Thursday, December 15, 2011

A Tale of three Wands


“The Oracle confirms the sex of my unborn; furthermore with a viable sorcerous blood line.” Marcus informed his brothers. The archmage was dressed in his typical robes of office in the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors as he sat adjacent to his brother in one of two identical chairs at the foot of the richly lavish bed. Everything he wore proclaimed his power, station and nobility; he was not to be balked.

Sitting opposite Marcus; Raine, also wore robes of office, sat pensively as he fingered his magical focus that hung on a mithril chain about his neck: an olive colored tiefling horn. The youngest brother, Raine was usually two or three steps ahead of his peers in regards to political maneuvering, listened intently. It was after all thanks to him that gave the Thayan occupation legality despite their nefarious reputations. It was his part to play ensuring family vitality, as he was not anytime soon going to sire a son or any offspring for that matter.

Lying in the considerable bed, Maskar, the elder Wands; laid pale and sick as Marcus’ promising news was imparted. The elder Wands began a fit of coughing that sounded wet and deep-rooted; Marcus and Raine regarded their oldest brother in patient silence with meaningful concern. A tenacious pestilence had afflicted Maskar as of late, a disease that denied any and all attempts of alchemical or magical curing.

“Can this Oracle *cough* be trusted? *cough* *cough*” Maskar inquired reaching for the Elixir of Health. Even the Elixir could only ease the symptoms but could not purge the illness. “Furthermore you make preparations as if her vision is reliable.”

“She saved my life by intervening on my behalf; until such reason surfaces…” Marcus let the implication settle before continuing. “I was to die on the night of my wedding and this young Oracle prevented it by her own guiding tenants, she is an aspect of death after all.”

Raine looked up suddenly but quickly regained his composure before the abrupt anxiety at this news drew questioning glances. He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight to camouflage his physical reaction. “What are you not telling us brother?”
                                                                                                                                       
“The child will be born early. Syllia will only need to carry the child for seven months. The child grows rapidly within her and will be here on of the Feast of the Moon.” Marcus said with much pride. “This heralds a strong sign of the child’s early rise to power.”

“That isn’t all Marcus.” Raine regarded him with his lawyerly stare, a gaze that usually brought truthful results from purjurious men. Marcus’ expression immediately changed from one of arrogance to one of rage directed at the younger Raine. His face began to redden as Marcus' ire threatened to boil over.

On his bed, Maskar began to shiver under the mounds of blankets- it suddenly became very cold. He looked on as this brotherly contest of wills played out in his personal chambers trying to stay warm.

Marcus stood and glowered over Raine, “ WE KNOW WELL YOUR SEXUAL TASTES DO NOT EXTEND TO THE OPPOSITE GENDER RAINE! YOU WOLD DO WELL TO SUPPORT THOSE WHO ASSURE THE FAMILY NAME WILL ENDURE!" Marcus could not prevent the spittle from flying form his mouth as his elevated discourse filled the bed chambers.

Marcus strolled to the window that held a breathtaking view of the House of Wonder; but before Raine could exacerbate the quarrel, Marcus said: “The oracle also warned of a danger that threatens all of Waterdeep…”

2 comments:

James Caruso said...

Have I said how much FUN I'm having with our game?

Russ said...

Me Too, I hate that charecter in LOR! You need the picture of the red juice running down his face. He is a great Maskar!