The Truth of the Powerful

[warlock2000]

It is early hours of the morning when you are awoken by a sound outside, Whether a animal, car squealing, or kinds yelling. Another common thing that happened to all of you is a letter in your hands. Quickly as you rise the letter opens itself and lies in front of you, it says;


To the holder of this letter.

Your presence is requested immeditaly by the Consilium. A situation has arose that the Consilium feels your skills will be an asset to Mages as a whole. All will be explained when everyone arrives. The meeting will be held at City hall in one hour.

Hierarch, Andrew Ragemaster

You arrive seats have been arranged, the members of the Consilium other then the only Sentinel. that the Consilium has, Jason King.

(Heres a chance to get to know the other players in character.)

[Premsyl]

Arcadius Hex enters the room, glancing around at his surroundings. He allows himself a smirk. He wears a tailored black Brooks Bros. suit, with black silk undershirt, and a smoke colored tie. His appearance is young, and strikingly handsome. His eyes are a deep brown, almost black and there's a large scar adorning the right side of his face, going up-down across his eye socket, as if he'd almost lost the eye. Directly above the scar is a stark white streak in his hair, as if whatever had caused the scar had also cause some of his hair to turn white. The rest of it is jet black, and the whole thing is cut short, styled in a contemporary way. He takes a seat at the table, nodding to Jason and murmuring a greeting.He folds his hands in front of him, and waits for what is to come.

[Rosyn]

When Rosyn enters the room she gives Arcadius and Jason a cold judging gaze, but with a sudden flare, and a flick of her long, thin, orange/red ponytail, her pale green eyes sparkle and a slim smile creeps across her face. "Hello Gentlemen" she says sweetly and takes a seat next to Arcadius. As she does the sent of incense from her coat floods her company's nose reminding them of church assuming they have ever attended. She wears a long, gray jacket and plain black pants. Not much can be seen about what she wears under the jacket but there is a faint jingling of metal as she walks.

[Premsyl]

Arcadius smiles pleasantly at Rosyn as she enters the room and sits down, he half turns to her in her seat beside him. "A pleasant morning, to you. What fortune to have such appealing company at such an impromptu meeting." He turns his head to smirk at Jason as he mentions the meeting. Turning back to Rosyn "May one such as I be so bold as to enquire about your name?"

[Rosyn]

Rosyn narrows her eyes, glaring at Arcadius her pale green irises glowing ever so faintly or maybe not at all, maybe it was her stunning anger alone. Although the rest of her face keeps a cool, calm,beauty and her slender body turns slightly to face him."Rosyn Autumnfire, servant of God. And you sir?"

[Nuada]

Nycthemeron enters, chic in a tailored black riding jacket, designer ivory jodphurs and riding boots so polished you could see the supernal in them. Her olive mixed race skin, lustrous straight black hair and hazlenut black eyes make for interesting even if her face is too angular and her nose just a little too aquiline to be really pretty. Any of you in the Free council might recognise her; Nycthemeron is a sculptor and half-arab emigree from France and she doesn't normally turn herself out like this; jeans and t-shirt splattered in glazes, gluse and clay is more her normal style. Or club wear. However she can clearly dress to impress.

She cllicks her heels across the floor before stopping to bow to Jason King, "Sentinel. Monsieur, Madame. She offers her hand to those she doesn't know and kisses on each cheek those she does before sitting herself next to Rosyn, "Nycthemeron, how do you do." She looks vaguely dissappointed at anybody who gives the wrong answer.

Spoiler

Show

Nyc. has mage sight, Supernal Vision active for 24 hours using the mana for today from her hallow.

[Premsyl]

Arcadius' smile widens a bit, and his eyes glint when Rosyn mentions "servant of God." I am Arcadius Hex, of the Silver Ladder. It is most pleasurable to make your acquaintance." As he says that his eyes are drawn to the door, noting the entrance of Nycthemeron. "There's to be no shortage of fair company this morning, it seems." Arcadius stands and takes the hand offered him by Nycthemeron, raising it to his lips and brushing his lips against it. He takes his seat, introducing himself "Arcadius Hex, and as to your question I am doing ever increasingly better, today."

[Rosyn]

Rosyn looses interest in Arcadius and stands to greet the new comer and takes her hand. Her angry glowing eyes turning soft and a bright smile widening across her soft pink lips."Welcome, I am Rosyn. God bless." she says, nodding her head slightly has she says 'God Bless'. Her pale skin a stark contrast to Nycthemeron's olive complexion. She returns to her seat at the same time as the others and now sits , smiling, thinking about what may come.

[warlock2000]

Jason only nods as people enter.

[Nuada]

Looking slightly dissapointed with Arcadius' answer, though smling at the form Nycthemeron sits, her legs crossed elegantly. To Rosyn she smiles and speaks softly, Deo duce, ferro comitante

She flicks her hair and looks to Jason King, "Sentinel King as we haven't started I presume we are expecting more. May I smoke?"

[warlock2000]

Sentinel looks over, "the others should arrive soon, but feel free to smoke if you wish."

[warlock2000]

Sentinel looks over, "the others should arrive soon, but feel free to smoke if you wish."

[Nuada]

Pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her inside pocket Nycthemeron hinges open the packet and lights a Sobranie black. Replacing the pack she exhales and mutters under her breath, gesturing as she does so. Clearly casting a vulgar rote it takes only a second before a mote of light becomes, faster than the eye can follow a series of lines and then a heavy cut glass ashtray shaped as a pentacle. She taps her cigarette into it.

Spoiler

Show

Rolls in recruiting thread. Paradox was a chance die so nothing happens (thankfully). Now on 11 mana, or 5 if we start at half.

[Melijobiddle]

Sisko purrs up to City Hall on her slightly-dented-but-obviously-well-loved silver Suzuki Hayabusa motorcycle, sliding it neatly into a convenient parking space and peeling off a shiny black helmet. Her masses of dark mahogany curls cascade down her back and she squints a pair of deepest grey eyes up at the rising sun before dusting off her worn leather get-up and sauntering lazily into the building. She walks with the gait of a confidant woman, appearing to rest heavily on the very pulse of the earth with every stride - both familiar and comfortable with her place in this world.

She helps herself wordlessly to the chair closest to the door by slouching deep into the seat and perching the bulky helmet precariously on one knee. Nodding curtly to Jason, Sisko merely acknowledges the others' presences with cold, detached eye-contact, taking a moment to observe their awkward social exchanges.

[Premsyl]

Arcadius sits back in his chair, twirling an expensive looking pen deftly through his fingers. He looks up when Sisko enters the room, watching her take a seat. He turns to Jason "So, King. What am I doing here this morning? As much as I enjoy mingling with fine company, my schedule is taking a serious hit with this."

[Rosyn]

Rosyn gives a polite nod to Nycthemeron but shifts in her chair to shy away from her cigarette smoke possibly crowding Arcadius. She doesn't seem to notice, she only greets Sisko and takes a minute to idly observe her surroundings.

[Nuada]

Nycthemeron

In her languid french accent Nycthemeron speaks "Whilst we're all eagre to serve the Consillium of course we do have busy lives Sentinel." Nycthemeron exhales elegantly towards Sisko, a thin stream of smoke dissipating between them. Her eyes survey the latest arrival critically, assessing the leather clad woman.

[warlock2000]

As you question King, the sound of a throat clearing comes from the other side of the room. There stands a man, who you recognize as one of the Councilors. He appears in his 50's long gray hair and beard. He is dressed in a Japanese robe, he speaks very calm but sternly,

"Welcome everyone. I am glad so many of you could make it here as quickly as you did. You have been called here to be asked to help one of your fellow mages. The herald has vanished while investigating a call for help from one of our neighbouring Consilium. The Hierarch and the Councilors, including myself are asking if you would be willing to investigate this happening in person. We would consider this a great favour to our Consilium. Are any of you interested?"

[Premsyl]

Arcadius looks around the room, quickly. Watching the reactions of his "colleagues." A grin on his face. He puts his hands on the table "Interested, of course, but not completely sold yet. This sounds dangerous, what's the hook?"

[warlock2000]

The Councilor makes an odd smile like he heard a good joke,

"The hook for you lad is as follows. The neighbouring Consilium is far stronger then our own. They seemed to have vanished without a trance leaving everything behind. Since most mages have many objects and secrets of power. These objects and secrets are much too dangerous to be left to sleepers. It would be our duty to ensure such objects and secrets would need new owners, that is if you can find the secrets left behind. Of course I am sure more experienced mages would be much better suited for this given you don't seem overly driven to help you fellow mages."

He then looks around the room for everyones opinion on the matter.

[Nuada]

Nycthemeron ponders cautiously waiting for others to speak first. "I'm interested certainly, I do wonder however why the consillium has chosen we less experienced mages."

[Premsyl]

Arcadius smiles winningly, showing a row of perfect white teeth. "Nonsense, Councilor, I am more than willing to lend my aid to the Concilium. I would be honored to aid you in this"

[Rosyn]

Rosyn stands when the Councilor enters possibly the first one to offer him this polite gesture. When he begins to speak she returns to her seat. As soon as she hears that someone is in danger her placid face turns wrought with concern. "Of course I am interested, praise God that He should bring me here to help those in peril. Dum spiramus tuebimur. I am not concerned with reward or risk!"

[Premsyl]

Arcadius rolls his eyes, and leans back in his chair while Rosyn speaks.

[warlock2000]

"The message was sent to each of you because the Hierarch left the choosing in the hands of fate. Personally I feel that more experience mages would be a safer but, however that is not how the rest of the Councilors feel. But if you all wish not to go, I will gladly assemble a better equipped team for the job."

[Nuada]

"Who are we councillor to stand against the wishes of Fate; and of course it is our pleasure to serve the Hierarch however we may. I am onboard."

[Melijobiddle]

Sisko maintains her silence, gauging the reactions of her fellow mages and taking in the councilor's message of distress. She nods slowly and deliberately at the mention of fate at work here and presses her lips together in what could be mistaken for the faintest grin. Finally, she speaks - barely above a whisper, in a thick velvet voice.

"I will go. Together or alone."

She shifts her weight in her seat and moves the bike helmet to the other knee, obviously anxious to stand and depart.

[Premsyl]

Arcadius folds his hands behind his head. "It seems we've all reached what is ultimately the same conclusion. Is there anything else you can tell us about our mission?"

[warlock2000]

The Councilor nods to each of you. "Well excellent. The Herald was on his was to the other Consilium before we lost track of him. I would recommend you start there. They hold their meetings in the basement of a hotel called 'Ever Night'. I recommend you watch one another. I have arranged a ride outside. I recommend you each spend at least a moment to get to know one another. Is there any questions?"

[Nuada]

Nycthemeron stubbs out her cigarette, grinding it out on the moros point of the phantasmal ashtray. Why was the Herald heading there?"