Recent content by Abalon Shallows

"Our capacity to shape ourselves to what is required of us..." Abalon began, that sorrow in his eyes melting away to a stoic firmness, yet that melancholy living on in his soft reply. He paused, hand closing around nothing, as if the hand were a new addition to his personage, to be tested for...

Abalon's eyes were to the wardrobe, hand tentatively waiting as the reply was issued. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if refreshing his capacity for patience. "It wasn't rhetorical," Abalon replied, liberally applying his softest tone, matter of factly and full of allowance, his effort to...

Abalon did rise from his seat, robes coalescing about himself as if they were a shroud of pale cloud that was herded by shepherd breeze. "Essentials of magic," Abalon did say, making slight tremor of the shoulders to implicate mild amusement at the turn of phrase. He cocked his head at the...

Abalon received the gratitude with as much affect as a flowing stream might upon the stone bedrock that bore it, for all that his face did change for hearing it. He made small motion with his fingertips against the desk, tapping without making sound. He looked to the black thurible for a moment...

Abalon made affirmative nod, small, barely perceptible. He turned his gaze to the talismans that did hang, and made slow snatching gesture at the air. As fingers closed upon themselves in languid motion, the talismans did still themselves from their turning, each piece of an amber an eye that...

Abalon received the reply with with dutiful ear and unphased feature, scarcely moving from breath drawn much less reaction. Statuesque as the apparatus that was contained behind glass that motionless did wait for their time to be unsealed. "On the contrary to your statement, such may well...

The word, "Proceed," uttered as knock sounded. The door opened with simple gesture from the mage, the door yawning open silently. The desk at the end of the room was occupied by the Pursuant who wore robe of white and ornaments of withered bark and vine. His lilac eyes blinkless, instinct to...

The scent of frankincense layered over everything in steady ebbs from the thurible that roiled it's cargo outwards from the center of the chamber in wisps of the rich scent. Consecration of the room was a point of safety, no divine will did flow to guard against the Dark, yet the will of the...

Stones that gather to scattered lives spent and ended, Markers to lives lost and not remembered, Not of knight or squire placed within the foundation of grief, Built by depth of duteous thought of one solemn Shallows, Who hearing the distant call of drifting malcontented departed, Without...

The Dark of Death abated with golden light born from spectral hallmark of the Order, with thousand ray hope did the sun shine again upon the Pursuant's soul. The cocoon that protected him from foe now relinquishing in their attempt to feed, his need to protect himself absconded with threat's...

Life force spent in puncturing blow, Abalon gripped at his chest as his heartbeat felt distant, arrhythmic at best, a distant erratic knock upon the door of life, not be felt with any assurance that he was truly alive. His throat was dry and the taste of sulphur within his mouth, his lips leaked...

The arcane spectrum was an ebbing and sighing place of arcane power, a myriad of colours, a rushing ocean that toiled and submerged the faltering in endless depths of doom. The flotsam of souls that fought for their lives lingered in gathered masses and snapped and cried out in mute...

The Arch Mage's eyes widened as his spell had rendered their foes all the most bestial. Yet his heart was in the trim, there was bloody work to be done upon this battlefield before the day's ruination was called to a halt. Whispers came through from Glorphain himself, which set his mind to a...

These words so delivered gave rise to concern within the Pursuant of Death, this ceremony was quickly becoming less about communication and more about compelling each party to their respective wishes. Such was the trappings of each party, he thought, the living demanded answer, the dead demanded...

Abalon's heightened senses of the arcane picked up on the smog of attitude alteration that drifted across the field of impending battle. A decision was to be made. Expend energy to cool the thirst for violence that did tempt the fighting mettle of each soldier here, or forestall action to give...