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Grey

The Archmage of the Sapphire Empire

0 · 2,655 views · located in Skyfall Citadel

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Tearen Wover

Description

APPEARANCE

Eustace 'Grey' Therello is rather tall and somewhat built for someone his age and walks with noble bearing. He wears heavy blue robes with matching hood and cloak at all times, and usually has one or two heavy grimoires lashed to his back with thick leather straps. Grey has a small, trimmed beard and mustache of silver hair, and his head is topped with a mop of white, permanently messy curls. His eyes are a stormy grey and cyan color, and his face is drawn and worn with deep frown lines and crows feet. Grey also has a broad nose and arabian features, all wrought in sun-baked skin.

HISTORY

Grey's role as the Archmage of We'Darastri has been long and arduous. He was 'rescued' as a boy from a trading caravan attacked by Suzerain Tyretlethen, who deigned to let the toddler Eustace live in service as a thrall until the age of thirteen, when the Suzerain begain his magic tutelage. Grey excelled quickly over the years, gaining great skill as a wizard and spellwright, but gaining little in the ways of friends or company. He is of a draconic mindset, more than human, and generally finds the company of his own kind grating and insufferable. As such, he gained great favor in the eyes of Suzerain Tyretlethen, and so the great blue dragon king took Eustace with him on a trip to Terra. There, at the age of 55, Eustace was given oversight on an apprentice from the Suzerain's brood: Theredax. He considers Theredax as a son, despite the dragon princeling now being large that Grey himself. The trio returned to Gaia a few years ago, where Tyretlethen quickly resumed the reigns of his long-standing Sapphire Empire, with Grey right by his side as always. One fateful day, Grey and Theredax were sent away on a crusade against the Skyfall Kingdom, seemingly at random. When at last they were summoned home, Grey returned to find Tyretlethen slain and his favored concubine, Nedelethakor sitting on the Suzerain's throne. Having sworn an oath to the Sapphire Empire itself and not his erstwhile father, Grey is honorbound to serve this new Empress, but does so with little pleasure...



BIO
Age: 63
Race: Human Dragonkith
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 148 lbs.
Meta:
-Hardened Skin
-Elemental Resistance: Lightning
Conditions:
- Arthritis: Lower Back
- Near-Sighted
Strengths:
- Eidetic Memory
Weaknesses:
- Chronic Pain

ASSETS
Wealth: Well-Off
Land:
- Small River Village in Northern Sapphire Desert "Vaethaczil"
- Two Magic Shops in We'Darastri "The Royal Mage" and "Therello's"
- Apartment in Azure Citadel, #201
Notable Equipment:
- Ardenwell
- Ardenfount
- Lens of Soothsight
- Darastric Steel Scimitar "Thurina"
Primary Skills:
- Vancian Wizardry: Abjuration
- Vancian Wizardry: Transmutation
- Research: Archaeology

So begins...

Grey's Story

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Grey arrived at the beach with the larger man, breathing not exactly heavily, but it was definitely apparent he was not the physical type. He knew he should have teleported. Kerrick the Crow roosted on the wizard's jacketed shoulders as Grey strode towards the two unconscious bodies. Blood everywhere, sand tossed up, clothing torn, yadda yadda yadda, he'd seen it all before. With a sight that didn't exactly convey empathy, he thrust his arm out towards the woman, closing his eyes and muttering a long, powerful incantation. The wind whipped up slightly and his hand glowed a with a piercing light as the injuries knitted themselves back together with a somewhat disconcerting slithering sound.

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As the white light faded, Grey took a deep breath and looked at a strange time piece on his hand that illuminated itself. Frowning slightly and tapping it, he turned to the smaller of the two, ironically, the male. His burns looked rather severe, but the damage looked mostly cosmetic. With another breath, he thrust forth his other hand at Xian, the burned skin melting and reforming itself underneath a somewhat dimmer light. It was good he'd decided to prepare these today, though it was a standard precaution for him. Once the work was done, he flicked his fingers in a dextrous way, producing a strangely patterned cigarette. With a brush of his thumb, the cig lighted itself, and the wizard took a deep, greedy breath. He blew the ensuing smoke at the moon overhead, the smoke taking the shape of several lines, framing a set of stars around the lunar circle.

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Grey only plugged his fragrant cigarette into his mouth, speaking with a mild mumble. "Name's Grey." he said, quickly turning his attention back to the stars. With a side though, he flicked his pinky finger and thumb at Doji's kimono, and mumbled "Derenthyx". There was a slight vibration through the air as the small line of magic wrapped and melded with Doji's clothes mending them rather handily. Magic was so very useful, and he hated when people went and used it like a gun instead of a tool. Amateurs. Grey was indeed an elderly wizard, but unlike Ganalf the white of legend, Grey was far more world weary and disillusioned. Grumpy and snide as well, when he felt like it.

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Grey scoffed outwardly. Beyond him indeed! He personally knew the name of the mad daemon sultan that howled blindly at the center of the universe! He had seen the true face of the Crawling Chaos! But that was neither here nor there. If this strange woman wanted to sit on her high horse, then so be it. "That's nothing. Cheap tricks like these are what keep me from feeling like a total lout." he said, taking another drag from his alchemical cigarette. Besides, he thought to himself, there's no point in getting with every beastie and boogie man in the universe.

The setting changes from Wing City Lake: Beach to Gambit's Bar

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There was a small shimmer in the air as the wizard Grey popped into the bar with a small gust of wind, an alchemical cigarette already smoking in his mouth. He withdrew a small arcane text from his jacket pocket, flipping it open to a glowing page. With a small wave of his hand, the page dimmed itself. Kerrick the Crow fluttered seemingly out of nowhere a moment later, landing on Grey's shoulder with a small squawk. Plugging the cig in his mouth, Grey whistled for a bartender as he scribbled in the ancient looking text with a mechanical pencil.

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Grey gave a loud, obvious grunt in the direction of Rika, Xian, and Doji. Why did people feel the need to be so loud in public environments? Kerrick the Crow, his familiar ruffled its feathers and squawked loudly.

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The aging wizard looked up from his ancient arcane tome at Roy, a noticeably inspired young man scouring a mass of scrolls and texts for something Grey did not know what. Casting a small spell, Grey illuminated the page of the book he was reading and shut it, effectively marking the spot. He took out an alchemical cigarette and lit it with a brush of his thumb, exhaling the heady, fragrant, sweet smelling smoke towards the other, younger mage. It was a lesser scrying spell, but Grey really didn't care if he was intruding too heavily.

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Grey decided that intelligent conversation might be more refreshing than a drink at the moment, so he got up from his stool with a grunt and paced over to the younger mage, standing behind him, sucking on his cigarette at regular intervals, shaping the cloud so it stays out of the youth's face as well as his own. It was easy enough stuff to comprehend, but what caught Grey's eye was a scroll on the draconic language, a tongue he himself was fluent in. Speaking up, his gruff voice low and mellow, he spoke a few words, hoping to catch the youth's attention.

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Grey exhaled sharply at the mention of divine magic. Cheating as far as he was concerned. It was like asking someone else to do magic for you. Wizards and their ilk had to dedicate years of their life to learning even the basics of the craft. "I'd stick with alchemy. Far more profitable..." Grey said, his cigarette poofing into a small beetle that Kerrick promptly snapped up. Grey petted the crow's head warmly, a rare smile cracking his lips.

"Kerrick has no reason to assert himself over me. I am a wizard, he is a crow. A terribly smart crow, but a bird nonetheless. Granted, I could make him much more, but I don't think he'd like that." Grey said, flipping to a new blank page in his spell book. He held out his hand and flicked his fingers, a mechanical pencil seeming to materialize instantly between his fingers. He tapped it on his lips, looking for inspiration among the boy's open scrolls.

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Grey traced his finger over the aged, musty smelling document and grunted. It wasn't really his school of magic. Maybe suitable for a necromancer, maybe even a conjurer, but...wait...no THAT was interesting. The properties in this little footnote told of redirecting said energy...if that was true then Grey could concoct all kinds of formulas for repulsive barriers. Not just your average magic shield, oh no, these would actually push things away from you, like two similarly charged magnets. Hmmm...

"That's pretty damn insightful..." Grey said, stroking his beard pensively. He held out his weathered hand across the table. "Name's Grey. Abjurer and Transmuter." the old wizard said, a slight smirk on his face. If the youth took his hand, Grey would recite a few ancient words, casting a spell that would temporarily boost the youth's intelligence.

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There was a small whine in the bar as the wizard known as Grey materialized at the counter, an alchemical cigarette already burning away in his mouth. He took out a small, leather bound note book and scribbled in it with a mechanical pencil. His crow familiar, Kerrick, came a second later from the unseen places guided by magic. He glanced around the bar through his slim spectacles, weathered, weary eyes drinking in details. They came to rest on Elding, with his weapons lying churlishly out on the counter top. The wizard chuckled openly at the buffoonery, conjuring a small floating orb of light to illuminate his page.

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Seeing no tender about, Grey helped himself to a light beer, using Mage Hand to draw the bottle over to him from the open refrigerator. Tapping the top and making the cap pop itself off, the wizard tapped the bottle again, the glass reforming into an intricately carved glass. The wizard tapped a bit of his cigarette's ashes into the liquid, the beer rapidly turning a deep blue and fizzing violently. He took a sip from it with a satisfied sigh, and went back to observing his spell book, Kerrick the crow keeping a vigilant watch for him. The bird was restless with the canines present in the bar.

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Grey chuckled at Dorcha's comment. Taking an offhand puff from his cigarette, the smoke fragrant, almost of lavender. It glittered slightly under the right light, wreathing his head in a strange cloud of mysticism. His voice was dry, old and crackly, weathered from age and addiction. "If I feared repercussion, I wouldn't have been able to earn power like this in the first place. Besides, my tab is older than some of the whiskeys on these shelves, heh." he said. He looked the strange girl over, his steely, weathered eyes squinting slightly between golden framed spectacles. He blew another pensive puff of smoke, and grunted slightly when he spied her twin swords. Ruffian, perhaps? Another self righteous power monger? You could never be afraid to judge a book by its cover around here, they usually spelled themselves out for you pretty quickly.

"What's your story?" the aged wizard asked in a slightly condescending tone, eyebrow raised.

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Grey extinguished his cigarette by reciting a small incantation, the butt turning into a small, glistening beetle which Kerrick the Crow promptly ate. "Only if you knew it already." he said, no sign of amusement on his face. "Name's Grey." he grumbled, not really bothering to ask for hers in return. He took a sip of the blue, fizzy liquid and sighed more than was presumably appropriate. The world weary mage scrutinized her over his glass, the same kind of look someone might receive from a disapproving grandparent. "No story? And yet you carry around two swords and dress like a gothic bar wench in manhattan. If you don't have a story, you're either apathetic, complacent, or full of it. I wonder which it is?" he said, a smirk gracing his weathered face.

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Grey raised an eyebrow to counter her own. "So make your own story. People so caught up in the mysteries of their own beginnings that they can't focus on the road ahead...pah." he said, his elderly voice growling lowly. He took another sip of his strange concoction and drew out another alchemical cigarette, wrapped in a mirror-like paper. He offered it to Dorcha while pulling out another himself. He may be old and grumpy, but he'd be damned before there was a breach of wizardly etiquette on his part. At least a breach he cared to notice.

"Life is overall, too pointless to spend time on pondering where we came from. We should instead try and better our selves to escape the mortal coil of being mere insects in this cold universe..." the wizard rambled.

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Grey puffed a bit of smoke out sharply, not bothering to enchant it in any ways. "Yes, yes it is." he grumbled, slapping his book shut. He gazed at a watch on his wrist, a watch that had eight hands and strange, colored circles rotating slowly as well. "It is time I took my leave of this respite." he said. He stood up with a mild groan, Kerrick hopping onto his shoulder. Closing his eyes lightly, he waved his hands about slowly, withdrawing a small, glittering scale from his jacket pocket. "Majak *Eustace* darastrix lyxliok!" he chanted. After a moment, large, glittering blue dragon wings materialized on his back, the wizard sighing deeply. He finished the rest of his blue, fizzy drink, and nodded to Dorcha. "Have a pleasant evening." he muttered. He walked to the door of Gambit's and opened it. The blue, magically summoned wings stretched wide and he took to the cool skies above...

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Grey blinked into existence on one of the bar's stools, a leery eyebrow raised at the insipid cast before him. There would be no silence tonight. A second later, Kerrick the Crow, the wizard's familiar followed from nowhere as well. Grumbling under his breath, the ancient wizard pull a fancy looking cigarette out of seeming thin air and lit it by brushing his thumb against the tip. He glared at a few of the louder patrons through half moon spectacles as he slammed an ancient looking tome down onto the counter and began to leaf through it.

"Gin!" he barked, not caring if there was a tender about or not.

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Grey looked up to see his fellow arcane studier Roy to be sitting at a table not so far from himself. Muttering a few incantations, keeping the hand patterns toned down. Grey plugged the cigarette in his mouth, crossed his arms, and observed the youth at work. Grey was sure the young mage had potential, and he did indeed seem dedicated to his studies even as he was harangued by the lay folk. The wizard took a sip of his Gin as it was placed beside him, gulping deeply. He glared at Sammie as she burst out, smoke angrily billowing from his mouth.

"Tone it down for the God's sakes! People are trying to relax here, woman!" he rumbled, steely eyes squinting heavily.

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Grey groans, and tosses back a bit more of his Gin, not even gracing Sazuka with a cold stare. "Oh Gods..." he grumbled, getting up to move as a shot thunked into the wall by his head. He sighed deeply and gave Sammie a sidelong stare. "Don't you have a pole to be dancing on somewhere?" he grumbled, moving towards Roy. The cranky wizard stood behind his new friend, and stared at his sheets again, curious as to what his studies were. He raised his eyebrow at the disheveled man trying to draw him from his studies. Lowbrow...

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Grey let a whisp of smoke escape his mouth as he waved his hand briefly. "Spare me..." he seethed, having long abandoned all forms of prestige and honor. "A bar is no place to be formal..." he said, taking another drag from his fragrant cigarette. Seeing the young man fretting with an alchemical light, Grey said a kurt word and tapped the scroll Roy was looking at. It lit up rather nicely, and would last for at least an hour. For a follow up, Grey pinched the small flame between his fingers and flicked it at Amin. He had no remorse for buffoonery. Speaking of that, the whelp wanted to play. Better nip this one in the bud. "Thrikzta potrix *Eustace* nerlinthy." he chanted, closing his eyes and waving his fingers in a circular motion. There, that ought to do it.

Turning his attention back to Roy, Grey asked what the alchemist was studying