Scions of Stone: Sept. 25th, 2009 -June 24th, 2011

[Angelique]

Prelude

From the Journals of Xander Rayne:

I have made my way through the Abyssal passage to the far land of Ter Mur, home to the gargoyle kingdom. Their lands and the passage to them, The Abyss, are truly incredible. I have spent time with the refugees in the Royal City. They have fled from far reaches of Ter Mur from Abyssaly infected creatures on the fringes of the borders.

In light of my own investigations, their plight seems much more pressing an issue. Nevertheless it will have to wait until I explore an interesting lead I came across in the Ter Mur libraries. It is an account of a necromancer who once lived in the far northern reaches; by all accounts he was not a gargoyle. He was said to be a creature of devious intellect and odd magicks. I can only hope that if these legends are true, I will find a site that will yield some interesting artifacts to send back to Istas soon. It has been nearly a ten day since I last met with Proffessor Diavolo in my office at the museum, and I am sure she is eagerly awaiting preliminary results as well.

As I sit now in the high plains of the north, a small camp in the shelter of an alcove, I am looking forward to the climb into the mountains tomorrow, to a location that I have cross referenced with a scant number of refugee accounts from this region, indicating that a passage to a deeper tunnel system is rumored to be in this area. The hour grows late, and with one last check over my equipment, I will try to find some much needed rest.

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 1: Terra Firma


A light rain had begun to fall over the rocky inclines and cliff sides of the northern mountains of Ter Mur, bathing the entire region is a misty wet haze. Xander crouched near the opening of a narrow fissure cutting deeply into the rock at a mild slope downward, with his large traveling pack beside him. To his side he had cast off the rope and tackle harnesses that he had used to climb the rock that now stretched hundreds of feet below him. Slowly he ran his fingers up his brow and back, pulling his wet hair from his face and held it back for a moment with his hand curled into a fist; his sapphire eyes continued to examine the narrow, jagged opening.

Beads of water collected and rolled down his thin, form –fitting, katjiti leather suit and he exhaled, letting his shoulder length hair fall once again. The fissure looked to have been an opening at one time, but the seismic activity in this region had broken it apart long ago, leaving only a very narrow shaft of remaining tunnel in it’s wake.

Xander nodded to himself as he whispered resolutely, “tunnel rat it is.”

He turned to his main pack and began gathering his equipment. Lock picks and tools, various vials and pouches, each piece of equipment fitting precisely at a different location on the suit. Wrist sheathes with wire probes, small utility mirrors, and various devices each arrayed where they might be as readily accessible as possible with least movement. Infiltration was an art to the young thief, each new venue and situation one more canvas on which to paint a masterwork. When he was certain all was in it’s place, he stuffed the rope and tackle into his heavy, now empty, traveling pack and situated the pack between several large rocks. He took a moment to cover the equipment carefully so that it could not readily be spotted, as he would have to leave the bulk of it behind. He was grateful he carried no weapons beyond a thin bladed utility knife strapped to his calf. After one final look to the mottled gray skies, he slipped his arms and head in through the narrow crawlspace in the granite, shifting his weight to pull his body and feet in behind him.

The tunnel afforded no more than inches to either side, and he would have to remain flat on his stomach as he crawled. The damp, cool smell of earth and stone surrounded him immediately as he entered. Reaching up to his neck gorget, the young man touched the clasp, and a familiar albeit monochrome hue overtook the tunnel and stretched on several feet into its depths; with the magick of the gorget allowing his human eyes a degree of sight in the lightlessness.

Forearm over forearm, the young man began to crawl forward and down in the cramped space. He crawled for well over an hour down the steadily sloping tunnel, before pausing a moment to reflect on how far in he had come when he saw the first of long segmented legs unfold from behind a slight turn in the tunnel ahead. The leg was followed carefully by seven segmented copies, and a body a little larger than his fist, as the arachnid came around the bend and skittered forward with alarming speed toward Xander’s widening blue eyes. The thief froze, holding his breath, as the first of the legs came to rest on his cheek. He lay perfectly still while the creature carefully crept up his forehead, and down the back of his neck. Xander could barely register the feel of thin chitinous legs clicking down the backs of his calves through the thin leather that covered them, and as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

A shiver ran up his spine as he exhaled slowly, and tried his best to rid his mind of the images of the tunnel spiders that notoriously hunted the lands of Ter Mur. Inhaling deeply once more he reassured himself that though he was no biologist he was rather certain that the lack of ravenous spider attached to his face meant that the passing inhabitant was some other variety entirely.

He nodded the assurance, and began to continue forward once more. Slinking around the bend from which his most recent passerby had emerged, Xander could feel the slightest hint of a draft blowing his direction from deeper within the tunnel. He took this as a good sign that a larger chamber must lay up ahead. It took only a few more minutes of crawling before he came to the opening and peered into the small cavern beyond.

The chamber was small and dropped down ten feet to the floor from the opening. The basalt rock was rough hewn, jagged, though a distinct and more traversable tunnel lay on the far side at height enough that he believed could traverse it in a crouch. Carefully, Xander hooked the tips of his fingers on the lip of the tunnel, rolling out and forward. Gracefully he unfurled himself with his back to the wall out which he had just emerged, hanging by his fingertips, and dropped the remaining few feet to the cavern floor.

As he approached the far tunnel, and could see signs of stone masonry in the tunnel frame, though parts had collapsed long ago. Slowly Xander smiled and quietly made his way into the passage. Worked stone meant he was close.

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 2: Unearthed Arcana

The rocky floor of the tunnel gave way to carved stone tile as Xander continued down its length in a crouch. He paused at the tile, noting the discernable layer of dust that covered the flat surface, sapphire eyes scanned carefully for any signs of previous passage through this section. He detected none, though he continued to crouch and contemplate the twelve-inch by twelve-inch tiles stretching out in front of him. Larger tiling systems in a structure had high potential for trap placement, and considering he was dealing with a Necromancer, Xander remained certain that like any occultist, the previous owner had many secrets to protect.

Carefully he removed a thin aluminum probe from a sheath on his wrist, and with his left hand reached into his belt pouch and withdrew a small brush that he often used to clear debris on artifacts more mundane pursuits. He lied flat on his stomach once more, and began slinking forward, one tile at a time, brushing dust from the crevices between the tiles, and testing each new tile ahead with the probe at it’s edges. Time was a luxury in these instances, and as he had no limit in this situation he thought it unwise not to take advantage. After some minutes of crawling forward on a direct, straight path, the probe slid a bit deeper than it should between the two tiles ahead indicating that the foremost was raised nearly imperceptibly higher than those around it.

The young thief removed the flat probe from the crevice, re-sheathed it, and withdrew two thin wire probes similarly held in the sheath at his wrist. He had always felt a certain degree of cathartic satisfaction when a trapped device was disarmed or bypassed. In this instance, the audible ‘click’ of the gear of the pressure mechanism being carefully removed from its joint plate brought a slight smile to his lips. Carefully he continued on, one tile at a time down the long hall.

It took half an hour to reach the tiered steps at the hall’s end, leading up to a large iron door, with four trapping mechanisms rendered useless in his passing. Xander used a small stone to visually mark the row he had taken down the hall, should he find need to expediently depart this complex.

A quick probe of the lock on the iron door indicated it was not locked, and bore no mechanisms inside the lever lift that would need disarming. Mister Rayne took a small oil flask and thin tweezers as well as several small tufts of wool from various pouches on his suit. Carefully he dipped each ball of wool into the flask, letting the oil saturate the fiber fully, and then meticulously slid the pieces into the door framework along the opposite side from the lock.

Mechanical trap or no, he had not ruled out the possibility of arcane wards given the previous occupant, so once again, erring on the side of caution, the thief retreated several steps and concentrated on the handle lift and whispered softly, “Ort Por Ylem.”

With his left hand he mimicked pressing the thumb lever of the handle, and repeated in a whisper the words of power for a second telekinetic spell, lifting his right hand palm forward and pushed slowly. The heavy iron door responded in-kind, opening inward soundlessly on its newly greased hinges. In a crouch, sidestepping foot over foot, Xander crept into the room beyond the door. He blinked once surveying the room, while remaining very still just inside the chamber. He had not expected the scene that greeted him.

The chamber looked to have once been some kind of reception foyer. But what remained of the blasted and broken furniture was strewn is various directions around the room. Stone tables had been upturned and in many cases broken in on themselves. Centuries-old charred marks littered the walls in quiet testament to the several balls of fire that had made them, and over the entirety of the room a heavy layer of dust had settled, showing no signs of passage in many long years.
Xander relaxed his stance, continuing to cast about the room in relative certainty that he was alone in this area. Across the room from his was another door made of an old, dark wood, with iron hinges and settings. Most curious of all was the debris in the center of the room. The thief tilted his head slightly as he approached it. A stone arm rested on the floor, fingers curled and ending in claws as if poised to strike. The arm had been broken off at the shoulder and a few feet from the arm was a huge bat-like wing folded in on itself. Near the wing rested a stone head reminiscent of the features of a male gargoyle of Ter Mur. Xander imagined that the statue in whole would have been somewhat larger than the gargoyles he had encountered so far on his journey. He wondered silently if perhaps the statue had been destroyed in whatever battle had taken place in this room?

He frowned slightly looking about the room once more, seeing no base on which the statue could have rested. Still wearing the frown, Xander crossed the room to the opposite door, and probed the lock as before with various instruments. Satisfied that it was not trapped, he opened this door inward to another long hall. Two doors could be found halfway down the hall, on either side, and at the end another door stood closed. In piles of stone, two similar gargoyle statues lay shattered in the hallway. Xander glanced back to the stone remains behind him, then to the two new piles of vaguely gargoyle-like rubble once more. In a near whisper he wondered aloud, “golems maybe?”

He decided that when time permitted, he would investigate the remains more closely, but for now he needed to make certain that the complex was secure before devoting his attention elsewhere. The thief explored the hallway meticulously, searching for signs of trapped mechanisms, though he found none, and then moved to each of the three doors, carefully ensuring that none were locked or bore warded securities.

Xander moved to the room on the left first, opening the door telekinetically as he had done with the main entryway door, and cautiously moved into the room. This room had suffered similar wreckage as the main foyer, though it looked to have once been a study or perhaps a small library. Stone shelves that had not been blasted apart still housed piled remains of ashes where books and scrolls had once stood before flame found their dry pages. Evidence of a magical assault marred the walls here as well, and the ceiling was covered in a thick layer of soot where the choking smoke of the fires of so many documents had gathered.

Xander turned to the hall again; deciding he would check the remnants of the library after the rest of the complex had been secured. He entered the right-hand door, directly across from the library next. The room was the ruined remains of what had once been a very well equipped laboratory. Shattered glass beakers with long inert stains of their contents lay strewn across the floor. Several alchemical apparatus were likewise scattered. The center of the room bore a large summoning circle, though many of its sigils were smeared beyond recognition.

The young man turned to the final door at the end of the hall and opened it quietly to a bedchamber. The stone bed frame had survived the battle and wear of years, though its bedding had not. Several shattered armoires and bureaus lined the walls of the small room.
In the back of the room, crumpled in the corner were the tattered remnants of a robe. As Xander approached a handful of charred bones could be seen among the folds, the entirety of which was surrounded and filled by ashes. It looked as though the necromancer had met the same fiery fate as his sanctum.

Xander spent a few more minutes checking the rooms once more and making sure there were no other passages leading from the small complex, before returning to the iron entryway door. He closed the door quietly, and turned the locking mechanism. Inside several bolts slid into place with muffled ‘thuds.’


The young thief spent the next several hours gathering any items of interest he could find as he scoured the complex. Among them were two dusty scrolls from the study, a strange manual filled with anatomical studies of the gargoyle race, and the remnants of a large tome discovered in the pile of remains of the body in the bedchamber. The text of the anatomical manual was written in an odd dialect of elven, that Xander could not translate and bore only aesthetic similarity to the elven languages he did know in modern times. He left the scrolls unopened, fearing that opening the fragile parchments without the proper laboratory conditions of preservation would render them dust like their many lost counterparts filling the shelves. The final tome was charred in places though was wrapped in a serpentine hide, probably dragon, that had saved its destruction when the necromancer had met his end. He left this book, which he assumed to be a grimoire, unopened as well. It would not behoove him to trigger any latent magicks suspended in its pages without proper wards and protections in place.

Proffessor Diavolo would likely have the proper environment with which to study these findings, or at least resources to call upon to do so, he decided. Xander reached into the large belt pouch at his back and removed a bundle of cloth. Quietly he unrolled the small bag, and removed a thin vial filled with a soft blue powder, rubbing it into the cloth surface carefully. The bag of sending was tied to an empty safety deposit box in the Bank of Vesper that he had reserved, and given Angelique a key to open. This method seemed the most reliable to make certain the artifacts were transported with haste, and most importantly without encumbering the young thief on his way back out of the complex. Mister Rayne used several strips of gauze to wrap what looked to be three finger bones among the remains of the necromancer, as well as small shards of stone from the statues of the three gargoyles he had found in the halls. He sent these through the bag as well to the security of the deposit box for Angelique.

When he saw little else among the wreckage of the complex worth investigation, he sat in the corner of the main foyer with a graphite pencil, an unfolded piece of blank parchment, and began making several notations:

Preliminary findings,

Small complex previously belonging to a humanoid creature that was rumored to be a necromancer. Investigation of complex showed signs of a magical struggle long ago. Much of the items and artifacts here were destroyed. Three unusual life size (and more so) gargoyle statues found destroyed, further investigation shows no signs of typical golem construction, or power housings. Uncertain if they are constructs. Stone samples from each sent.

Remains of necromancer found. Largely ash, three finger(?) bones recovered and sent.

2 scrolls sent to you, they are all that remained of the study, and somehow managed to survive the fiery onslaught. Fragile.

An anatomical manual regarding gargoyle physiology sent to you, recovered from the laboratory/ ritual room. Summoning circle on the floor smeared beyond recognition.
Hypothesis: an entity summoned broke free of its bonds and wrought havoc on the sanctum, killing the necromancer. Trapped hallway leading to this complex still retained set mechanisms, further supporting threat from within theory. Language of the manual looks to be a derivative of elven, have not seen it before in any of my travels or investigations.

Will remain here the night, complex is empty, and safer than the tunnels outside. Returning to the Royal City tomorrow. Will return to Istas the day after.

-Xander

The young man carefully folded the note and sent it lastly through the bag to the safety deposit box. He gathered his belongings and removed from the large belt pouch on his back two small flasks filled a volatile violet liquid. Carefully he inserted a flat, sturdy strip of metal in the top of the doorframe of the entryway door, and balanced the first of the two flasks on its end. When the door opened the exploding potion would drop, and while the young thief had no illusions regarding the meager damage it may do to an intruder he was certain the noise would be alarm enough to wake him.

He then moved to the study, closing the door there and setting up a similar apparatus in the upper section of the door jam, before removing the many pouches and tools from his suit. Carefully he laid them next to him and curled up in the corner behind the ruined desk. Sleep never came difficultly after a long days work. Tonight for the young thief, was no exception.

___________

[Angelique]

From the Journal of Angelique Diavolo

*sitting by the hearth cradling a glass of wine in one hand and her quill in the other, her blue silk robe tied loosely around her waist*

I went to check on Xander's deposit box today... I haven't had any word from him and am starting to be concerned, though if new items are found it means he's is well enough to send them. I am more jealous than anything, I sit in class after class wanting to be in the field looking into the history of the Gargoyle and their magick. I keep adding to the new Lexicon I am compiling as I translate scraps of parchment and scrolls that have been unearthed by others; but I have a commitment to my students, and I would expect them to uphold contractual duties if I'd hired them... so I sit in my office and I wait... patience is not a virtue, its a torture...

The words of power used in the magery of Humans and Elves are based on this ancient language... at some point our races must have interacted in the past... but where did we diverge? I've heard rumors of scrolls outlining spells unlike any I've used or seen hinted at. This new mysticism must have evolved after our races parted ways. I can only hope Xander brings some back, I would love to explore this new facet of magick apart from the binding procedure outlined by the Lyceum. Precaution is one thing... but the tedious red tape involved in learning or developing new or unrecorded magick, tries my... patience...

Angelique Diavolo
Oct. 6th, 2009

=====

Chapter 3: Opening the Fissure

There was a knock at the door, breaking into Angelique's thoughts. The Professor of Occult Studies at the Lyceum wasn't expecting anyone, pulling a shawl around her shoulders she got up from the kitchen table to answer the door. Angelique was greeted by the warm smiling face of Xander Rayne, a relief washed over her seeing he was alright. Just a few weeks ago Angel had asked the young Museum Director if he was venturing into the Underworld, and asked if he could keep an eye out for any new magicks when he said he was. A combination of jealousy she couldn't venture herself and gratitude someone outside the Lyceum was taking the chance on finding lost artifacts or relics, hidden knowledge that was laying in wait for the first explorers to seek and find.

“Come in,” Angel said warmly moving out of the doorway for Xander to enter.

“Good evening Professor,” Xander said as he came in out of the cold Istas evening.

Reaching and gingerly touching his arm, Angel asked warmly, “Oh it’s good to see you; you're alright?”

“I'm fine,” Xander responded explaining he was a little scratched up from 'tunnel ratting', but he wasn't keen on using any abilities gained from retainment except for emergencies; that though they could blood heal, he would leave them to heal naturally.

“I get overly worried when I ask anyone to go into a situation I can't go into myself,” Angel replied watching a grin form on Xander's lips.

“I don't recall you asking me to go ma'am,” Xander said grinning, “Nothing would have kept me from that complex,” Xander finished with a smile.

Angelique smiled warmly at him and explained that she was more jealous than she cared to admit after seeing what he sent back to the strong box he'd gave her a key to located in Vesper. Xander’s sapphire eyes glinted brightly as he asked softly, “Everything arrived okay?”

“Aye, all intact, or as intact as it was sent I believe,” Angel responded assuring the Museum Director before she offered him a glass of wine and asked him to join her in the kitchen.

As Angelique selected a bottle of wine the two shared their appreciation for Thyme Aurora, the new caretaker of Angelique's chateau. Xander recognized from the kitchen that Thyme had been in the room. It was comforting to Angel to think Thyme had other friends in Istas and that her stay might not be so lonely isolated up in the mountains of the city. As Xander sipped his wine commenting how he liked it, Angel expressed that just having the smell of Thyme's cooking in the chateau had been a blessing, as she inhaled lightly the aroma of her own glass of wine.

After a moment Angelique turned the subject of their conversation to the business at hand, “The scrolls you sent are delicate, I've not tried to open them yet,” she said in her soft accent.

Xander nodded and looked suddenly serious, “They will require steam treatments,” he offered

The professor smiled and explained she didn't have the equipment at the Chateau but would acquire it for the purpose of reading the scrolls. Then she asked softly, “tell me about the stone, and the bones you sent.”


Xander sipped his wine and adjusted his glasses before starting to explain that the statues were strange, they were solid and dispersed at intervals as thought they were in defense. “I didn't see any bases, or areas where they would have otherwise stood if they were decoration; likewise I didn't see any semblance they were golems,” is what caught Angelique's attention.

“The dimensions look like they were life-sized?” Angel asked.

Xander answered, “They were larger than the gargoyles I met in Ter-Mur.

Angel then asked, “Could they have been pushed to perhaps block something?”

Shaking his head, Xander continued his explanation stating they were shaped humanoid, they had no real dimensions to cover the areas they were found. “I've been thinking aobu tit since the day I discovered them, I know of no magicks capable of such animations.”

Listening intently, Angelique added softly, “Neither do I frankly.”

“I've only begun the rudiments of the gargoyle arcane arts,” Xander replied, “there is a shape-shifting spell... but the form it commands is much more bulky. There is similarly a summons, like an elemental but again, much more rudiment in shape. These were sculpted... literal works of art.”

“There are rumors of a being capable of petrification in the abyss...” Angel added.

Xander nodded to Angelique with some excitement, “I had thought the same.” He took a drink then continued, “The Medusa.”

“Those effects seem temporary,” Angel added.

Nodding again, Xander went on, “Perhaps there is another creature capable? But if so, why was fire used? And the Necromancer...”

Angel concluded, “There is something else at work...”

Xander speculated, “The Mancer was destroyed with arcane fire, the scrolls were all that survived of the study I found,” Xander frowned and sighed wistfully before continuing, “hundreds of piles of ash and dust...”

Angel also frowned and sighed, she felt as deeply as Xander the loss of this Necromancer's library, she offered after a moment, “I wonder if they were warded specifically?”

Xander nodded and replied, “They may have been, I wasn't in a place I could take the time to do preliminary experimentation.”

“I can't read the journal, the language predates my experience,” Angel told Xander

“And mine,” Xander replied with a nod.

Smiling Angelique quipped, “We need an old elf.”

Angelique noted that Xander showed visible nervousness though controlled at the mention of an old elf, he smiled a bit after taking a long drink and answered, “yes, you do.”

Xander Rayne continued, “I am not certain what the scrolls or what I assume is a grimoire may contain.”

Softly Angelique spoke to Xander tilting her head, “I hope to include you in what is found in the grimoire and the scrolls.”

“I would like to be, if I am able,” Xander replied, “but beyond those I found a wealth of other artifacts and magicks on my journey. So I am satisfied for now, even if the things I provided you are Clan sensitive, and I am not allowed to assist.”

Angel's aquamarine eyes gleamed brightly at the mention of magicks Xander had found, she spoke softly with deeper accent as she thought about her own time to visit the underworld, “I am counting the days until winter break and I can go explore myself...”

Xander smiled gently as Angelique told him he'd provided an amazing starting point, and offered to mark a rune to the Royal City as well as the Valley of Tombs for her. Angel explained that she'd been to the Royal City as liaison for the Lyceum, but only had one contact there, that being the museum curator.

“It won't be long before the Academy has a stranglehold there too...” Xander responded then backtracked telling Angelique he meant no offense.

The professor nodded and smiled telling Xander that she understood those feelings well as Xander sipped his wine. “The reason I had you send these items to me privately is so I can keep my explorations of the underworld separate from my official investigations for the Lyceum,” Angel explained.

After Angelique explained her relief at receiving the items from Xander, he detailed how the lands around Ter-Mur were deceivingly vast, that he didn't realize he would be traveling so far from the city when he got the lead. “It took some time to find the location after some climbing.”

Angel hanging on his every word as she described his journey finally said softly, “I hope we can unearth more of the hidden secrets before any 'stranglehold' takes place.”

Smiling gently Xander asked with a grin, “We have plenty of time to do so right?”

Angel smiled sweetly and responded, “Aye... I can see what can be arranged.”

Xander finished his wine and mentioned he was glad everything arrived safely. Angel told him she was grateful and that she would be visiting him with many questions as she unraveled the secrets surrounding the items he sent. Thanking her for the wine, Xander stood smiling softly and bit the Professor a good evening before heading to other stops he had that night.

Once alone, Angel returned to her warded study and began looking over the items Xander had unearthed in the caverns within the mountains of Ter-Mur.

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 4: Sifting the Sand

Angel sat at her desk her eyes focused on a candle across the room when she felt a presence at her haven. The professor had sent a letter to her Seti earlier in the care of his avian messenger, Lucif. She'd items in her possession she was eager to examine, but lacked some essential equipment to do so, her hope in that moment was that he was the one arriving at her door. Angelique let the feel of this presence sit on her before moving, memorizing it wondering if it was the same for everyone or if people each had their own feel like a fingerprint to be identified by.

As Angelique opened the door Lord Azrael was standing there holding her letter; he folded his cap and tucked it into his belt pouch along with the letter as Angel welcomed him into her home. Angel's excitement over her new acquisitions was blatant, she hardly had the Seti in her haven when she was directing him to where she kept Xander's finds; though they didn't see eye to eye on some things, she trusted him being that they both were Kindred, sharing the same manifestation of Giovanni, and slowly were developing a mentor/student relationship. Angel walked to the chamber passing her hand over the ward without hesitation allowing them both to enter her private study.

The Professor thanked him for coming as she offered him a seat, the haste of her speech deepening her accent. As the Seti sat at her desk she turned to her cabinets explaining that she was already committed to the Lyceum for the Autumn Semester before the Stygian Abyss had opened up. Lord Azrael studied her as she told him she'd been unable to explore the new region except for a cursory glance at Ter-Mur as contact was made between the cities Mystics and Curators and the Lyceum; so she had contacted Istas' Museum Director, in the hopes he would be venturing into the abyss in a more exploratory fashion.

While she spoke Angelique withdrew from her cabinet two scrolls, a journal and a grimoire; she gently handled the items with care keeping her gloves on so not to taint any resonance of prior use on the items. Placing them on the desk before the Seti, Angel returned for the final items, a set of finger bones from a corpse Xander found at the site and stone fragments of statues Xander found. Angelique explained that she didn't have the equipment at her chateau to open the scrolls without damaging them; she directed Lord Azrael's attention to the journal as he produced his reading glasses from his belt pouch, perching them on the tip of his nose.

“I've not opened the grimoire, I haven't found a place I feel safe doing so yet,” Angel said softly; “but the journal... I've never seen this dialect before.”

Azrael tilted his head eyeing the scale covered sheath of the grimoire, he spoke softly asking, “where was this found?”

Angel told Lord Azrael what she knew, Xander Rayne had found a small complex in the underworld that he believed belonged to a Necromancer, that the complex had been destroyed except for the items here he'd sent back to her.

Softly the Seti spoke still looking at the grimoire, “use the eyes I gave you... and see.”

Angelique nodded gently and removed the glove from her left hand, focusing her mind she instinctively inhaled as she held her hand over the tome. As she did so slowly hues began to appear around the grimoire, and both scrolls. Indistinct in colour though a pattern was noticeable; concentric ripples encircling each. Angelique noticed that the same pattern surrounded the Seti, though they had a distinctly pale hue. Softly Angel told him she saw a pattern; as she did so within the circles, lines like a jigsaw puzzle appeared in the Seti's aura marred be deep black streaks. In soft tones the Seti explained that it was the mark of a Kindred Magick user, as he reach forward and traced the otherwise invisible concentric ripples around the grimoire. Lord Azrael stated with authority that this tome belonged to a Kindred Necromancer.

Moving from the grimoire to the journal, Angel let the Seti know she felt it was a medical book or biological study. As she looked at it there was no sign of the aura that emanated from the scrolls and grimoire. After opening the journal Azrael arched a brow as he turned the first few pages.

Softly he stated, “Gargoyle physiology...”

After a moment he added, “It is elven... but it is not a dialect...”

Angel offered, “my modern elven is mediocre at best.”

Studying the page carefully Azrael explained, “these are sigilized words.” The Seti explained that each 'letter' contained a word, whose elven letter patterns have been layered. It allowed for more information to be recorded in a smaller space. Each word was in fact a sentence, he looked up to Angel explaining that the page he had been studying described the circulatory system, though some of its information was incorrect.

“Incorrect?” Angel asked

“A surgeon did not write this,” Lord Azrael answered.

Angelique said softly, “this necromancer, wasn't practiced in medicine.”

Showing examples from the journal Lord Azrael outlined that the organs though generally in the right place, their size and proportions to one another was askew. When asked, he let Angel know he had studied the anatomy of countless humanoids. From Orc to Elf and Ratkin. The Seti went on to describe from the journal that the subject appeared to be male though genitalia was not included in the sketches, and seemed to have no importance to the Necromancer. When he paused, Angel explained that she was no surgeon but that she could find the major organs in a body, as they were used by some cultures for divination. Looking down at the sketches Angel paused then spoke quickly again.

“There is something else,” she said.

“Xander found what he thought were statues, stone forms of gargoyles.” Angelique took out the fragments Xander had collected still wrapped in cloth and showed the Seti. “What he found puzzling was that there were no foundations, for them and that when he found them they were arrayed in some sort of defensive formation, but they seem solid, not like golems.” As Angelique looked down at the unwrapped stone fragments she noticed for the first time with her aura perception, that they sparkeled

“I didn't see it before,” Angel said softly as Azrael lifted the piece up before his eyes.

In a whisper Azrael added, “Thaumaturgy...”

Softly Angel asked, “they were animated?”

Nodding once the Seti answered, “in some way... indeed... They were possessed of blood magick”

Angelique looked to Azrael's eyes and said softly, “I am glad this didn't end up at the Lyceum.”

“As am I...” the Seti responded

Azrael set down the stone carefully as Angelique withdrew the last items she acquired from the underworld complex. “I have what remained of the Necromancer also,” She explained

The Seti smiled slightly and looked to her, “the perhaps the necromancer can shed light on these finding... personally,” he said.

“Will a few of his bones be enough,” Angel asked.

Azrael narrowed his eyes as she laid out the fingerbones, “more than enough” he answered.

Angel watched as the Seti's aura changed to one of icy command and disregard for something. As he studied the bones, Lord Azrael became contemplative, frowning slightly.

“Xander described his end as being consumed by arcane fire,” the Professor offered.

Azrael selected the longest of the three finger bones then said softly, “then these are not of a vampire...Curious...”

“From what I was told, something fought its way into the complex, the library was left in ash except for the scrolls,” Angel explained

“Is Mister Rayne certain, that the statues he found... are not what attacked this person?” the Seti asked.

“I can ask him,” Angel replied.

Lord Azrael looked from the scrolls nodding a bit, “I will look into finding the soul, too that once belonged to this bone,” he said as he looked again to the bone.

Angel then asked, “Is there a place in the city I might examine the scrolls?

The Seti nodded slowly as he tucked the finger bone into his belt pouch. “That brings me to our next order of business...”

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 5: Below the Surface

Being asked to teach this semester was a burden on Professor Diavolo, she'd hoped to be deep underground exploring the hidden history and mysticism of Ter-Mer and its Gargoyle population. However with midterms past and into the last stretch till summer break, Angelique set pen to parchment and wrote a note to Xander Rayne; she'd finally found a portion of time to allot to the scrolls he'd found on his journeys into the Ter-Mur underworld.

Smiling she kept the note simple, suspecting the invitation to open the scrolls wouldn't need too much coercion to gain acceptance. Calling Parli from her perch, Angelique handed the hooded crow the scroll case and instructed her to find Director Rayne at the Istas Museum. Angelique patiently waited until Parli showed understanding before taking her to the window and opening it so that the avian could complete her task.

Across the city, the bristles of a soft brush lightly continued their work on the surface of the ancient piece of pottery. Xander’s hands carefully continued to remove the layers of dust from the ancient fragment. His office was warmly lit, with the hearth fire burning brightly in the otherwise quiet Museum of Istas. He peered through a magnifying apparatus positioned over the shard, with his desk brightly lit by several beacon lanterns overhead. It took the young man a moment to drift from his work reverie to the tapping sound at his office window.

Placing the brushes aside, Xander stood and walked to the corner window, unlatching the brightly colored stain glassed panes, and separating them far enough to see the small crow perched outside on the stone sill. Outside, the wind howled shrilly between the stone buildings of Istas, accompanied by the more distant baritone of the same wind knifing through the mountain peaks surrounding the city.

The small crow tilted her head slightly, continuing to grip the leather scroll case tightly in her talon, pressing it to the stone sill on which she perched. Xander thought immediately of another crow that frequented the city, Lucif, messenger of the Seti. This crow however was much smaller, and her markings were much different. With coal gray feathers, like a hood over her head that stretched down her neck, and ended in brighter snow colored patterns. Her wings were spotted with the same hues of snow white and coal gray, with eyes colored a softer gray, like ashes. Young mister Rayne tentatively reached down to take the scroll case. The messenger crow waited until he had it inside the window before abruptly taking flight once more. Closing the window, Xander opened the scroll case and read over the parchment within:

Xander,

I hope the evening finds you well. I am writing to let you know I scheduled time to work on opening the scrolls in the science building tonight and was wondering if you could drop by if you were free. I'd like your input on opening them and what we find.

Angelique Diavolo

Xander smiled and snuffed out the bright work lanterns over his desk, then took his coat from the hook near the office door and set out into the chilly night of the city. The Science Building had recently been relocated to the southern clearing of Istas, not far now from the Museum itself. The renovations of the property had finally ended earlier in the week, and he had watched work crews hauling furniture and equipment into the buildings halls for the passed several days. His feet made a quiet crunch in the shallow snow, as he looked up to the sign further down the street: ‘Academy of Science Obscurae, City of Istas.’ The copper and bronze of the newly moved building sign was illuminated dimly by the nearby streetlamps of the building’s main entry landing.

Xander smiled as entered the academy looking up at the vaulted two-story foyer, and the second floor office balconies just above it that faced out into the entrance. The building smelled of fresh wood and stone mortar, in testament to its newly finished rooms and halls. It took him a moment to notice the figure of professor Diavolo on the balcony above him.

Angel turned to look down over the balcony railing hearing the front doors of the building open. Few other than students or fellow professors at the Lyceum in Moonglow saw her dressed for the work she spent hours occupied with; long deep blue wool skirts and long sleeved shirt overlaid with an apron. Angel had her hair tied up and out of her face, as well as out of the way of any tools she may need to work with to open the ancient scrolls. Professor Diavolo smiled down to Mister Rayne, greeting him warmly, before making her way down to the foyer to welcome him to the academy.

Xander Rayne's bright eyes always seemed happy, he explained that he received a letter regarding opening scrolls and hadn’t bothered to read the rest; his positive nature was contagious. As Angelique welcomed him to the science building Xander said, "you had me at opening." The young man took another look around the entry way and Angelique felt her duty as Dean conflict with her desire to get to work. She asked him if he'd had a chance to look around and when he told her he hadn't she grinned as she asked, "okay, open scrolls or a tour?" Angel already knew the answer as she asked the question, and Xander’s bright sapphire eyes seemed to grin with his lips. Both nodded to one another, deciding curiosity would win out over propriety as Angelique said,” The lab is this way.” She turned with him and headed up the stairs.


Xander removed his gloves as they entered one of the laboratories on the second floor. The room was filled with empty alchemical apparatus including various tools and vials. Cabinets lined the walls filled with assortments of basic ingredients, components, and potions. Xander’s smile broadened as he looked around the laboratory slowly, and asked, “Will anything explode if I touch it?”

Angelique grinned, her accent heavy in her tone tonight as she spoke, “Not that I know of.”

Xander nodded, looking to her, “Good. I had an interesting experience in a magical laboratory some years back, so now I just ask to be sure.”

Still grinning, the young woman looked over the room, “I still have to pinch myself to believe this is all here and available for private use.”

Xander followed her gaze again, “It looks to be amazingly stocked and supplied.”

The young woman was already nodding, “There is equipment here even I have never seen before.”

The young thief spoke softly a moment with seriousness, “I…need to rummage. This will only take a moment.”

Angelique grinned slightly glancing back to him, and nodded, “Perhaps you can handle setting up the mechanical tools needed?”

Xander was nodding as he moved to the nearest cabinet, throwing it open and happily rifling through its contents quickly but carefully, “and you can prepare to handle the wards.”


Angelique laid the scrolls out on the stone table surface in front of her, years of training told her to take little steps, start small and work her way up to more powerful magick or methods to remove the wards. The professor glanced up as Xander mentioned everything he needed was here, and saw him nod to her as he spoke, "but first, warding’s of the arcane variety."

Xander glanced to the scrolls then back to Angel as she replied, "wardings that can go off in my face..." she smiled as Xander happily laid one of the heavy stone work chairs on its side and then crouched slowly behind it.

In near unison Angelique and Xander spoke the words for reactive armor’s elemental protection, “Flam Sanct.” Glancing back over her shoulder she saw Xander crouched down peeking over the chair.

"Don't trust me?" she asked grinning.

"Oh I trust you just fine," Xander replied grinning a little, "It’s the wards I am worried about," he finished as he disappeared once again behind the chair.

Angel began her inspection of the scrolls, finding no runes or glyphs on the outer surface, and only a two-inch square red wax seals.

With her accent thicker than usual, Angelique said, "If you were a ward where would you hide?"

"Where no one could see me," Xander called out from behind the chair.

"Like under the seal?" Angel asked.

"Or invisibly," Xander replied peeking over the edge of the chair at her with bright sapphire eyes.

"Perhaps..." Angel said softly

Angel focused intently on the scroll, adjusting her sight and burning the blood to see more clearly what was present. As the blood discipline of Auspex became active the fibers of the scroll became very defined, though old they didn't look as brittle as to be expected. As she inspected the scroll a soft drumming could be heard, and a quiet whispered sigh over and over. Her nose caught the lightly salted scent of perspiration mixed with Jasmine and hints of patchouli. Nothing remarkable became apparent on the outside of the scrolls; though Angelique could feel a tingling, like all magical items, the scrolls resonated with its presence, there were wards present.

"I think the creator of the scrolls was burning incense," Angelique explained

"What’s it smell like?" Xander asked.

"Patchouli and Jasmine," Angel answered.

Angel heard sniffing then from behind the chair Xander replied, "that's uh... me".

Angelique turned and look over to the chair and Xander peeking over the edge, stray hair in his face, "and your heartbeat..." she said softly shaking her head, "I've been dead too long," Angel finished.

With a smile Xander offered, "You are only as dead as you feel?"

Angel grinned and told him she liked that. He gave Angelique a thumbs-up then Xander crouched again, to the safety of the chair, as Angelique began describing the details of the scrolls beginning with the fact that the ink hadn't bled or done acidic damage to the scrolls. Xander explained that it was beaten papyrus with cypress pulp, a combination that withstood most ink. Angelique noted there were no runes on the outside of the scrolls; nothing remarkable on the outer layer other than the concentric ripples that there was magic present. Angelique explained that the jigsaw pattern of the ripples told her it was a Kindred Necromancer who'd placed the wards.

Frowning to himself Xander told her, "I'm not very familiar with blood magicks."

Angelique replied, “I am just beginning my own study, though if blood magick was used to create them, maybe blood will open them..."

"How did you see the ripples?" Xander asked peeking over the edge of his stone shield once more.

Angelique explained that in her time shared with Lord Azrael, he'd taught her to augment her senses, to see more of what is present. Xander suggested she try more of that and with a grin Angel replied, "in my first attempt I smelled you!"

Angelique breathed in deeply as she focused on the scrolls once more. After a moment she felt the blood in her system activate, and oddly familiar ripples of light seemed to emanate from the scrolls. Interwoven within the ripples could be discerned a jigsaw pattern indicating that they bore enchantment specifically created by the blood magicks of what Lord Azrael called ‘thaumaturgy’.

Angel continued to concentrate on the patterns with Aura Perception, all the while Xander waited quietly behind the stone chair on the other side of the small laboratory. After a time and with intense focus Angel’s aqua green eyes could discern runes seemingly floating just above the scrolls in the same iridescent light. The runes hovered in a spectral sheen, and both were from a magickal language she did not understand.

Professor Diavolo carefully traced each runic shape on a fresh sheet of nearby parchment and turned back toward Xander again as she spoke. “Xander, do these look familiar to you?”

The young man emerged from behind the stone chair; now wearing a bulky pair of dark tinted engineering goggles strapped to his head and covering his eyes, “does what look familiar to me?”

Angelique could immediately perceive the many bright colors roiling around him, with her Aura Perception still active. His energies were bright, very alive, and the colors indicated he was excited, and curious. The swirls and flame-like colors drifted high into the air around him. A new color indicating he was now contemplative as well erupted amid the other flickers of bright lights.

Angelique spoke absently in a hushed tone, watching the many colors, “…that’s amazing.”

Xander nodded, and pointed to his newly acquired protective eyewear. “Right? I found the goggles just sitting there in a drawer back here.”

Angelique smirked and blushed slightly, “No. I meant…the visible change in what you were thinking or more appropriately ‘feeling’ as you peeked over the chair again.”

Xander glanced through the monstrously round and riveted goggles toward the parchment in her hand. “ The runes are elven, if that’s what you meant. It’s an old dialect of some sort. One I don’t recognize from these lands, and the other is a way marker I think, for death. I recall seeing them in a dig site some years back, or at least runes of similar shape and design. That’s pretty much all I can tell.” He was squinting now through the tinted safety glass of the goggles.

Xander smiled happily, his aura erupting in excitement and fear once again, as he quietly receded back down behind his stone chair for protection.

After a long moment of silence, Xander’s voice came from behind the chair, "mages are lazy. Er, no offense, I just mean... usually when they lock something magically, they make it a mechanical dispel. Tracing the rune a certain way..."

After asking how many of the of the people the professor knew were familiar with magic, or had any measure of arcane study and understanding, and learning it was almost everyone; Xander asked how many of them could pick a well made mechanical lock? After a moments pause, Angel thought that at one time it had been many, but now she could honestly answer only two. Xander's voice remained thoughtful as he explained that he found it ironic and asked if it wouldn't be cheaper and safer to just invest in a well made lock-box rather than devote the time and energy to creating magical wards and setting a scroll on a shelf? He went on to state he wasn't complaining, that Arcane folk leaving their things out and about made his job easier... much easier than spiriting away a large metal safe, for expertise to open it elsewhere.

Angelique grinned and told him that she should invite him over to her home one night to show her how better to protect her study; though she stated a little defensively, “I will have you know I have a metal lock box with an expertly designed lock for anything I've also warded.”

"As for the runes..." Angel trailed off; a moment later she repeated his term, "lazy mages..."

A chuckle came from behind the chair followed by Angelique wondering out loud about why ward anything if it was easy to counter the ward. Xander offered that it was the same reason anyone locks anything, peace of mind.

"If I just have to trace the rune, without knowing even what it represents, it could still blow up in my face." Angelique said softly, her accent thickening with her concentration.

"I have located another pair of safety goggles if that would help," Xander offered from behind his chair, his voice though muffled sounded amused.

Angelique giggled softly a moment then paused and turned to him, "ok where are they?"

Xander peaked out from behind his chair and extended his arm offering her the other set with a nod. Taking them and putting them on Angel said softly, "better safe than sorry."

“Exactly,” came the muffled reply from behind the stone chair.

Angelique sat back down at the scrolls and instinctively took a deep breath, focusing her mind on what lay before her; it took several long minutes of studying the patterns, but after a time though Angel didn't know the meaning, a method by which to trace the runes came to her. Lifting her hand the professor cautiously traced the first rune on the first scroll. The rune flared up and faded, leaving the second. Following the same method Angelique traced the second rune and those on the second scroll feeling the magick fizzle and fade she did. With the dispelling of each ward Angelique felt the still unfamiliar draining of blood from her system for the use of blood magicks; however with the wards removed the wax seals detached from the scrolls sliding to the table surface.

“Xander, I think you are safe now,” Angel said softly picking up the seal with her tongs.

Xander peeked up over the stone chair smiling warmly, with the stray hair pinned to his face by his safety goggles.

“Well done,” he said sitting the chair upright again on the floor.

Angel blinked at him then grinned as he pushed the goggles up to his forehead.

“All right... we'll need... a shallow lab pan,” he stated as he began rummaging.

Angel took off the goggles she wore as she helped him gather the items he'd need.

Xander produced two shallow rectangle shaped aluminum pans and after sifting through vials, he selected one containing ether alcohol to create a solution with water. The museum director carefully filled the pans with a measured out amount of water and a measured out amount of ether, then stirred the solution slowly with a pair of wooden tongs, as Angelique stepped to the side watching him intently but out of his way. Angel watched as Xander worked carefully setting each pan on two alchemy burner stands to warm the solution; his aura was bright with precision, thoughtfulness, curiousness, and excitement as he smiled down to his work. Angelique smiled warmly to herself fascinated by the changes in his aura as he worked. The colors ripple and arcane patterns could be seen in them as she studied his aura. Xander wasn't an extraordinary mage, but he was adeptly active with magickal resonance; beyond second or even third years students at the Lyceum.

“Xander, your magick is self acquired?” Angel asked.

“I've learned wherever I can from whatever I can,” he said with a nod.

“I can see your magick resonance,” Angel replied.

Xander instinctively looked down at himself, as Angel laughed softly. Looking back to her with a smile, he asked, “that’s part of the sight you and the Seti worked on I take it?”

Angelique nodded smiling noting a flash of fear ripple through his aura as he said, “Seti.” Tilting her head she watched as he turned back to the solution, continuing to stir.

“I hadn't really thought about using it on people, I've used it on objects almost exclusively.” Angel said

“I love artifacts and whatnot, but people are always more colorful, no matter what kind of eyes you are looking with.” Xander said in turn.

As Xander continued to stir and warm the solution to open the scrolls their conversation turned to the differences in how they grew up; the professor being raised in a closed, tight family circle, where for Xander anyone he came across was potential family growing up. Xander enjoyed people, and it wasn't until adulthood that Angelique found reason to reach out beyond her inner circle.

“I've spent more time with people in my year here in Istas than in the previous five,” Angel said as Xander took the pans off the burners.

“It's what I love most about this city... the solidity on which to stand as a person. You can learn and grow, in a relative sort of safety, one I haven't found anywhere else,” Xander said setting the pans on the stone table.

“Alright, lets open those scrolls,” Angel said with a smile as Xander nodded.

“It will take a few minutes, the reed papyrus will need to soak, the ether will keep the ink from fading,” Xander explained as he carefully took the tongs, lifting each scroll and delicately setting them into the solution.

Angelique smiled at him her aqua eyes shining with anticipation as she watched Xander; he smiled back to her as he leaned back in his chair telling her how great he thought Istas's new science building was. The director in Angel stepped forward telling him about the surgery and other private laboratories contained in the building along with its research archive, meeting room and study area. The Professor completed her verbal tour letting him know there was a ritual chamber on the top floor and that her office was just around the balcony from the open lab they were working in.

“Something for everyone,” Xander said with a grin.

“If you are investigating anything, I don't think there isn't a place for you somewhere in this building,” Angel said with a nod.

Xander looked thoughtful as he studied the pans and softly said, “a place for everything... in this city.”

“Lire for your thoughts,” Angel said softly watching him.

Xander smiled a bit and looked to her, then back to the pans carefully rolling the scrolls to let the opposite sides soak. After a moment he told her he sometimes felt like they were all gears in a machine; that is didn't make him sad, just that it disturbed him a bit until the thought passed. Angelique liked the idea asking him if the machine ran well didn't he like having a role in it doing so?

“I'm still here. And I do enjoy the functionality...” Xander answered. He went on to explain that he supposed it was like seeing something magical, and having the ability for a moment to look beneath the surface to see hundreds of microscopic mechanics, things you don't notice otherwise; realizing its not magical or supernatural... but efficiently mechanical.

“Maybe that's what makes it supernatural,” Xander said as he continued to study the pans thoughtfully.

Angelique shared her own thoughts on it, explaining that every machine needs upkeep, a time when the cogs can get out and experience something other than their role; she went on to share that she found shopping with Thyme a magical experience.

Smiling gently Xander asked, “and if your role is building the machine?” Grinning a little glancing to her he then asked, “what then?”

“Then you keep those magic moments close and often have them come to you,” Angel answered.

Lightheartedly, Xander responded, “I imagine that's why ‘He’ watches.”

Angel tilted her head reading the thoughtfulness in his aura, and then answered in her heavier accent, “I expect you are right.”

Xander took the tongs and looking to her said softly, “I think the first is ready.”

Angel let out a little squeak as she moved closer to him and watched closely as he gently took the end of the scroll with one set of tongs, and slowly began to unroll it with soft brushing strokes with the other tongs. Xander paused after a moment his aura flashed with caution, and immediately Angelique felt another ward on the scroll.

“Xander stop,” Angel said with concern.

Xander nodded his hands calm and unmoving, holding everything in place. Angelique turned her Auspex-attuned sight to the scroll focusing on it; slowly she felt that the ward posed her specifically no imminent threat, but it was active. The Ward seemed inert to her.

Softly she told Xander, “it can tell the difference between us.”

Xander whispered perfectly still, hands still holding the tongs and unmoving, “all I can tell is I'm getting that tingly feeling at the base of my skull, that I usually get when a trap is nearby.”

Angelique moved in right beside him, “its not going to hurt me but its active... its there to stop someone from opening it.” Xander nodded a little and inched to the side carefully extending the tong handles to her. Angel took them very carefully not changing their position on the scroll, hearing Xander exhale slowly as he slowly backed up a step.

Angel heard Xander force a chuckle as he said, “not so lazy a mage after all?”

“You have amazing instincts,” Angel replied.

Xander smiled a bit obviously relieved to no longer be standing at the scroll, “they keep me alive,” he responded.

“Of that I am very glad,” angel said carefully repeating his movements to open the scroll.

It unfurled slowly in the solution, darker in color having been steeped in the liquid, and writing could be seen after a time. The writing looked to be ancient elven, characters Angelique recognized immediately. As she told Xander it was in elven she noticed an odd string of unusual runes around the edge of the page, in a rectangle shape. The ward was present within them, surrounding the main body of text, and there was a large magical circle diagram in the center of the page.

Angel explained to Xander that it seemed to be instructions for the creation of a very specifically designed magical circle, but it would take time for her to discern the notes, as they were not in the form of a textbook. The runes however were very different from the notes, not elven and similar to the runes in the first wards they had removed. Xander agreed that the runes were not elven and he frowned as he told her they made him nauseous.

Angel blinked as it occurred to her that Xander was still a living breathing person, that is what the ward was for; Angel didn't get sick, she couldn't she was dead, the ward had no effect if you weren't alive. Telling this to Xander she watched as he stepped back pointedly looking away from the scroll, watching as his face showed visible relief the moment he did.

“It must be,” Xander said has he nodded looking to Angel, “I didn't see anything on the scroll but the border of odd runes.”

Angel nodded smiling at the scroll, “not a lazy mage at all,” she said.

“I am going to venture that you should open the other one too,” Xander suggested.

“I can hang this to dry so it isn't visible.” Angel told him.

Nodding Xander said, “that would be best... maybe in your office, where you can keep a lock between them and any unsuspecting viewer?” He grinned a little at the mention of a simple lock.

Angelique smiled and told him, “exactly!”

The professor returned after securing the first scroll and picked up the tongs to repeat the process with the second scroll. Xander leaned against the desk behind her his arms crossed his usual smile playing on his lips. As the scrolled unfurled the same border of runes could be seen around the content, which was a large schematic. The first of a stone block, with vaguely humanoid outlines sketched into it. Further down there appeared to be instructions for the creation of a large metal or glass drum of some kind, with various affixed apparatus. Angel explained to Xander that it reminded her of a very large alchemical experiment setup, for equipment.

The cylinders dimensions were rather large, at least eight feet tall, and several feet across. The instructions on this scroll like the other were notes too however, and by no means complete or textbook. It was going to take time to study the schematics in context with the other artifacts to discern what all it was used for.

Shaking her head a moment Angle looked to Xander and told him, “I don't know what you found, but it’s complicated.”

From behind her Xander with amusement replied, “If it helps, I have this extra set of safety goggles...”

Angelique laughed softly looking to Xander's grin.

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 6: Into the Depths Pt. One

*note left at Elysium for Azrael*

Lord Azrael,

An aid has been assigned to my class and not knowing how to occupy her time I've engaged her with preparing my curriculum for the coming semester. I find most of my evenings free and am available at your convenience to open the grimoire.

Angelique Diavolo


*a message returned quickly*

I find the ritual room in the Town Hall sufficiently secure, we shall perform the rituals there if that is suitable. I will meet you there.

-A

___________

I hadn't expected such a quick response, and was very glad I always have my ritual robes and implements ready for use. I quickly stripped out of the clothes I wear to teach and handling them with the respect they deserve I selected a robe in black, one with a neutral connection to myself for meeting with the Seti. This grimoire wasn't mine, opening the wards was something I've little experience with and the Seti's magic shouldn't be influenced by anything personal. It was only a few moments before I pulled my cloak around my shoulders and headed for the ritual chamber in the cities center.

I entered the building and made my way to the warded teleporter that allowed only select members of the city to ascend to the ritual chamber. The room was dimly lit and cold with deep shadows forming around the Gothic architecture. Little decorated the room, it was simply set out with the tools needed for the purpose of ritual. Drapery masked the bare stone walls, red at the summoning side of the room, with a bloodwood altar table and summoning circle. The summoners side of the room was neutral white also with an altar table in a pure white wood and abattoir carved in a white stone.

I stood silently taking in how the room was set up when the Seti drifted from the shadows adjusting the cuffs of his raiment as the semicircular waistcloak dragged lightly on the stone floor. The Seti's ritual attire looked to be made of leather, in a coal black colour that seemed to absorb the light. It was unlike any raiment I'd ever seen before. I felt nervous as he looked up to me, like a school girl I fidgeted tucking my hair behind my ear.

“Sataa,” Lord Azrael said in his soft accent.

“Sataa Seti Azrael,” I said respectfully.

The man nodded slightly looking me over, then nodded again meeting my eyes. I felt awkward, like I was under dressed for a gathering, in my raw silk houpelande. I kept quiet and returned his nod waiting for direction from him.

“Do you have a preferred method by which you intend to breach the wardings?” The Seti asked.

“These kinds of wards are new to me, having only recently begun to work with blood magick.” I answered.

The Seti nodded once and spoke clearly, “then you will assist and do as told...” then he added pointedly, “-exactly- as told, during the ritual, yes?”

“Aye Seti,” was all I could find to answer him with.

He studied my eyes... it is the only explanation I have for his behaviour, not just looking at me, but always studying, seeing deeper than I or anyone perhaps wants him to see; I knew my eyes my very aura would give away my anticipation and curiousness for the task at hand; as well as my intimidation of him. After a moment he nodded again gently.

“The grimoire?” he asked as he held out a gloved hand.

I withdrew the scale skin covered grimoire from my sachel and offered it to him. Taking it Lord Azrael moved silently and kneeled to place it in the center of the summoning circle. I watched intently as the necromancer placed a black tallow candle on the far altar table; he then placed a half skull covered in old runes on the edge of the abattoir, it was hollowed out with the inside brain pan polished. Next the Seti placed an ancient looking obsidian dagger on the opposite edge. I continued to watch the Seti place his implements, he followed with a silver etching of a many arrayed star filled with runes. This star I noted had six points not the five of my own pentacle; and his runes were unfamiliar, not the sharp edged runes taught in the Lyceum these were ancient and fluid, this he placed on a third edge of the circle. Lord Azrael finished laying his ritual implements with a cadecus wand placed opposite the pentacle, I noted the serpent however was inverted. As the Seti placed his wand he looked to me and said a single word, “enter.”

Lord Azrael stood slowly looking to the grimoire's circle as I stepped into his own and stood a step behind him; he explained to me that we would need to form a connnection, so that I would more completely perceive what he was observing.

“You must accept me into your mind... are you willing to do this?” he asked

“Aye Seti,” I answered nodding gently, looking to him.

The Seti turned to face me and rested his hands on my hips as he stepped closer holding my gaze. I instinctively put my hands on his forearms and watched the smooth silver of his mirrored eyes swirl slowly after a moment; the silver swirling filled my field of vision and suddenly I found myself in a room in my mind. I knew immediately it was my mind and my room, and before me was a door. The door was arched, old hardwood ornatley carved, burried in the knot pattern on the door is the letter D. The room had five walls, three of which have similar doors, the floor was flagstone, the walls a stone stucco in deep terracotta. Loudly the sound of a single massive knock surrounded me in my mind and echoed in the room.

Softly staring at the entry door I greeted the Seti, “saluti”.

From the other side... the sound seeming very very far away, “sataa.”

I stepped towards the door and after sliding the heavy wrought iron bold aside I opened it. Looking out into the emptiness there was a fleeting sense of vulnerability that rushed past me like a warning, in the darkness I could see two twin mirrors a far off, but quickly they appeared nearby. Around them from the shadows the Seti's features solidified until he was standing in front of me as close as he was on the material plane, but still outside the threshold of the door.

“Seti Azrael,” I addressed him in a soft accent.

“Indeed,” he responded with a slight nod.

I stepped back from the door and smiled telling him to come in; as he did so I felt a tangible weight, an old power not my own in my mind as the door closed and bolted immediately behind him. The Seti looked slowly about the room then focused on me. As I held his gaze he nodded slightly and told me it was very appropriate. The necromancer stepped to me in my mind as he had in his ritual circle placing his hands on my hips and I gently laid my hands on his forearms instinctively. Staring into his eyes the silver pools began to grow and fill my vision once again, my perception altered from the room in my mind to the ritual chamber we both stood in. The Seti raised his eyebrow watching me as I blinked and then smiled gently to him.

“I remain here,” I heard softly in my mind.

“Do you still perceive my presence in your mind?” he asked.

“Yes, I do,” I answered and he nodded slightly.

Lord Azrael turned from me to face the summoning circle, he reached down and took his obsidian dagger then reached back with one hand for me. He moved my hand to rest on his hip so that I was standing directly behind him; in my mind I heard him tell me to move with him, to turn as he turned. I watched over his shoulder as he made an elaborate pass in front of us both to the north with the dagger while he whispered a soft quatrain. I didn't understand the language but in my mind I could hear “Savara” whispered in echos. The Seti repeated the motion with me following directly behind him, and three more times I distinctly heard “Savara” whispered in my mind. As he finished the lines of the pentacle below us filled with a soft silver, like quicksilver liquid, in the grooves in the stone; which illuminated us from below as he turned once again to face the summoning circle.

From a pouch in his raiment I watched as Lord Azrael took a single humanoid tooth; as he studied the circle his fingers curled around it and I could hear it being ground to a powder in his clenched fist. Once finished he tossed the powder toward the circle, and it seemed to hang suspended in a cloud just inside the summoning circle. There was a jolt in my mind that caused me to blink and stare at the Seti; after whispering another phrase I didn't understand there was another jolt, not painful but it resonated deeply into the corridors of my mind. I opened my stance behind him to brace myself for anything that was to come.

Across the room from us the summoning circle began to glow a soft violet and as I watched two spectral hands curled around the edges of the grimoire, lifting it slowly from the stone floor. I saw the figure of a woman holding the grimoire within the summoning circle. The woman seemed comfused and when she lifted her gaze to look upon us she immediately looked afraid.

“You will obey,” were the words Lord Azrael spoke to her, his voice cold and emotionless.

The temperature of the room dropped as soon as he spoke, and the woman in the circle looked as if she were going to flee with the book. The Seti raised his hand slowly curling his fingers as though grasping something unseen; as he did so the woman lifted a hand to her neck and screamed silently.

“You will obey!” The Seti repeated.

As he did so the woman simply nodded... a nearly tangible defeat emanating from her. Lord Azrael nodded to her once then turned to look at me, his eyes having taken on a warm white glow. He asked me if I'd tried to open the grimoire and I informed him I hadn't; with a slight nod he turned back to the spectral woman in the summoning circle.

“You were chosen because you can touch things in the Lands of the Quick,” he explained to her.

As he did so, a soft whisper crossed my mind telling me to close my eyes. Once closed I heard him tell the woman to open the grimoire and even with my eyes closed there was a bright flash of light accompanied by a blood curdling scream. In my mind again I heard the Seti tell me that there was often a physical component to the opening mechanism... his voice was calm. A moment later he told me I could open my eyes again. The woman in the circle was left with spectral flesh hanging from her skeletal features, and though there was no sound the woman seemed to still be screaming; the edges of the summoning circle looked charred as if by heat.

“Wraith are a cheaper alternative to the resources needed to otherwise bypass a security ward,” the Seti said coldly.

As I think back, I felt no remorse for the woman, she wasn't family and no longer of the Lands of the Quick; my only concern was that she remain contained. She still held the grimoire though now she was on her knees; as the Seti studied the tattered remnants of the woman's flesh he asked her if she could perceive the words on the first page; in a whisper as if her vocal cords had been seared away she told him yes... The Seti asked if she recognized them and with a sob she answered no. The Seti then asked the wraith to turn the pages slowly and carefully, making sure to pause a moment with each turning. What was left of the woman's eyes widened and defeat emanated off her once more as she began to turn the pages slowly one at a time; and I heard him repeat in my mind that I may need to shield my eyes again.

There were three more flashes, each followed by a scream more and more faint until the last flash brought only an echoed whimper before the grimoire fell to the stone with a thud. I was filled with an intense curiosity as I heard rustling and brief movement in the circle. In my mind I was told I could open my eyes and lowering my hand I saw that the tools were gone, and the protective and summoning circles faded away as the Seti waved his hand before the both of us.

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 6: Into the Depths Pt. Two

“Now let us see what we are dealing with,” Lord Azrael said softly as he took the book and sat it on the bloodwood table. Backing away slowly he whispered, “In por,” and the black tallow candle lit, thought it produced no real glow. The Seti raised his hand to the drapery behind the book and as though superimposed on the cloth I could see several sigils slowly begin to materialize in a soft cobalt blue hue. Over and over the words for telekinesis were whispered as he delicately turned the pages of the grimoire from the distance we stood from the altar table; as the pages passed symbols continued to fill the foreground of the drapery glowing gently; seven in all.

“These are the wards present in the whole of the book,” he said.

I recognized one of them from the scrolls I opened not long ago and indicated it to him. Lord Azrael nodded gently and told me to dispel it. The mental connection was still made between us and I felt his trust in my ability to do so as I lifted my hand and traced the rune as before; I felt the cost in blood withdrawn as the sigil shimmered a moment then faded away leaving six remaining runes.

“Well done,” he said and I tried to bury the pride that swelled up inside as I whispered, “thank you.”

The necromancer then held up both hands before him and the background of the drapery filled with scores of runes floating behind the six in the foreground. I watched as the Seti's fingers moved runes to compare and contrast to those from the grimoire. From his mind a clam calculation as hundreds of runes I'd never seen before cycled through my field of vision as he matched three of the six and they quickly vanished; dispelled as though it required no effort.

Lord Azrael touched the three remaining runes, drawing them in closer and dragging them to the side. I watched intently as his hands continued to move, his mind meditative and calculative. Turning one of the runes on its side he matched it with a nearly identical rune. I felt him concentrate and another jolt passed through my mind; the rune faded as the others before it so that only two remained.

The Seti arched his brow slightly studying the remaining two runes.

“Curious,” was his response, “These two... they... resist.”

I watched as he looked down a moment thoughtfully, felt intense calculation from his mind as the background of the drapery filled with hundreds of symbols turned into a myriad of equations. I felt myself biting my cheek as I realized what it was I was really seeing, not actual sigils or equations floating in the air but visible thought forms from the Seti's mind via the connection we'd made earlier.

I blinked watching with rapt attention as the equations began to fade one after another until only one remained. Lord Azrael looked up slowly... “hypothesis: these runes are developed to specifically resist Blood Necromancy,” he said explaining that the grimoire was written by a pure Thaumaturge and that his path and her's were in opposition.

“My power with Blood Necromancy is... substantial,” Lord Azrael stated.

“She was preventing a Necromancer from obtaining the contents of her grimoire?” I asked.

Lord Azrael nodded gently then explained, “so the runes resist, substantially.”

“Yours however...” he trailed off

I frowned and nodded and offered weakly, “not so substantial.”

“Attempt the runes, I will safeguard your equat... er, mind.” he told me.

I raised an eyebrow as I felt a soft hum in my mind, a solidifying of something. Though it remained intangible, I could feel arcane energy not my own as I looked to the remaining runes focusing intently on them. I concentrated until the runes filled my minds eye, and I could turn and twist them observing them from all angles; until I finally perceived a crack in both and I felt a draining sensation. Following the perception I felt my mind grow heavy and there were several dull thuds as though something were hitting a barrier just outside the entrance to my mind. Instinctively I braced my mind uncertain of what would happen next.

From far away I heard Azrael's voice, “do not distract yourself with preparation for injury.”

I felt several more thuds and his voice break away. Turning my attention back to the runes there was a loud tearing sound and a flash, the runes glowed brightly, too brightly to even see their outline anymore. In my mind there was a loud rumble and as quickly as it came, the sound and light were gone; and my perception returned to the ritual chamber where once more Lord Azrael was standing beside me. Looking towards the black tallow candle the two remaining runes faded away.

Shaken I inhaled for the first time since entering the ritual chamber and my sense were struck by the scent of blood, rich and sweet, unlike any vitae I'd ever smelled since my embrace. Turning my head to look for it, my eyes fell on Lord Azrael who was continuing to study the now inert grimoire stoically. Blood trickled freshly from his ear on the side I was standing and lightly dripped to his shoulder. Instinctively I reached up towards his shoulder concerned. Lord Azrael seemingly unaware, arched a brow and said gently still studying the book, “curious indeed, and well done once more.”

My accent heavy with concern I pointed out he was bleeding as I pulled a blue kerchief from my sleeve. “And the blood remembers,” he said distantly a moment, nodding slightly then added, “The grimoire is inert. It will likely need translating."

“It can wait,” I said raising the kerchief; “does it hurt?”

Lord Azrael turned arching a brow at the kerchief in my hand then looked to me studying me curiously though he remained expressionless.

“Immensely,” he said flatly.

“Can I help stop the bleeding?” I asked frowning deeply, the scent of his blood strong as I held in the breath I'd taken.

“No,” came his answer and he looked to the grimoire turning and walking towards it. As he reached the table he explained, “it will pass.”

I lowered my hand crumpling the kerchief following him with my eyes. I noted as he stopped the blood was no longer dripping to his raiment, then moved to stand beside him at the grimoire; inhaling the scent again as I approached studying it. My augmented senses picked up the scent of moonflower and frankincense both saturated with the sweetness of his blood. I steadied myself and looked down to the grimoire, it was written in a notably flowing script, though in the same odd elven dialect that the scrolls were written in. It seemed more shorthanded, more notational and less blocky or textbook like than the information columns on the scrolls. I forced myself to focus as I memorized the scent of his blood in the back of my mind; while I listened to the Seti explain that the grimoire could be translated in time using the manuscript translations he completed for me. As he pulled out two freshly penned scrolls on new parchment from his belt pouch, placing them in the table next to the grimoire; he made a point of saying that it would take more time, but the decision was mine whether I do the translation myself and learn this elven dialect, or allow the Seti to do it and learn the script at a later date.

Looking up to him I said softly, “I'd like to work on it, learning as I work through the contents.”

I thought that I saw as he nodded slightly, that he smiled gently for the briefest of moments before saying, “I thought as much... So I included a basic ciphering of the alphabet and conjugal dialects on a scroll wrapped within this one.” He then touched the first scroll bundle of the two.

“I'd like to consult with you as I progress to make sure I am on track?” I asked then thanked him for all he'd done to assist her; hoping that her eyes didn't betray the affection she felt for his effort.

The Seti nodded once more then turned to face me, he smiled again for a very brief moment studying my eyes again before turning and resting his hands behind his back, and walking towards the shadows from which he emerged earlier... fading into them once more.

In my mind his voice very very gently said, “you do.” Then his presence in my mind brushed around my consciousness and drifted away with him. I hugged my arms tightly across my breasts lingering on the feel of his presence. It was solid as stone, all encompassing, though not uncomfortably so. He fit tightly around my consciousness, in a protective manner. It took a moment to readjust to that ironclad wall fading from around my mind; before consciousness felt normal again. As I collected the grimoire and the bundles of scrolls the Seti provided I smiled to myself knowing I'd not forget this night anytime soon. Tucking everything into my book satchel I headed into the shadows myself and the comfort of my Chateau.

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 7: Ancient Construction

The Controller’s face, for days nothing but the impression of unmovable dead stone, twisted the most slightly to annoyance, as the large bundle of copper and brass metal rods ,wrapped carefully into the protective eel skin tarps, hit the snow, a soft thud sounding out into the night a white powdery mist flying to life and clinging to steel and flesh.

The snow had been coming down gradually even since the Controller, a man dressed in all red, had brought the golem by moongate some several miles away from the base of the mountain, a burden, wasting many precious hours of night, hours he knew could have been used in research, but a precaution was a must, and to the logical mind their was no escaping that hindering truth.


The iron golem loomed above him, the massive arm of metal that had once held the burden now hung out in the air frozen in place like a metal branch reaching eternally. The thing knew something was wrong, its limited capacity would allow it to at least sense that, and its single ruby eye fixed on its malfunctioned appendage.

The Controller, now covered in a soft layer of white, looked at his machine through the red lenses, he knew at once that the oils and lubricants had frozen in the artic like conditions; he had not yet time to take the steps to convert many of his golems and other minions to winter climates of his new home.

He made a short gesture to the golem’s other arm, the things understanding, reaching out with its still good arm to retrieve the fallen bundle, the sound of metal joints rubbing singing out. They started again up the mountain in the snowy darkness like shadows, casting no light for them to see by, not for caution of being seen, more that neither needed such to navigate this snowy pass.

His mind worked quickly thinking more like a machine then as a man, the designs for the Professors schematic, a device that if functional had untold potential, had taken priority over the stacks of other rudimentary research, now the man’s machine mind saw only the concepts, the improvements, the numerous calculations and variables to consider which where at first glance, monstrous.

But machines don’t fear monsters, and he thought on as a machine, numbers and questions mixing, chemicals and equations merging; he had labored long at it, and there still was work to be done but like a machine he had constructed piece by piece, delivered in dark the materials form the numerous exodus supply areas.

He needed power now, and a storm of significant strength had not yet brewed and reached the mountain top, but it was the season and the Controller knew it was only a matter of time before lighting found the shadow-iron rod and brought the machines in the darkness of the Chantry to life, constructions of cold logic and iron, constructions which would allow the Controller to complete the Professor’s schematic, and beyond that the scrolls and scrolls of dark research that dust now clung.

They reached the valley; he knew it would only be a few moments before a floating unit came to meet him and the machine of burden that loomed next to him, but his eyes where already seeing beyond the world in front of him numbers and questions filling the space behind the blood red glasses.

___________

[Angelique]

*a letter on fresh cut parchment written in india ink with a quill pen; the dry letter sealed with the letter "D" in red wax*

Angelique now lived a stones throw from not only the Elysium offices, but Nocturne also; still there was a warm feeling on this cold night, whistling for Lucif and having him take the leather scroll case to his master... Angel stood on her balcony and watched as Lucif launched himself into the drizzle making the momentary flight to his destination, satisfied her letter would reach the Seti directly.


===========

Lord Azrael
Elysium Offices
City of Istas, Malas

Lord Azrael,

"I make bold to write to you as we have not met..." Its been many moons since I penned those words seeking a safe haven from the unknown. As I look back over my time in your city I see your hand guiding me, I have better vision in hindsight it seems, I rarely see it at the time. What did you see in a fledgling Giovanni lost in a world of Kine?

As Samhain approaches again, and the anniversary of my arrival to Istas a lot has changed. Lady Do'ghym and I have concluded business that puts the Chateau into my ownership; I am the owner of my haven. This Autumn semester I took over as Dean of Occult Studies at the Lyceum in Moonglow. This is new territory for me as no one in my family has held this position since my Great Grandfather. I am grateful to be teaching less, as it has afforded me more time to work on the project in Istas.

The project is proceeding nicely, I have commissioned Zarseph to use the schematic to build the ritual device at the Chantry. I hope to meet with him soon to see how its coming.

I have completed the translation of the grimoire with your primer and the translated scrolls. I can't say that I am anywhere near fluent in ancient Elven, however I am comfortable now working my way through the pages of the grimoire.

I've kept Director Rayne up to date on what we've uncovered and he mentioned to me a report he sent to you some time ago regarding a Gargoyle named Avalon. There was something about phrases she used to describe herself that makes him think that she may be the product of the ritual we've uncovered. When I met the woman I noted her odd markings, and silver talons, unlike the Gargoyle that come from Ter-Mur. I'd like permission to speak to her about a possible connection to our project.

I've begun to collect the components of the ritual and something isn't sitting right with the requirement of Dragons Blood. I'd like a chance to speak with you about its reference in the rituals outline and your advice as to how to collect it. If you are able fit me into your schedule please let me know.

Sir, my experiences in Istas over the past couple years have been both rough and rewarding. More than anything though I am eternally grateful you took me in. Thank you just doesn't seem to be enough but is all I have to offer.

Sincerely,
Angelique Diavolo
Chateau Istas
City of Istas, Malas

___________

[Angelique]

Azrael could feel Lucif’s expectation as his crow messenger landed on his and the Setess’s personal balcony at the Elysium Office building. The Seti rose from his desk and moved to the rear of the dimly lit office, to the heavy steel door leading out to the cold balcony. He whispered a word to dismiss the ward momentarily and then opened the door. Lucif flew inside and lighted upon the vampire’s shoulder, offering the small scroll case he held in his beak, then immediately began to preen the cold droplets of mist from his feathers.

The Seti closed the door and turned once more to his desk, crow-on–shoulder, and opened the scroll case to read the letter.

Azrael arched a brow only slightly, and then inked the pen sitting not far from him on the cold stone desk. Sitting pen to fresh parchment, he began writing:

Angelique Diavolo
Chateau Istas
City of Istas, Malas


Professor Diavolo,


Hindsight for our kind can unfortunately be a curse more so, perhaps, than any mortal could ever know, for we are doomed to look back for a very long time indeed. However, your time here in Istas, has been well spent thus far. Though not without it’s hardship with the loss of the last of your mortal family. You have shown resilience in enduring.
It is likely the most important aspect of unlife: endurance.

What did I see in a young Giovanni?

Potential.

All of you, mortal and Kindred alike, living here in Istas are intricate equations of infinite potential. Each equation continues to develop and shed variables, but as each of you do so (and with careful tending) the potential you possess to bring advancement to this city and to the Setess and I increases exponentially.

Each of you possesses singular expertise and talents. Each of you continues to be chosen carefully…The Equation, is a careful balance. And each of you continue perform beyond expectation, time and time again.
Your personal accomplishments far exceed your own expectations, if I remember correctly. Your haven, your unlife, and the mortals and Kindred you have already built into it. Let the Hallowed Eve then, be a marker for you. You have accomplished much in a relatively short time. You will accomplish more, much more, as the amount of time for your existence nears an infinite variable, and you begin to truly see existence in a frame of mind of decades, and then centuries.

I am pleased to hear that you have sought out Zarseph for assistance in what is becoming quite an experiment indeed. His background, and more importantly, his analytical frame of mind are well suited to the subject. His talents are singularly and specifically suited to the physical aspect of the maintenance of the alchemical portions of your endeavor. I am pleased with what he too is already accomplishing in his short time in Istas, since his Introduction to Setess Zendra and I. Trust in his calculations.

In regard to Avalon…

I left you, professor, in charge of the operation and culmination of these experiments. The choice to involve those you deemed necessary for it’s success was also specifically an aspect I left in your hands. If you believe she will be of assistance in the project coming to successful fruition, then you already have my answer.

However, I might offer a bit of political advice. When you seek Avalon, seek first her charge, Lady Izznet Hunar, and explain your expectations and desire to involve her servant, Avalon. Lady Hunar has already been in contact with the Setess and I, Introduction has been made to us, and her Domain is recognized. Follow the protocol of Domain in any dealing you have with other kindred, and in this case, since those in question are indeed already of our kind, Masquerade is not an issue. This may seem like an unnecessary formality, since your intent is of beneficial arcane and scientific co-operation with Avalon, however, I assure you, these formalities are what separate us from the ravenous predators within each of us.

The preservation of Order and propriety above all things.

On a separate note, your mention of Dragons blood, and something you have found in error should be further studied. I will await your analysis, but indeed, I am highly doubtful that the experiment involves actual vitae from a species of serpentis rex.

In all that each of you are and continue to become, I am thanked. Do not forget that…

Forgetting will produce, very, negative results,…I assure you.


Carpe Noctem,

-A

Quietly, Azrael rolled the parchment and inserted it into a small silver scroll case. Lucif hooked his beak in the small semicircular wire, made specifically for him, and turned expectantly toward the door. Azrael rose and whispered softly to the crow, “Professor Diavolo.”

Azrael felt recognition from his retainer immediately, and opened the door, watching as Lucif took flight once more into the cold drizzle of the first of many winter storms. The Seti closed the door, locking it behind him.

___________

[Angelique]

*written on freshly cut parchment in india ink*

It was some time in coming but the bond and trust between Parli and Angelique had blossomed into a strong working relationship. The hooded crow now understood the difference between the different whistles used in Istas, was able to take visual cues as well as directions for her destination, and was familiar with the means of traveling to distant areas to deliver messages for her reagnant. Angelique no longer questioned the ability of her messenger. Standing on the balcony off her office at the Lyceum in Moonglow she watched as Parli disappeared into the night sky with scroll case hooked securely in her beak.

===========

Lady Izznet Hunar
House of ^V^
Northern Yew. Trammel

Greetings, Lady Hunar

My name is Angelique Diavolo, and I am a researcher of Science Obscurae and Dean of Occult Studies at the Lyceum in Moonglow. My primary area of study for the past year has been the new forms of Magick found in the abyss and the lands of Ter-Mur. The Artificers and Sages among Gargoyle Kind have been very generous in the sharing of knowledge but there is much they too have lost to history.

In my study, I've come across some unusual references to Gargoyles that none of my colleagues have an understanding of, though few if any have met your charge, Avalon. I have only met her briefly but the Director of the Museum in Istas, Xander Rayne, mentioned speaking to her more frequently and has put me in contact with you. With your permission I'd like to interview your charge at her leisure, regarding these references and am willing to make compensation to you for the opportunity.

I can be reached at my office at the Lyceum and look forward to corresponding with you further regarding this matter.

Professor Angelique Diavolo
Office of Science Obscurae
The Lyceum, Moonglow

*The scroll is sealed in red wax*

___________

[Angelique]

*A note written in long elegant script addressed to Professor Angelique Diavolo*

It is with good tidings that I receive your note. Avalon will be most eager to assist you in whatever manner she is able.
She has spoken of your director upon occasion so I know she will be happy to see him again.
Regards
~*~

[Angelique]

Excerpt from the Journal of Angelique Diavolo:

===========

*sitting at her desk in her study beneath Chateau Istas Angel, dressed in her ritual raiment sits at an antique roll-top bankers desk*

I had to wipe dust from the cover of my journal tonight, have I really been so preoccupied that I've neglected recording my own thoughts on the experiment I've been engaged with? I don't remember a time when I've been so engulfed in the enjoyment of a project, not since working with Father in the field...

I've notes a plenty with regard the ritual, I guess perhaps they've taken the place of my writings here. I haven't really stopped to think about what I am feeling or what I think about the project. I've been concentrating on preparations and understanding of what we are doing. My ancient Elven has improved a great deal with the Seti's key and my taking the time to translate the rituals grimoire myself. I don't know that its of much use in daily practice but I am pleased to have another tool to use in my search for magickal understanding.

I am also pleased in the contacts I've made in Istas. Director Rayne's introduction to the Gargoyle Avalon was a blessing. There are magickal summonings that work for Stone, she is proof of one such ritual. I spoke to her at length with the permission of her mistress Lady Izznet Hunar. Though made from stone she is alive, she eats and drinks and serves her ward. We touched on my findings and the use of Vitae, her own summoner has protected her from its need; Avalon likes apples... I miss apples. There was a time Gargoyle like her were summoned from a mountain to serve as guardians, and from what I read in the scrolls and grimoire, the ritual I am preparing is similar, to summon from stone a guardian for the summoner. Though I have no real need for a guardian, eternity I think would be better spent shared than alone.

Zarseph has the apparatus constructed, and I've collected most of the components, we are almost ready to begin. I need to consult with Lord Azrael about the matter of Vitae from Serpentis Rex, it makes me smile seeing it in writing, I've never considered Dragons as such but it is fitting. Soon I keep telling myself... soon we will begin and see the fruits of our efforts.

My family is growing and it makes me very happy.

Angelique Lizbet Diavolo
November 14th, 2010

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 8: Powering Up


As he stepped back once more, the slow realization of limitation once again crept unwanted back into the Controllers calculations; but behind the crimson monocles the dark eyes never left the portly spike of shadow iron that grew from the chantry’s flattened rooftop. Deep below though his ears could not perceive, he knew his clockwork constructs would be busy pushing the great handles of the turbine in an endless wheel. He knew many would not survive the strain of the task, but such where the calculated risks and risks well worth the gain in the logical mind.

The thought was interrupted as his eyes narrowed; the faintest flue hue had begun to form atop the great spikes tip. Much time and resource had been spent in the calculations and labor to construct the lightning rod, and even more so spent in the lining of conductive metal wires, some as thick as his arm, under the special tiles of the Chantry’s floors. All though he calculated where necessary, for holding to a minimal standards of the Exodus research code was necessary without question, especially is such would heighted the threshold of his researches success.

After laboring calculations he had estimated this very night to have the highest probability of drawing a strike of raw energy, energy he had intended use for, down from the eternal fall of snow. Below he knew every ounce of power within the crystals of his constructs where now pushing forward for such an end.

The air was growing heavy now, a rippling tension as the heat slowly emitted from the great spike, and to the logical mind’s disapproval a tinge of raw emotion wormed itself into his mind; fear.

Of all the adjustments he had had to make after acquiring this new condition, this one had always proven the most hindering in the arena of research. This heightened emotional state which could only be described as a manner of phobia of fire. He understood and had adapted to his bodies tendency to act as tender to the flame, but the emotional fear that came with it had always proven more the burden then the burden itself, and now as the energy in the air grew and the certainty that his calculations would be correct and a strike of raw energy, hot burning energy, would soon rip down toward the rod sent the chilling image of him combusting into ash, his undead shell burning as parchment thrown to the flame.

“Illogical” he thought slowly, focusing his mind once more to the great lighting rod; he had taken time to study these limitations, he knew his percent chance of not combusting from this distance where within acceptable ranges. Though the numbers he knew, never the less he once again took another step back.

Before the sound of the fresh snow crackling under his boot step could reach his ear, the world turned white.
He did not scream or jump at the suddenness of the lightning bolt ripping through the air crashing into the great rod sinking into it, the air rippling in violent vibrations as the entirety of the lightning rod glowed in blue brilliance. He felt the fear in him again, his body aching to turn and run to the teleporter, anything to be aware from the terrible source of heat, and for one moment of dismay a single leg lifted slightly as if to turn.

“Down” he muttered softly, though as the words left his lips, it twinged in the faintest of frowns at the absurdity of speaking to one’s own ligaments. As the waves of fear seemed to bellow upwards form his chest pushing their illogical perceptions into his waking mind. Slowly he focused his mind, his eyes fixing on the power crystals that lined the base of the lightning rod, an eagerness filling their usual void. He would not allow himself to depart in till he confirmed the activation with his own eyes.

As is the nature of lighting, the seconded after the initial strike and the air was once again clam, the snow resuming its continual flow to the Istas’s floor. He breathed in deeply, feeling the cold air rush into his now cold body, though he knew this action was not now necessary, but only a lingering habit of a lifetime occupying a living body. Dread filled his chest, it seemed tonight would be an oddly emotional one for the stoic Controller, his eyes focusing harder at the still dim power crystals, as if the power of will alone would continue the process.

As soon as the seed was planted it was promptly erased away, as the sound of an electrical ripping filled the air above the Chantry, a vibration emitting from the base of the great rod, and as the beginning of a red hue lifted from the power crystal’s cores, a faint smile crossed his lips. It was like watching flowers open for the sun come mornings rays, the blooms of red and white energy slowly raising from the crystals to linger in the air above them, continually sinking and swilling upon itself forming what appeared to be living blobs of light atop each of the crystals.

A moment later his eyes shifted to the ground as he felt the roof shake under him, the loose snow dancing around his boots, he knew this would mean the sub-generators in the various levels below him where coming to life as well, including the one which would give life to the incubation chamber for the Professors upcoming experimentations in life-giving. More than that, most of the tools from Exodus had been denied to his use without continued power, now such tools would once again be capable of prolonged function, and as that notion both came and passed the smile which had lined the Controller’s face slowly faded away, returning the face of the logical being to that of eternal stone once more.

“Activation, complete.”

As he turned slowly towards the teleporter, the sound of crunching fresh snow echoing into the valley; his mind moved to the new compounds and sedatives he had been wishing to induce to his specimens, there was also need to make sure the powered bone saws and other such devices where working to optimal standards, and of course there was always the need for dinner. As the air hissed and the red spark emitted as the magic ripped the Controller to the lower levels, his mind slowly started the calculations needed to satisfy all the afore mentioned, simultaneously. It was looking like it was going to be another productive evening for Science.

___________

[Angelique]

Excerpt from the Journal of Angelique Diavolo:

==========

*laying across her bed in the Chateau in Istas Angelique writes as she waits for Perrin to come home*

Thyme is asleep, her mind in a happy place, though she is nestled away a floor below me I can almost hear her breath, her little snore the only sound in the house. I feel her more strongly now, and she me when I allow it. I don't want to overwhelm her with my craziness too soon... The pieces fall into place if you let them; "don't make things more complex then they need to be Bella..." Jacques would tell me. Thyme fits in, Perrin adores her as much as I do, and though I can sense some jealousy from him on occasion, I have been able to quickly wipe it away by adoring him.

My classes go well, the difficulty the Archmagister predicted with the Council of Mages hasn't as yet come to fruition. I can hope it never will, but Militant groups never keep to themselves for long. Perhaps they have more to keep them occupied than any of us are aware. Magincia has been invaded yet again, demons... the Bane Chose and now blackrock Elementals. Will it ever cease? I long for a day I can fullfil Jacques wishes and rebuild the coffee house he used to frequent with other heads of our family. Bonito Pentangeles has also sworn to his Nonno to rebuild it when he is able, I met him in Vesper and we spoke of the legacy of our grandfathers. Bonito says there is one other still living of our gaggle of children, Albere Bepo has moved to Minoc, changed his name and is living outside magick circles. How the mighty houses have fallen...

Not mine! Mine grows, the Diavolo will live on forever. I am so close to starting the ritual I can hardly wait. Zarseph has powered up the device that will house the experiment, its ready for us to start. Lord Azrael visited me and Thyme over the Winter Solstice and sculpted the stone Thyme quarried out of the Istas Mountains for us to created Crios... I already think of him as my childer and he is only a statue adorning my craftroom. Crios'Lap, Gargish for Bloodstone; all that remains is for me to get the quantity of Tzimisce vitae... the last component needed for us to begin the ritual and awaken him from his sleep in the stone.

All our work and preparation will soon pay off!

Angelique Lizbet Diavolo
February 12th, 2011

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[Angelique]

Journal Entries for the Week of April 15th, 2011 - Apriil 22nd, 2011


Night One:

Perrin drew my bath for me tonight, measuring the natron salts and myrrh. After years of living with me, he knows my nightly procedures as well as any practicing ritualist. Tonight I will activate the circle and move the statue of Crios'Lap into the apparatus to begin the ritual. So much can fail... but a lot more can be gained.

Angelique Diavolo
April 15th, 2011

PS. It was a success, the first night of the ritual went well.

I picked up Avalon at the Library and took her to the Chantry, Zarseph and I explained the apparatus and its function, then I conducted the first night's tasks. I only hope the coming nights go as well.


Night Two:

It's just Zarseph and myself till the end of the week. I entered the circle using the command word and added both a measure of my vitae and that of the dragon, resulting in the barium solution becoming clouded by the vitae. I then added a bonding agent, a measure of enerofurite.

I gave the statue its name while in the circle, Crios'Lap in the tongue of the gargoyle from Ter-Mur it means Bloodstone. If this works that is what he will be. After intoning the quarters and intoning Crios' name there was a reaction in the tank. The solution turned ebony in hue, opaque enough to obscure sight of the statue within. The glass is now warm to the touch... I can only speculate as to what is happening. I exited the circle with the command word and came home to not my observations.


Night Three:

Zarseph was busy checking the apparatus when I arrived, I am comforted knowing he is here with our creation when I am not; however I will feel a deep regret should something fail and he becoming a victim our the ritual.

We have no real need to speak... a nod from Zarseph and I know... I trust that everything is in order. This controller is not family, or is he. He is a member of this clan... Have I so completely traded family for clan?

I entered the circle with my command word and followed the steps outlined in the ancient scrolls. Nothing happened...

It wasn't until I intoned the quarters and used his name again, intoning it that there was anything to note. The room dimmed as the apparatus drained power from the crystal grid Zarseph had created.

Like my predecessor from all those years ago I can only hypothesize that the reaction is metaphysical, that intoning Crios' name activates the vitae; like a summoning ritual. When I open my sight with Auspex I can see the magical reaction slowly building in and around the chamber.

Then it happened... I almost killed all three of us. In my excitement I almost left the circle without using my command word.

I can't believe my mistake.


Night Four:

Again tonight there was no notable reaction from simply adding the vitae, the catalyst for reaction is activating the circle and intoning Crios' name. Tonight the liquid in the tank changed hue from ebony to cobalt blue, the blue matched my raiment. I can now see the shadow of a figure within the chamber and with Auspex can see that the magical reaction remain steady, the aura having grown brighter. The glass is warmer the temperature of a mortal man. The blue is odd seemingly like liquid sapphire.


Night Five:

With a nod from Zarseph I entered the circle and added only my own vitae to the tank tonight. After intoning the quarters and Crios' name the solution in the tank seemed clearer... like the vitae had been absorbed into the stone perhaps. The magical aura showed the process to be continuing but there was something more.

As I turned to leave the circle there was a pull from the tank... or maybe in my mind.


Night Six:

Tonight my vitae did not cloud the chamber's solution, the stream of my blood could be seen trailing through the barium solution to the eye, nose and mouth of the stone figure contained there.

After intoning the quarters and his name I could feel a consciousness in the tank, like that of a child... its him, its Crios'Lap. Then as I was leaving out of the corner of my eye... did I see movement or was I hoping to see it?

___________

[Angelique]

Chapter 9: Becoming

I hovered on the verge of awaking a long time tonight, in my mind there was a presence, alert, calm, crystal clear. In my mind I caressed this new presence in awe of it, knowing who this was without having met. Criso'Lap was conscious, he was awake and waiting for me to bring him home. I couldn't help but smile, I felt pride in our work, happiness at claiming a new bond and member of my house. Perrin kissed me, I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me, his own eyes dark and enticing.

"Buona sera il mio serpente dolce," he said in a whisper.

"Buona sera il mio camminatore dell'ombra," I whispered back.

Perrin too was bound to me, I felt his feelings, heard his thoughts; three now, were present in my mind. Thyme was busy in the kitchen preparing a meal for Perrin and herself, and patiently Crios waited, he knew I was coming.

I greeted the night with Perrin as is our custom, then we dressed and joined Thyme in the kitchen. My Elven caretaker never seems to rest, it makes me happy to watch Thyme and Perrin tease each other; I hope Crios fits into our family just as tightly.

I left the Thyme and Perrin cleaning up from dinner, pulling a fur cloak around my ritual robes as I left to meet Avalon at the Library All the while Crios waited, his mind was still though he was aware of me. He seemed outside of time as if for him time hadn't begun to pass. Avalon and I walked from the Library to the Chantry where the equipment that housed Crios'Lap was set up. We met Zarseph on the second floor, he was busy checking dials, ensuring the device was working properly. Now that we were all here it was time to finish what we began a week prior, to release Crios from the chamber and see if he can survive on his own.

I entered the circle using the command word, once Zarseph told me were were set to proceed, I charged the quarters and in my mind Crios responded with his name from within the chamber. I excitedly told Zarseph to begin draining the tank and watched anxiously as the gears and mechanisms began pumping the fluid from the tank. Crios was on his knees, naked the stone he once was now soft, moist flesh though retaining the mottled granite appearance of the stone he was carved from. I helped him to his feet and like a newborn he wobbled learning to stand. I banished the circle and helped him out into the room, only to feel pain from him as he crumpled to his knees as wings erupted from his back. It was amazing, his wingspan almost as wide as he is tall; the flesh on his back repairing itself as if by blood healing. It was an hour or so before Crios could walk on his own and in that time I sensed from him a constant soaking in of his environment, fresh imprints on his mind.

The whole while the one thing I never sensed was fear or shock, he simply absorbed and adapted as time passed. When Avalon approached him he reached out and touched her cheek from him I sensed that he recognized himself in her. Both summoned to watch over their charges. Crios expressed himself mostly with his hands at first, it took a while for him to find his voice, soft and low toned, like sand sliding down a mountain side. Avalon and I agreed that Crios and she would spend time together so that he might know he is not alone of his kind. The manner of their summoning may be different but they both were stone made flesh.

A quick movement from Zarseph triggered a protective response in Crios, he immediately spread a wing to cover me and pull me to him. Instinctively he guards me like Perrin and Thyme, the bond is strong between us. With Avalon's departure, Zarseph and I conducted a final exam of Crios to make sure he was intact and stable. I made arrangements with the Chantry owner to bring Crios back so that together we could track his development. Once we were assured that Crios was fine, I brought him home to the Chateau. Thyme was in her room though I could sense she wasn't asleep. Perrin was out of the city for the night so I took Crios to his new room and got him settled. I then showed him the rest of the house and where he could find me when he needed or wanted me. I am not sure what I expected of him, but I was pleasantly surprised when he perched on the corner of the chateau balcony, crouching down like a statue and cleared his mind to observe.

I watched him for a long while, burning the blood to view him with the augmentation of auspex I could see a constant aura of magick from him. Crios mind was quick to focus and his reactions swift as he seemed to absorb his new surroundings learning almost via osmosis every nuance of the night in Istas. In the darkness I couldn't see him turn his head but I felt him look upon me and sensed the affection of a retainer from him. I left him and went to sit in my private quarters while communicating with him in our thoughts. Crios needed to know the small details that effected his existence and at three hours old we began his education in the unlife of a Kindred and all that it entails...

[Angelique]

Chapter 10: Achievement

In life he had slept at his desk, the necessity of having a separate chamber dedicated to sleep seeming irrational, undeath had not changed this habit, and so for the past few nights he had found himself watching the construct grow within the incubation chamber, soaking and turning in the fluids which where to grant it life.

The Professor had come each night at exactly the same time, the rituals to renew the metaphysical qualities of the substances had gone smoothly each time, and to his examination and calculations the incubation chamber was holding up the the pressure adequately.

The desk was gone now, moved from the front of the Incubation chamber not to renew its substances as the week before, but now to give way to the ritual which would endow stone with life. To bring the insentient into the sentient.

He watched as the Professor spoke her words of power, as the alien juices moved and glowed around the statue of stone, the Ritual would soon come to a it's conclusion, for success or failure.

He had his doubts.

Within his mind he worked the strange calculations through and was self-made over the years by the Controller order, cautious of metaphysics and alien concepts. He had seen the stone soaking up the vita, a substance that could transmute great amount of power he knew, but when calculated to the probability of greeting life, it had always come up short. Numbers where the symbolic incarnations of the worlds reactions, and the numbers simply where not in the Professor's favour.

And then it had opened it's eyes.

The Controller had seen many eyes in his life, peered into those unwilling to submit to his tests and those of minds greater still then his in passing of their knowledge. This was not the eyes of a dumb thrall, a creature created by mis-foiled magic, nor to wildness of a predator trapped, this was the eyes of sentience, of reason.

The tablets that held the many fold complexities of his calculations, cracked, his theory dis-proven, and with the destruction of theory never came only the smallest gain of knowledge, and the greater gain of question.

It had spoke, its words echoing out into the chamber, words understood, words reasoned within and projected out. He had never even began to thing it would have such capacity, that the power of vita could grant such in depth knowledge into a creature so freshly born.

He found himself working the levers and buttons of the incubation chamber, there was many things which needed to be done to insure it did not fall apart in the aftermath of its first success, the entire time though has hands moved, the mind moved elsewhere.

Schematics and numbers forming, ideal and theory to be tested.

And then it was his time to great the creature he had helped the Professor being forth into the world. He had introduced himself and his position with the Exodus collective, his eyes moving behind the red lenses, marveling at the movement of once ridged stone, to now flesh like grace.

He had to make sure.

He stepped forward, one of his leather gloves slipping off, finding it's way under his robe. The dry hand, like sandpaper rubbed over the stone surface of the Gargoyle.

He closed his eyes, his mind reaching out through his finger tips, probing into the stone body that now stood enlivened .

He could feel the pule of vita, the power that fueled him and the others of his kind, the stone was saturated with it, though different from his own, he could feel it never the less dripping in ever pore, changing the stone from immobile to mobile.

He pulled his hand away, the glove finding itself back upon its home.

The Professor and her creation had left him then, left in the darkness of the chantry in the shadow of the now used and empty Incubation chamber.

And his mind, calculated.

___________