Scene #5675: Necromancer World Tour

Owner	Pose
Carna	Many paths of destiny are being woven together. They had already become entangled beforehand thanks to the Multiverse, but as they narrow their attention, join their forces, act together or in the same places, the bonds of fate become tighter and tighter, so that what one does affects the other. As well, the choices that have set all sorts of Power spinning in the void of life called Lumiere now draw even more of fate's attention to them, bringing more threads of destiny into contact with theirs, forming great ropes of causality that stretch from the depths of the Underworld, to its heights. So, it should be unsurprising to those who can sense such movements and workings of prophecy that threads should seek out Dorian Pavus too, for he has been involved as well. But so few have the senses to detect it. And so he is likely to be caught unaware, until it appears before him. And appear before him it will, once he awakens from his latest dream.
Dorian Pavus	The dream is troubling. Horrible even. Dorian is no stranger to death and murder. But the sheer savagery of it all... the HUNGER behind those black shapes -- that's disturbing. Moreso since Dorian saw himself leave behind those who he could have saved. That part was the most troubling, and what prompts the cry he emits as he wakes, one he stifles before it grows too loud. His eyes take in the room around him -- the bed, the nightstand, the alarm clock reading an ungodly hour of the morning. Dorian had taken to staying in more modern areas of late, finding their conveniences preferrable to 'roughing it' -- hell, the average middle-class person in a modern world had conveniences that a magister could only dream of! This time it's a small hotel room in some city he's forgotten the name of. Realizing that he's only had a particularly upsetting dream, he sighs, and slips out of the bed. He's not going to be able to go right back to sleep after that. Thankfully the traveling around Thedas when he'd first left Tevinter broke him of the habit of sleeping in the altogether, so he's at least decent. He wouldn't want to go out like this, but he's not going to embarrass himself if he does. He gets up and dresses, figuring he's not going to be finding sleep for a while yet anyway. Perhaps he'll go find a bar that has late closing hours. Since, despite his fondness for drink, he doesn't keep any where he sleeps. He knows his limits; at least having to GO OUT to do his drinking gets him out.
Carna	Something may have gone unnoticed in the bleariness of just-waking-up when Dorian first looked at his nightstand. A foreign object. The noise of it skittering and moving, and bumping into things might draw his attention towards it though. Something large, gray, withered, with four legs and a protruding mandible... And... A ring on one of its legs? Some kind of half-spider with jewelry? A closer look, especially in better lighting, reveals it to be not a spider, but a hand. A severed, dried hand, with a ring. And apparently independently mobile, because it turns towards him wherever he goes, as though... 'Watching' him.
Dorian Pavus	Dorian's not quite aware of himself yet, but once he's dressed, his brain seems to take that as the signal to truly focus. Once he's back in the area, he does indeed look over the room... and the movement catches his eye. He does think it's a monstrous spider at first, and is halfway through exclaiming ''Fasta vass!'' when he gets that better look. "...A hand? Moving? Apart from its owner?" Dorian muses. Well, that's definitely something worth taking a closer look at. He picks up his staff from where it leans against the wall, just in case the thing attacks him, and starts to get nearer to it. "...What in the world are you...?" No, he's not expecting it to be able to talk. It's a hand, it doesn't have a mount. Then again it doesn't have eyes either, and it appears to be able to trace his movement.
Carna	The hand stands up on its finger tips when Dorian approaches. When he asks what it is. It switches to a fist and pounds itself on the table two times. Then it holds up two fingers. Wait, is it going to communicate with him through charades? Two words, two syllables? It pounds itself on the nightstand once more, and then holds up its index finger. First word, first syllable! Charades it is!
Dorian Pavus	Dorian blinks. He's played charades before, though most of those had been drunken larks without any real seriousness. This is... slightly different. With an expression that he'll probably think his hilariously grave if he ever gets to look back on this, he nods to the disembodied hand. "All right, let's try that," he agrees, then offers, "If that doesn't work, I'll find you a pen and paper." Of course it's absurd. But the flavor of this particular encounter seems to be 'absurdity'. Besides that, Dorian assumes that this hand needs his help, otherwise it wouldn't have sought him out. If it meant him harm, it would have done so while he was asleep; clearly the hand had been there for a while, and it wasn't as if it could speak up and wake him. Though it might have been responsible for that dream, now that he thinks about it. Still. If it needs help, there's no reason not to at least try to assist.
Carna	The hand seems about to begin the first letter of the first word, but then it pauses at the mention of writing. It waves itself dismissvely and then starts making writing gestures. Yes, that seems as though it would be much faster and more efficient. So it can also hear without ears, and think without a brain. What a strange thing this is. It definitely has a sense of Death to it, for obvious reasons. Not necessarily 'undead' but definitely 'of death'. It is infused with the essence of a soul, even if only in part. More a ghost than a corpse, despite its seeming solidity.
Dorian Pavus	Dorian takes a moment to sense this, the Death coming from it. It's familiar somehow, but not. But yes. Writing implements. He has those. It doesn't take long before he locates a pad of paper and a pencil (he doesn't want to chance a pen not working, since he's not sure a disembodied hand would know how to make it work). Though as he approaches, he hesitates a bit. How to do this? He's not especially afraid to touch the hand, but in a way he is. Not because it's probably a corpse's hand, but because he doesn't quite know what it's made of. In the end he decides to move the alarm clock and place the pencil and paper on the nightstand next to the hand.
Carna	The writing is brief, if frantic, in great big letters, the paper moving about under the one-handed writing making it perhaps difficult for the severed appendage to write with any delicacy. But there, in jagged script, is its messages. TAKE RING. WEAR IT. SHAKE ME. Not the explanation that Dorian sought, perhaps, and something he already wishes to avoid in terms of contact, but, again, if it wished harm upon him, it could have easily just suffocated him in his sleep or something.
Dorian Pavus	Dorian blinks at the message. It didn't occur to him that he'd need to hold the pad of paper still. Though it probably should have, but that dream might still have hold of Dorian's mind, and perhaps things seem particularly fantastical at the moment. But there it is, in black and white. He reads the message. Looks at the ring. Reads it again. "The ring you have on? I should put it on?" ''('I really shouldn't do that,')'' is the first thing that pops into his mind. He nears the hand. ''('That is really not a good idea,')'' his mind says again. He reaches towards the nightstand. ''('It could be dangerous.')'' He knows, and that he's probably going to regret it. But something about the ring seems to appeal. Maybe it's the way it feels familiar, like his practice of necromancy but yet not. He's always been fascinated with the undead and necromancy. In the Multiverse he's learned about necromancy from other worlds besides Thedas too. Maybe this ring holds more knowledge. Dorian marks which hand this is, and which finger the ring is on. He hesitates, as it seems that for a moment, common sense seems to be winning out. But it's a short-lived victory. Once he's sure which hand and which finger, he gingerly reaches to pull the ring from the hand, and place it on his own, in an identical spot. And it will be this hand that he uses to attempt to shake the hand. Just before he does, a thought occurs. ''('What am I doing?')'' Bit late to turn back now, though. The possibility of knowledge has always been a good way to catch Dorian in a trap. And this is a mystery. One he wants an answer to.
Carna	Thankfully, nothing bad happens to Dorian. For a given value of 'bad'. He does suddenly find himself shaking hands with a blonde-haired woman with deep green eyes like forest pools, in blue robes. The same as from his dream. The same as a wizard from Lumiere he may or may not have met, who was also in his dream. He also finds his room has gone all smokey. Cyans and grays, flickering and shifting. Wavering in and out of position, like he has entered some other plane of reality, where the sound of water rushes by all around, and the smell of books fills the air. "Thank you for trusting me. The last power I had was put into sending my hand to you. You are one of the first genuine necromancers to come to Lumiere in a very long time, and the only one we can trust." Her smile goes away, as she takes on a serious expression. "My name is Aicila. I was once a member of an organization in Lumiere known as the Blue Scholars."
Dorian Pavus	Through all that, the thing that piques his interest the most is the smell of books. Books mean knowledge. Though Dorian is not so rude as to ignore the woman before him. Besides, there is a shock there -- he does remember. "...The speech," he says, before he can stop himself. "What were those things?" Since he assumes she saw the dream. Maybe a bit of a stretch, but this has been quite a weird journey so far anyway. But he's not ignoring her, either. "You do need help." A serious tone. He nods to her introduction. Blue Scholars... yes, he remembers something very like that, from his dream. "What's going on? What was that dream? I'm assuming it had something to do with what's wrong."
Carna	"You were living out one my memories. Quite some time after the Death Of All Light, when every Living being in the world died at once, a terrible enemy appeared. They scaled the base of Lumiere, crawling up to its lower reaches, attacking and consuming all souls they encountered along the way. The Eyes of the Asher, Knights who should have been protecting us from such an invasion in the upside-down fortress, Lorethlein, for some reason did not fight against them. They were our first and last line of defense against the Unlit." She shakes her head, as though still unable to believe it all this time later. The failure of the defenders they had protecting Lumiere from threats that come from below. Though if the Unlit were a new phenomenon at the time, what exactly lurked down below that they had set thes Eyes of the Asher to protect them before that? "The Unlit eventually overcame all the defenders of Lostrata. They burst into the Tower of Escher, where our Order lived and worked and studied, and started consuming our spiritual essence. Extracting our identities and the power of our souls from us, and so killing us in a way that no amount of harm to our spiritural representation in Lumiere could cause. Being cut in half or burnt to cinders would not have killed our souls. But they did it with nothing more than tooth and claw. Like they were MADE for it." She is still holding Dorian's hand. Perhaps it is necessary for them to be able to see each other in this way. "In that dream, you were me. We need your help, but I also come with a warning. About that man who tried to lead me away."
Dorian Pavus	That strikes Dorian as a bit strange, having been experiencing a woman's memories and having it seem so natural. There's a few more doubts in his already impressive bin. But that's neither here nor there. Right now, someone needs help. The information doesn't go unheard, and he will definitely file that away for later. But a warning? If those memories were so long ago, as what she's seeming to indicate... He doesn't finish the thought as a thought, but instead asks, "That man... the one who was trying to lead me... er, you, away to somewhere safe?" The memories are still weird to try to separate after experiencing them so closely. "Is he still around? Does he intend harm to you?" Since why else would he be trying to lead her somewhere he knew other than having horrible things planned for her himself?"
Carna	Aicila shakes her head. "No. The Blue Scholars are no more. But those of us who could, transcribed our memories and souls to the Library of Infinite Knowledge, now known as the Library of Murdered Knowledge. Our identities are stored in the Library, so that even after our spirit selves were slain, all that was gained by our killers was our raw energies. Now, there is one who remains named Enark. He identifies himself as the last survivor of the Blue Scholars. But we can not reach him. Can not warn him. We do not know why, other than that he does not have his ring. However, there is an infiltrator in Escher. Someone who claims to be a Blue Scholar, but is not. Whether it is Enark, or the other, we do not know. But one of them is false, and not to be trusted. The false Scholar is not the person who tried to save me so long ago." She eases her expression and her grip a bit, having tightened as she spoke. "Now that I have delivered my warning, I deliver my request for aid. All this time later, we are still there. The templates for our minds have survived the destruction of our souls. With your necromancy, paired with the knowledge of the last Blue Scholar, you may be able to give us bodies again and resurrect our Order. We would still be essentially ghosts, but ghosts with forms and agency. We could be a great ally in trying to put to right some of what is wrong with Lumiere, if you can succeed. If all else fails, you can absorb our memories into that ring, and then douse them in the waters of the pool of Mnemosyne, in the Caverns of Hades. Lumiere will then remember us, and remake us whole. Or so is my hope."
Dorian Pavus	"I'm sorry to hear that," Dorian replies, to the mention that the Blue Scholars are gone. The loss of those who seek knowledge is always a blow to any world. The mention of an infiltrator, of this one named 'Enark' that isn't the same... that gets a thoughtful look. Something stirs in his mind, a possible explanation for it -- she did say their identities were in the library. Might he merely be one of Lumiere's dead who discovered the identity in the library? Though her words of returning them to life, and how, gets a bit of a smile. "My dear, I may be uniquely qualified to help you with this, that's true," he agrees. "Necromancy in my world is the handling of raw spiritual energies. If your minds can inhabit those raw spiritual energies, it may be possible to put that spiritual energy into a body. So, perhaps not just ghosts, but you may actually be given flesh again." Because he's not going to NOT go there, not after what he's been told. Even beyond helping the Blue Scholars, this is a chance for knowledge of a sort as close to those who knew the world of Lumiere as he'd never been to any before. The last resort idea, though... there's a bit of a pause. 'Mnemosyne' -- that is a word he's heard before. Not in the context of Lumiere, no. But in the the context of words that pertain to 'memories'. Soon enough he brings himself back to the rpesent, and offers a smile. "Hopefully I'll be able to something a bit more direct," he replies. "But if that is the last resort, that may be the best option. If the world remembers you, you'll surely come back in some form. Likely not as you were, but it will still be ''something''."
Carna	The... Memory-ghost of a ghost, as that seems to be what she is now, smiles. "However you choose to pursue it, we are entrusting our fates to you now." Then she lets go of Dorian's hand, even if he's still holding on to it. The distorted reality around him snaps back to normal. The hand is gone, but there is a cold energy of spirit fragments that lingers on his skin. Dead Lights, such as were gained when he was helping to squash those worm-monster things in Tacet Sanctos before. Wormfeast. That was the one. They released this same energy. However, this energy does not appear to be being absorbed. Or at least not into his body. It is instead focused on the ring. She really did use up the last of her energies just to get this cut-off hand here, in the hopes that Dorian, out of all people, could help them. That is a heavy responsibility he has agreed to take on. But hopefully he is up to the challenge.
Dorian Pavus	Dorian nods to the spirit's ghost -- appropriate as that is to call her, even with the redundancy of the words. And then as suddenly as she appeared, she is gone, and the world around him seems to gain 'realness' again. He blinks, surprised and yet somehow not. And then he looks to his hand. The ring is still there. He isn't bothered by the spirit fragments. Though he will make an effort to draw them to the ring with his own magic. A heavy responsibility, yes. But one that holds great rewards, and not just for the Blue Scholars. He knows the 'feel' of the Fade, and can manipulate its energies due to his familiarity with it. Lumiere's energies, though... he isn't quite so familiar with. He needs to remedy that. The better he knows the energies of that world, the easier it will be to detect and manipulate them. And the better he can manipulate the spirit energies within Lumiere, the more likely it is that he'll be able to help more. ''('Well, no time like the present,')'' Dorian decides. And he immediately begins packing up. He travels light, so there's not much in this room that he needs to pack, though. In short order -- though not before proper grooming; can't go out looking like he just tumbled out of bed (even if that's basically true) -- he'll be ready to head downstairs and check out. He's got dead people to save!