The Grey Dust

The 1st Magical Incursion [Reboot] [Accepting]

Rufus

Rufus

Rufus, through the ages

Early 20's

Mid 30's

Late 40's

Early 50's

Mid 60's

Late 70's

---

"Time's Up."

---

Name: Rufus
Gender: Male
Age: 193
Alignment: Dark Shadow
Rank within Organisation: Member

Birthmark Shape:

Got a Minute?

Location of Birthmark: Dorsum of Left Hand, usually kept covered by a glove.

Magical Abilities: Chronokinesis. Rufus is a Time Keeper, a magus able to manipulate the flow of time itself within defined areas relative to the time stream. Creating pockets of isolated temporal events within a total volume of 60 cubic feet as his maximum limit, he is able to alter the event with respect to time within these areas. Like a master control to a recorded video his abilities alter the course of actions within these 'time bubbles' frame by frame. He can pause time, effectively freezing the events within indefinitely for as long as his concentration holds, and anything entering such a paused bubble would halt until released from the stop. He can also slow or accelerate the passage of time within such areas, making things take centuries to advance a centimeter as time slows to a crawl or a zero-to-sixty miles in a second, alternatively he can rapidly rust metals or grow plants as time progress faster. Furthermore, his temporal manipulations also allow Rufus to rewind events within the area, seemingly reversing the events of time in perfect recall, rather useful when dealing with a deadly situation although it does take quite a bit of energy to pull off. Similarly using an even more advanced technique, within the bubble Rufus can summon time-skip clones of himself, pulled from the possible future events until the uncertainty from which they spawned from collapse into the one and only present Rufus. Finally by tactile touch, Rufus can transfer time to restore his youth and rapidly age his victim, reversing his senescence and inflicting it upon them, although unfortunately such stolen time merely prolongs his biological clock for a few weeks before he begins to age progressively back to his elder years.

Place of Birth: Belfast, Northern Ireland
Currently Residing: New York, United States
Personality: Live long enough and experience life for as long as Rufus has, and it is only naturally to become bitter at the world. He has seen the cruelty of humanity, the rise and fall of nations, and the terrible acts humans are capable of doing. He is a staunch supporter of the return of the magi to their proper numbers, a firm believer in their right to rule over humanity as is the natural order of things that the strongest, fittest, and most evolved survive. And the Guild has done nothing but protect those who refuse to see how humanity is but a shadow in the light of the magi. But live this long and learn that patience is a weapon, the onus of revolution lies not the old generations who lack the spine and lifespans left to reap the harvest, but on the young and prodigal pawns who are more than willing to throw themselves into their destiny.

History/Bio: Having lived one life where he died Seven times, Rufus's life story is more of an anthology.
The first death occurred at the hands of rioters during the Great Famine. The second death was at sea during the Second Opium War The third during the first world war, the fourth during a stint with the IRA, the fifth was during the Blitz. The sixth was during The Troubles, and finally the latest death was during a holiday in the CCCP after being accused of being an English Spy despite his Irish accent.

Either way, Rufus is a man living on borrowed time, having cheated death by reversing the sands of time in each event, ousting himself as a magi before having to silence the witnesses. All the while reinventing himself by rejuvenating his aging appearance. The Guild did take notice and he does not quite love them for their lack of progress, rather keeping to the shadows and out of the light. Sanctions placed upon him for his self-defensive actions were considered a personal injustice by Rufus who had easily turned into a bit of a rebel within the Guild despite his early membership. Eventually after the third time he used his magic against non-mages, his relationship with the guild had dissolved to either the Guild banishing Rufus, or Rufus renouncing his affiliations. The history would suggest it was the Guild who acted first, but Rufus would recount otherwise.

In the present day, Rufus spends his life under the assumed position of biology professor in New York having moved away from his native homelands. Finding a new group of disgruntled magi under a young upstart banner. The Dark Shadows or whatever he calls it, rather too flamboyant for an old man, but perhaps they could bring forth a change after all. Of course, every few weeks he does hunt for fresh prey, and certainly his position as a professor in a large university campus filled with young students who come and go by the dozen weekly is the perfect opportunity to render him biologically immortal for ages to come.

Relationships

Dark Shadows

Name: Aloysius Leighton
Relationship (Bold as needed):Acquaintances - Cordial
Characters opinion of them: Trifling Upstart. Not quite the glorious leader of a revolution to usher in a new age of magic I imagined. Lad's barely broken his first hairs, let alone be the figurehead required to lead the old guard into submission. I don't doubt he isn't willing to kill for the cause, the question is, is he ready to die for it?

Name: Circe Masers
Relationship (Bold as needed):Acquaintances - Cold
Characters opinion of them: Pandora's Box. A tool with a single purpose, useful to cause widespread chaos, but easily replaceable with the next unstable fool who escaped the asylum. Once her purpose is done, she's more of a liability than an asset. Power without discipline is wasted talent.

Name: Lana Arlene Ryder
Relationship (Bold as needed):Acquaintances - Warm
Characters opinion of them: Misguided Youth. She can go far in her abilities, but she pulls herself back. She lacks the commitment she needs to truly unlock her potential. I think she knows this, but cowers from it, not yet ready to embrace that could be. And worse, I believe He knows that she could be a worthy rival should she not be kept in line. A closer eye would be best to test her colours.

Name: Tiberius Nero Delamar.
Relationship (Bold as needed): Acquaintances - Cordial
Characters opinion of them: Walking Ink. I can't help but to see myself in the lad. A younger me of course, well, not as much young as less mature. But beyond that devil-may-care bravado he puts on for the ladies, or the lads, is probably a decent drinking mate who'll haul your drunk arse back home. He'll find his way in life, and hopefully will only end up dying once or twice given the stupidity of a boy his age. They don't tend to think with their brains, but their balls.

The Guild

The 1st Magical Incursion [Reboot] [Accepting]

"Time's Up." A fatherly voice announced, rich with the twinges of Irish in his English. The ringing of the timer at his desk silenced by a hand tapping the button. The classroom shuffled before the whiteboards, last minute answers changed past the final bell, the fate of those few remaining sealed as they approached the front desk. Those who took this long were either unprepared, doubters, or scared, the stragglers who took the entire two and a half hours allotted for the exam. It was a fair cop, neither too tricky nor to easy to breeze by, and yet there were always a few students who never stood by their own work. For those afraid to let go of their papers, slow in stride and shaking as their fingers were pried off each page and gingerly placed upon the desk with the other piles, they'd need to get over their irrational fears and grow a spine. Don't they know life is just a long series of tests? Waking up everyday is the challenge, and this wasn't even the hardest of the three exams they will take this year. Then there were the doubters, those who held themselves back as they frantically changed their answers at the desk, their brilliance restrained by some strange delusion that they are wrong when they are right. Honestly in a way they were worse than the stiff-fingered cowards, since doubting yourself is merely just fearing your own self, and not believing in yourself is almost as the last of the lot. The Unprepared, those who surely did not care to learn anything, and depended on the work of others to claim something that did not belong to them. These were the worst, societal parasites who did not belong within the ranks of the talented and gifted, no they did not deserve to be waiting in the same line with their smug grins concealing their cheating eyes.

"Remember, the next lecture in is two weeks, so go enjoy yourselves a break while you can." Just as one chapter ends, a new one begins. Such was the cyclic nature of life, stretching into eternity, for at the end of every era and age, something else must rise. It was the same with how the age of reason and science paved the way for the return to romantic mysticism and superstition. Perhaps it was for the idyllic nostalgia that society shifted from one to the next, never quite satisfied with the progress which urged them forward into the future, while their roots anchor to tether them in their deep past. It was this internal struggle that set the stage for how the world worked, each revolution merely a rebirth of one predominant phase before the next counterrevolution. And he knew of cycles, far beyond an ordinary professor of biology would. For a man who died seven times so far, Rufus looked remarkable well, only bearing the faint suggestion of a scar across his right eye, and a bit of a limp as his gloved left hand carried his cane about him as he stalked the rows during the exam. For a man who had lived nearly two centuries, he looked good considering he appeared somewhere in his 60's as his grey hair was slicked back neatly with the gaunt features of his wrinkling proctor's eyes. There was more to the professor than his students know, the rumors perhaps that he was part of a war or something worse. The scar was real, but the limp was fake.

"Except for you, Mr. Anderson. Stay here for a minute." An ungloved hand placed heavily upon the young man's shoulder. There was a jolt, a twitch, a cheater's nip. They both knew this would not end well, but alas the fingers gripped tighter to finger the dishonored. Still the boy tried to wrestle away, and deny his guilt, but alas it was written across his face and more so the exam. Singled out for his act, and forced down to sit upon the desk. The scowl of the professor, looking dead into his darting eyes, looking for an exit, any exit like the rat he was. But Rufus would not let the student scurry away, not while his unwitting prey failed his test. How was it possible that a senior citizen- "Tell me, Mr. Anderson... What good is an exam... If you're unable to learn anything from it?" This was surreal was it not? An experience to be felt and seen, but perhaps it was a trip, but it seemed by the minute the professor looked younger, his grey hair turning darker, the wrinkles flattening out to a fierce look. And all the while the cheater felt weaker, drained of his energy as though he had just ran across the campus. His vision became blurrier, the hard desk gave no support to his back, his hairline receded. Receded? Alas, looking down in horror to see the changes. It was impossible, how was it? The digital numbers on the timer had stopped, the blinking counters paused as if the batteries suddenly decided to malfunction. And yet here he was aging, rapidly as someone unrecognizable if it were not for the scar over his eye stared at him. "Goodbye, Mr. Anderson."

---

Lines. How he detested waiting in lines. Perhaps it was because a Time Keeper never waited, but rather be waited upon. As such there was a fundamental abhorrence towards standing around in queue, to people used to controlling the passage of time waiting was an insult. And waiting with these nonmagi? Certainly had he not recently engorged himself on three decades of life within the last week, Rufus may have been willing to act the angry old codger, yet in his current state, the man looked more like a yuppie dressed in his monkey suit. A few locks of hair escaping the orderly comb with an upper-class frown with each step closer among the uncouth masses. Older than his students, but certainly younger than the usual folk who came in and out to do banking business at this hour. Ahead of him a widow collecting her pension, ahead of her was a balding man looking for a loan, and at the kiosk was some fool no doubt withdrawing his riches for a transfer. It mattered not, Rufus would wait for now, because yesterday the dawn finally broke.

It was plastered all over the news, as such panic and pandemonium often did, milked of all the chaos and disturbance the ripples had. Even now in the lobby the networks tried to explain the facts, reviewing the data and grasp at the message of fear that seemed to dominate the news. It was how humans were kept in control after all, they were trained fear from a very young age, fear of abandonment and neglect was first, as a infant had no way to fend and feed itself at birth. Then once a child could act for itself, punishment and retribution was the next to fear, as its choices became weighed with trade offs of pleasure or pain. Then the mind evolved once more to consider the morality of its acts, the fictional concepts of good and evil conceived to justify the fear preceding. And finally, the maturity of fear into us and them, when the mind realizes the similarities and the dissimilarities, the great ability to compare and judge: the fear of the adversarial Other. It was psychologically ingrained, behaviors learned through growth and development, it was once fear of ruination that had once united the tribes and woe the war, now it is the morality of the Guild that kept the status quo of bitter peace, but soon it shall be the fear of the Dark Shadows that shall rise in persecution of the nonmagi.

The Boy finally did it. He first act of magical terrorism, brings back some memories of home. Such times they were, but surely the piping windbag had no idea what he just started. A series of events which would fall upon them all, it was finally time, and Rufus wondered if he should have gone with him. Timing was always the hard part, sure there was a few minutes in the interval window to have derailed the train, and should the boy hesitate or miscalculate, the old Time Keeper could always slow the passage of time to ease the skill required of timing the blow. But there was nothing Rufus could do to help the boy pick his timing. This was a choice the leader of the Dark Shadows had to make, the decision to stop suckling on his mother's breast and hiding in her shadow. It was time he stepped into the world a man and claim his stake in the world, now the world shall test him in reply to see what sort of man he was. Hopefully he would not be a disappointment as Mr. Anderson was, which is to say Rufus was a man of high expectations. A few dead, the nation searching for the enemy, and by now probably the ever-infuriating Guild. Ah, summoned to the kiosk, the call for next in line seemed far more polite than: Meet at base tomorrow night for full meeting. Don't be late or miss it if you value your life.

"Safety deposit please. MacFly. Martin MacFly. My papers." A curt nod at the teller behind the counter. A journey into the vault to retrieve an item just for this occasion. Tonight of all nights on a Wednesday evening, summoned to gather at the place to be to discuss where things go from here no doubt. And for this Rufus would need to come prepared for such an occasion, given the tenacity of their little society of sociopaths. A wise man would bring something to subdue them all with as two keys were inserted into the dusty metal box. A lifetime of treasures contained in a single bin? Perhaps not, but certainly for the persona of Martin MacFly, there was a wooden box waiting for him that filled most of the container. A treasured item no doubt, perhaps some ancient artifact or relic of great magical power that would suppress even the strongest of mages. No matter how powerful a man was, no one could stand against what legendary magic Rufus gingerly lifted box and all, held close to his chest. "Thank you, that'll be all for today."

The 1st Magical Incursion [Reboot] [Accepting]

Rufus

Rufus

Rufus, through the ages

Early 20's

Mid 30's

Late 40's

Early 50's

Mid 60's

Late 70's

---

"Time's Up."

---

Name: Rufus
Gender: Male
Age: 193
Alignment: Dark Shadow
Rank within Organisation: Member

Birthmark Shape:

Got a Minute?

Location of Birthmark: Dorsum of Left Hand, usually kept covered by a glove.

Magical Abilities: Chronokinesis. Rufus is a Time Keeper, a magus able to manipulate the flow of time itself within defined areas relative to the time stream. Creating pockets of isolated temporal events within a total volume of 60 cubic feet as his maximum limit, he is able to alter the event with respect to time within these areas. Like a master control to a recorded video his abilities alter the course of actions within these 'time bubbles' frame by frame. He can pause time, effectively freezing the events within indefinitely for as long as his concentration holds, and anything entering such a paused bubble would halt until released from the stop. He can also slow or accelerate the passage of time within such areas, making things take centuries to advance a centimeter as time slows to a crawl or a zero-to-sixty miles in a second, alternatively he can rapidly rust metals or grow plants as time progress faster. Furthermore, his temporal manipulations also allow Rufus to rewind events within the area, seemingly reversing the events of time in perfect recall, rather useful when dealing with a deadly situation although it does take quite a bit of energy to pull off. Similarly using an even more advanced technique, within the bubble Rufus can summon time-skip clones of himself, pulled from the possible future events until the uncertainty from which they spawned from collapse into the one and only present Rufus. Finally by tactile touch, Rufus can transfer time to restore his youth and rapidly age his victim, reversing his senescence and inflicting it upon them, although unfortunately such stolen time merely prolongs his biological clock for a few weeks before he begins to age progressively back to his elder years.

Place of Birth: Belfast, Northern Ireland
Currently Residing: New York, United States
Personality: Live long enough and experience life for as long as Rufus has, and it is only naturally to become bitter at the world. He has seen the cruelty of humanity, the rise and fall of nations, and the terrible acts humans are capable of doing. He is a staunch supporter of the return of the magi to their proper numbers, a firm believer in their right to rule over humanity as is the natural order of things that the strongest, fittest, and most evolved survive. And the Guild has done nothing but protect those who refuse to see how humanity is but a shadow in the light of the magi. But live this long and learn that patience is a weapon, the onus of revolution lies not the old generations who lack the spine and lifespans left to reap the harvest, but on the young and prodigal pawns who are more than willing to throw themselves into their destiny.

History/Bio: Having lived one life where he died Seven times, Rufus's life story is more of an anthology.
The first death occurred at the hands of rioters during the Great Famine. The second death was at sea during the Second Opium War The third during the first world war, the fourth during a stint with the IRA, the fifth was during the Blitz. The sixth was during The Troubles, and finally the latest death was during a holiday in the CCCP after being accused of being an English Spy despite his Irish accent.

Either way, Rufus is a man living on borrowed time, having cheated death by reversing the sands of time in each event, ousting himself as a magi before having to silence the witnesses. All the while reinventing himself by rejuvenating his aging appearance. The Guild did take notice and he does not quite love them for their lack of progress, rather keeping to the shadows and out of the light. Sanctions placed upon him for his self-defensive actions were considered a personal injustice by Rufus who had easily turned into a bit of a rebel within the Guild despite his early membership. Eventually after the third time he used his magic against non-mages, his relationship with the guild had dissolved to either the Guild banishing Rufus, or Rufus renouncing his affiliations. The history would suggest it was the Guild who acted first, but Rufus would recount otherwise.

In the present day, Rufus spends his life under the assumed position of biology professor in New York having moved away from his native homelands. Finding a new group of disgruntled magi under a young upstart banner. The Dark Shadows or whatever he calls it, rather too flamboyant for an old man, but perhaps they could bring forth a change after all. Of course, every few weeks he does hunt for fresh prey, and certainly his position as a professor in a large university campus filled with young students who come and go by the dozen weekly is the perfect opportunity to render him biologically immortal for ages to come.

Relationships

Dark Shadows

Name: Aloysius Leighton
Relationship (Bold as needed):Acquaintances - Cordial
Characters opinion of them: Trifling Upstart. Not quite the glorious leader of a revolution to usher in a new age of magic I imagined. Lad's barely broken his first hairs, let alone be the figurehead required to lead the old guard into submission. I don't doubt he isn't willing to kill for the cause, the question is, is he ready to die for it?

Name: Circe Masers
Relationship (Bold as needed):Acquaintances - Cold
Characters opinion of them: Pandora's Box. A tool with a single purpose, useful to cause widespread chaos, but easily replaceable with the next unstable fool who escaped the asylum. Once her purpose is done, she's more of a liability than an asset. Power without discipline is wasted talent.

Name: Lana Arlene Ryder
Relationship (Bold as needed):Acquaintances - Warm
Characters opinion of them: Misguided Youth. She can go far in her abilities, but she pulls herself back. She lacks the commitment she needs to truly unlock her potential. I think she knows this, but cowers from it, not yet ready to embrace that could be. And worse, I believe He knows that she could be a worthy rival should she not be kept in line. A closer eye would be best to test her colours.

Name: Tiberius Nero Delamar.
Relationship (Bold as needed): Acquaintances - Cordial
Characters opinion of them: Walking Ink. I can't help but to see myself in the lad. A younger me of course, well, not as much young as less mature. But beyond that devil-may-care bravado he puts on for the ladies, or the lads, is probably a decent drinking mate who'll haul your drunk arse back home. He'll find his way in life, and hopefully will only end up dying once or twice given the stupidity of a boy his age. They don't tend to think with their brains, but their balls.

The Guild

The Elder Scrolls: Serpent's Fall

A pity.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: Floor 3, Tower of... Wait where are we?
Interacting with: Satilla, Mustela Dirus Infernii (Fiendish Dire Weasel)

Remind Thomas not to let the Bear hug him. Or Keystone for that matter. Or the ex-ex-ex-Grey Render if it wasn't completely maimed by Keystone. All in all it seemed things were winding down, and yet that was what happened the last time before a new batch of enemies appeared. But even if they were withstanding the tide of rather oddly uneventually minions, Thomas swore he saw Nor stab himself. Twice. Maybe, he wasn't too sure since the dwarf was covered in armor, and moving like he wasn't. Either way it seemed the tin-man's second attempts to defend them worked stabbing the hairy ape with a good shank. Two and a half down, six more to go. That said, Thomas had only two spells left in his repertoire, one of which was already primed to go. His plan was dangerous, but desperation did that to a man. Or in his case a boy sorcerer. Regardless, tactical positioning was key in maximizing his spells to take out as many enemies as possible. . All that remained was getting Sana..."Go Satilla!" Cheering his crush on as she rushed in there to do medic things to the perhaps not quite dead yet now getting better Sana somewhat slumped over.

Now that everyone did their part, it was time for Thomas to do his. Call it idiotic, moronic, suicidal, and yes even stupid. If he could get to the pentacle on the floor, one that seemed to be inactive at the moment, the plan was to taunt the enemies to taking him on as possible, crowding around him far from his allies before he could unleash the power of the sun. But first there was a rather large polecat skittering his direction, and being a rather bit of a road block to Thomas' direct path. The fiendish dire Weasel did not seem to relent, giving Thomas no opening as he attempted to maneuver around the ferret, he even tried to manoeuvre around the thing but there was just no luck. Thomas was stopped in his tracks by...

For the lack of a better example, please accept this artist's depiction of Thomas' problem

"Out of my way you Stinking Sulfurous Polecat!" A prime choice of insult no doubt, with Thomas staring down the beady eyed mongrel. A spell at this range would hit everyone in the area within five feet. He'd have tough out whatever attacks would come. Whatever, Whenever, Wicked Wreaking Weasel would wanting woefully wound willingly within wizard's way.

The Elder Scrolls: Serpent's Fall

@Father Hank

Any preference to character archetypes?

I have the penchant to play a flamboyant foppish Breton Imperial Courtesean / Illusionist.
Over the top and grandiose, but a pretty damn good mage who messes with your mind.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: The Monster Mash! Tower, 3rd floor.
Interacting with: Magic!

Now it was Thomas' turn to be out of it. His attack on the necromancer was successful, although perhaps only provided to anger the stranger more. Maybe it was the after-effect of the spell, or maybe Thomas needed glasses, but the boy swore there were more enemies now than before. More angry-looking furry things and scaly bothers. Oh and a creepy-crawly. If they were not fighting for their lives, Thomas would be impressed at the summoning abilities the dark lord had. There was perhaps an ounce of respect for the man's capacity to summon an endless array of minions. How much more though? Didn't all magic have an innate drawback? There was after all the universal law of reciprocal resource reconciliation which basically stated magic was not free, and there was a cost to using magic one that is usually equal in magnitude to the spell being cast. Summoning and controlling all these creatures for example... Unless... Was that a summoner's circle?

The glowing ward faded from around the figure and his pet centipede, the one closer to whatever we decided to call the man, and not the one near Thomas's left flank. And with the fading of the celestial light, Thomas' dizziness was shaken off to adequately access the new hell just raised. It wasn't a dream after all, but a nightmare. All things unleashed, fiendish fur and sinister scales, a new wave of enemies to be fought for a team that was already just threading the deep waters. To his left just behind his shoulder the sounds of a bear combating with a centipede, to his left, a threesome of Keystone and Sana and the rather Grey Gray Render. And by the looks of it, the gruesome Mr. Gray, was having his way, with the Greying lady. Not Good, They were in a tight squeeze, one more literal than the other, and Satilla didn't seem like she could get in to heal Sana who looked rather unwell. This of course left the Dwarf to be their sole bastion against... 1, 2, 3, 4... 5... 6... Enemies. Oh the odds were not in their favour, not at all.

Seeing how Satilla would be preoccupied, and the number of enemies far exceed the number of would-be heroes, with a hard swallow Thomas steeled himself. His usefulness in battle was going to be burned up rather quickly with the last of his two spells, but he wasn't going to let that necromancer best him without a fight. It was a matter of who's magic was mightier now. Raising his right hand just before him Thomas focused his arcane energy, concentrating on the feelings that surged within. Light, light turned into Warmth, warmth into Fire. Pure Cosmic Fire, all consuming fire that will purge everything and from the searing ashes arise the reborn. The sphere of the sun envisioned in his grasp, traced out before as a clockwise circle was pantomimed with his right hand. The Sunflare spell was set.

Oh My Gods!

@ScreenAcne

Are we still alive in this thread?

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: Tower of Terror! 3rd floor.
Interacting with: Satilla, Fiendish Monstrous Centipede Large, Hooded Figure.

It seemed Satilla was still out of it. And Thomas was not the best person to resuscitate anyone given his track record. That said, laying down Satilla by the stairs in a relatively safe location was his best course of option, and letting her come to on her own as he should probably join the fray at last. Propping up the girl to sit at a level of steps just a half turn from the top, making sure her body was leaning towards the wall rather than gravity, the young sorcerer trudged onwards and upwards. The climb to the top was met with the witness of the cavalry, bodies stewn across as his team managed to fend off a good amount of enemies. Namely, it appeared to be a great amount of massive centipedes, of which Thomas would have to note to harvest their organic parts. That alchemy fellow might be interested in them, same with those boars from earlier.

Now with the majority of the enemies cleared, it was far easier for Thomas to get a clean view of the source of all their ire. That hooded enigma, mocking them all with his magicks most malefic. How much more could the necromancer churn out? Another army of undead with exploding deaths? Thomas was in no rush to find out, pointing at the ceiling just above the frames of the figure and the nearest centipede by him. Thomas' last daily spell, the magic in his blood surging as the last of the celestial light poured out into a pillar of glorious incandescence to illuminate the dastardly duo. Calling for the searing light of the noon sun inside the dark tower, the six foot round spotlight burned the gruesome twosome with wholesome light. The orange orbs of fairie fire glow of the wil-o-wisp's, motes of light which mirrored the cosmic plane, lingered there as a ward against movement outside of the sealed space, buying them perhaps some time until the minute was over.

Of course Thomas would also be slightly out of it for the next minute or so, shaking his head as a strong headache furrowed his brows and a dizzy daze made his check of his success quite possibly a dream. They were hit right? But definitely not out, not quite yet. But at least... At least now the others could figure out... Figure out that... That there were no... No wards around... Around the... The...