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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:26:57 GMT -6
It wasn't that Malcolm hadn't thought his decision through when he made the choice to set out, but... He hadn't known for sure where the journey would take him, or how long that journey would be. And there was only so much wealth one could take with them before it became a serious risk and liability. And so when he established himself here, while he was not exactly penniless and certainly not without resources, he was also not as well off as he was used to. Nor as well off as he would like. Not that he hadn't been through worse, of course, but it wasn't as though he dug himself out of that hole just so he could fall back in again. And if selling - what - a piece of his soul was it? would see him making some good money in the process, then why not give it a go?
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:30:35 GMT -6
He had done his research, of course. It wasn't his style to go about making deals without knowing what exactly he would be giving up. But the buyer had agreed to provide all the components, and apparently the soul was a thing that could grow back with proper care. It would sting, but no more than that, so he had been reassured. It was even becoming something of a market here in the city, and while the healers had looked at him with exasperation, they didn't try to warn him away from it either.
And so Malcolm found himself at the foot of an altar. It certainly didn't look very welcoming, but then, considering what the ritual apparently involved, he supposed it wouldn't.
The items in his hands looked mundane enough, though even he, unversed in magic though he was, could feel a faint energy from the three greyish colored crystals.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:33:44 GMT -6
By contrast, the berries looked positively mundane, right down to their colors. They were dried, wrinkled-looking things, but preserved fruit often was. Apparently it didn't detract from their healing properties. The buyer had certainly handled them reverently enough when handing them over, and warned him against losing even one.
... And the pink orb... He had been told it would act as a vessel. It felt utterly unremarkable, but who was he to doubt it, when he wasn't a mage himself?
Malcolm ascended the stairs with a businesslike pace, though he found, as he climbed, that there were rather more of them than he would have liked. They made these pilgrims work for their sacrifice, did they? He applied himself grimly, and without joy; and eventually he reached the summit.
The buyer had warned him about the robed figures too. Malcolm's gaze drifted over each one in turn, but he didn't dwell on them for long.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:37:09 GMT -6
Don't trifle with them, and they wouldn't trifle with you... So he was given to understand. Well, that suited him just fine. If he wasn't here to network, then there was no sense in bothering with them; and anyways they looked like properly taciturn, unyielding types. Not worth his time or his breath.
He approached the stone slab, and laid out the items one by one. He himself had no investment in the process, but in this case there was no sense in trying to cheat the client out of a job properly performed. And more to the point, he didn't know what the consequences would be for a botched ritual, so he may as well take a little care.
Next came the berries, which he ate without relish. He forced himself to chew them, though he did not linger on their taste. They were as dry as they looked, and a little difficult to swallow, even chewed.
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Post by Malcolm on Aug 13, 2020 22:42:34 GMT -6
From there, he picked up the knife resting on the stone. It was small, the blade chipped, but something about it made a shiver of dread shoot up his spine all the same.
And now he only had to cut himself with it. Lovely.
But Malcolm had been doing unpleasant things all his life, and he knew best how to force himself to get them over with. The pain was only momentary, and then he had an incision along his arm. Blood gathered, then dripped down to each of the crystals, and the orb.
He set the dagger down carefully, then knelt. Normally it would have galled him to do so before an audience, but somehow this didn't feel like an act of humiliation or obeisance, exactly.
As for the prayer, well... Malcolm wasn't much of a man of the gods.
But he did know what it was like to hunger for power. And if all he had to do was ask... It was easy enough to imagine it was on his own behalf for a moment, and to beseech, even if he didn't know to whom he was addressing his prayer.
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Post by Jack on Sept 10, 2020 21:00:54 GMT -6
Node Creation: Success Cool-down will End: August 13, 2021
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