind was thus aroused, creativity suddenly reborn. He could feel his senses tingle as his neural powers were exponentially increased. Pescado easily slipped into Clara soon after and proceeded with his experimenting. This was no longer a game to the Adept. He wielded powers no ordinary mortal could imagine. He had the power to evolve or destroy the mortal mind. And using his theories and applicable knowledge, he began to shape his second spell.

Psionic Teleportation, was Pescado chose to coin his creation, relied on the premise that the mind was the center of the phsyical body. It was a solid theory, and in combination with the Saurid's basic knowledge of the Sorcery spell Teleportation, he hoped to mimic the foreign sphere's spell using his own talents in Mysticism. With his mind's hands, Pescado dove into the Plane of Thought and produced the raw essence required to divine his conscious mind outward. When he did so, he attempted to conjure the mana to produce a physical body. This was followed by abjuration, channeling what Pescado hoped to be the rest of his physical manifestation on the Material Plane to the spot about three paces in front of him.

And that's where things go strange.

After his spell was released, he felt his consciousness suddenly shift -- as if his body was pulled outward from his ... body. And then stopped. He could look back and see his body ... which was weird, then looked down to see his physical body still. Also weird. He was standing about three paces, indeed, but his physical body remained.

So, what was Pescado's form now?

In truth, Pescado's spell acted more like Astral Transcendance and gave him an 'out of body' experience instead. His psionic powers were unable to form, or in this case, reform his physical body. That was not how Mysticism functioned. The processes of his mind was intact, thankfully, by either fate or his skills and talents combined. But for now, he could either choose to float around in his current state, or rejoin with his body again. Either way, Pescado already performed two Journeyman level spells. He had only one third of his Vis remaining before needing much rest.

[Pescado Branch]

Perhaps it was fate that this spell would not work. The spell of Astral Transcendance worked perfectly, although, it was not the spell he had been aiming for. Giving up tended not to be something the saurid did very often, and he would not give up on this yet. Making his way back over to his physical body, he then would pull the Ara and Vis strands out of the spells weave, and return to his physical body as he dispelled the spell he had just casted, making sure not to dispell his first spell of Atonement.

As he was thinking about the spell he did not want to give up on it, the thought occured to him as it had not before. He was in the sphere of Mysticism, which dealt with the mind, and not of the body. There would be no way he could ever do a spell he was hopeful of doing. Time and time again he might have tried, but instead of enduring the suffering of a neverending failure, he decided that his Masterpiece had to be one of great prowess. Feeling drained of Vis, as he had casted two journeyman level spells already, he decided that it would be beneficial if he could gain it back.

Making his way through the Hinterlands to a nearby village, he looked around at the people. They had perhaps seen a saurid before, since there was a mound close by, but he hoped they they would not be to unliking of his kind. Heading for the most crowded part of the village he could go to, the village tavern, he would slip into his Clara once more. After he was deep within it, he would begin to weave the spell he would later call Yuthak's Hunger. Gathering the necessary Ara and mixing it with his Vis, he would then channel the Psionic Essence from the Psionic Plane to complete the gathering of mana he would need to attempt to cast the spell. He would then spread the Mana out around him, and begin divining it into everyone that was near him. As he did this, he would abjure their minds back towards him, and then alter it into Vis, to attempt to refill his depleted stock...

[Crimson]

The nearby village Prescado ventured into would remained forever obscured in the ebbs and tides of history. The villagers there had only a few dozen goats, some sheep, and several fat chicken. A child looked up, seeing the monstrous lizard, yelped and ran into his home. Several hovels, none much larger than the other, dotted the small village. Some farmers came out, after hearing the yelling, and regarded the lizardman in wide-eyed amusement. Others called their friends, telling them to 'come look!'

But as the common saying went: curiosity killed the katta; and in that sense, the villagers closest to Prescado suddenly felt a surge of overwhelming pain shooting from their heads. The Journeyman was instilling a powerful version of Psionic Shock without intending it -- but the added abjuration was doing its work. Psionic energy was the basis of life, after all, the runnings of the mysterious mechanisms which allowed the mind to tell one's body what to do, consciously or not. Lungs ceased to functions as stomachs, kidneys, and an assortment of other unknown or unnamed organs stopped altogether.

Older villagers had heartattachs before Jalat took them; the others simply fell from where they stood, while neighbors watched in horror. About a dozen people felt Yuthak's Hunger, but only Prescado's needs would be satiated. The collected psionic weaves from their minds, their very memories, thoughts, hopes, and dreams were slowly channeled, abjured, before altered to restore Prescado's own Vis reserves.

He felt the energy rise within him, filling him with a myriad of emotions all at once. But the power, the renewed strength, he felt strongest. He approximated the amount of Vis he gained by absorbing and estimated it to be sufficient for 1 more journeyman level spell and about 2 more apprentice-level spells altogether.

[Pescado Branch]

Time would cease to flow for some of the villagers. Twelve to be exact. Jalat would take their souls, and their bodies would be buried. But for the saurid, power was overwhelming him. He had used up a journeyman spell, and gained the ability to cast another plus change. The spell he had just created worked. He let his eyes look around to see the dead fleshlings around him, and something inside him just snapped. A darkness took over his mind, and the mystic became a much darker person. The power he had gained from the spell made him yearn for more. His Masterpiece was complete, but at what cost. How could he ever be promoted with a spell that can kill people in an instant?

Letting his eyes scan the area, his metal tail swinging back an forth, but keeping his balance as usual, the large saurid began to move forwards, having stopped with he casted his spell. He wondered what the villager's reactions would be. If they banded together and came after him, all he had to do was cast the same spell again, and their minds would be his power. Yuthak was the name of the creature that he had mimicked with the spell, and a grand spell it was. Innovative, and creative, he had found a renewal of the Vis that he so naturally needed for spells.

Moving towards the exit of the village, he almost wanted to wait to see what the rest of the villagers would do, now that twelve of them were dead, and forever lost within the flows of time. Their minds had melded together before their bodies ceased to work, and they may have experienced each others dreams, hopes, memories, and emotions before life had been sucked from them. The saurid did not know, nor did he care. He had seen the looks of amusement in their eyes before he sucked the life out of them. He had a glint of evil in his own eyes. He would never be known as a good saurid anymore. He wondered, was this what the Dark Ones felt like? Their black scales, their affinity for necromancy, their lust for power, and eagerness to take life? Perhaps life as a dark one would be better for him. Perhaps he could somehow change his look, now that his mentality had been changed. The once good saurid, and amazingly talented saurid, looked onward towards the setting sun, as the evil thoughts began to cross his mind, and his visage became a dark one instead of a light one...

[Crimson]

Chaos ensued.

Those who were not devoured by Pescado's spell ran for their lives. The men who were working in their small plots of fertile land dropped their tools, gathered their families, and took off with as much of their belongings. A few carts were loaded in a distance, horses were saddled, hitched, and adjusted for an evacuation.

"Monster! Monster! We're under attack!", the villagers screamed through tears of grief and anger, "the monster reptile! The lizardmen are attacking us!"

All around him, Pescado realized beauty and horror alike. The setting Suns were painting the horizon with magnificent reds, oranges, golds while the heavens seemed to erupt in flares of purple, blues, and more reds. The village, however, was completely devestated. Bodies littered the dirt path leading to its center, while scattered belongings, abandoned homes, and various other objects told a tale of horror.

The Mystical Saurid then slowly felt the familiar churning of his thoughts. It was a common practice among sentient beings, a process known better as reflection. But then ... images, thoughts, memories, flashed. None of them were his. He remembered building his first wagon ... his first harvest ... his first child ... the moment he married a woman named Beth ... their first moment of intimacy ... then, more memories, more recollections ...

Pescado was looking in the mirror, but he saw a human .. .middle-aged, handsome, dressing up for what may be a festival of sorts ... children, he saw their faces ... his wife, her family ... they were happy ... he was happy?

[Pescado Branch]

Pescado watched as the remaining villagers began to run in fear. It was quite strange. He had thought that they would come after him. He was even thinking about letting some of them live. Looking onwards towards the setting sun, reflection was indeed something he would need. Exploring the darker side of the mind was quite exhilarating. Death, mayhem, he didn't think he'd ever like it, but apparently a part of him did. Letting his mind set at ease, he suddenly began to feel something.

The various memories started popping up into his head. They weren't his, but he remembered them. Almost panicked, the saurid began to sift through them, attempting to find out what was happening to him. He had absorbed their minds. Was this what Yuthak felt like after he had devoured every being in range? He suddenly felt happy, and good again, remembering his wife Beth, his children. In seeing that mirror, he saw himself as human. But then, he also remembered his saurid past, his scales. Attempting to suppress those memories, personalities, and minds that he had absorbed, he would try to regain his own mind. If the villagers indeed came back for revenge, it would not be good being someone else, and not of the right mind. He had to be ready for anything, and apparently, a spell he thought might make him that way, had it's expenses...

[Crimson]

Every spell had an expense. For most magi, it was Vis -- a mage's very lifesource. Depleting one's Vis is more likely to render Initiates and Apprentices unconscious. Some died. Adepts and more powerful magi were less likely to suffer unconsciousness due to their minds' strengthened resistances against the strains of channeling and casting. But that didn't mean that advanced magi could not over-exert their power resevoirs and do damage to themselves.

In Pescado's case, he was master his mind ... and the minds of others as well. These new thoughts, these unknown memories must have stemmed from somewhere. That thought alone was sobering, if not reflective. All around the saurid screams and yells for help, escape, and an assortment of other panicky verbs and nouns filled the small village. They lost family, friends, loved ones. But they were also smart enough to know that whatever witchery befell the victims, they were no match for the lizardman's powers.

After the cloud of dust and earth settled, there was nothing else left in the village but the mindless shells of Pescado's victims and Pescado himself.

[Pescado Branch]

If saurids could grin, Pescado would have. These memories gave him power over life itself, and perhaps if he could keep them out of his mind while casting, he'd be a much more efficient mage. Taking his leave of the empty village, he began to wander furthur into the Hinterlands, still thinking about the things that had just happened. He had other people memories within him now, and he wondered if that would happen every time he used his masterpiece spell. It would be interesting to see what happened.

As he continued to wander through the Hinterlands, reflecting on what had happened, and what he had done, he began a search for a new target, to further test this spell, as well as hone it. There also came a thought about having to find a group of masters that would promote him for this spell. He had killed 12 innocent people with it, and he doubted that any master would wish to help with his promotion after finding that out, if indeed they did find that out before he was promoted...

[Crimson]

The Hinterlands was a vast and lonely place. Tiny villages dotted the grassy plains, as Pescado well knew, but aside from the larger towns such as Terenshire and Milswick, only the cities and trade ports were noted on Empire-wide maps. Overhead, the skies were darkening to shades of purples and deep blue as the Saurid traversed the wilderness. The Suns were well below the horizon now, with only a bright crimson glare to remind Telath of their former rays above. And before long, it would be too dark ... especially without torch light , or any light for that matter.

Pescado did find himself a worn dirt path leading him west. But where it led was an entirely different story. He was not a geographer, and his eyes could find no other source of light save the starry hosts above and the cloud-covered Moons that would soon reign over Telath's heavens for the darkening candlemarks. But then ... Pescado smelled something.

To his left, he suddenly noticed the small, faint glow of a campfire. And they were cooking ... something. It smelled of meat, of blood. They were some sixty or seventy paces away. Their camp was, however, covered by the high grass. Should Pescado approach the camp, he'd hear voices. Male. A pair, it seemed. They were talking.

[Pescado Branch]

Watching the sun go down, the saurid continued to walk throughout the cool night, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness that enveloped the area. Seeing the campfire, he began to move forwards, towards it, entering his Clara, and mixing the Ara with his Vis to create an arcalysis reaction. Focusing upon the psionic planes, and channeling the essense into his reaction to form the necessary mana for an initiate spell, he put the thoughts of unseeing, and invisibility into it. Cloaking his body with the mana, he then cast the spell of Invisibility upon himself, so as to be unseen by anyone around him.

He would then enter the area where the two men were camped, and would allow himself to look on, and listen to anything they had to say. Eavesdropping was something that most mystics could do well, so long as they continued to make their presence unknown. It would be nice though, depending on what he heard, if he could take their minds from them as well, another good meal, but perhaps not as much Vis as he might like. He, however, would first listen to their conversation before making any immediate decisions about tasting their memories, and minds...

[Crimson]

There were indeed two men camped around a small fire. They were burning chips of wood and some branches they probably found around the Hinterlands. It wasn't uncommon to find a small gathering of trees nearby. One of them, a bearded fellow, was heating a few links of sausages while his counterpart, a red haired man with narrow eyes, continued the conversation.

"An' I said to her 'woman don't you stop yer yappin' before I slap ya across the face with this shovel!' and she says 'well then you'll be paying fer some whores down by the docks tonight!' so I shut up and ate her cookin'."

The two men laughed and the bearded fellow offered his friend some food.

"Thanks", said the red-haired man. "Say, Argus, do how far do you think Mileswick is from here?"

"Probably two, three more brightenings tops." The other man, Argus evidently, poked into his pack again and produced some more sausage links. "Why you goin' that way? Trysvale is the place to go these days. Lots of news comin' from there. Plus, it's on the way to Jaedaxia! Never you heard of them vampires stories, Pete?"

"Nah", the man named Pete returned between bites of his sausage link, "them ghost stories and ghouls and such don't fancy me no more. Gotta wife to screw and kids to make!"

The two men laughed again, completely unaware of the rustling leaves and the odd crunch of tall grass around them. Pescado's Invisibility spell worked instantly, covering him with a definate cloak of unseeing. It was a basic Mystic trick, but held much promise in the hands of a talented Saurid.

[Pescado Branch]

Watching them and studying them, the saurid let his mind wander for a moment. Would he really want the minds of two of these creatin's within him. His lusted for their Vis, but at the same time, thought about playing with their minds for a bit first, seeing as how he had enough Vis left for an adept spell, an apprentice spell, and two initiate spells. He'd stick with the Initiate spells, and re-enter his Clara to start working upon the spell crafting techniques he had been taught. Gathering his Ara and Vis, and mixing it together, he'd form the arcalysis reaction. Then channeling the psionic essense to his mixture, after focusing on the planes which they came from, he'd form the necessary mana to cast this spell.

Divining the Mana into the mind of Pete, whom was talking about "screwing his wife and making kids" he placed a suggestion in his mind that would make him think Argus was a sexy woman, that was coming onto him, and that he'd love to screw as much as his wife. Hopefully Pete's mind could be poisoned to try this, as it would make quite a funny sight, seeing this "faithful" man become a bit unfaithful. The spell of Suggestion would be cast, and the saurid would see what the results of his work ended up being...

[Crimson]

There was a momentary paused in their conversation as Pete's mind was invaded by the Suggestion from the invisible and talented Saurid Mystic. Argus, who had no way of knowing the sudden change in his friend's mindset, continued to bite and chew on the sausages he was cooking for the Prescenda. Then, quite abruptly, Pete purred and placed a hand on his buddy's right thigh.

" ... erm, what are you doing?", Argus said gruffly, raising a brow in confusion.

" ... you look so ...", Pete whispered, " ... beautiful among the fiery glow of our camp."

Argus coughed, half choking on the sausage he was swallowing, and half laughing. "WHAT? Have you been smoking that quaifa again?"

But Pete's gaze never waivered. He smiled, licked his lower lip, and continued his advance. "You are look wonderful this darkening", he said in a low, sexy voice, "there's no one out here ... no one will know ... you know what I mean?" He p