Spirit things: Advanced Spirit Class (ATTN Kura)

[Tigara]

A sliver of light opened into a Gateway in the lower floors of the basement of the Fortress. A man dressed in black contrasting his pale blonde, shoulder-length hair stepped through and roughly pulled another man behind him. The poor man was in fine clothes and had a merry belly that jiggled as he pleaded for mercy. A Murandian and a Darkfriend. A Darkfriend that failed horribly. Normally such cases were dealt with by immediate death, but there were other uses for this portly fool.

 

Tigara drug him down a full flight of stairs and entered into a empty room. It was not small, but not large either. But it was solid and deep down and soundproof. There would be screaming. The man was forced into a sitting position and bound with air to stay like that. It was an amusing sight to see a fat man sitting without a chair. Highly amusing.

 

They told him that this Arcon showed much potential in Spirit, as much as Tig did himself. He knew a few tricks with Spirit and he could certainly teach this one some of them. Not all of them for sure, but some. He was supposed to be here anytime now. That must be him now, he thought as the doorknob twisted.

 

[Kura]

Finally, he was receiving one of the classes that he felt he deserved. He showed promise in so much more than Fire and Earth, hell, Earth was one of his weaknesses. The Dreadlord he was being sent down to was just as powerful in spirit as he; maybe more so for Arcon knew he still hadn't reached his full strength.

 

Reaching the room, he twisted the door knob and entered. He bowed his head at his teacher, "Dreadlord Tigara, I am Adept Arcon Dadread." The adept's eyes latched onto the fat man sitting without a chair. A smile crept across his lips. Of course he could see the weaves that encased him, but that didn't make it any less fun, now did it? "I had hoped to garner a few more uses for my unusual strength in spirit, and from what I hear; you are the one to teach me."

 

He raised his head from the bow, his training in The Game of the Houses screaming that if he held the pose any longer, he would appear weak and far to subservient, while he had held it long enough to respect the man's rank. He could almost thank his father for that early training, it held so many uses. Still, it wouldn't save him when Arcon was allowed to learn how to travel... He pushed those thoughts aside, bringing his full attention back to the present, waiting for his instructor to begin.

 

[Tigara]

Well, the boy was well-mannered, he had to give him that. But now was not the time for such things. This boy showed promise and he was going to train him to the fullest. Well...almost fullest. He couldn't teach him everything.

 

"Alright Arcon, embrace the Source and watch closely. We're going to start simple." Tig took ahold of a large amount of Spirit and wove it in a complete fashion. It seemed to dissiapte as he wove and it went in no direction in particular. He watched Arcon look at him with a puzzled expression. "That was a dream ward, it'll keep dreamwalkers from spying on or entering your dreams." He had started doing that lately. It was a horrible experience to have someone pop into your dreams. Especially when you knew it was happening.

 

He next took large amounts of Spirit, Air, and water along with traces of Fire and wove it into the floor. Suddenly a lampstand was in the middle of the floor. The fat man looked at it with wide eyes and Arcon looked interested. "That is a simple illusion. It can be altered slightly to make almost anything and you can even cover an existing object with it. Give them a try."

 

OOC: Try both weaves and then we'll move on.

[Kura]

He watched as the first weave formed and disappeared. He was, of course, puzzled, but when it was explained to him a wide grinned formed on his lips. "Interesting... I hear a few of the higher ups in the order, as well as some Chosen are dream walkers." He drew on the source, and drew out the necessary spirit. Weaving it, he felt it settle around him. He thought of how much safer he felt, but didn't let it travel to his expression.

 

His eyes narrowed at the weave that the man was forming, wondering exactly what he was up to. Then this too, was explained to him. This was a weave designed for him! He wondered if he could weave it around himself... Something to experiment with on his own. For now he settled for mimicking the man's weave, with a bit of a twist. His was that of a coiled snake, poised at the fat man. He already knew how to make phantom noises, and did so, making a hiss cut through the air.

 

The man reared back, eyes wide with fright. Arcon didn't bother to hide his grin, even laughing as the man tried to struggle against his bonds. "Well Master, I have the hang of this weave." He looked at the Dreadlord, searching for signs of approval or disappointment.

 

[Tigara]

Tig nodded as Arcon wove the Dream ward and the Illusion. He was a fast learner, for he knew enough o alter the illusion and add a sound using another weave. This may be easier than expected. "I see you added your own sound to that." He wove Air and Fire with Spirit and then spoke again, except this time with a seductive woman's voice. "But can you use it for something like this." He altered the weave just a bit. It was now a very low-demonic voice. "Or this!" He altered it once again. "Or even this." The last one had come out as an exact copy of Arcon's voice. He giggled inside as he watched the Adept's expressions change.

 

"The weave to alter your voice is very useful in combination with this." He wove a more complex version of the previous weave with less Air and Fire, and suddenly he appeared to be a Sea Folk Cargomaster, tattoos and piercings and all! "The Mask of Mirrors is the most valuable weave to know when performing espionage in familiar territory. Give these two a try."

 

[Kura]

Arcon's expression did change at the sound of his own voice. Surprise was foremost, but second was glee. This was perfect! The Adept watched at the mask of mirrors was set into place, and here he'd thought that he would have to discover this one on his own! Instead, Tigara simply handed it to him.

 

The first was simple for him; he had been good at manipulating sound since his Acolyte days, using fire and his minimal water abilities, as well as sound to form an eerie, misty setting to scare a few lowly dark friends out of some of their valuables. He wove the power and spoke. It was a female voice, alluringly so, but it wasn't quite right. He changed the pitch, and the manner of speaking in the weave, before he attempted the next part of the set.

 

He wove around himself; it was hard. Setting the weaves in place all around him was quite possible the most difficult weave he had ever seen. His image would sort of blur at first, changing from the slight Adept, to a white blur, before it began to settle into the shape of a shapely woman of around twenty-four years of age. She had full red lips, and large blue eyes, combining with her long blonde hair and shapely body the man in the chair couldn't help but gawk at her. When he spoke, it was with her voice. "So, did it work? I can't really tell by looking at me." It had, but Arcon was afraid. Not at failure exactly, with practice he knew he'd get it, but of messing up this image. It was the first one that had settled in his mind.

 

He looked and sounded just like Alice...

 

[Tigara]

Arcon seemed to be well practiced with the voice, but he didn't do so well with the Mask. He had long golden hair, big blue eyes, big lips, and a dress, but the rest of him was unchanged. It looked as if he had put on make-up, a wig and a dress, not a proper Mask. "Umm, you'll definitely have to practice that one. But let's move on. Now we get the fun stuff. He turned to face the portly man who suddenly looked very afraid. Tig grinned and wove a delicate weave of Spirit into the man's head. His eyes fluttered and then closed, then his head drooped over. "That, dear Adept, is how to put someone to sleep. The things to remember are to be delicate, and always aim for the brain. That's where his sleep nerves are." A whip of air formed and hit the man square in the nose. He awoke yelling in pain. It was simply delightful. "You try!"

[Kura]

Resisting the effort to clench his jaw, he let the weave fade. He would practice it, he'd practice it until it was as easy as air razors to the young Adept. The next weave again held practical uses. Being able to put someone to sleep, instead of killing them? His mind boiled with ways to take advantage of this new trick.

 

He extended the deftly woven spirit towards the man, and let it sink into his head. A convulsion tore through his body, before Arcon got it right and his eyes drooped into slumber. Weaving the sound weave again he rolled out a peal of thunder to wake the man. "Having fun?" He put on his most sinister grin, before trying again, this time putting the man asleep on his first shot. He wove the mask again, this time imitating his father's far stronger pose and face, taking away the slight shoulders he received from his mother, and gaining the size of arm that his father possessed. This was much simpler than his other guise. He guessed it had something to do with his father's features being much closer to his own than Alice's.

 

He tied off the weave and woke the man, whose eyes locked onto the new man, wondering what trick was in place for him now. Arcon simply grinned, awaiting his next lesson in Spirit.

 

[Tigara]

Arcon seemed to really take to this weave. And the mask once her used it in small amounts. It was always more difficult the more you had to change. Tigara went down his metal checklist and came to the bottom. The fun one. He took a little bit of everything and a lot of Spirit and wove it delicately into the Murandian. He started to squirm, then you could hear delicate "ow"s coming from him. He let the weave dissipate. "That, Arcon, is an interrogators favorite weapon. The weave is simply called pain. The stronger you weave, the more pain you will cause them. Weave too hard, and they will die." He wove it again but with much thicker threads and sent it hard into the man. The shock made him stiffen up like a board and his scream could wake the dead. Perfect. It dissipated and the man slumped, panting heavily.

 

"Give it a try. Just don't kill him. We may need him later." he said with a sinister grin.

[Kura]

Arcon couldn't help it, he let a chuckle escape his lips. "So, it is a weave specifically designed to cause pain? My my this was a worthwhile class." The image of the head of the Dadread house faced the fat man again. A wide grin was on his face, and he gazed directly into the eyes of his victim. He began to weave, lightly at first, causing the man to squirm as if uncomfortable. Arcon powered up the weave at a snail's pace, watching as the first verbalizations of pain were released, until the man was writhing and screaming for forgiveness and mercy. Arcon loosely tied off the weave and wove a ward of silence around the man. "There, that'll unravel in a couple hours."

 

After removing the disguise weave, Arcon released the source and bowed to his teacher. "Thank you master, I am sure I will find many uses for what you have taught me today, and if this is all you wish to teach me," he put special emphasis on the word 'wish', "Then I ask your leave to the mess hall."

 

[Tigara]

Tigara nodded to the Adept. "You are dismissed. I shall teach you nothing more at this time." Arcon strode off out of the room and the fat man was left writhing in pain inside the Circle of Silence. He smiled at him and said "I'll be back for you in a few hours. I know a Myrdraal who would love to play with you." The man appeared to be screaming more, not that he could hear it. He started to laugh as he closed the door behind him. If he lived that long.