Seeking Deirdre, the Quest Begins (GM Tisiphone please)

[Lohrtar Silvermoon]

The young Ikonomancer was certainly not wasting any time. It had been a few brightenings since he had returned to the colorful city of Vers, with a very specific quest in mind, and now he was taking the first step on said quest. This was not a quest that had been given to him by anyone. No, Lohrtar was his own master, and it was his own idea to go on this quest. The quest to find the creator, and thus likely the most powerful user, of Ikos, so that she could give him the teaching a talented young man as himself needed and deserved. Having been promoted to the rank of journeyman, his self-importance and pride seemed to precede his competence, and he was reluctant to let any master of Ikos train him to the next level. No, Lohrtar Silvermoon, son of Altharion Silvermoon, deserved and required the best of the best. Such a magical talent could only be honed by the finest of teachers, he thought. Indeed, it was not confidence that he lacked.

But where to begin? The fae had been banned, that was common knowledge. So Deirdre, although as an archmage quite able to hide, was more than likely not in Vers anymore, Lohrtar concluded. With her descent into madness, as Lohrtar had forced himself to view it, in which she proclaimed to have found a ‘true goddess’ the goddess of Ikos, which most saw as heresy, and meant that she was probably not the easiest to track down. As a dedicated follower of Rak, Lohrtar would have problems accepting the fact that his power came from an entirely different deity, if such was actually the case. But it was a dillema. By outright denying the slighest chance of this being the case, he effectively wrote off the creator of Ikos, his future mentor (or so he hoped) as a lunatic. His conclusion was that madness often followed genius, and that Deirdre probably had problems coping with the near-infinity of her powers. Brilliant and mad. Those were the two words that Lohrtar would use to describe her.

But some must have followed her. Archmages commanded a lot of respect, and Lohrtar knew that. This meant that they could do just what she had done: Invent a religion. A few people, at least, would certainly follow, out of sheer admiration of the archmage. So someone in Vers had to know about the whereabouts of the fae Ikonomancer. He decided the best place to start his search was the Imaden School of Higher Learning. He had been here before. A beautiful and talented elf, Elorie, had furthered his proficiency in Ikos. What better person to ask than a mistress of Ikos? Lohrtar decided to go see her, and when up to the counter. ”Serale, and good brightening to you”, he greeted the clerk. ”Where can I find miss Elorie Siluvanade?”, he asked with a friendly smile. Already he was looking forward to see her face again.

OOC: The thread in which Lohrtar meets Elorie is here. I’m pretty sure she was created for the purpose of my training thread, so she is probably not around anymore (up to you of course). But obviously Lohrtar would try and seek her out..

[Odyleon]

OOC: I'll be peer modding this thread, coordinating things with Tisiphone when GM-ly supervision is required.

Vers, the hometown of Ikos. One would have expected a bigger display of the sphere being made at the Imaden School, but strangely enough, Ikos was not the most advertised discipline of Arcana, not even here. The fact Deirdre was a Fae, and a heretic, certainly played a role in this – but also the fact that Ikos differed so drastically from the other spheres, that many would not even view it as true magic.

Still, Ikos had its followers, like Mistress Elorie. The clerk nodded as the man mentioned the Mistress, but the nod was followed by a timid shake of his head. "I surely remember Miss Elorie" he said "One of the most gracious creatures to ever walk into the Imaden, if I may add. But she wasn't part of the permanent teaching staff here, I'm sorry. We have a few Masters here who come from all over the Empire to further their knowledge and share ideas here in Vers, one of the most – if not the most – prominent centers for the Arcane on Telath. They usually stay a few months as our guests and in return they serve as instructors for our students. I am afraid Mistress Elorie left Vers for Silrosia a couple of months ago and..."

The clerk stopped on his tracks as a sudden revelation seemed to dawn on him. "Excuse me, good sir..." he asked politely "... are you Lohrtar Silvermoon?"

[Lohrtar Silvermoon]

It was quite a disappointment to learn that Elorie was not around in Vers anymore. An entrancing woman she was, and Lohrtar found her quite fascinating; and not just for her Ikos prowess. He had longed to see her again, but sadly this would not be an option. He would have to visit Silrosia some time. It was also quite a shame to see that in Vers, the very birthplace of Ikos, it was still an obscure art; and even here it was looked down upon by some, not regarded as true arcana. But it was. Of course it was... More so than any of the other spheres. That was Lohrtar’s persuasion anyway.

His head was dropped in disappointment as he spoke: ”Oh well, thanks. I...” The clerk interrupted him. He knew his name, though possibly from the records of his training. Still Lohrtar was struck with confusion. It was not often that he met people who knew him, as he was not the most social of persons.

”Yes, I am Lohrtar Silvermoon. Why do you ask?”, he inquired curiously.

[Odyleon]

This particular turn of events was rather strange indeed, for Lohrtar and the clerk had never met before, nor had the man looked up the Adept's name on any school registry; however, the mystery was a short-lived one, and the clerk's explanation came without further ado.

"Well met, Master Silvermoon." he said "You see, the brightening Mistress Elorie left, she passed by to check out and return a few objects the management had provided her with for the duration of her stay – like the keys of her apartment and classroom at the Imaden and custom Master robes. It was then that she mentioned your name."

The man smiled and reached down into a recess of his desk. "Hmm, I'm sure I still have it here. Must be. I mean, it'd take a very stupid thief to try and pull a heist on the Imaden itself... oh, here it is!"

The clerk retrieved a package of sorts and placed it on the reception desk. It was a box, wrapped in some kind of hard, yellowish paper and tied up with thin strings of thread, a present of sorts. The words 'To Lohrtar Silvermoon' had been written on the wrapping by a hand so graceful, it was hard for a Human to ever believe real. "I remember it as if it were today" the man explained. "The Mistress walked in and asked a favor of me. She instructed me to deliver this package to Lohrtar Silvermoon when he would come back. She said he was late and she couldn't stay any longer, as much as she wished to deliver the package in person, and she didn't know his address."

The clerk's face became pensive for a few moments. "When I asked her how she'd know the man would ever come here, she said something about men being very predictable, I don't know if she was serious though. Anyway, I had almost forgotten about this box till you walked over and mentioned her name. I guess you can have it, then. A gift from such a beautiful creature... I must admit I wish she would have left something for me, as well."

With this, the clerk sighed and gestured for Lohrtar to take the wrapped box.

[Lohrtar Silvermoon]

He was filled with a quiet excitement at the sight of the present. He felt a warmth at the thought of his previous teacher, whom he had held in great respect, and perhaps also had some inappropriate feelings for. But how could he be blamed. More often than not, men were left rather powerless in the prescence of a beautiful women. A wide smile was upon his face as he accepted the box from the seemingly envious clerk.

”Indeed she is a beautiful woman.” He could hardly argue with that. ”Thank you for keeping the box for me, sir”, Lohrtar said politely, though the present had his undivided attention at this moment. Though he was anxious, to say the least, to open it, he thought of the possibility that it was a rather personal gift. Anyway, there was no apparent reason to let the clerk, despite his curiosity, see what the box contained. With a happy smile and a ‘serale’, he left the premises, and began opening the box as he walked.

[Odyleon]

The clerk himself had long stopped trying to second-guess Masters and Mistresses of any kind, and left it at that. Not being an overly curious person, he had never felt the urge to actually take a peek into the box, partly out of honesty and partly because he knew Ikos well enough to fear triggering a curse, should anyone other than the intended recipient unwrap the package.

The streets of Vers were vibrant and rich with activity and art, as usual, though much more quiet in the Hygh District than in the rest of the town. The surroundings of the Imaden, framed by lines of ancient trees that seemed to never have been saplings, reflected the vicinity of the school, and respected the learning that took place within. The people who walked by would never raise their voices any louder than strictly necessary, and the street performers kept their distance from the place altogether.

Lohrtar did, therefore, enjoy some privacy as he unsealed the package that Elorie had left for him. It did not take him long to figure out the content. If Ikos could be compared to swordsmanship, what the Silrosian had sent him was a little arsenal of sharp, tested blades. Drawing material, mostly, though considerably higher-quality than anything Lohrtar had employed so far. Several glass pots of colored ink, coming in most basic tints, and professional pens and brushes to put them to good use. The paper itself – paper, not rough parchment, and with a hint of glossiness on its surface – came straight from Medonia, pretty much the best an artist could wish for.

And there was a letter, written in the same ethereal handwriting as the instructions on the envelope. The Mistress had caressed the paper rather than written on it.

Dear Lohrtar,

if you are reading this letter, it means that my wish has come true, albeit later than I had hoped, or anticipated. Tomorrow, I must leave the town of Vers and set out to my homeland, possibly never to return to Sheria. It is unlikely that I will ever be granted another Fellowship at the Imaden, not after the stones I tried to turn in Vers. I was not scheduled to leave until three cycles from now, but all of the sudden "bureaucratic issues" have arisen that have led the management to kindly ask me to leave.

And thus, I tried and failed.

Granted, I was never fully honest to them. Even before I set foot in Vers, I already had further motives for coming here than just teaching as a guest at the Imaden. I first heard of that item from the mouth of a fellow Ikonomancer who claimed to have been one of Deirdre Lorelei's first students. And judging by his skill, I have no reason to not believe his words.

Oliver was his name. He told me of his months as Deirdre's apprentice, when she was still refining the art, herself learning notions and immediately passing them down to her students. He was one of the select few people to ever glance at Deirdre's journal. An unpublished work that the Archmage bore no love to. More than once was she on the verge of destroying it with her own hands – I can only imagine the painful memories it evoked in her soul.

She probably never disposed of it, though. Deirdre is a being of creation, not destruction; burning books is as foreign to her nature as hunting is to a dove's. Oliver Plotinus was certain that the journal still existed when he left her tutelage; but that she dreaded even being in the same room as that item in the final brightenings. Unlikely, therefore, that she might have brought it with her in her exile.

The last place where the journal was spotted is in Deirdre's former workplace, a shoppe called Width of a Circle. The Archmagess used to own the place, a popular store for enchanted trinkets; it made her good money. She gave her first Ikos lessons in the basement of that building, and the shoppe even continued its activity for a short while after Julos' edict forced her to leave with haste.

A few months later, however, the unexpected happened again, and Vers was attacked by a novel monstrosity, an animated statue of the god Orod that some crazed Mage unleashed upon the town. It slaughtered dozens of people after it stepped into the Arcane shoppe, picked up an enchanted sword and shield and killed the clerk and anyone else who happened to be nearby. It was damaged and driven off the town, eventually, but not before dealing heavy damage to the town. The memory of the attack is still burning in the heart of most Versians.

The Width of a Circle was shut down, forever. A disgusting person by the name of Aeron Mordeth has opened a similar business elsewhere, but the entrance of the first shoppe was bolted and the entire area is still largely avoided by the populace. They say the place is haunted, but by what I cannot say. My investigations on the matter of Ikos must have angered the ruling elite of Vers, for the Thane insists in his policy of getting the favor of the Church, and sees Ikos as a thorn in his side.

Lohrtar, you must recover Deirdre's journal from that place, if it still exists. You must succeed where I failed. Unlike me, you are just another citizen, a nameless stranger in a city of Magi. I know you will try – none among my students ever stroke me with the brush of will and ambition than you did. What you do with the journal, if you manage to find it, is unimportant. What I ask of you, if you find it and it contains what I hope it does – the proof that Ikos is not heresy – is that you spread this knowledge to the masses. The people must know that our hearts lie in the right place.

Good... luck? Is that what the world calls it? I'd rather say, may you shape a future of light, Lohrtar.

Yours,
Elorie Siluvanade