Bedside Conversations (MavickXRichter)

[Mavick]

((OoC: This takes place during the night of Great Spire of Edessa, in Richter and Mavicks room.))

Mavick sat on his single bed, having shedded the layers of robes and the poncho untill he was down to a loose fitting shirt and pants, The shaman's legs were crossed and his eyes were closed, his hands resting on his lap. Infront of his head, a small orb of dark energy was hovering, giving off a gentle hum as it weaved into itself. Mavick seemed totally unaware of the orbs presence. In fact, his face was so blank, he seemed totally unaware that he himself existed. This was not the first time he had done this, having taken out a period of time each day when they rested to undergo this odd habit of his. He had never bothered to tell anyone what it was he was doing. Mainly because no one had ever bothered to ask.

[Richter Abend]

Richter sat on a bed to the right from Mavick on the opposite side of the room. He held a small book in his hand, its cover a plain and worn leather, no bigger than the hand he held it in, and appeared to be reading it. His eyes kept flitting from the book to the small shaman at his left. Mavick seemed to be in some sort of meditative trance, doing that dark magic thing with the orb. Truth be told, Richter had never been interested enough to inquire before, attributing it to the usual "magic stuff", but now that he was alone in the room with his tactician he couldn't help but wonder what the purple man was up to.

"Meditating?" asked the commander casually, keeping it short so that Mavick could ignore him if he was interrupting anything important.

[Mavick]

Mavick was surrounded by the darkness. The darkness was everything. It was with him. It was him. Everything begins and ends in the Void. That is truth. That is God.

"Meditating?"

The darkness fell away, and Mavick's sense of self returned to him. The orb infront of him dissapated into nothing. The shaman opened his eyes, and blinked the haze away. "Hmm? Oh, yes, after a fashion." he replied. "It is something all mages do, to keep their connection with magic strong. Light mages pray. Anima mages meditate. Elder mages like myself, well...One could call it meditation, but thats not an exact definition. Meditation is a time of reflection and soul searching. That...That is not what I must do." Mavick tried to explain.

[Richter Abend]

Richter's head slowly tilted to the side inquisitively. Well, now that the tactician brought it up, Mavick hadn't exactly looked like he was reflecting or soul searching. He had looked like he was doing nothing at all, like an empty shell devoid of life.

Snapping his book shut and placing it on the table, Richter inquired further.
"So what is it that you must do?" asked the commander.

[Mavick]

Mavick sighed. "I'll try to explain it, but I'm not sure if I can dumb it down to where you'll understand. No offence, it's just you've never struck me as interested in magic, and Elder magic is...complicated." he replied.

"Anima magic, as you've noticed, derives from nature. Light magic, which you may not have noticed, is pure energy. Both things that exist in this world. Elder magic, however, does not come from this world. Elder magic is not derived from anything. It comes from Nothing." Mavick paused, trying to figure out how to explain it. "This Nothing has several names. Darkness, the Void, the other side. It is a source of limitless power. To draw that power into this world, I must first invite the darkness into my own soul. And that...is dangerous. An anima mage and a light mage reflect to better control their magic. If they do not, it weakens, and eventually they can't muster it up anymore untill they've retuned with it. That is the worst case scenario. Not so for me. Should I be overwhelmed by the darkness, should I try to take on more than I can handle...It will consume me." Mavick explained. "It is a fate worse than death. I would not wish it on any man, not the prophet himself. That is why I must do this. To keep my soul tune with the darkness."

Mavick cracked a grim smile. "Chilling, isn't it? You must think me mad, to so willingly involve myself in something so dangerous."

[Richter Abend]

"Chilling, most definitely," replied the pink haired Ilian, sitting back on his bed. "I definitely wouldn't want to find myself consumed by some sort of dark energy, but I don't think you're mad. No more mad than I am, at least." Richter's hand wandered up to his mouth, resting there in a pensive position. A fate worse than death? In his opinion, there was fairly long list of things with that qualification, but he didn't dismiss Mavick's comment. There was something about magic that unnerved Richter. It was a world so different and so distant from the one he knew. In a world like that a fate worse than death was probably pretty bad.

"We both risk our lives and our sanity to do things others tend to balk at. Every time you pick up that book, you take your life into your hands," continued the swordsman, eying his tactician's tome. "Every time I pick up my sword, I do the same. I don't have to worry about being overcome by magic, true, but making a career out of killing people tends to scar you in other ways."

Richter paused. Magic. To him, it was such a foreign beast. Perhaps he'd benefit from learning more about it.
"Tell me, Mavick, how did you get involved in the dark arts?" inquired Richter. Truth be told, he was generally interested. How did people get involved in magic? Did they just pick up a book and realize it was their calling? Could he himself have become a mage as easily as he had a swordsman?

[Mavick]

Mavick 'Hmmed' in thought as to his answer for Richter's question. "Well, to be honest, it was accidental." he replied. "You see, I am, first and foremost, a scholar. My parents were merchants, and had amassed a small collection of books from different countries. I was cleaning up when I came across an old chest filled with tombs. Mostly historical records and things of that matter, but I also came across a most stunning find."

Mavick smiled, and patted his satchel. "An Elder tome. Now, I'm not altogether sure why it was there. Perhaps they'd intended to sell it, or maybe they'd never realised what it was. But the moment I touched it, the moment I felt that power course through me, I knew I couldn't go back. Just holding it in my hands, I could taste Elder magic." He said.

Seeing Richter probably didn't fully understand, he clarified. "You see, Richter, magic is something you are born with. Most people don't have the potential to ever be competent mages. Everyone has the ability to use magic, just not the ability to use it properly. Oh sure, you could pick up a tome and cast a fireball spell, but more than likely it would make a little spark or flat out blow up in your face than actually do anything productive. But if you trully have the potential, then it shows. You may not realise it untill an actual mage points it out to you, but it shows." Mavick explained. "And what of you? Is there anything to using a sword, or is it all just random hacking and slashing?"

[Richter Abend]

Richter nodded his head softly. What Mavick had said made sense. No matter how he thought about it, the Ilian couldn't see himself being a competent mage with years of study. A lot like sketching and painting in that sense. Richter couldn't draw a picture for a bag of dried livers and he wagered he never would be able to.

Richter's right eyebrow shot up at Mavick's question, as it did when most people asked things he wasn't quite expecting. Yes, there was more to wielding a sword than hacking and slashing, but how to explain it?

"It is actually possible to get by while randomly hacking and slashing," replied Richter, "one just wouldn't get by for long. A bit different than magic in that respect. A sword won't blow up in your face if misused, but chances are you'd overextend yourself in a fight, leaving your guard open, or parry a strike incorrectly and cut yourself with your own weapon." Richter grabbed his sword, which he had left laying sheathed at the foot of his bed, and drew the blade. He balanced the light sword on his palm for a quick second before letting it fall and grasping it in his hand.

"There's a balanced required. Muscle control and whatnot. Most people think that the more strength put into a swing the better, and while that can be true at times, seventy-five percent of the time its not so much. The direction and angle of the blade tend to be much more important," expounded Richter. He gave the blade a quick swipe, then twirled it in his hand. "Ideally one would have as much control over their sword as they would their own hand, but that can take years if not a lifetime. I'm not so devoted to the art." With that, Richter re-sheathed his sword, placing it back at the end of his bed. "I'm most definitely skilled, but I've done my fair share of hacking and slashing." He wouldn't say it out loud, but that was probably why he tended to come out of a lot of battles with a good wound or two. Thus why he enjoyed his new armor. It made up for his potential laziness.

[Mavick]

Mavick nodded. "I see. That makes sense." he replied. "We seem to be learning quite a bit about eachother's choice of weapon." he added.

"If you care for hacking and slashing, you should try an axe." he suggested. "Much more weight focused on one area. Much more power. I've watched my brother train with his axe. It's pretty simple, just swinging at a dummy as hard as he can, but it's still terrifying. So much raw power. With proper training, imagine what you could do with an axe."

[Richter Abend]

"It would be something wouldn't it?" replied the swordsman. He'd never thought of it before, using an axe. As Mavick was saying, with an axe, precision and form weren't as important as placement and application of force, two things Richter was quite good at. Not as much of a need to slice as there was to chop. An axe would allow Richter to punch through heavy defenses and crush limbs more easily, though he'd imagine with the heavier and more concentrated weight of the weapon it would be easier to fall off balance.

"I can always starting training on my own, but if we find your brother again, maybe he can teach me a thing or two," said Richter.

[Mavick]

Mavick nodded. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind." he replied. "Though that might be a while. He told be he was headed to Bern. That's on the other side of the continent." Mavick added.

[Richter Abend]

"Yes, that is a bit far away," replied Richter, muttering. He wouldn't say anything to Mavick, but if everything went according to plan, they would most likely be heading to Bern. Perhaps Mavick would be able to see his brother then. Brother. Sibling. The thoughts made him think of his sister. The Ilian shook his head, brushing the thoughts away. She seemed so close right now, but ultimately she might as well be as far away as she had ever been. There was no point in longing.

The commander looked out the window, staring at the moon. It was full and bright, and it's light seemed to fill in the shadows of the candle-lit room. Stifling a yawn, he took off his glasses and placed them on the stand next to his bed.
"Well Mavick, we've got a full day ahead of us tomorrow, so I'd say we get some sleep."

[Mavick]

Mavick nodded, pulling back his bedsheets. "Yes, you're right. Good night, Commander." he replied, slipping under the covers.