Kyorlurn Istosuru

From Valwiki

Contents 1 Core Statistics 2 Personality 3 Equipment 4 Other 5 Kyorlurn's Origin 5.1 Growing Up 5.2 A New Land 5.3 Lost Years 5.4 Returning… 5.5 The Angel of Death 5.6 Windcross 5.7 Noutarask's End 5.8 The War 5.9 Returning to an Old Path 5.10 The Clandestine Scheme 6 Grisen Tau 6.1 Becoming the Deceiver, Introducing Grisen Tau 6.2 Weakening Ties, and the House of Troubles 6.3 The Olcas Mearog 6.4 A Change of Clothes, and the Necromantic Cabal 6.5 The Legion of Inferno 6.6 Piercing a Disguise, and Caedril Rossil 6.7 The Ivan Wave, and Xuicuite’s Humiliation 6.8 The Fragility of Man 6.9 Catching Sight of the Skull-King 6.10 A Meeting Gone Awry, and the Rhyming Death Knight 6.11 The Legion’s End, Nuzalheim’s Touch 6.12 Pronymia, the Succubus 6.13 Meeting Skull-King 6.14 Sornilzt’s Mission 6.15 Joining the Conquest, and Convincing the Council 6.16 Beating the Undead Horse, and Meeting the Raven Yet Again 6.17 Skull-King and the Statue 6.18 The Magister and the Snake 6.19 Meeting the Highlord 6.20 Encountering Eldyvrin, again... 6.21 The Lich, Archonus 6.22 A Lesson... Not Learned 6.23 More, and more, and more...! 6.24 The Magister's Predicament 6.25 Another End of the Embersage, and Revealing the Truth 6.26 Wanted: Kyorlurn Istosuru, Grisen Tau 6.27 The Eclipse, and a Ritual Gone Awry 6.28 Wondering Why, and Skull-King's Betrayal 6.29 A Mysterious Escape, and the "Spineless" Skull-King 6.30 Leaving Olcas, and the Order of Six Virtues 7 The Order of Six Virtues

Core Statistics

Name: Kyorlurn Istosuru
Titles: Lord, Archmage, Deceiver.
Age: Unknown.
Relatives: Son of Elemmiire Istosuru. Distantly related to Lotha Zha'trassen and Olathurl Istosuru. Brother to Suliss and Isilvé Istosuru. Daughter is Tariel Istosuru, has several other children. Has many other siblings.
Race: Drow
Eyes: Red, becoming a bit brighter than most.
Hair: A smooth silvery-white, goes down a bit past his shoulders. Often covers his right eye.
Skin-Tone: Very dark gray, only a few shades from black.
Height: ~ 7'
Weight: About 195 lbs
Alignment: N/A
Character Approved By: Masa
Character Played By: Rachel

Personality

Kyorlurn’s views have undergone even more changes, especially with recent events. Some deem him insane, and he is prone to some very interesting mood-swings. Sometimes he is very chaotic, and other times he is simply calm and laid-back. He often acts silly, seeking any fun and thrills that he can find in life, but is not without wisdom. As one of the wisest sons in his family, and a powerful mage, Kyorlurn is well-respected by his relatives, and a large majority of Mournirra.

While he sometimes lies, he also has his own sense of honor, and in some situations he will defend his allies no matter the cost. If an agreement is deemed serious enough, he’s a man of his word, and breaking an important promise or deal is practically unheard of.

In rarer cases, he might even defend his enemies. Kyorlurn is evil, and there are those that he would wish to see dead, but he believes that a person’s time is not always when another expects it to be.

Equipment

Weapons: Depends on what kind of a mood he’s in. Kyorlurn often carries a dagger with him just incase. Usually he is seen wielding the Wraith-Piercer, a magical spear of his own creation, and other times he may wield a type of bladed rod.

Armor/Clothes: Kyorlurn has various different casual outfits, as well has his two costumes he made as Grisen Tau. He also has two suits of armor; one for battle, and one for ceremonial uses. The black mane on his helmet symbolizes his status as a former leader and servant to his people. Kyorlurn is almost always seen wearing the eccentric costume of Grisen Tau, but is currently working on specifications for a new outfit.

Jewelry: Kyorlurn carries no other jewelry directly on his person, save for two gold earrings permanently looped through his pointy right ear.

Other

Kyorlurn is a master of various arcane arts, including Arcane itself, Shadow, Necromancy, and Blood magic. He is not far along in other types, but knows enough of the elemental magics to get himself by if he needed to. As for other things that he carries around with him, it’s typically unknown.

As an successful entrepreneur, he has quite a bit of money to his name. Many of Mournirra’s libraries as well as their own magical community owe him some attention, even if indirectly, as some of his works are often used as bases for other Drowish scholars or mages. He is also responsible for creating several hand-written copies of the Tome of Searith, to be in the possession of select people.

Kyorlurn's Origin

Growing Up

Kyorlurn Istosuru was born on the island of Vautspachl, though at a very young age several families and about half of his own migrated to Cruciform, another tropical island - though it was very, very far away. Out of everybody in their particular family, the reason for leaving their beloved homeland behind is known only to the eldest Istosuru, Elemmiire. It was so long ago that even Suliss, the oldest son, doesn’t remember the trip. The direct children of the family always believed up until recently that they were born on Cruciform. A very large family, they were able to quickly mine their way down into the caverns beneath Cruciform, though ultimately they were forced up again by other cave-dwelling creatures. Eventually they were able to settle in a dark forest sprouting up at the bottom of a valley, constantly shadowed by the surrounding hills and mountains.

Growing up was very rough for him. Kyorlurn was constantly picked on not only because of his height, but because, to everybody else, it looked like his parents favored him. His father even called him Miirasha (mee-r-da-sha), the Sjaforan-Drowish word for “heaven-sent”. When he was only a boy, his father - a rune mage at the time - carved into his arms very intricate words and markings, colored silver with a special ink made by his mother. Kyorlurn is perfectly aware of what they say and mean, but to this day has never told anybody. Quite a few other Cruciform & Vautspachl Drow receive such markings, though with much different meanings. His particular tattoos, however, were done without his mother’s knowledge. Kyorlurn’s mother had always been a bit off the deep end -- She ended up killing his father, using the reasoning that “little boys only grow up to die anyway.” After his father’s life left his body, Kyorlurn went blind in his right eye, though he could never determine why. To everyone else he had known, he claimed it was due to an accident with Undead. After the incident, Kyorlurn had become so furious with his mother, though when he tried to approach her, he ended up with nothing but beatings. The tortures that his mother put him through were so horribly extravagant… He became broken, and was molded into almost a new person.

He’d finally become what his mother wanted him to be. An easily-trained soldier with no feel, no need for love. He, himself, felt happy… at least, that’s what he thought the feeling was. Happiness, to him, was the feeling of constant anxiety mixed with severe depression. It filled his eyes with a truly unhappy glaze, making him look very lazy, though a constant smile plagued his dark face. The expression, occasionally, still shows to this very day.

A great deal of yelling echoed through the valley. A large tribe of vicious Orcs had come across their hidden lands, pillaging the villages, killing anyone they could get their hands on. Lucky for Kyorlurn’s family, they were quite quick on their feet, and managed to scatter and escape. Kyorlurn went one way, however, while the rest of his family went another. Unfortunately for him he ended up running right into the Orcs’ camp, though since they were all out pillaging, it was practically empty. He snuck around to their docks, and snagged a small ship so he could leave Cruciform and all its problems for good.

A New Land

He had very little supplies with him, and by the time he hit Kharlia, Kyorlurn was very malnourished and on the verge of death. He was found by the late Kharlian Drow Lazarus Ssinsuurul, otherwise known as Lazarus Nightsmoke, and taken to live in Thuulstrea. After learning the Kharlian variant of Drowish, Kyorlurn was taken and made into a lowly foot soldier, though his body had been weak from the trip. Through what felt like even more endless training he was brought back to a certain health, though the damage his mother did to his mind never seemed to heal, even after he was taught the new cultures of the Kharlian Drow.

After time, a Drow named Vlos would rise to power within Thuulstrea, during the time of the Xundussan alliance with undead, and - much to Kyorlurn’s dismay - Orcs. Tensions were high between the Dark Elves and the Orcs; the alliance didn’t last long at all, and this was made clear when Cobolt Goregrinder knocked out both Kyorlurn and Vlos, leaving them in the desert to die. Fortunately for them it was still night when they woke, and they managed to get the hell out of there before the sun rose. After the incident, the two Drow became good friends, and Kyorlurn was promoted to fill the position of Velkyn Seke’olath. Much like an assassin, he focused more on speed and stealth, as opposed to force. Eventually, Kyorlurn started dabbling in the arcane workings of Shadow Magic, so he could someday combine it with his fighting.

Around this time is when the Dire Woods started popping up. The labyrinthine forest soon covered most all of Kharlia’s open plains, making travel extremely difficult, especially with the Dire Spiders’ huge population increase. Kyorlurn got lost in the forest, and ended up stumbling into the city of Valikorlia, though nobody seemed to mind his presence - there were quite a few people, all of different nations and races - stuck in the city due to the forest as well. He decided to walk in further, and look around while he could. Unbeknownst to him, there was a group of four crossbowmen stationed atop a building, and one of them took aim. They shot him directly in the right arm, the bolt getting lodged in his bone. He ran off to avoid being shot again, and that’s when he met Nindolen for the first time.

Nindolen Velven was a Drow, yes, but she was also a Valikorlian. A devout Setengarite, she was lifted of the Drowish curse, and was able to walk freely in as much sunlight as she wanted. She was a kind Drow, helping all who needed it, and she helped Kyorlurn too. She brought him to a run-down building, telling him to sit still in the old wooden chair while she tended to his wound. She took out a jar, a nasty green concoction inside of it, and then put it into her mouth to chew it. Nindolen lifted up Kyorlurn’s sleeve, carefully removing the bolt before spitting the chewed-up medicine into his tattooed arm, applying some new bandages afterwards.

That was Kyorlurn’s first real experience with a female Kharlian Drow, and it confused him. Why would she help him, an assassin of Thuulstrea, when she herself was a Setengarite? What was this feeling she gave him? Was it love? No, that couldn’t be…

And then the flood came… Instead of remaining on the island with the rest of the populous, Kyorlurn found his way onto a ship. Nobody on board seemed to really notice or care that there was a Drow among them; they had more important things to worry about. As for himself, Kyorlurn couldn’t stop thinking about Nindolen, and what she had done for him. He wished to see her again, so very badly, but he didn’t even know if she was alive anymore…

Lost Years

They had been out in the water for days. By now, he wasn’t thinking about anything anymore, as if he were comatose. And then they finally hit the shore… it was still Kharlia, yes, but the Flood’s results were catastrophic, rearranging the very physical makeup of the continent. He didn’t know where to go, and all his friends were gone… and so… Kyorlurn found Bogs Deep, a place that resembled Endraal quite closely, taking refuge in a small abandoned home. He remained there for many days, weeks, months, years, decades, all alone, with nothing but himself and his things, safely packed into his crimson bag. Occasionally he would venture into the nearest towns and take what he could without being caught, though it was never much. And so, alone, with all of his friends gone - dead, most likely - he did the only thing he could think of. He wrote.

Eventually he was found by a certain Drow, known only as The Watchman. It had been at least twenty-five years since Kyorlurn had seen another Drow, and so he found himself nigh forced to follow him. Eventually they found another ex-Thuulstrean, named Igna Equil'Tar, and the trio caused quite a bit of chaos for some time. The height of their adventures was when, using cover of night, the three drunk Drow threw Molotov cocktails through the windows of the Darkblade Fort - RIGHT after it had been rebuilt from another fire.

Even still, Kyorlurn felt… out of place. The Watchman assumed that because of Kyorlurn’s height, that automatically made him strong. This wasn’t true at all, but Kyorlurn never complained, so he was stuck carrying all of their supplies. It put a great strain on his already malnourished body, making him quite sick, though it was never shown. Eventually he got fed up with it and left, returning to Bogs Deep alone, taking all of their supplies with him. He never saw The Watchman again after that, though occasionally he did see his friend Igna.

Over time, even people would begin to wander into Bogs Deep, having found it as well. One of these people was Lucifer Drakkan, a Human Necromancer. They forged a shaky friendship using their love of dark magics as a base, and Lucifer agreed to helping Kyorlurn find any and all remaining Drow on Kharlia. Slowly, but surely, they were able to find a fair deal of Drow. Among these Drow were Var'doegh Elcahl, Bahk'tess Khalith, Ukali Nendar, Lotha Zha'trassen, Zah’har/Jiv'undus Maglust, Lua Veer, and Sil'Fer Telios. Kyorlurn was completely aware of Sil’Fer’s impure blood as he had one human parent, but he couldn’t let something like that bother him now. He needed all the help he could get. For a long time this group lived in the bog, disposing of any non-Drowish passerby that was unfortunate enough to stumble in. This was also the time when Kyorlurn began an interesting relationship with Bahk’tess.

Kyorlurn quickly became bored of their group’s violent shenanigans, and decided it was time for them to leave. Ultimately they moved into the crypts past Valdyr, finding their way down into the old Thuulstrean ruins from there, and he couldn’t believe it. Everything was old, ruined, corroded. There wasn’t a soul in sight, save for their small group. They decided to live there in what was left of the once great city, since it was safer than the Bog. Oddly enough, of all the buildings in the ruins, there was one particular building that had a completely refurbished inside and full of little clockwork gadgets. While in there, Kyorlurn became very, very sick, and passed out for two days. During his unconsciousness he had some sort of dream. The goddess Searith appeared to him, pointing to the north. He woke up afterwards in a terrible sweat, not quite understanding the dream. It was later discovered that all Southern Drow - that is, all Drow who had lived on Cruciform during the time - had the same dream. Kyorlurn was already in the north, and had no need to move, so he waited for their arrival. With the help of Gatsoven Farious and his many followers, they were able to rebuild a new Thuulstrea right beneath the old ruins. It seemed the Drow had yet another new home, a dark and isolate place where they could thrive without being hindered in the slightest.

Unsurprisingly enough, it soon went downhill. Kyorlurn was called away - By who, nobody knows save for him - and so he left for Cruciform. Before he left, however, Kyorlurn put Bahk'tess and Var'doegh in charge while he was gone, leaving Thuulstrea and it's populace in their control. Ukali, however, saw Kyorlurn's leave as the perfect opportunity to rise to power, and so he did. Forming a very large house named Ni'Lithria, Ukali Nendar and his mate Xunthiera Ni'Lithria, from what was understood, defeated house Helviiryn with ease. During this civil war, however, humans had tunneled down into the city, launching their own attack on the population. And it seemed that, once again, Thuulstrea was destroyed.

Returning…

About a year later, Kyorlurn finally came back from his trip, only to find the city in shambles. Most of the population had been killed not only from the civil war, but from the attack the humans had launched right afterwards. He could hardly believe it. Everyone was pointing fingers, blaming each other, though through what he had heard it seemed that Bahk’tess was to blame. And she had other children now, something that bothered him greatly, considering he never slept with another woman - not even his first crush Nindolen. Even still, he wouldn’t show any negative feelings towards Bahk’tess’s children, even if they weren’t his.

Kyorlurn didn’t seem to show many negative feelings at all, actually, even though the city he had worked so hard to bring back had been destroyed by the faults of his old friends. He forced all of the surviving Drow out of the city’s remains, and for a long time they would wander the surface. Some returned to Laboo, while others went far to the west, to the Olcas Ruta mage tower. After they had left, Kyorlurn left as well, venturing for some unknown land. He returned a long while later, and a few months after that, even more Drow started coming from the same direction…

Foreigners, it seemed. Drow from Cruciform, Ilythiil, and Vautspachl had all come on what seemed like a single man’s whim. It was odd, how one Drow could have such influence over their foreign kin, even if the Istosuru family was large on Vautspachl. Another race would be introduced to Kharlia as well, known only as the Chakohle. These furry creatures seemed to be close friends to the foreign Drow, and so they all worked together, rebuilding Thuulstrea once more under Kyorlurn’s rule.

Occasionally, Kyorlurn ventured northwest to the Olcas Ruta, visiting all of his old friends. It was fortunate he left when he did, however, as soon afterwards Ganelon’s entirety was turned into undead due to Gideon’s tampering with The Obelisk. This could have brought unwanted attention to the Drow, so those few who had gone to live with the Olcas Ruta left as well, though Var’doegh remained. The effects of The Obelisk struck Kyorlurn very, very harshly. With all of his Illusion and Shadow magics stripped from him, he was forced to re-attune himself with the arts. Luckily, as one devoted to his studies, recovery took much shorter than anticipated. Around this time was when he started having problems, though, particularly with his right arm. He had been shot there many years ago, and Nindolen was the one to help him, but that wasn’t the problem here. Kyorlurn has never mentioned it to anyone, however.

Over time, even more Drow and Chakohle poured into the city, and Thuulstrea was finally becoming what Kyorlurn had always wanted it to be. A haven for his kind and their friends, there were no conflicts here, as it was completely isolated from the surface-world. Through all of the work he had done, Kyorlurn managed to regain his physical health, and even surpass his past strengths and speed. His right eye - the one he was blind in, also a discolored gray - had become a bright crimson once again. But through what magics…?

Things were wonderful for a long while, though once more, Kyorlurn fell into what seemed like a depression. Only when his love Bahk’tess was nearby could his spirit be lifted, otherwise he was mostly unresponsive. He took up the hobby of writing and drawing with his eyes closed, though refuses to look at things he has made this way. Even he doesn’t know what he creates, now.

A Chakohle scout had just returned from their early-morning shift, reporting an unmarked Drowish fort about a mile north of Thuulstrea’s location. The fort was assumed hostile, having shot at the Outrider while he rode past. Kyorlurn didn’t want to take any chances, and so, he had the commander Che'kas-Zehk send in his finest troops. Of sixty men on the enemy side, fifty-eight were killed. The two survivors - Ukali Nendar, and his son, Ki’noraz - were completely surrounded and outnumbered, let alone cornered inside a burning building. Kyorlurn wanted to kill Ukali so very badly; he wanted to make him pay for everything he had done, especially the civil war between Helviiryn and Ni’Lithria. Though after Kyorlurn chewed out Ukali for everything that he could possibly think of, Ukali realized the position he was in, and thrust both his swords into the ground.

An old wolf does not die happily. A warrior all his life, he knows not how to hunt for food when his fangs fall out..

Ukali’s last words, before the burning building collapsed on top of him. Before he died, Kyorlurn swore to Ukali that he wouldn’t even be a memory, though those words still remain stuck in the back of his mind. After the older Nendar’s death, Ki’noraz was apprehended and killed by Kyorlurn himself, by a simple slicing of the throat.

The Angel of Death

Kyorlurn brought the news of the previous battle to the rest of Thuulstrea. Xunthiera was furious. Because of Kyorlurn, a man that she loved was dead, and also her own son Ki’noraz. After Xunthiera left the room, David entered, also furious. Even though he wasn’t particularly fond of Ukali, that didn’t change the fact that he was his father, and Ki’noraz his brother. Kyorlurn told him what he thought.

I apologize for your loss, but I won’t apologize for what happened.

It seemed the towering Drow had regressed to his previous self; that is, the same strict Drow who had once served in Old Thuulstrea’s ranks. Nobody really bothered him after that, but his trips down to the city were getting less frequent. Kyorlurn remained in his room, writing, talking to only those brave few who dared to venture in.

And again, Kyorlurn wrote, and wrote, and wrote. When his fourteenth book ran out of blank pages, he grabbed his fifteenth, and filled that one up too. Same with the sixteenth, and seventeenth, and eighteenth, and so on…

"What does this look like to you?"
He smiled, turning the open book towards the other, but kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to see what he had drawn.
The Angel of Death parted the clouds, and descended upon the earth.

Windcross

An intruder had taken Kyorlurn's adopted daughter hostage, and used her to sneak into the city. After getting inside, he proceeded to dump quite a bit of poison into the city's water supply, not knowing that the Drow were immune to poison. The man managed to escape not knowing that his plan had mostly failed, however quite a few slaves became very sick from the toxins. Kyorlurn ordered for the military to get rid of all infected slaves, so those healthy ones that were left would not get sick as well.

It was only a few days later before more problems arose. It seemed that a large group had discovered Cahfei's portal leading to Thuulstrea's entrance, and they were soon on the city's doorstep. Those guards who were stationed that day decided not to kill them on sight, and allowed them the chance to leave. The trespassers took the chance, and Kyorlurn took it upon himself to destroy the portal afterwards. The spell he had used seemed to put him in a very sour mood.

He laid down to rest, though even while sleeping he found no peace. Kyorlurn was plagued with terrible nightmares, the content of which will not be disclosed here. He jumped awake and immediately rose, got dressed, and left. There was something he had to do.

It was going to be a long month.

Noutarask's End

This was many months later; the time in between consisted of protecting his people from the Abyssal menace on Vautspachl. When they saw they could not win the fight, Kyorlurn helped establish a large group consisting of those who survived. They later migrated to Cruciform, where they founded New Sjafor.

Kyorlurn was ecstatic to learn of Noutarask's "death", but this feeling was quickly overcome by sorrow when he learned that Armadeus Xxian was also sucked into the Oblivion Void. Kyorlurn has spent many weeks going through all of his old notes, looking for any possible way he could rescue his friend from an eternity of torment. He has many ideas of what could be done, but is afraid of the consequences.

The War

Along with the rest of the Councilmen - at least, those who were fit enough for battle - Kyorlurn traveled with their troops to Vautspachl, eager to finally combat the Abyssals spread around their sacred lands. Many friends went with him as well, including Bahk'tess Khalith, his significant other. It was somewhat of a big deal to him, since he usually went off on such trips alone, but he was happy that she was there. Their young daughter, Tariel, would temporarily remain in the care of several Drowish workers back on Cruciform until the war was over.

No select individual played a major role in the war, not even Kyorlurn. Working as a single unit, their troops were swift, devastating the various unholy creatures around the chain. Mournirra had their own losses as well, but they would not let something like that hinder them. They had one goal: the reclamation of their homeland, no matter the cost.

Returning to an Old Path

Finally deciding he should retire from not only councilman, but any position in Mournirra's government, Kyorlurn now takes his time for his own interests. After being a man of his people for decades, he lost sight of what he really wanted. With an impressive personal library of books and other information he's collected over the years, he's considered more of a scholar than anything else, though now aims to become adept in fields of magic otherwise forgotten or used very little.

The Clandestine Scheme

Kyorlurn spent a lot of time away, alone, within the confines of his Sjafor home. To his friends and family, it looked as though his mind was gone for good; he rarely went out and about, not even sacrificing ample time for his own children. Countless days and nights were spent studying his notes, both old and new, as he discovered by his own hands that magic's uses knew no bounds.

But it was only a matter of time before he came out again, talking of knowledge, life, and love, like he had done in years past. Feeling rejuvenated and finally awakened, he returned to his family and friends to try and describe to them what he came to know. Some looked at him with skepticism, but it soon became clear that there was nothing to joke about with this once old, but now young, Drow.

He thought of all he had learned, and it made him contemplate his past. What had he truly done with his life? Kyorlurn was always a man of his people, and came to realize that he still was, but he could not worry about returning to them yet. He had other things on his mind, other plans, other agendas. And so, after making sure he was satisfied with how far his magical knowledge had come, he began to formulate a most ingenious scheme...

Grisen Tau

((His name alternates between Kyorlurn and Grisen depending on other people, or what he is doing and thinking, as nobody knew Grisen was Kyorlurn, and nobody knew Grisen worshipped Searith, etc.))

Becoming the Deceiver, Introducing Grisen Tau

He felt so alive again. The same way he felt many long months, and even years, ago. Kyorlurn crafted for himself what eventually became a perfect disguise, concealing his appearance, changing his height, his voice, and even his mana signature, through complex illusions and temporary arcane changes. And, taking up the secret name of Grisen Tau, he not only tied up loose ends, but wriggled his way into many interesting situations.

His first target was, of course, the mage tower of Ignis. Even when Kyorlurn had Lythari as his doctor, he never cared for Shival at all, but it was more than a personal grudge. Various members of the Ignis Fatuus, he came to see during the several weeks of his infiltration, used their magic so heedlessly... an idea that angered him quite a bit. But also looking at previous incarnations of the Ignis Fatuus guild, he knew that their endless determination would bring them back no matter how many times they were destroyed. Nonetheless, seeing that priceless look on Shival's face as the Mana Well burst before her, well... it was certainly worth it. And it was that night, that expression, and that explosion, that awakened so many old feelings within him once again.

Pulling such an outrageous stunt was never beyond him, but if he were the same man as he was five years ago, he never would have been able to do it. But even now, he could not do it alone, so Kyorlurn - as Grisen - approached Issenval, the leader of the Leeway Brigade, whispering the truth to him through the shadows as they spoke nothing aloud but lies. It was the Leeway who supplied him with the necessary apparatus. Kyorlurn didn't care where they got it, but as long as they could figure out how to use it, and use it successfully, he would assist his new blue-skinned acquaintance with whatever it was he needed.

Weakening Ties, and the House of Troubles

Following the destruction of the Ignis tower, Kyorlurn sought safety, and knew that he would not be able to find it with the Leeway Brigade - especially with them becoming wanted terrorists. He took all other organizations into account, eventually coming to a single conclusion: The House of Troubles. Kyorlurn was not a practitioner of any kind of holy magic, but still a worshipper of Searith, and would use his magic secretly in her name. His time spent serving the House of Troubles was short, but interesting, as he defended their desecrated temple from various enemies. He honestly cared little for the House itself, but more than often, Kyorlurn is a man of his word. They rubbed his back, so he rubbed theirs, until they were no more.

The Olcas Mearog

It felt strange, being alone once again... He wondered if he should try to join another group, but there were none that he found interesting, among those who would accept him. Always kept in a nefarious loop, however, he caught wind of the Olcas Mearog, the new incarnation of the Olcas Ruta. Headed by Jarlath Kathel, he accepted the invitation, showing his prowess through shared services. Kyorlurn was never a fan of the Olcas, and he certainly did not like Dalmar, but any chance at finding an accepting group was something he found to be worth it.

A Change of Clothes, and the Necromantic Cabal

He spent some time wandering, exploring Kharlia, taking in everything he was too busy to see before. Kyorlurn stopped to smell the flowers, making it a daily routine to walk through either Laboo or Mournglade.

Soon growing weary of his appearance, he sought something more... eccentric. Something that could express how he truly felt, but could also be remembered, and make it very clear what he was in terms of class. It took quite some time to sew, and even longer to enchant, but by this time, he had plenty of practice. Black, gray, brown, and gold, these were the colors used.

Kyorlurn wished to make his identity known, but knew that it would have to wait - especially with several recent discoveries. It was around this time that he became acquainted with Rou Uchima, as well as the Drowish Shadowmancer known then as Sy’thuis. He looked at both as nothing but children, though acknowledged the fact that they were striving for more knowledge of the forbidden arts. While he cared little for Sy’thuis, and even less for Rou, he decided he would try to teach them life lessons through experience - if they accepted his presence.

The Legion of Inferno

Soon after, he learned of the Legion of Inferno, a group of supposedly renegade “Abyssals” who were terrorizing Kharlia’s lands. Led by an enormous and powerful demon named Xuicuite, they sought mortal servants and gave them power in exchange for their souls. Hearing of this, Kyorlurn pondered his own course of action. He hated Abyssals because of what happened on Vautspachl, but he was also familiar with other Abyssals who were not so bent on destruction. As for the Legion, they sounded less than friendly, and after hearing how Xuicuite had taken Rou Uchima’s soul, Kyorlurn thought of something a little sinister...

Piercing a Disguise, and Caedril Rossil

After what had happened with Ignis, Kyorlurn paid them little mind, no longer caring about the mage guild’s agenda. But once he heard that Caedril Rossil was the new Magister, he stopped to think about this fact. Caedril Rossil... he wondered, remembering a time years before. Oh, yeah... he then remembered: Caedril Rossil, the Ignis mage, a green-haired fellow. Kyorlurn had never met him in person, but he read about him in Nikolaos Akh-Sera’s mission report, back when Kyorlurn was still on the Mournirran Council. It was then he decided he should meet this man, still under the disguise of Grisen Tau.

Sneaking into Caedril’s room, he activated the arcane locks on the Magister’s door while the green-haired fellow’s nose was in a book. After becoming aware of Grisen’s presence, and after Grisen made it very clear who he was and what he had done in the past, Caedril was much less than thrilled to see him. The visit would be a pre-cursor to something much greater, but as for now, Grisen only had a few things to say. He did have something very interesting to share with Caedril, however. Something very interesting indeed.

The Ivan Wave, and Xuicuite’s Humiliation

He spent quite some time preparing for what was to come. After the Ivan Wave had backfired, Kyorlurn investigated the effects, only to discover that Xuicuite had fallen unconscious because of the failed ritual. This was wonderful news for him, especially with what he had planned.

A snicker resounded in his head as he emerged up through the darkness. “Where am I, again?” He wondered, looking around, laying on the floor. Something was above him, but he knew not what, then he finally remembered what he was doing. The costumed being peeked out from beneath the enormous bed, spotting an intimidating guard in each corner... but none of them would resist what he had up his sleeve. From the safety of the shadows beneath, he weaved arcane magics through the air and ears of the guards. They fell fast asleep, and he wriggled out from beneath the bed, turning to observe the being that laid above.

“Xuicuite, hmm?” He spoke aloud to himself, the colossal outsider laying unconscious before him. Letting out a sigh, he climbed up on top, heedlessly retrieving Rou’s soul from around Xuicuite’s neck. Patting the demon on his large cheek, he laughed, wondering what else he could do. Oh, he knew... he knew what he would do.

And on Xuicuite’s face, he painted a large comical smile, with sweet pink hearts around his eyes.

The Fragility of Man

Kyorlurn had no intention of giving Rou back his soul, until Rou could prove himself to him. He presented the necklace he had taken from Xuicuite, and Rou fell to his knees before Grisen, the foundations of his being shaken by the fact that this man held his very life within his palm. It was then that Rou told him of many things. Plans, secrets, and people... And after those fast fifteen minutes, Kyorlurn realized how fragile man could be. Rou showed himself to be absolutely spineless, so Grisen explained to him what he needed to do. If Rou wished to be one with his soul once again, he would have to either beat Skull-King in a duel - to prove to Grisen that he was a real mage, and not just a student - or beat Grisen himself.

Rou did not try either, so far.

Catching Sight of the Skull-King

He had heard the name Skull-King quite a bit, but knew little more than what whispers traveled through the dark, until he finally saw the Boneforged during one of his Mournglade strolls. Grisen was on his way out, but he would remember Skull-King’s appearance, as well as his mana signature.

A Meeting Gone Awry, and the Rhyming Death Knight

Several weeks later, Grisen ran into Rou and Sy’thuis in Mournglade once again. From what they told him, he learned that Rou’s pub in Esthras had been completely raided by officials. He honestly thought it was funny, a necromancer trying to run a pub in the most anti-necromantic city in the three Kharlias, and didn’t know what to say.

Unfortunately, while the three were talking, they were suddenly surrounded. Both Rou and Sy’thuis chose to escape through the shadows, and while Grisen could have done the same, a feeling in his gut made him only tilt his head and run on foot. It was a strange feeling, and something he hadn’t felt in many years. He knew he would not be able to outrun the rogue who chased him through the woods, but he tried nonetheless, and failed. Grisen was captured, his belongings confiscated, and was brought into custody. At least the rogue, Agramont, hadn’t figured out how to disable Kyorlurn’s disguise.

He was put into a cell for quite some time, trying to smooth-talk his way out. Over the course of a week, he was subject to some rather odd tortures, surprisingly none at the hands of Esthras officials. Christof Aymas came in and began his prophetic ramblings. Grisen would have none of it, and promptly kept his voice at bay with magic, but Christof froze Grisen’s foot to the floor in retaliation before leaving. And then Eldyvrin came, his visit a bit less tame than Christof’s. If not for the arrival of Artius’, surely Eldyvrin would have continued beating Grisen with earth magic. But with the way Grisen was reacting, who knows...? Perhaps he would have enjoyed it.

He had a good feeling he was going to be released, but whether they were going to or not would never be known; Dreadmoore, a death knight who spoke only in rhymes, came into the Esthras jail and had slain all of the guards. Kyorlurn recognized him, not through the way he looked, but the way he felt, as well as his voice and the fact that he rhymed: He knew it was Aeolus, a man he had once oh-so-long ago, but he had nothing to say. What could he, anyway, lest he blow his cover? After a long battle and some rather complicated situations, Aeolus released Grisen, and asked a favor of him. Grisen agreed; it was no skin off of his back.

The Legion’s End, Nuzalheim’s Touch

Grisen’s winged scouts were always around Kharlia, and once he was informed of a large group going through Laboo, he personally investigated. The group, led by a warlock named Mogane, was heading in to the Legion of Inferno’s base to put an end to their havoc once and for all. Grisen himself only assisted with the slaying of the first demon, but he noticed something odd, finally being this close to them. The group moved farther in, and he wanted to prove his suspicions true. Grisen shadowjumped past Alichino and Rubicante, but was sure to touch both of them with his bare forefinger, ever so gently. Neither of them felt the touch as they were busy in combat, but it was at that point he realized something. A wicked smile crept across his concealed face, and he went to the far left corner of Xuicuite’s bedroom, taking Sornilzt Qualnryn with him. They, as well as the rest of the group, were just in time to witness Mogane devour the heart of Xuicuite, not a demon, but a devil.

With his interactions with three of the devils of the Legion of Inferno, especially his close encounter with Xuicuite, Kyorlurn was finally able to replicate devil’s blood. What he would use this for was unknown, but it reminded him of the Abyssals he once fought on Vautspachl as well. Surely he could replicate the blood of a demon, too, couldn’t he? He wondered on it, until finally he tried, with success. Ecstatic, he began investigating the matter right away, a certain goal in mind.

Pronymia, the Succubus

Kyorlurn may have been a Drow, but he’s learned that to truly understand all things in life, you must first learn to appreciate them to some degree. Observing one of various flowered bushes in Mournglade, Pronymia, Mogane’s Succubus, flew down from the sky - supposedly looking for Grisen. She insisted she wanted to know him better, to understand the mysteries of his mind, the man behind this mask, but lucky for Kyorlurn, his strong will and faith in his magic would protect him from being seduced. He had his own fun with the Succubus, letting her almost get close before walking away each time, rolling into another topic... until finally she left, and he laughed to himself.

Before her departure, he did say one final thing to the she-devil. “We will meet again, Pronymia... but not because I called for you. ”

Meeting Skull-King

Later in the day, he decided to formally meet the man called Skull-King that he had heard so much about, especially from Rou. Seeking out the Boneforged’s desert hut, he shadowjumped inside, the pitch-darkness of the room making him feel right at home. At first, he had many things he wanted to ask the Boneforged, but during their conversations, he came to a powerful realization. Skull-King, no matter what he looked like, or anyone for that matter, was only a man. The thought made him smile, though nobody could see it. He, too, was a man; Kyorlurn had been through much in his lifetime, but he would never lose sight of his true self.

The two talked of Rou, and magic, and it was revealed that Skull-King sent Pronymia to try and seduce Grisen. But since Grisen was able to resist the Succubus, Skull-King was stuck between three very wrong but very funny conclusions: Grisen was either a female, or he was a homosexual, or he had no sexual organs at all.

Sornilzt’s Mission

Sornilzt informed Kyorlurn of his mission, his plans to unite various Drow cities through whatever means necessary. Kyorlurn was highly skeptical; when he himself was Patriarch, he was against harming other Drow establishments unless they posed a threat to Thuulstrea or Mournirra, but before he would tell Sornilzt his opinion, he decided to think it over. The world was coming into a new era, as was the world beneath, the Underdark. With how many secret threats had been arising both on the surface and in the darkness below, he wondered if it was the right thing to do, and had been all along. Kyorlurn always supported the preservation of Searith's power through the preservation of her people, but seeing his kin united, he felt, would definitely be worth much more than the lives of those lost in achieving it.

Joining the Conquest, and Convincing the Council

A short while after performing the alteration, his thoughts shifted back to Sornilzt’s plan for unrelated reasons. Kyorlurn remembered when he was only a simple foot soldier, striving to serve and kill in the name of his people and their goddess, but it was so long ago. Now, decades later, after various incarnations of their once ruined city Thuulstrea, he wondered if he should join the fight once again. It was only a little more than a year ago when he left his place in Drowish society, but now that he felt his studies were finished, he couldn’t go a day without thinking about the life he left behind. He did not regret leaving, not one little bit, but he had left only to read and research until he had nothing left to learn. So, it was then he came to a decision. Kyorlurn decided, now that he could finally grasp what it was that he wanted for so long, he would take this new knowledge and return to where he truly belonged - with his people.

Kyorlurn spoke with Sornilzt about how he felt, and how proud of him he was. After thinking hard, wondering if the new Patriarch was making the right decision, he finally agreed. He would love nothing more than to see their dark race united under one banner, the banner of Mournirra, and maintain a vast and powerful force that would survive for centuries to come. Kyorlurn knew he had put the right man in charge of Thuulstrea, now. After receiving the position of Sornilzt’s advisor, Kyorlurn took his opinion back to the Mournirran Council of 7, and convinced them to lend their forces to the greater good - and evil.

Beating the Undead Horse, and Meeting the Raven Yet Again

It was a rather uneventful day for Grisen, and so, he made a trip to the Dragon’s Belly Inn - not for a drink, or to spend the night, but to see what types of individuals had congregated this time. Sitting on the balcony, he listened in on a conversation below; several holy men spoke of the ban on magic, something that he, as Kyorlurn, hated and supported at the same time. While he felt that anyone should be able to practice what they want, he was also glad. Standing up, he called them out, arguing that now all mages could feel the discrimination of those who practice dark magic. All mages were made equal, in his eyes, and if dark magic could never become ‘legal’, then other magics should become and remain ‘illegal’, as they too can and are used for evil purposes from time to time.

The holy man known as Patrus, argued with Grisen for quite some time. Seeing that Patrus was just another blinded zealot, Grisen gave up his side, considering the man to be a lost cause.

After leaving the Dragon’s Belly Inn, he went to Mournglade to tend to one of his many gardens. Ironically, Karasu Burakku, the Raven and Reaper, was tending to his own garden nearby. The two met and spoke, and after a lengthy discussion, Karasu decided that, in his eyes, Grisen was worthy enough to use - among other things - the dark art of Necromancy. Having a small history with the Raven, Kyorlurn was rather happy to hear this, not wanting to combat Karasu. Instead, he told Karasu of the necromancer Rou, and Rou was promptly added to Karasu’s blacklist.

Skull-King and the Statue

For reasons unknown to Tau, Skull-King approached him and asked for a deal. Skull-King needed a cleric strong enough to desecrate the grounds of a holy statue, but knew not where to find one. Grisen, familiar with the dark market, contacted an old acquaintance who completed this task for him. In return, Skull-King gave Grisen his enchanted staff, which contained the soul of a devil.

The Magister and the Snake

Three men sat around a table, talking about the mundane. How things were going, what happened that day, and all sorts of boring things. Grisen was at least happy to see Teizo was still alive and well, but Teizo had no idea that Grisen was Kyorlurn. Sornilzt knew, of course, but also knew not to tell his blue-skinned friend.

After some while of thinking, Grisen formulated an idea. "What if", he said to his friends, what if the three of them could somehow join the Ignis Fatuus? It sounded impossible at this point, especially with the public knowledge that Grisen assisted the Leeway. But with all magic outlawed by the Empire, it made plenty of sense to him. They could go to Ignis, as enemies, but with a common enemy: the Empire. It's like that old saying goes, but he wondered if Caedril would ever agree to something like that, when this new Magister was nothing like the old Magistrix, or even the Magisters prior to her rule. Sornilzt and Teizo agreed to try this idea, but they left it up to Grisen to convince the Ignis, something that he knew would be difficult.

The Magister's room was a place he had often been to, and he was very familiar with it. Going in and out without being seen was no issue for Grisen, and again, he locked the door as well as he could. Speaking with the ever-wary Magister, Grisen made a proposition. He, as well as his two friends Sornilzt and Teizo, would not only stray away from the Empire, but would help the Ignis and Durandal fight against them. Sure, it seemed like they hated the Ignis, but they hated the Empire much more. It sounded like a good idea to Grisen, but Caedril was unmoved. Questioning Grisen's intelligence and position as a mage, the Magister insulted him deeply, saying he was nothing but self-proclaimed. If there was one thing that made Grisen's blood boil, it was having his prowess questioned by a peer. Not once had he insulted the Magister - perhaps as a person, but certainly not as an Archmage. Kyorlurn would never do such a thing... not to Sornilzt, Artius, Alavor, River, and certainly not to Caedril. Infuriated by the Magister's decision, Grisen challenged him to a magic duel, to decide who was right.

The terms of the duel were simple. If Grisen won, then Caedril would be forced to let him, Sornilzt, and Teizo all join the Ignis as members, with full membership rights and general protection from the rest of Ignis as well as Durandal. If Caedril won, then the three men would still be in Ignis - but not as members. As workers, who would have to follow Caedril's orders completely for the duration of the war.

The two men agreed, and Grisen used a special item so nobody may interfere with their duel, the Gavel of Honor. Yet, there was something he realized. Whether he won or lost, the terms of the duel could both be considered a win for Ignis. He himself did not mind, yet wondered if the Magister noticed at all. Passing off this thought, the two men fought for hours, Caedril having the first move. In the end, it was Grisen who won, by what the Magister still considers an unfair technicality - but Caedril knew that a loss was a loss.

Meeting the Highlord

Interested in recovering the lost cathedral of the Legion of Inferno, Kyorlurn wandered around the collapsed entrance, wondering if it was worth it at all. From behind, three men approached him, immediately interrogating him based on his appearance. It was Highlord Khuraed the Absolver, and two of his men. It was an occurrence that worried him at the start, but he soon became increasingly comfortable, and was able to leave without a fuss...

Encountering Eldyvrin, again...

Grisen was happy with his victory over Caedril, and happy that he could once again walk freely among the Ignis Fatuus, like he had done before, even before the tower that he assisted in destroying. Eldyvrin, a High Elf professor of earth magic at the Ignis Fatuus, hated Grisen for what he had done. Yet no matter how much Eldyvrin irritated him, flicked pebbles, threw rocks, or made him stumble, Grisen did not retaliate. He insisted that his intentions on Ignis were good, they simply appeared evil because of his past reputation, and his proficiency with the dark arts.

The Lich, Archonus

Archonus, a well-known Lich, and a man once known as Absalom, was seen on the Ignis isle. Not necessarily to speak with anyone there, but to research a theory. There was a rule of no undead on the Ignis, however, especially not a Lich. The moment the Magister caught sight of the Lich, he ordered all peacekeepers and available mages to come to defense. Grisen himself was not there, but one of his tiny, leathery-winged agents was. The small bat landed upon Caedril’s shoulder, whispering this-and-that into the Magister’s ear, but it was knocked down as the Magister was sent flying back by a magical attack.

The tiny bat, bruised but not too injured, waddled awkwardly up to the Lich while under Grisen’s control. It crawled into the Lich’s cape, following him as he teleported, and the two emerged on the opposite side of the Isle while everyone else thought Archonus was gone. Grisen inquired as to why the Lich was even here, and what on earth he was doing, noting an interesting magical apparatus Archonus was using. He explained his theory to Grisen, and while it sounded extraordinary, Kyorlurn himself wondered if such a thing could be true.

A Lesson... Not Learned

Grisen paid the Magister another visit, explaining to him that he truly meant no harm, and the constant attacks on his life while on the Ignis isle were becoming a major problem. Caedril did say he would speak with Eldyvrin, but then another issue arose; recalling Caedril being unable to cast what looked like a simple spell, the prismatic bow, Grisen demanded something strange. He demanded that the Magister shoot him, of course, Caedril did not understand why. Refusing to comply with such a sudden and unusual request, Grisen tried to provoke the man by throwing the stool at him.

The stool struck the Magister in the chest, fracturing several ribs, and sent him crashing into his canvas - and through the window. Luckily, Caedril didn't fall miles to his death; his leg got caught in the window frame, and all he could see was the distant land below as he struggled to breathe. After some quick thoughts of contemplation, Grisen hoisted the Magister up, effectively saving his life even if he was the one who put him there.

Caedril went to the medical wing, but they were unable to find an injury on him.

More, and more, and more...!

He often wished he could get Caedril to study with him, but the human was always either too busy, out and about, or completely unwilling to go anywhere with Grisen. Stuck studying by himself again, it at least gave him the time to seek more power, but not through power itself.

Kyorlurn's connection with magic as a whole was already beyond the minds of many, yet he always felt like he wanted more. Observing other mages of the present and past, as well as major figures of power, including the late devil Xuicuite, he concocted and perfected a very sinister way to get what he wanted...

The Magister's Predicament

The Ignis Fatuus was becoming increasingly irritated with their Magister. He never told them anything, and followed Vergoth's orders without question. To make matters worse, he had several shady fellows visiting him often, even aside from Grisen. Becoming fed up, it was Shival who came in to yell and try to talk some sense into the Magister, demanding he tell her how and why this was happening - and, more importantly, why Grisen was even allowed on the isle.

It was a difficult thing for the Magister to say, but Grisen made it very clear that if Caedril did not speak, then he himself would. Caedril had a hard time accepting defeat, claiming Grisen's means in the duel were cheap, unfair, and underhanded... which they might have been, but they broke no rules. Nobody on the Ignis except for Kyorlurn, Sornilzt, and Teizo, truly knew how and why they were there. But now being put in a very bad position, the Magister explained to Shival precisely what happened, and explained the duel to her. In a sudden enraged move, she climbed up onto the Magister's desk and tried to kick him in the face, but her foot met a magical defense on Grisen's end. She did not appreciate this at all, thinking perhaps that Grisen had Caedril under his control, but both men insisted this was not the case. Unfortunately, she did not believe either of them, so Grisen cleared his throat and shared an idea.

He challenged Shival to a magic duel, a simple idea, with very simple terms.

"If I win, you will no longer question the Magister's authority. If you win, I will leave this isle."

Similar to Grisen's duel with Caedril, both terms were a general win for the Ignis. But the she-witch, too blinded by her own rage and pride, said she would sooner kill Grisen instead of agree to more reasonable terms. Seeing there was no way to change her mind, he took her words and suggested a duel to the death. Shival finally agreed.

Another End of the Embersage, and Revealing the Truth

The duel was quick and humiliating for the poor Felwind, who many, especially those among the audience, had thought to be incredibly powerful. While her power could not be denied, she had challenged an anti-magic mage to a magic duel, and her defeat was inevitable. In the end, she attempted to escape on her magic broom, but Grisen Tau used an arcane grounding spell to make her land onto the island once more. While she was trying to recover, he physically pinned her against the ground and withdrew a jagged-tipped hunting knife. Infront of the entire crowd, Grisen Tau, the one that many had thought to be an ascended Hiven Shade from the Everdark, cast off his disguise, revealing himself to be the drow Kyorlurn Istosuru. Before his former friend Shival could even say a word, he placed the knife against her neck, seeing only her and him there on the field that day, and he ripped the blade through her throat. Teleporting away with Shival's corpse while his allies defended him from the crowd, Kyorlurn took her body to the acid pits deep in Patriarch Sornilzt's Thuulstrea, and left no remains behind.

Wanted: Kyorlurn Istosuru, Grisen Tau

Despite the terms of the duel being very clear, killing Shival enraged Vergoth of Durandal, and while he was later able to resurrect her through the divine power of his sword, Kyorlurn, still flaunting his trademark costume and victory alike, was a wanted man. The reward was a floating island of one's very own, and the control orb to go with it, with any structure built upon it.

The Eclipse, and a Ritual Gone Awry

Kyorlurn, not satisfied despite his victory over a woman who represented everything he stood against, wanted more. Blindly lost in a sea of greed and lust for power, the drow prepared for a coming eclipse, in which the moon Duril would block out all sunlight for only 7 minutes. This was a highly anticipated event among astronomers, drowish or otherwise, and a perfect time for prepared rituals. As if a whispering were in his ear, his rational thought had disappeared, and he was going to give up that which he loved most: his magic. All to his Goddess, Searith, so he may truly show his dedication to her, as one of her many children on and underneath Kharlia. Yet, at the last moment, a glimpse of hope appeared for Kyorlurn. It would still involve sacrifice, but he took the opportunity. Silver tattoos on his arms shimmered with unknown energy as he attempted to strengthen his will, and instead of sacrificing his magic, he sacrificed what he had meant to keep. This corrupt energy became an entity of it's own, a half to a now incomplete drow, who could no longer call himself Kyorlurn. Staggering away from the foiled ritual with his abdomen bleeding profusely, it looked like the end for him - if not for the magic he came so near to giving up.

Wondering Why, and Skull-King's Betrayal

Finding himself in a new state of thought, Grisen wished to return Skull-King's enchanted staff to him as a sign of good faith between them, and for once, there were no strings attached. He felt something strange, something familiar yet different, and lost in a train of thought that was going nowhere, he wondered why. Not expecting anything further to happen, he turned his back on the undead forgewrought, only to find himself trapped by a runic shock collar moments later. Skull-King brought Grisen to Vergoth of Durandal, and retrieved the long-sought-after reward, the floating isle.

A Mysterious Escape, and the "Spineless" Skull-King

It was only two weeks in Durandal's captivity before Grisen found his way out, though the means were never legitimately determined. Strangely, he was no longer wanted by Durandal. With this new freedom, he went straight for the man who turned him in, Skull-King, the Woeforged. Skull-King spent most of his time in Cahfei Shadespeak's old tower, and this was something Grisen found out simply by following along the other necromancer's tail. He found him in a museum of sorts, with a variety of paintings in separate aisles, some of the original paintings still intact. Observing S-K, disguised as a bat, he removed the disguise and approached him directly. Telling the forgewrought that he was making a very powerful enemy, Skull-King insisted that he meant no harm, and he knew Grisen would escape; he simply wanted the flying island. Yet Grisen, not satisfied with Skull-King's reasoning, was going to leave on bad terms. To show his sincerity, Skull-King halted Grisen as he presented the control orb to the floating isle, saying he would give the gained reward to Grisen if he would simply not be his enemy. He hadn't expected the forgewrought to do this, but the dark mage accepted the offer, taking the control orb quickly in his hands. After some final words, he left Skull-King to his paintings.

Leaving Olcas, and the Order of Six Virtues

No longer interested in serving the Dalmarites indirectly through supporting the Olcas Mearog, Grisen diminished all ties with the organization, though said that those willing to follow him were welcome to come. He was working on something new, and something that would not fall or fail. Something that encouraged bravery, both pride and humility, and following what you wished, as long as it was acceptable among this new society. The result of these things was the Order of Six Virtues, a secretive organization and society separate from the Olcas, the Ignis, Durandal, and the Empire.

The Order of Six Virtues

((coming soon))