Terminus: The Patron's Mark IV

[11:26] It stands stoic...
Statuesque, callous of the idle breeze, of the occasional bird that take to perching at its shoulders. Its pupiless gaze holds upon the horizon, peering upon nothing in particular that the commoner could pick out. Yet, the ancient's mind mulls onward as it always had. Over three decades of deathrest, and alas, it towered amongst it worshippers once more.

Though it does not speak, closed proximity to it earns the subtle nibbling at the mind. Rather, the sensation of passive ethereal resonance kneading beyond armor and flesh alike, demanding of magus warding to scathe off the listening of one's unguarded thoughts.

It was as though, it simply always was there. Even if, the square was vacant some time prior. There appeared to be some of the Acentitus Mundus clergy knelt in reverence by the titan's feet, reciting prayers amongst themselves as it idled.

Examining its gargantuan stature of nigh two dozen feet in height would revealinscriptions laden across both of his arms... Upon its left side, more familiar engravings to the modern day. That of a sorcerer's brand, scribed down to the corresponding palm, constantly illuminated with a soft-white. Though, it contrasted with the opposing right arm, glowing a subtle sapphire, yet pulling at the very circuitry of those whom strayed too close to it. The markings on it, were less familiar, unlike the sorcerer's variety -- Ancient, by design.

To loom too close, would reveal its properties to circumvent the physical entirely... Almost as though it dared to graze one's soul.
The bob of one of those respective fingers on such mana-hungry appendage tipped the ancient off to the arrival of a magus visitor. Its head rises somewhat, churning at the air akin to strained wood whining by the ears.

A bass rattled hum booms from its gullet, not facing the magi outright, but feeling the very atmosphere in which they passed through.
It remained as it did prior... Waiting, eyes still lying upon the nightscape's horizon.
(Terminus)

[11:30] Terminus's voice (to Vargis Redjaw):
*It is subtle, but the sensation tickles at the mind. It is not an active endeavor, but rather ambient with proximity to the large creature before you. In some capacity, it was akin to a mildly curious reader thumbing open a book to peruse its introductory pages. While it does not turn to you, you feel as though you're already being watched...*


[11:53] Vargis would enter Antefinem. Finally returning from his venture out. He was new to the isle. He was interested in becoming a citizen. There was much promise in this place for him. At least in his perception. Perhaps it was a place he could study the void more deeply. At least it was partially the reason he came.

As he approached the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. As if he'd felt something eerie. The young man recently turned eighteen would look towards the presence almost instinctively after climbing the steps to the square.

His eyes would land on a dark being facing the opposite direction. It hadn't said anything, but their presence was astounding. Maybe even commanding. As the entity peered into Vargis, it would find his soul marked. It was not gone, but marked to depart upon his death. He was a warlock, not of Helheim.. but of the Worldscape. A decision made in his pursuit of delving into the void. To prove that there was more to the void than what others may think. And also to gain it's power. Vargis had many mentors in his life. Loktar Mogrel, his sorcery mentor whom he still learned from.

Xavier, whom he learned how to harness the occult. Even Ager, who was his initial teacher in sorcery. And there were more. The being would see lots of combat training and even some serious fights. However they'd also see a young giant, freshly made a man. Relentless in chasing his goals. He had spent most of his childhood in Viritas. He was raised by his grandmother, left by his mother and father in her care as a baby.

Vargis was a complete tale, of many things. He even studied in various magics and made notes. He considered himself a sort of fledgling scholar or philosopher.


The young giant had read of Terminus in the keep's library. It only took a sight and remembering Erenthius's words to know that the being before him was None other than Terminus. He stopped in his tracks unsure how toproceed. He'd never really spoken with beings of importance before.

(Vargis Redjaw)

[12:08] The pulsations of wind may have somewhat garnered Terminus' attention, but it was moreso drawing the ire of the guardsmen that were swiftly making their approach towards Vargis.

Hands were batted forth to attempt cushioning against the passive aura, a wager of one's magical capacity in the wild... But in a domestic setting? A public disturbance.

''Oi! You there! Your magic is bloRelinquish your magic on public grounds!''
It would appear that the standard magus practice of wandering about unabated was illegal here on Antefinem. Likely the reasoning why it was not common practice to see more of the audacious variety of magi amongst their populace.

The voice in question? A guardsman posted nearby, with several others pressing onward to surround Vargis. Their batons were still at their sides, none of which unsheathed -yet-, but with any form of resistance to their demands? It would likely become an eventuality.

The titan in question, slowly shifted over. Each step thundrous against the cobblestone. The people here were used to their Patron's movements by now, providing reverent distance from where ever it'd tread. Its attention however, seemed to squarely fixate on the disturbance to its cradle, and the source of ire amongst its worshippers.

Within those solid crimson hues, reflected the image of Vargis. Though, before it could be further acknowledged, it seemed as though it was already taken down. The agitated populace carried out their typical matters, and Terminus' attention required locked upon the Giant, gazing with silent curiosity. Their emotions, their unguarded thoughts, both of which casually perused through without a lifted finger.

Alas, his lips parted to speak with a booming bass.
"I sense desire within you, magi. A hunger that draws you to my cradle.

Speak your name."
(Terminus)

[12:24] Vargis would be met by the isle's guardsmen. Perhaps he ventured to close to the entity in question. He looked around a bit confused, he usually had no issue with how he wandered around. Though he did remember that what he learned about Antefinem.

The had laws and order, paper documentation. Perhaps he was trespassing on one of those laws and forgot about it. The magi would relinquish the pulsing air that was invigorating himself with swift movements. He found his form to be a bit sluggish compared to when he wasn't in the form of his kin.

"I apologies, I didn't mean to cause a scene.." He said as his eyes remained on the entity. They were in charge of course. Soon his physical body began to shrivel in mass. And he'd be at his normal size and height. Returning to nine foot two inches tall.

It was here that he realized how much so bigger the dark Terminus was over everything. He was still four feet shorter in his normal form, but even more so now than ever. As the darkness turned in his direction he gulped. The looming steps that shook the cobblestone path was intimidating.

And the red gaze lacking pupils, it definitely was not the run of the mill entity. His gaze lowered slightly. Not wanting to be mistaken as attempting to challenge or stare. Words would sweep a breeze over him, causing his clothing and hair to dance in the wind.

"I am Vargis.. Vargis Redjaw.. I have come in hopes of learning and gaining greater strength." He said as he lowered his head into a bow. Lifting back up moments later.
(Vargis Redjaw)

[12:37] The entity continued its gaze with an unfeeling expression locked upon its visage. Likely not because it truly proved apathetic to the encounter, but rather that it lacked the anatomic capability to showcased facial expressions unlike its human counterparts.

"Vargis Redjaw."

They were formally acknowledged, with the rising of the entity's right arm, now illuminated with sapphire along its externally grafted mana leylines. The ignition of the ritualistic spell hummed at the ears, before providing a subtle tug at the giant's circuitry from its remote location, passively vying further than even that. Yet, it did not seem to be actively acting upon them.

Such markings, proved to be a loosely guarded secret of Antefinem -- A defining trait of Terminus:
The Patron's Brand

"Then, you come both for my expanse of knowledge..."
The glowing appendage is flexed before the ancient, fingers soon-after stretched with subtle popping from once-stiff joints, before the wrist is rolled for mobile testing throughout their own moment of self-adoration.
"--and my Mark..."

The Patron's Mark, not openly documented by those of nor passing through Antefinem. However, at least now -- it had been publicly referenced.
"Know that in receiving my boon unto one's vessel, that I shall have tribute."

Proper payment -- For a hungering ancient that fed off of mana. Likely the arrangement between an entity that once would've consumed indiscriminately, and an active magus and nonmagus population surrounding it.

Of course, there was little telling what exactly one was intent on requesting, on learning... Whether it was a matter that would not mind the ears of countless witnesses, or one that demanded strict knowledge control. So, while one openly awaited a reply? The mind was more actively sifting through one's thoughts for an answer. A means of deciphering the true nature of one's request -- Something openly thought, for none other than himself proved capable of telepathic potential upon the isle.
(Terminus)

[13:04] Vargis would listen as Terminus spoke his name. It was as if he were commanded to listen. He could feel the deep wells of power within it. It was an unspoken sensation. The warlock would would begin to hear the humming of power coming from Terminus. The being was of course over a century old based on what he found in the archives. It was likely those archives weren't meant for everyone, but he was Allowed by Erenthius.


A feeling deep within his gut would emerge. It was incredibly abrupt. And it felt as though he was descending somewhere. Yet he was standing in place. Or was he? The power caused by the glowing runic ley lines activated by a being exceeding his own comprehension would cause him to wobble a moment. And finally he'd drop to his knees a hand on his chest.

Breathes deepened as he gazed up at those red eyes now in a kneeling position as he was receiving his mark. His face gave off the impression of annoyance, but not in the way that one would think. He was in thought and in disgust with himself. As he faltered and dropped to his knees like a weak fool.

"I do wish to learn from your vast knowledge! and.." He could not say. It was against public perception. Astadora had Telepathy, and most powerful god like beings. as well. He bit down as he forced himself to stand under the might of receiving the entities mark.


["I'd like to learn of the void, to control it. To use it's power. Everyone thinks the void and celstial powers are different. As i've read.. The astral arcane sea is even conjoined at it's borders with the void. How can something everywhere not be for use as any other magic. I wish to explore and find the truth of it, even if the other end of my journey is not what I wish. Krause is said to have created the world.. well he came from somewhere.. I do not believe the current order is how it is supposed to be."] His thoughts bore his true intent. Never before shared with anyone. His studies had gone over years and he'd learn many things.

Though he'd only scratched the surface of his desires. To reveal that there was more within the void. That it could be harnessed and it was more important than anyone thought.
(Vargis Redjaw)

[13:33] There was a subtle crane of the head - an adverse reaction to the Patron's Brand? It was typical... Expected even. Terminus had hardly managed to get used to wandering the surface.

It wouldn't take long, before the mana that constantly festered at the Patron's Brand was reared up somewhat.
"Hmm? It would seem as though I have an effect on you. A sensitivity to the transmundanic art.

Perhaps, this is for the better..."
Or worse... Fate would tell.

One's suffering was not a matter that concerned the ancient... All that mattered to it, was that its ultimate goal was achieved. Whatever that was, was unknown beyond the prophecies spoken to the public, and the archives shoved away throughout the settlement.

Alas, the arm rises, presented wholesale towards Vargis. The spreading digits proved titanic casting an ethereal presence that'd weigh uponthe shoulders, that'd demand one succumb to their knees had they failed to prior.

Assuming there was no resistance? The world would feel as though it was being manipulated directly -- the properties of existence acted upon via metaphysical forces. The nature of gravity, canted, to draw a sliding before Terminus' feet, looming closer to the open and inviting palm of the Patron's Brand.

In the past, pacts would be established...
Rituals elaborated entertained, the occasional branding with titles such as 'Famulus', 'Insignis', and so on...

None of such were required any longer -- For one's developments were completed long ago.

"I shall have my tribute now then..."
It was as through they were bleeding through the skin, yet no blood was drawn. It was a soft blue that shined upon the surface, before drifting off for the open palm. All the while, the sapphire tendrils conjured from Vargis' image connected and further pried toward Terminus' extended appendage.

"And unto your heart, shall you wear my brand. Where no eyes shall casually wander, but the soul forever knows...

Until The End..."
Some of the mana collected from one's siphon was building up upon the surface one's digits, where eventually, their body would simply lay upon. All of which, presuming they did not deny or outright reject the prospect upon the initial offering. The most immediate means of breaking the conjoinment of casted spells, would be to simply step backward, away from the immediate proximity of the Patron.

As for the thoughts that surrounded their true intentions? There were no words on it for now. Rather, patience being executed -- for the setting simply was not right. Such, as well as prioritization -- To feed, in exchange for the immediate request for power proved prominent. A matter that would better prove his capability, and by extension? Satisfy him for the foreseeable future.
(Terminus)

[14:02] Vargis would feel the power having recently stood back to his feet to declare his intent. He found himself forced back to the knee as he was fulfilling his end. The tribute of course. He would not resist as he understood. This was not a peer to peer pact.

It was funny how sorcery had failed him, the freedom promised but never attained. He pave his own path. Even if he had to have a lord.. a god.. to achieve his goals. His head lowered as he accepted Terminus. The inner turmoil in his thoughts giving way to a new path. A path that treaded the path to the end.

He'd inhales his eyes closing as the mana was taken, Siphoned, a mark placed. It was different from before. He aligned with Terminus and Antefinem. Was he twice as cursed or twice as blessed? He'd only learn on his deathbed.

As long as he lived he cared not as it meant he still has time. He found he opened his eyes as something felt more within. More full, more potent. Was the tribute not just for Usque Terminus? Was he blessed with power already at the beginning of their pact?
(Vargis Redjaw)

[14:26]
{Character Loaded, IC Year: 2181}
[14:38] As mana trickled from the magi, and into Terminus -- An odd sensation took to the ancient. The result of thousands of tributes up until now, finally meeting equilibrium... Vargis had achieved something many before him had not...
A subtle sigh escaped Terminus' maws, one that showcased... Relief?

The hunger, for the first time in nigh two centuries had been satiated. Vanquished. Gone...

--and in response to such? The sharp stinging sensation that'd pierce into one's chest followed. The reward for providing the Patron with a tribute that'd tip the scales in a different direction. In such closer proximity, one could feel the true effects of the Patron's brand... One that extended its touch beyond the physical, through the mana, and... Upon the very divine barrier to the Soul.

Direct contact with the titan's hand, invoked a realization that was spoken for the ears of all nigh...

"I... Can feel your soul... In the palm of my hand..."
A feat that was never intended for the mortals upon Eternia wholesale. It was beyond the Occult... Which would likely had explained the vestiges of Raw Death clinging to its image.

The mind could explore the properties of the soul... To understand that it was a former, and future denizen of the lifestream. To be cleansed by stars, and find refuge in the afterlife, if not eventually resettle within the very mortals that surround them day-by-day after however long it'd take. It was not of mana, but it was the indisputable origination of it... Which also meant its very essence was transmutable.

The very soul could be paid to the Astral Sea, in exchange for a boon of glorious proportions. Thus, as the ancient's mind rolled onward, it couldn't help but fathom... Was such the ultimate vision that Sorcerers commonly nibbled at the vestiges of? An art that enabled the powers over divine principalities of reality, yet stripped of its most effective asset? The souls of others nigh? Nay, it simply was a -part- of a much more ancient art... All of which picked up in pieces to fulfill the most immediate desires of mortal kind.

Terminus was greater than this... Such felt clear to him. He could decipher what truly was from it all, to become what Fate always plotted him out to become.
A Constant, all of His own...

"The potential... The possibilities... The endless capabilities contained within encapsulated infinitum. It draws to me..."
One's palm clutched somewhat, and the sensation of being grappled transcended the flesh, for the soul beyond... In reality, the endeavor was to solidify the incantation of a telekinetic scribing. One that skipped the surface of one's flesh and attire, for the cardiac tissue of the heart directly. It was the cause of the sharp pains...

Lines penned in, with mana as one's ink, forming runic letters, circles and leylines to ultimately activate a spell for a mana nexus. One that harbored control over the Heart Circuit -- Responsible for Symbolic Casting: The supposed connection to the Soul itself. While the raw amount of mana was spilled from one's body, the markings sought to draw something through the pain. An intensity previously unknown to the body, born from the Soul...

Brief moments, may've felt like minutes... But the impact would change years worth of predetermined destiny. It was a surging rush... A tingling beneath the skin. A shimmering of the circuits, desperately trying not to tear its own vessel apart. Power brimmed incessantly beneath the surface, as though tempting the magi to cast forth a release, if only to demostrate their own power to themselves.

"--and now, a part of that potential... Is imparted upon you... Learn it well."
(Terminus)

[14:39] The hand is withdrawn, and one was left to compose themselves at their own accord. By now, the civilian populace had made much space between the Patron and the Giant in which a ritualistic endowment was cast upon. Gasps were held across the public, as the masses, for the first time, were able to behold their Patron bestowing their blessing upon a magi in a capacity never before seen by the uninitiated of the Acentitus Mundus clergy.

For once, the Patron's Brand relinquished it glow, no longer hungering... While it could still feed, it would prove no longer out of necessity, but of desire. The uncomfortable tug upon one's circuitry and soul alike, had ceased at-last. Though, the portion it took? Forever lost...

Now, it was a question concerning knowledge...
Something, that the public would not be offered the privilege of growing privvy to. The image of the gargantuan entity started to ebb away with the passing breeze, deconstructed via a transmogrification spell that physically pried his image apart and spread it over a vast area - Intangible, incorporeal -- Yet, present still, ascending to the skies above as a translucent smog that encompass the top of the Antefinemite Spire.

It was the location of His Shrine... One, guarded and secured from random arrivals - A more private place to commune for the time being.
(Terminus)