2019-01-08: Sphère Catastrophique
- Cutscene: Sphère Catastrophique
- Cast: Timotheus Lovelace
- Where: Krosse Castle
- Date: January 8th, 2019
- Summary: The archmage muses on his research.
BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vB4E7Avgf9g
Shadows cling tightly to the walls of the castle.
As he ascends the stone staircase, Timotheus Lovelace pays them no heed. They are after all as they ever were and doubtless as they continue to be: a hazard for those weak of spirit and will, and them alone.
His steps are slow; age is a merciless bastard, he reflects, all too aware of the protests his body sets forth. All the more reason to make haste, if prudently. He doubts he has the ten or twenty years remaining to him to conduct a properly cautious study. Besides, the last six months he has spent at research at the king's behest have been quite illuminating already. Another six, and he may well be able to crack the enigma and wrench the thing fully under their control.
He ascends at last to the research wing, pausing but a moment to draw a deep breath as he glances down the dimly-lit hall. The flames gutter now, as if caught in some sickly breeze.
Interesting, the elder magus thinks, clutching ever more tightly his staff with gnarled tattooed hands as he regards the flickering flames. Perhaps it would be another observation worth noting. The object has undergone certain transitions over the last few months. Perhaps this is but another.
So be it.
His staff taps a dull staccato across the stone floors of Krosse Castle as he proceeds towards the laboratory.
A young scholar of the court nearly bumps right into him as he enters the chamber. The lad, realizing a grave error, cringes away, babbling his apologies.
Useless. Why can't he ever have competent assistance for a spell? Even his only daughter would be of more use than what passes for a researcher in this day and age.
Josephine had failed to return any of the requests he'd so kindly sent to her. Perhaps he should have expected it.
Rumor had it that she had even been briefly in Marze months ago -- for God-knows-what -- but did she even deign to pay him a visit? Of course not. Once, ran that bitter thought, she had treated him with proper respect.
That girl had become most unruly over the last half-decade or so. He knew of course that it was likely all /her/ influence.
Then so be it. Let his only daughter waste her days and her talents digging up the dusty ruin of the past. He now had other means for his legacy.
"Add to the phenomena notes, boy. The Orb's influence over the castle environment has continued to expand."
The young scholar dares to give him a puzzled look.
"The torchlight, fool. Or have you not noticed?"
The youth shakes his head, voicing pathetic denials. Useless. "Write it down, then, and cease gawking about like a calf. Put those eyes to proper use in the future."
The scholar nods. The magus wastes no further time and proceeds into the lab.
...That one is showing signs of the taint. That weakness of spirit could be little else. A potential liability, that. So what now, release him from service? Have the guards eliminate him? Or...
...That could be a fruitful course. Perhaps so.
For today, though, the experiments have already been determined.
Another time, he may see what might come of a weak spirit.
And perhaps after that, a stronger spirit.
He steps into the sanctum crafted within the lab and gazes upon the Anomalous Orb in all its hideous glory.
To think, at last, in his dotage the means to make his mark on history would present itself. What a joke.
Still. He will have immortality of a sort.
Like a small inverted sun, the sphere continues to glow.