Primal Forces: Old is the Word

March 2nd, 2015: Fenris and an old ally meet and discuss the future of their secret order.

North Africa

Western Sahara



  • Maltis (emits by Master Darque)

Mood Music:

Maltis, the name is new to him, strange sounding but in this world, in this universe it feels the most appropriate of all of his various incarnations. The dark-skinned man stands before a crater that lies smoldering with eldritch energy, recently cast magics - his own. His hand was forced and he had to use his own mystical powers to banish a creature that has no name written in any format. One of the sleeping Old Ones minions dreamed to reality to borrow in and fester, to grow, no longer.

Without turning around the man speaks a presence felt he had not sensed in a very long time, "Welcome old friend."

Where are they? North Africa in Western Sahara actually and around five o clock in the morning with the sun has been just risen with in the past twenty minutes.

"Hello my friend." Fenris says. His appearance is subtly different than the last time they met, but it's never so different he can't be identified. Even more the feel of him. The sense of a predator. The Old Wolf can't entirely hide it and doesn't try around Maltis. "I see you beat me to this one. My thanks. They've slowed down since the return of the Watcher, but there are still far, far too many."

"Yes and the families of the Magi are scattered, dissociated and swept up in this worlds… confusions." A cant of his head that includes a shrug and Maltis turns around now to face Fenris, ever different the Old Wolf is, unlike Brother Mist who rarely changes unless the dire happens, like apparent death. Bald and dressed in little more than kahki's and a green button up shirt he looks un-impressive but that isn't at all the case.

"I assume as always you are doing things in your own fashion, mentoring here and there, aiding where you feel you are needed most but you're slowing, this one was strong and aged. You didn't smell it and destroy it before I became aware of it that says to me… you need help."

"The world is entering another awakening age." Fenris says by way of oblique agreement. "The tides of magic rise and with them chaos. Today a machine made monster rampaged through a city, stopped only by the brave and the reckless. Which is a good thing. Had I intervened there would not be a city left." He looks down to where the monster had been.

"I am but one being. And there are many places that need… a watchful eye or an avenging blade. Things are slipping by that would not have were the old conclave still in place."

"Old is the word." Maltis says quietly, his last experience was a harrowing one and in this newest 'self' he isn't exactly feeling capable. He won't admit it but battling this Old One spawn took too much out of him, "You're the only one of the conclave still capable of fighting in such a fashion…" A hand rises up and there are two pendulums with singular gems embedded in to each. Engraved writing covers them, arcane sigils. Tipping his head down the dark skinned man pulls off a third from around his neck and extends the bundle towards Fenris, "I think it has been long enough you've battled alone."

"A Ley Pendulum…" Fenris breathes. He's seen them before of course. Ah, make that three. The god-wolf reaches out to accept them. "Three of these will hardly be enough, you realize." Though three is a start. If he can find bearers for them that is. Magic is… finicky about like that and it won't do anyway to just give them to someone who won't use them.

Then again, it won't do to just have them laying around either. "I've not seen these in an age."

"Yes, the Ley Pendulums as you recall." Maltis smiles a little, "Three is just the beginning. You and I will craft the rest but that is what we will start with, yourself and three." A wave of his hand over the pendulums and they shift in appearance, a gemstone each in various colors attached to a coin the coins for now blank. "A more modernized look… we're to attract new blood right?" A joke of sorts but still there.

"You know how this all works, the pendulums will choose their suitors." Maltis shoves a hand in to his pocket and the sound of keys jangling can be heard, "Four is a good beginning, a foundation number after all."

Fenris smirks a bit. New blood. They Order of the Leymen, which is what they had been the last time he'd seen them, had gone through quite a bit of New Blood. Such is the perils of living in interesting times. "I may know a few to start with. And there may be others… laying dormant." He carefully puts the pendulums in his coat pocket. Almost reverently. He remembers the last wielders of these things. Good men and women, all. "We shall have to give the matter some thought. Been some time since I made anything like this." He pauses musing. "I'll need my forge. Which is doable. So… it's come to this. We shall gather up the champions of the world's magic itself and send them into battle?"

"The snake continues to eat it's tail right? A lot of blood… I have no doubts there will be much more but perhaps under your leadership and not my own it will be much less… perhaps." A sly look is given, Maltis after all knows of the Mythical Beasts true nature.
A chuckle and the Mage motions over a small rise, "Come, my camp is not a far drive and we can catch up a little before things get serious again. I have some good tea and fresh eggs. I cannot stress to you how relieved I am you are still of a same mind and not… well… you know." A shrug and the keys are revealed.

"You would have heard, had my mind changed." Fenris carries within him the legend and potential of the Destroyer. And on occasion he's had to use that. But he still prefers to be himself and not a monster. Which is a good thing for all concerned. "I should like to catch up." He says, beginning to walk. "What are you calling yourself these days?"

"Just Maltis… it's easier. I'll tell you the story when we get something in our bellies."

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