To most, the tower of Inanus was just another mysterious tower, set in the mountains in this land of abandoned manors, deep caves and dark forests. but to those who resided within, it was the nexus of their very existence. It was a place of inginuity, inventiveness and discovery for magic, as those within there, had made their sole purpose in life to unravel the mysteries of such a force. This caused a great many spells, unheard of in the majority of Eru'tan, to surface and prosper. Many experiments took place in this tower, and the power and difficulty required to perform these experiments determined whereabouts in the tower they should be tested - the bottom bieng mundane and safe, and the uppermost bieng the most fickle, yet powerful.
Inevitably - as all things inexorably happen in such places, a mishap occured. Those even in the lowest floors of this massive tower heard the screams, the cries of dismay which indicated something had gone terribly wrong. A radial sphere of flames appeared, seconds after, streaking rapidly throughout the entire floors, from top to bottom. So hot was this flame, that even stone faltered, crumbling and toppling apon many of the students of Inanus, crushing the life from them. Those who werent crushed by stone, were scorched, their very skin melting, robes catching alight, eyes
bursting... The entire sect of Inanus
decimated in one spell. Except for one man, bieng in the eye of that sphere of destruction and thus surviving its effects, though almost having the life crushed out of him. This one man, certainly powerful to have worked on the uppermost floor, crawled his way out of that tower, past the corpses of his brethren and out onto those steps where he fell unconscious for three entire days from exhaustion from the spell and the pain it brought him.
Let us fast-forward now. Those corpses decomposing, leaving nothing but skeletons, that tower becoming overgrown by the vines and a lush jungle which previously surrounded it, the tower itself, becoming one of those many abandoned sites in this land, full of mystery, danger and treasure - for there were many books of spells, magically enhanced against destruction that would remain, containing ideas that many mages only dream about.
But enough about that --3 years later, the present. Rumours of a dark lord have abounded. Foul creatures and cutthroats are more common then ever, and now, finally, here is the character:
Nurin stood just outside the gates of Bytrios, his shoulderlength, unkept black hair blowing in the wind. The man raises his hand to his unshaven face and chuckles slightly, wondering if the guards will even allow him to enter. He noticed an extremely large, wild looking man bieng allowed though just a couple people in front of him, so he supposed his stubble and messy locks would pale in comparison. When it was his turn, he offered both guards a princely grin and bowed to them in a courtly manner. The guards, of course, simply stared at him impassively, and Nurin sighed somewhat, crossing his arms over his plain black, lace-up shirt and peering at them. One guard spoke finally, in what must be the hundredth time he had repeated this phrase just today: "What business do you have here?"
Nurins gaze shifts over to the poster on the wall, glancing at it briefly before turning back to reply, "Well, I'm certainly not here to Kill anyone, steal from anyone, harass anyone, cause general disturbance... ... ..." He continues spitting off the list - having a photographic memory was certainly good for bieng playfully arrogant in such a manner. As he finishes, the guards simply glowered at him, the one who asked him his business muttered something undeniably rude beneath his breath, before nodding him in, "Get in there, but cause a ruckus and i'll gut you personally." Nurin's eyes widen and he scoots in, chuckling. Well, some people just had no sense of humour. Almost unconsciously, he bends down to scoop up a scrap of paper blowing in the wind before it can get away, and he reads the notice curiously. Hmm, 500 would be a nice sum to have in his pocket. The man idly feels beneath his clothing for the seemingly normal dagger he had slipped in - good thing the guards thought him enough of a fool not to search the man. But then, they probably didnt search anyone. Finally, though, he makes his way down towards the center of this place, idly noticing that large man is heading in the same direction, and he mimics his actions in showing the guards that paper which he had luckily picked up, making his way to the waiting room. He enters the room with a mockingly regal walk, hands crossed in front of him before he moves to stand next to that barbaric fellow, grinning widely up at him. Well, this will be fun, won't it?
... ... Perhaps this quest will allow Nurin to regain his trust in himself when using magic. Perhaps he will eventually find himself enough courage to call upon more than mundane spells, and to even dabble once again in creating new spells, too. Hopefully that mask of childishness and games will fall to once again surface the true nobility and
power, of the sole survivor of the ruin of the temple of Inanus.
((OOC: *Shakes hands* Phew, I should write a book
that was surprisingly fun to write >.>; ))
