9/28 Riftier is a Word Now

 Inanis says, "Garrick, The Vampire lady was looking for ya."
 Despair says, "Garrick."
 Inanis says, "I keep going around looking for people to fight but get no results."
 Despair says, "Unfortunate."
 Garrick says, "Oh sorry, ears were clogged by whispers of ambient violence."
 Garrick says, "Octavia was looking then? Makes sense."
 Despair asks, "Garrick. Do ya require a stall?"
 Inanis says, "So I've just taken to stealing all the resources in their forest. Since they're to scared to grab em."
 Despair says, "All the mor' power to us."
 Inanis says, "Mhm."
 Garrick says, "If you've got a spare one, could certainly use a place to pawn my works for modest fees."
 Despair says, "This one."
 Garrick says, "My thanks Lord Ultovex."
 Despair says, "Also when ya got the time,"
 Despair says, "I need ma staff polished. Wit' the turn o' the year, the staff is lookin'"
 Despair says, "unmaintained."
 Garrick says, "Pffffft."
 Garrick says, "I have the time. "
 Garrick says, "Present it when ready. Here's hoping it doesn't bite."
 Despair says, "Come wit' ma."
 Garrick would raise an eyebrow as he glanced over the masterful arcanium staff, the oscuri's rotted hand, and most importantly the whispering eye itself. It was a fascinating construct, a worthy artifice that fit that of a dark lord with certainty. Clasping it within his palms with a nod to Despair, the drake would get immediately to work as his palms ignited with the molten heat of magma to begin steadily heat treating the catalyst, ensuring each and every layer of circuitry that aided in the passage of dread magic was brought up to a pristine state of conducive potency.

After that brief process, a swift polishing job with a glob of oil and the seams of his navy cotton engineer's coat would finish the process, the whispering eye glimmering as if it was brand new and not an ancient weapon of practical murder.

"Helluva weapon. Must'a been a real good smith."
(Garrick)
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 The Arcanium staff would be slowly extended to the Drake who would maintain it. The Ultovexian seemed almost reluctant to fully let it go, his hand always lingering around his artifact as it was clutched by the drake. The molten heat began to carefully treat it and each layer of circuits would help in the spread of it's dread filled power.

UNLIMITED (3) POWER (Force) began to flow from the weapon. And as the eye was polished the Ultovexian would once more take the ancient weapon of the Void.

Well, at least 50 years ancient.

"It did. She did her job well."
(Despair)
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 Garrick says, "I'd reckon so. Takes a helluva artifice to be used in decades worth of determined violence and not dull."
 Garrick says, "Well, not by much."
 Despair says, "It does. The Eye has mor' then proven itself a dozen tiems ov'r."
 Garrick says, "Hmm..."
 Garrick says, "Usually I'd say there's always something to be improved upon with any weapon."
 Garrick says, "But even trailing my claws over that, I don't think there's anything that could make it more powerful bar a spire shard."
 Garrick says, "And even then..."
 Garrick says, "Damn."
 Garrick says, "Not every day you touch an actual death stick."
 Garrick asks, "So who did smith that thing? Some elder lich monstrosity?"
 Despair says, "I don't think a spire shard would improve it all tha' much. Giv' it a lil boost maybe, but it would give it no other effects. A weapon is a weapon. A tool."
 Despair says, "It was an Ookami smith from ma first youth. Madelyn."
 Garrick says, "Huh....more ya know. And I suppose you're right, little point in making it just an extra battery unless there's a genuine application for it."
 Garrick says, "Like....making it riftier or something."
 Garrick says, "Riftier is a word now."
 Despair says, "It's already pretty rifty due ta ma mastery ov'r the art."
 Despair says, "But could b riftier I 'spose."
 Garrick says, "Probably not worth the investment, plenty of more useful applications for a spire shard than a battery."
 Garrick says, "Though imagine shoving one of those fancy clusters on a weapon...mmm, now that'd be real rifty."
 Despair says, "Tha'd b a real strong treat, ya."
 Garrick says, "Hmm."
 Garrick says, "On the topic of riftmancy, theoretical question."
 Garrick asks, "So you drag nethradin from helheim through rifts, right?"
 Garrick says, "Or at least that's my gauge."
 Despair says, "I do."
 Garrick asks, "So one can, in theory, open a rift directly to the spirit realm. It'd take a lot of effort to make something like that be more than temporary, right?"
 Despair says, "Yes."
 Despair says, "I've done tha' plenty o' times."
 Despair says, "Ya can rift anywhere ya hav' been before. Spirit realm is a lil harder but"
 Despair says, "I've been there before."
 Garrick says, "So for an aspirant riftmancer to visit, they'd simply require someone who has been there before to take them. Then they've got the experience."
 Garrick says, "I suppose these are all cursory questions to my genuine inquiry."
 Despair says, "Not quite. There are differnt ways o' entry. But already bein' there is the eaisest."
 Garrick says, "I figure being there once helps you not just make it a shot in the dark."
 Garrick says, "A roll of the dice, as it were."
 Despair says, "Close 'nough way ta describe it, ya."
 Despair says, "Openin' a rift without knowin' the location"
 Despair says, "ain't smart."
 Garrick asks, "Right, the real question. You think it'd be possible with enough raw power and resources to open a permanent scar to Ifraheim that releases its flames upon that beneath it?"
 Garrick says, "I've visions of this island engulfed in fire, and that just seems the most straight forward method."
 Despair says, "With a shard, yes."
 Despair says, "There was once a rift gate which achieved a similar effect."
 Garrick asks, "I assume that one was to helheim?"
 Despair says, "It was 'ventually sealed by a group"
 Despair says, "but if it is not sealed, such scars will last forever."
 Despair says, "I believe Helheim, ya."
 Garrick says, "So a flame that cannot be put out....no matter how hard they try to extinguish it."
 Garrick says, "I mean it'd take some expeditions into the heart of Ifraheim, probably a fruitful endeavor for general violence and treasure anywho."
Garrick says, "But that....that is a path then."
 Despair says, "A lastin' flame. One ya'd hav' ta defend but very fruitful if ya managed it, ya."

 Garrick would mull over the thought as the confirmation rang within his mind, crossing his emerald, cracked scaled arms over the layered black plate of his cuirass as he leaned back agains the nearby pile of boxes in the tower of chaos. Despair's words seemed to only fuel the fiery glint that ignited within the drake's molten amber motes, a sharp toothed smile steadily spreading as the drake idly thumbed his claw over the black pearl of his cursed amulet.

The visions of flame crossed over his eyes once more, yet it was like a warm blanket upon a chilly night to the rift aspirant.

"Largely theory of course, I'm certainly no riftmancer yet...but if one happened to.....very much dislike a city....resent it quite thoroughly even....you could in theory open a scar to Ifraheim over it to engulf it with flame once it had been conquered by fire and sword. In theory, of course."

The drake would hum to himself, puffing lightly at a ragged cigarette as he mulled over the thought.

"Plenty of probably violent things to dominate in the realm of eternal flame too, I'd reckon. The sort that could spill out and bring all sorts of pleasant chaos if...motivated. How much of the spirit realm have you explored Lord Ultovex?"
(Garrick)
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 The Ultovexian would look to be in his own series of thoughts. The rift gate had been something lost to time, and Aurora believed that it's creator was either gone or would be shortly. He closed his eyes.

"If one disliked a city, then ya. Ya could open a scar onnit after ya've taken it ov'r. Tha's wha' happened to Baukengard, 'xpect fer a different spiritual world then ya thinkin' o."

"It'd b something I'd find entertainin' ta see. An eternal flame pourin' over a fort I hate, chaos destroyin' an' burning it. That is a fire I wish to see grace ma vision."

The Dusk and Aurum looked towards Garrick.

"The part tha' reflects our world an' the part fer Helheim. An' the Void's net, if tha's counted as the spirit realm."
(Despair)
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 Juniper Elisheva says, "-"
 Garrick says, "...What a strange place for a small child to visit."
 Juniper Elisheva says, "..... W-... I....."
 Juniper Elisheva asks, "Guerra?"
 Garrick would raise an eyebrow at the arrival of the small child, humming to himself as he blew an idle series of smoky rings up towards the rafters of the tower before pausing his response to Despair's response. It appeared that conversation would have to continue in a short while.

"Guerra...isn't that one of the two lads bunking up here Lord Ultovex? The...browner one I think? Or less green."
(Garrick)
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 She stared forward, with inhumanly large bright pink eyes.

"Just...….. Looking for him...…" She mumbled out. "S-Sorry if I um -..... Interrupted...."
(Juniper Elisheva)
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Garrick says, "Hmm...he might be drinking his juice. Or idling about in the tavern."
Juniper Elisheva says, "I already checked there....."
Juniper Elisheva exclaims, "I caaaaaan leave!"
Despair says, "Another small child."
Despair says, "No."
Despair says, "Wait,"
Despair says, "I know this one."
Garrick says, "This one I do not recognize."
Despair says, "It's the one tha' Aurora was talkin' ta."
Juniper Elisheva says, "......."
Juniper Elisheva says, "Um...... "
Juniper Elisheva says, "Y-Yes I know her..."
Despair says, "The one she told not ta come to the mountain if somethang somethang. Disagree wit' the views maybe? Wasn't listenin' too deep."
Juniper Elisheva exclaims, "L-Like I said I can leave!"
Despair says, "Why are ya important to her, child."
The Dryad stared, as he came closer. She was quiet for a long while, her mouth open and slack - but...

"I'm...… She's my -.... Auntie...." She said quietly, here voice barely squeaking out.
(Juniper Elisheva)
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 Despair says, "An' ya name."
 Juniper Elisheva says, "J-Junip-"

She shook her head.

"Juniper Thera Elisheva," She said. Emphasis on her middle name - as she always did. It was a habit, possibly a bad one in front of this man.
(Juniper Elisheva)
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 Despair asks, "Thera Elisheva. Wha' is ya relation wit' tha' woman?"
 Juniper Elisheva says, "S-Sh....She....."
 Juniper Elisheva says, "She's....."
 Juniper Elisheva says, "My grandma......"
 Despair asks, "An' do ya know who I am in relation to her?"
 She shook her head swiftly.
(Juniper Elisheva)
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 Despair smirked. "I am the man who stepped on ya Grandma, an' drove her to insanity."
(Despair)
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 Juniper Elisheva says, "....."
 Juniper Elisheva asks, "W-What?"
 Juniper Elisheva asks, "Insanity?"
 Despair says, "Well,"
 Garrick would take a cozy seat at the table to allow Despair his heartwarming chat with the young girl, idly studying over his notes on rift theory in the meantime.
(Garrick)
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 Despair says, "Despair but"
 Despair says, "Close 'nough."
 A brief flash of anger was in her eyes and then it faded. Her hands clenched tightly, squeezing her eyes shut.
(Juniper Elisheva)
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 She had been using her own little way to keep her stress down, her anger down - but that man floating there, interrupting her messed it all up. In a flash, her sword was unsheathed and she aimed to swipe at the Ultovex swiftly with a short cry of anger unleashing from her.
(Juniper Elisheva)
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[02:06] The sword was unsheathed and the child would attempt to strike at the Ultovexian. In moments the rattling of chains would fill the air. The staff on his back was not drawn, and the occultism that he wielded with mastery was not called to appear around him. Dusk and Aurum would stare towards the small child.

"Hate an' act on hatred. It is foolish to ignore the tuggin' on one's heart. Embrace tha' want to hurt, embrace tha' emotion ya feel."

"Ya Grandmother did the same when I beat her a child. An' when we fought again, I drove her to Despair as an adult, I overloaded her wit' pain."
(Despair)
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She remembered her father's words clearly, the words that she absolutely recited once more in that small meeting of child friends.

Be unwavering.

To stand up against that which was wrong, the things which she believed in. Even as those chains sounded off within the bottom of the tower, the Dryad still charged forth. Her initial strike was missed, but she followed it up immediately after.

"You're wrong! You're wrong! You're wrong!"

She shouted. What was the hope of her winning this? Slim to none. More so closer to none, really. Ray had told her to not do anything stupid, and she hadn't intended for this to happen but...
(Juniper Elisheva)
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 Be unwavering. To other obstacles in life, such words might have been well used. But unfortunately, even with no occultic aura, and no staff, the Dryad would find herself hard pressed to escape the Ultovexian's assault. She threw the first attack, but Sors?

Sors was one to finish it. Spores filled the room, making it hard to breath as the invisible chains would rend the tree from the ground and throw the mandrakes into the walls, making crators. Occultic needles were sent forwards, stabbing into Juniper's skin, drawing blood and sending her sprawling to the ground. But as she was knocked off her feet, only then did the fun begin.

"I am correct. The world is full o' sufferin'. An' I am a plague tha' spreads it to mor'. A byproduct o' Levengard. When there is something tha' tries ta b good, it only creates greater evil."

The Ultovexian would reach downwards. His clawed hand would touch the top of the Dryad's head, occultism instantly diving into her mana circuits. They would assault her from the inside out, drawing her body to extreme physical pain to make the next step easier. And that next step..

"Know pain."

A single memory. That of the Ultovexian's claw on the face of another. The occultism throbbing through the younger Thera Elisheva's mana circuits, forcing her to experience the pains that Sors had. Juniper would not come to know what that woman saw that day. But she would see the proof. The memory of the occultism getting to Thera, of her being driven to suffering. Pain invading every fiber of Thera's body.

Then her being tossed to the ground. Thera's body had been left in wretched condition, the intent obviously to lead her for dead. While the physical pain would not be inflicted onto Juniper's body, she would be met twofold with another sort of pain. The memory of Thera losing combined with her reliving the pain the woman went through any time she attempted to fight in the near future.

"I crushed Thera Elisheva. An' soon after our last fight? She gave up. Like mos' Elisheva's I fight. Caleal hides away after I fought him too."

"This is not your world."
(Despair)
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 Inanis walked into an actual storm of occultism and plants being thrown around but after a while hearing the sounds of those oh so familiar chains rattling in his head he could take a guess at what was going on here. How many 'Do-Gooders' Would come up here in hopes of setting those two free? Aiming to defeat Sors in his own territory no less? Inanis could only shake his head moving over towards the counter ignoring the battle almost entirely setting a barrier of strong winds around himself while he poured himself a glass of Oxblood wine.

Making his way towards the table he'd dodge a couple vines that were smacking against the walls dodging what appeared to be a mandrake heading towards his head right before it made impact Inanis would crush it throw it in the opposite direction with wind magic. Sitting back down and taking a few sips of his wine he'd merely watch as his Binder held the girl in place tormenting her with some variation of occultism.

crimson eyes flickered towards the boys who happened to walk in just in the nick of time, Yet the oppressive feeling in the room was quite clearly not something they would want to involve themselves in knowing fully well what the consequences were last time.

Or perhaps they were? It would be a great time to see how much of the lessons they've learned since being up here Inanis thought to himself taking another sip of the wine. A sigh escaped their lips before Inanis exposed an oppression of his own, Animosity towards the boys that would be very clearly a threat in any sense of the words. 'If you interfere you'll be next.; More so implied by the violent look in his eyes than spoken into words. An immense pressure that built up to the point that the empty glass of wine shattered in his hand. The remnants of blood wine and glass fragments spilled onto the carpet and into Inanis hands.


(Inanis)
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 "Wait!"

The gravity of the scene struck him. It was enough make his blood boil, but he knew it was impossible. A fight like this? Against Sors? No. He was incapable of that. On top of that, one of his Nethradin was sitting not that far away from him.

He had entered, hoping to find Sors, Malentine, or even Blaire with Garrick. He had indeed found one of those, along with Juniper. His face goes red and he raises his voice, "Lord Ultovex, wait!" It was unbecoming of someone to tell Sors Ultovex to wait,

but he did so anyways.

He's short of breath, not from physical labor, but from mental labor. His mind raced. If he had caught the attention of Sors before he cast Juniper down into whatever deranged layer of Hel he controlled, he'd continue speaking, "Don't- Please! She's here because of Aurora.. I asked her to send for June, and she promised me she would."

He did not take physical action, but he would certainly plead, "She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time- If you need equivalent exchange.."

He gestures to himself weakly in a panic, "M..Me? Take me?"
(Guerra Totec)
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 She was up against a wall and she knew. She knew that when she fought the Vampire, too - but... She still tried. The spores clouded the air, and those mandrakes, while valiant, were still tossed aside as if they were absolutely nothing.

Those needles hurt beyond anything else, however and soon enough, she was laying there on the stone floor, panting. Bleeding. Struggling. As that clawed hand reached down towards her head, the occultism burned into her, and she writhed upon the floor, kicking her feet and legitimately screaming in pain. Fighting against a Vampire was one thing but this...?

She couldn't fight against this.

But that just wasn't all, either. As that memory of him doing the same thing to her grandmother filtered into her mind, the Dryad grows silent, entranced by the memory. But all too soon that stillness and silence was replaced by spasms of pain, but it was more mental than physical.

Vaguely, she hears a voice, pleading, but she's far, far too lost in that memory and that pain to truly register it. She lay still on the ground, panting and occasionally trembling, eyes wide. This was a woman who she had been told was the most prominent Spiritmancer in recent memory... Is this how that started?

She tried to be unwavering, and the carpet was deftly pulled out from under her.
(Juniper Elisheva)
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[02:56] Despair was not just pain and suffering. Despair was to drive people to give up. Despair was to drive people to the edge and make them jump.

The carpet, the rug, everything that Juniper had to stand on, he would rip away from her. The memory moved deeper. The reflection of pain between her, the young Thera, and the old one. Every battle ended the same way. The Ultovexian stood above, sometimes just barely, destroying the ideal.

But his false sin began to go even deeper, and fabricate. It could not force someone to feel a feeling. But it could make her experience falsehoods. Another thought would be implanted on Juniper's mind, that of the Ultovexian floating above piles of corpses. To him, the faces were blank, but to Juniper, it would be everyone she knew and loved.

A warning.

The claw remained firmly attached to her face as the Ultovexian would look up towards Guerra.

"She is a child. One who struck towards ma, an' believed ma ta bincorrect. Ya are not the one who struck at ma. Ya are not the one who needs ta b re-educated. Ya, she was lookin' fer ya."

"But she should not believe even a child is free ta do as they want against ma. It was not jus' bein' in the wrong place. It was her action."

And then? The Ultovexian would lift Juniper up and slam her head into the ground. A final blow to separate the claw from her head.

"I think she's learned. O' do ya want ma to step on ya too, Juniper? Jus' like ya grandmother."
(Despair)
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 A grimacing visage watches on in horror.

He couldn't strike Ultovex. The best he could do in a fight versus him was predict about four attacks and dodge them. And then just get hit by several more. Even pleading failed when it came to something like this. His fingers curl inward, a fist is made, and it takes about all of the willpower he had not to throw just about every future plan he had with Ramses, or even independent of his friend away.

The desire he had to smack Sors, even a single time in the mouth was great.

But his desire to live was greater. For now.

As her face is slammed into the carpet to 'remove' the claw's hold, he approaches. His aim is immediately to assess her current condition, which was more than likely obvious given what he had witnessed, even if it only were the tail end of things.

"It wont happen again-"

He answers, though it's not quite what Juniper would've said, he was sure. Probably something hotheaded, something that'd get her more injured due to hubris.

"I'll make sure." His voice trails off, and provided he was allowed by the Ultovexian Nightmare, vacate the premises with Juniper.

"I can take her out of your sight-- I-if you're finished." It was presumptuous to assume he was already done of course. But it didn't hurt to ask. The real blow to the remainder of his dwindled pride was the tone he had to use when treading lightly around Sors and Co.
(Guerra Totec)
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 She had entered too late to see all that happened, but it wasn't as if she cared. She knew who's child she stared at. Ilui Elisheva's. The one who in the end alongside the other leaders of Levengard, ensured her father would be blacklined against his will.

Watching her being slammed to the ground by her heard made the crazy grin on her face widen slightly.

She enjoyed watching Ilui's child harmed so.

She didn't speak, she didn't need to. Instead she leans back against the wall, just smiling.
(Lirry Zanders)
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 The teenager was silent for some time, a shudder going up her spine when she was given that image of him floating above the piles of corpses. She wasn't able to respond - and if she could? It would have just ended terribly for her, sadly. Instead she was stuck on that pain that he had forced upon her.

It wasn't until she was lifted up and then her had was slammed back down onto the ground did she seem to stir, but it was a false hope. She was out like a complete light with that strike against her skull. Thankfully it wasn't strong enough to crack her skull.

Now, Juniper laid there. Bruised, bloody, battered. It was plain as day she had certainly gotten into her own fair share of fights that day, as some of the injuries weren't even from the Ultovex at all. Burn marks, and even bite marks littered her form. Her face was contorted into one of pain, but otherwise, she did not move.
(Juniper Elisheva)
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 "It shouldn't. If it does,"

"I will put her down again an' again, an' again." The Ultovexian would quip. The oppressive feeling would fill the air as the Ultovexian stared towards both the downed Juniper and Guerra. No more actions were taken against him, so he would begin to float forwards, nodding ever slowly.

"Remove her from my sight." An overly authoritive voice as he moved to the side, a whisper being said to Lirien as he would watch Guerra pull Juniper away.
(Despair)
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 Inanis says, "Well I guess some time has past, I suppose I'll go take another walk around Agartha and go see who I can find."

Garrick says, "What a jolly time."
 Despair says, "Ya."

Despair takes a seat.
(Despair)
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 Garrick says, "Hmm, where was I..."
 Lirry plops with a flourish into one of the others.
(Lirry Zanders)
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 Despair asks, "Lirien. Would ya say the mountain is cold?"
 Lirry Zanders says, "A bit compared to the rest of Agartha yes."
 Despair says, "Good."
 Despair says, "Ma lap is cold. Come warm it."
 Lirry Zanders says, "--"
 Lirry slowly stands before lightly sitting on one side of his lap, was she just this bad at this?
(Lirry Zanders)
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 Despair says, "You're playing king later."

 Garrick would take a long, pensive drag from his ragged cigarette as he mulled over the previous discussion, the topic of the spirit realm and adequate abuse of it with the perks of riftmancy. The rules of caution were also made quite clear, particularly not rifting like a man and rolling the dice.

"It'd take a proper conquest naturally if it was to hit a whole city, but the dream is a beautiful one indeed. A long term goal as it were, helps motivate the learning process. If a jagged scar directly into the seas of flame that inhabit Ifraheim was spread above, why, that would be a city that even if stone, would never cease to be engulfed by fire. It is a start to making the whole island ash, but a man cannot be picky."
(Garrick)
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 Lirry Zanders says, "...My parents played that a lot.."

 The Ultovexian would lean back in his seat, getting comfortable in it as Dusk and Aurum would look glance towards Garrick.

"Man shouldn't b at least. There is mor' then one way to reach a solution, but I real like wha' ya describing. Leavin' behind a jagged scar, a sea o' flames tha' spread an' spread an' melt through cities."

"It is an ideal."
(Despair)
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 Garrick would nod lightly as he leaned his black blade over his knees, a distant, mundane creation of the Gehennan smith Keaka from yesteryear he'd be gifted during his youth in Cruxiati. Removing a filthy, oily rag, he'd lean it upon the table with a heavy clank before beginning the steady process of polishing it to a black, mirror sheen.

"Out of curiosity, and because it's a fine start to any good tutelage Lord Ultovex, what exactly drove you to master riftmancy as you have? How'd you end up pursuing it?"
(Garrick)
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 "Spite."

The Ultovexian would say neatly, cackling at the sheer idea of it.

"I'd like ta say it was fer the utility. It's been real useful ta ma ov'r the years. But originally, wha' made ma pick up riftomancy was spite. There was a girl I liked.."

"She cheated on ma. She was real inta learning rift. So I decided tha' I would learn rift faster then her, an' better then her. I would make her regret wha' she did."

"So I did."

(Despair)
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 She was legitimately unsure of what to do at this point, in that half-sitting on his lap position so she remains there.. it worked for her too.

Though obviously she would be listening to what was being said, his story for learning rift somewhat similar to her own even if different in some sense.

Her own spite being born of the fact she simply wanted to learn everything they despised, to become just that... All so they would come for her in the end.

"Huh.. That's.. definitely a good reason I guess.. how did she react to it?"
(Lirry Zanders)
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 "Spite is a powerful motivator. I'm very familiar with the concept of using it as a drive, but to hear that a veritable bogeyman learned it to spite his ex-girlfriend is oddly motivating. I respect it."

Garrick would take a long, thoughtful drag from his ragged cigarette as he mulled over the thought, listening to Lirry's response as he idly clacked his jagged rows of teeth together with an idle hum. So he'd started young then, presumably in the same city he'd ruled in Garrick's brief youth within the city.

"So what was your first step to learning it then? Did you have some kind of teacher, or did you want day just say "man, I really hate the lifestream.""
(Garrick)
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 The question asked drew a ponderance.

"While, ain't real sur'. Think she mite hav' been mad. But she also mite hav' been mad at her new boyfriend havin' his eye ripped out by ma, becomin' a wanted criminal o' Dusk, an' ma rippin' her arm off an' keepin' it. So there's a couple o' thangs she mite hav' been ticked at, not jus' the riftomancy."

He shrugged ever slightly.

"Spite an' malice are very powerful tools ta b used. An' even now I use it. It gets ya far. Tap inta hatred an' ya go a long way."

"Ma first step ta learnin' it was watchin' her lesson. Then I replicated it. They had this one lil toy. I'll bring ya one o' it. Drains ya mana but glows as ya fill it. It's like a testin' weight."
(Despair)
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 Garrick would nod steadily to Lord Ultovex as he took a mental note of the effectiveness between the two. He possessed nothing but distaste for his divine father Ryujin, so to think of riftmancy as an exercise of raising one's middle finger up at this particular target of hatred by forcing himself into the realm of the lord dragon's domain with lifestream tearing spite was, in a sense, the perfect compatibility.

"A little toy, huh? I suppose one needs somewhere to start, makes sense to me. I was a really terrible smith at one point, used to forge copper backscratchers for people while claiming they were masterworks. Excellent business model in Gehenna, terrible for self-improvement."

The drake would clack his teeth lightly together in thought, humming to himself as he mulled over another question.

"So you watched her teacher and picked up little bits from there. Didyou have any other teachers, or was that the gist of it?"
(Garrick)
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 The Ultovexian nodded.

"It's like a lil cube candle inna way. It works on the same idea o' rift. Ya need to maintain the light while it's bein' constantly drained. To rift, ya need to maintain the tear in the lifestream while the lifestrem attempts to constantly close it. Rifts are incapable of remainin' open due to the world attemptin' to naturally correct it."

To display, a hand would forwards. A rift would open above the table ahead of them. The space distorted, a small screaming of the world filling the air around them as Dusk and Aurum watched. But it would be easy to tell the lifestream was already working against it.

It was the reason for the many small rifts that opened and closed constantly around the Ultovexian. He hurt the lifestream, it would mend, but he would hurt it again.

"Many ways ta advance if ya try it. But ya. I watched how she learned. Didn't hav' a teacher o' ma own."
(Despair)
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 Garrick would cross his emerald, cracked scaled arms over the navy blue cotton of his engineer's coat and the black plate of his cuirass as he hummed to himself in contemplation, taking an idle drag from his cigarette as he clutched the smoke tightly between his draconic claws.

His eyes would study the demonstrated manifestation of the rift would focused, molten amber motes, removing a burn marred, leather bound journal from the seams of his coat before proceeding to scribble away with one of his claws and a manifested vial of sooty ink. A rough sketch of the rift was drawn with an engineer's attention to detail, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he nodded contently with study.

"So in causing a permanent scar that needs to be healed by force, you are in theory committing the ultimate act of spite against the lifestream. An eternally healing source being unable to heal, an inferno that does not waver to any amount of water or wind. How does it feel to open a rift from a user's standpoint?"
(Garrick)
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The rift remained opened long enough for Garrick to study. The Ultovexian would force it to remain open so the leatherbound journal to be drawn out. There would be a scribbling in the book, Garrick taking close attention to the way the rift was carved in the air and in the lifestream. But after a minute or two, the scar, the blemish that the Ultovexian created would once more close.

"Ideally? Ya. Ya leave something tha' lasts, something tha' can't heal, a wound tha' will always b open an' cuasin' pain. An enteral cut."

"To open a rift is a drainin' thang. Ya will find it takes great amount o' effort an' strain. A beginner can only make one per a short rest."
(Despair)
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 "Makes sense to me. I'm quite familiar with the act of exhausting myself to the brink of collapse from my time spent mastering metallurgy, you'd be surprised how many hours you can spend smashing rocks with your fists when it's the only way you can make money as a hammer jockey."

The drake would nod steadily as he shut the journal after making a few side notes regarding the particular topic of discussion. The sketch would give him something to go by, an idea of what to attempt to bring forth after he'd had some time with the aforementioned rift practice object.

Perhaps enough study of the thing could give him some ideas for engineering.

"Been a pretty informative session so far, largely have my work cut out for me in truth. It won't be something I expect to learn over night, but I'm not unfamiliar with the prospect of hard work for a long term payout. As I learned to sharpen the finest of blades, so too will my claws tear open the lifestream with a swipe. You have my thanks Lord Ultovex, I have no further questions for this evening."
(Garrick)
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 "I 'spose craftmen would know a bit mor' 'bout the use o' energy. True, masterin' the art o' maniulatin' metal could lead ta certain results. Smash enough thags, get betta at it. Rift is tha' way too."

The hand would once more return to the table as the Ultovexian would resume his relaxation.

"It ain't no thang. An' ya sur'? I ain't mind answserin' mor questions. Ya brought a good tribute. Tha' should b rewarded."
(Despair)
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 "In truth, I have you to thank for that Lord Ultovex. If the prospect of learning riftmancy had not required me to hunt down one I hated, I wouldn't have had half as much fire under me to hunt down someone that had betrayed me. In doing so, I have finally tasted the glorious retribution of a successful vengeance. I have found just how far I am willing to go for my ambitions, and that is as far as it takes and beyond."

The drake would blow a series of smoky rings once more up towards the distant rafters of the chaos tower as his molten eyes flicked between his steadily polished blade and his tutor, clacking his jagged rows of teeth together as he tried to think of a good final question. Finally, a thought would occur as his amber motes sparked with inspirational flame.

"I watched Laemor fight once before he was slain by Oath back when he was Nyx. The man warped about with some of that wayfinding business ladies like Magdalen and lady lookers like Adonis used. You think you could fight like that guy did with a sword, but cooler because you're using riftmancy like a man?"
(Garrick)
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The Ultovexian cackled.

"Tha's the point. Not only do the tributes improve ma powers. But by makin' it someone hated o' loved, ya get a sense o' catharisis. It builds ya malice. It builds ya hatred an' ya taste ta hurt the thangs around ya. Tha' is why such a method is useful fer teachin'. Retribution an' gain."

The smell of smoke made the Ultovexian sneeze, quickly wafting away the front of his nose.

"Ya are refferin' to his spatial style. Tha's some swordsman trick. I've neva been able ta pick tha' up, but ya mite hav' a chance ta. I've ma own style o' usin' the rifts different from tha'."
(Despair)
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 "I'd in truth only originally considered riftmancy in the grand scheme, of the ideal fiery scar in the sky and of the convenience of transport. But this...spatial style, the usage of rifts as its own sort of...element, that's a fascinating prospect. I'll make a note of it. Yet, that is not to say I could not improve my abilities by learning your methods as well Lord Ultovex."

The fire drakan would clack his teeth together lightly as he mulled over the thought, thinking upon the fair handful of times he'd watched Sors zip across the snow fields seemingly without effort. Nodding lightly, he'd gesture briefly in the air with his molten claws.

"How do you use rifts in a good fight?"
(Garrick)
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 "I use rifts to avoid strikes. A swordsman uses it to close distance an' do extra strikes, but I use 'em ta avoid wha' comes towards ma. Avoidant instead o' aggressively. Tha's the style."

"If ya want to use tha' riftomancy special wise, ya mite need a different teacher o' ta learn it on ya own. But I can start ta send ya on the way."
(Despair)
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 "You speak of them as if they are separate things Lord Ultovex, I see it as but two halves of the same masterful style. A true master swordsman must have a perfect offense and defense alike, to avoid the opponent's blows and strike your own with brutal strength and precision."

The drake would snap his claws together as he puffed idly from his cigarette, clacking his jagged teeth together with ambient clatter as he mulled over Lord Ultovex's description of his defensive abilities in battle. The drake had seen it with his own eyes, so it made sense to him even further when put down into words.

"If I can master the offensive swordsmanship of riftmancy, this....spatial style, and manifest the defensive potential of riftmancy as you describe in tandem, there will be not a blade on Agartha that could halt my passage."
(Garrick)
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 The Ultovexian nodded.

"I do see them separately. But I 'spose tha's jus' ta ma experience. In fights, it ain't ma forte ta always b crossin' the distance for offense. Mor often, I want ta b creatin' mor'."

Again the Ultovexian cough as more spoke filled the air, waving it away. Sors leaned back.

"But correct. If ya master both, it could provide ya wit' a real powerful swordsman style. The only one I've seen combine both is Malentine. He was real strong."
(Despair)
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 "I suppose it comes with a different view of combat as a swordsman myself. Unlike most wise people, I run directly at danger and try to stab it a little bit in the face. I'm naturally resilient as a fire drakan, even moreso as a molten magi of magma, so I'm used to manifesting the perfect defense in simply tanking hits directly to my face."

Garrick would bark lightly in laughter that didn't quite reach his eyes as he clacked his teeth together, flipping a page in his burn marred journal before marking down some fresh notes about the two described potentials of riftmancy in swordsmanship.

"As I saw very clearly with Laemor, it is a style of pure offense to lunge forth without precaution. That very same thing is what got him killed. So in my book, if you're going to have the ideal offense, you need to master something to watch your ass. My scales are still tough as iron, but better to dodge as many blows as I take if I'm going to be dropping my guard more often."
(Garrick)