11th Keeper of Fire, and the Tainting of the Tower

[Vanion Shadowcast]

Following his double victory over ex-Keeper of Fire, Illusia Drasoini, Vanion Shadowcast took a few minutes to gloat. It is not terribly important exactly what occured in the dueling area of the Arena that night, save the dark elf's ascension to Mage-hood, and successful challenge for the Key of Fire. What is important was what followed, concerning the elf's decision to explore his new home, and powers.

The Key itself was now worn around Vanion's neck on a chain. The once brass key, as well as the chain that bore it, had both darkened to pitch black, reflecting the vampire's necromantic ties.

The vampire floated down, inside the mouth of the monstrous volcano on Twilight Isle. He landed softly on the bed of lava there, but his feet did not burn, nor did he catch aflame. The Key about his neck hummed lightly, and Vanion walked upon the bed of molten lava, approaching the Tower of Fire - his new home. As he walked, the liquid inferno changed colour, slowly darkening from a firey red to a pitch black beneath his feat. Finally, he reached the Tower, its walls made from living flame itself.

"Open.", the vampire commanded the large, double-sided door that lay before him. His black key throbbed with mystic power, and the Tower of Fire opened for its new keeper.

Vanion Shadowcast grinned. The Symbiosis had begun.

[Vanion Shadowcast]

The night after his victory, Vanion decided to treat himself to a drink. It was this decision that brought him out of the Tower which he now inhabited, and to the Outback – a place he had been to on only rare occasions. He entered, and took notice of there only being a few patrons that night. He strode, without delay, to the bar and ordered a glass of Bloodwyne. He sat there for nearly an hour – no caller arrived, and only a few patrons were there. One of them, Farek, was a man that he found himself at odds with since the Key of Fire had been slipped around his neck. Farek was the Keeper of Water, so of course the new feelings of opposition would only be natural.

His musings were washed away by the coarse voice of Farek, “Damn. This place is living up to its name.” Farek spat from the corner of his lips and pulled the cork from a bottle of liquor. With a cigar still between his teeth, he took a pull of the juniper spirit.

It was then that an unknown woman spoke. A half-elf, half-breed bitch, at that – he could tell by the smell of her. She wore armor, and appeared to be some sort of Knight, which Vanion mused as being odd. Her voice was soft, gentle, and very beautiful, “What name is being lived up to?” She obviously had not been here before.

Farek swiveled the barstool, scrutinizing the female for a brief moment before speaking, “The Outback.”

She lifted the helm from her head, holding it easily under one arm, then replied, “Why do you think it’s living up to its name?”


Vanion snickered and interjected, “Because it is obviously a dive.”

“A dive? Clearly you cannot see the stark beauty of the place.”, she seemed genuinely confused. Not surprising, she was a half-breed.

Farek spoke once more, “Stark beauty.” The brigand gave the woman a throaty chuckle before he downed another healthy – or unhealthy – portion of gin. “That’s just another word for ugly as Hell."

She then turned and walked to Dimitri, likely hoping for a friendlier face. Dimitri was, more or less, Vanion’s personal slave and emotional/physical punching bag. The dark elf sipped his Bloodwyne and watched with amusement as they conversed for the next hour. She flirted, removed her armor, and told Dimitri of her service to the Crimson Star, which seemed to Vanion to likely be just be another cult, like the Temple of the Divine Light. As Vanion continued to silently eavesdrop, he learned that she was, indeed, a half-elf and a Knight, as he had assumed. Her name, as it happened to be, was Jasmina Dara. Vanion found her quite attractive, despite being a half-breed.

Dimitri and Jasmina had found a table to sit at, when Vanion’s mood changed from good to – well, bad. He had been playing with his new power, without conscious thought, creating a small flame in his palm and running his other hand through it, when the Keeper of Water decided to become witty.

“We know you’re the Keeper of Fire, jackass. There’s no reason to keep doing that.”, Farek shot an annoyed pass at the vampire. Jasmina turned to watch, but the fire was already flickering inside Vanion’s dead eyes, and dead heart.

The Elf stood from his stool and pointed to an open space, ignoring the whispers back and forth between Dimitri and Jasmina as they watched the scene unfold. Vanion’s voice was strong and resolute as he pointed, “Mister Talkative. Time to get your ass kicked.”

Farek responded with a sneer, “I have nothing to prove to you, cretin.”

Vanion never brought down his arm, “Good. Then I take it you won’t even bother fighting back. I thought as much, Keeper of Water.”

Farek barely seemed interested. “Sit down, hardass.”, was his only reply. The next few minutes involved Jasmina, the stupid half-breed worm, ignorantly inquiring about Keepers, and Gork, the Keeper of Earth, trying to calm the situation with his particular brand of humor. All Vanion could see, though, was the colour red. And Blood.

[Vanion Shadowcast]

When it became obvious that Farek was not going to give him a bout, it was the half-elf woman who gave Vanion a brilliant idea. She proclaimed, “I was told the best chance to work on my Knight’s Skills would be to come here tonight.”

Vanion’s voice was taunting as he indicated Jasmina with his hand. “You. Draw. Dimitri, call.”

Jasmina’s reply seemed confused, “But there’s no official.”

Vanion grinned effortlessly and retorted, “Doesn’t need to be an official duel. You just want practice, right, girl? I need practice with swords also. It's been many months since I’ve even held one.”

Jasmina smiled back, mistaking his grin for friendliness. “I’m here for practice, yes.”

Dimitri warned her to be careful, but everything seemed polite. The Mage, Vincent entered shortly thereafter, as well as the Priestess from the Temple of Divine Light, then others of the usual Outback crowd. Vanion was focused on the duel, itself, though. The duel, and seeing exactly what new powers he possessed.

Vanion Shadowcast stepped into an open area, and in his hand appeared suddenly a blade made from what looked to be still burning molten lava. After a few moments, the magical magma cooled, and a fine looking blade was left in its place. Jasmina did not seem particularly impressed, but did offered a polite smile as she unsheathed her sabre, which the vampire elf mirrored politely without much thought.

What followed next, was both fast, and brutal. Vanion pulled a grazing thrust to her sword arm, and she inserted the saber soundly between his ribs. He almost convulsed out of surprise – but, instead, he slowly pulled himself backwards, freeing his body of the blade. He then spoke, his voice darkening and growing more sinister, “That… was unnecessary roughness, you half-breeded bitch.”

With that, he rolled his wrist around, feinting a high cut, then coming back hard, fixing her leg with a gashing wound. Vanion heard Dimitri yell something, but his focus was entirely upon this female Knight infront of him in the ring. All words were drowned out by the crimson wash that had flooded the elf’s eyes. Jasmina retreated from the blow, and tried to position herself into a parry, but Vanion gripped the hilt of his blade with his free hand and slashed hard, battering her sword out of the way, and leaving an open wound on the side of her face.

Dimtri Locherin stepped forward at this, putting himself between the two. Telekenetically, Vanion simply pushed him aside as-if he were a rag-doll. Jasmina held one hand to her face and attempted to ward back the elf who had painted his sword with her blood. Vanion would have no such thing, and he thrust past her sword-arm, then cut back, slicing into it yet again.

Vanion grinned, knowing he had severed both muscle and tendon in her arm with the previous blow. Mercilessly, he impaled the blade into her gut, releasing his grip on it and taking a step back. Dimitri yelped, like a child in the dark elf’s mind, and grabbed onto Jasmina. He carefully slid the blade out and held it – he had healed worse wounds before, Jasmina would be alright. The attention of the entire Outback had turned to the practice duel that had turned so savage.

[Vanion Shadowcast]

It shocked those that witnessed what happened next. Vanion deftly placed his hands to either side of the half-elf Knight’s head, and twisted viciously, snapping her neck. Jasmina Dara crumpled to the ground and was lifelessly still.

Dimitri could barely utter the word, “Why?...” as he fell to the ground in grief. The others in the Arena just looked on in horror as things got even worse.

“Why not?”, hissed the dark elf in reply. Then he allowed himself an unfriendly laugh. “Oh. Are you sad because she showed some pathetic interest in you, Dimitri? Any creature interested in you deserves no less a fate. Remember that.”

Dimitri crossed back to his seat silently, Jasmina’s saber still in his hand, and looked at her armor that lie there. He remembered her smile as she went to duel just minutes before, could see her lips blow him a kind kiss.

Vanion tossed a dagger at Dimitri’s feet and offered, “You may want to use that in a minute.” The elf’s white eyes then turned pitch black, as he uttered unintelligible words.

A moment passed… and then, the corpse of Dimitri’s friend began to twitch. It slowly stood, its eyes pale green and lifeless. The zombie dove for Dimitri, grabbing onto its saber. Dimitri released the weapon and took a quick step back. Jasmina’s dead eyes were still locked on the other half-elf, though, as she gripped the blade menacingly.

Dimitri summoned the magicks he had learned as a younger man, and a Golem appeared where there was but dirt before. Dimitri scampered behind the Golem, hoping to put some distance between himself and the undead creature. It took merely a flicker of effort from the Keeper of Fire to incinerate Dimitri’s magical bodyguard, though, and once again the half-elf was staring into the eyes of his undead friend.

Vincent Smith moved to stand next to Vanion and watch the event objectively, as Farek merely leaned back against the bar, amused by the scene. The Keeper of Water had no desire to combat Vanion’s powers with his own. This was entertaining, and cost nothing.

As Jasmina’s contorted, dead body shambled closer and closer to Dimitri, the half-elf’s choices were running out. Dimitri summoned a mage bolt and blasted the corpse to keep it away. Upon impact, the once-beautiful half-elven body of Jasmina Dara turned into dust, and fell to sleep on the ground with the other dust of the Outback. A second later, Jasmina's saber dropped to the dirt silently.

Vanion Shadowcast watched Dimitri fall to the ground, emotionally exhausted by what had just happened. The dark elf could only laugh, as he taunted Dimitri, “Aww, Dimitri. You just killed a swell gal. Have a good evening!”

With that, Vanion offered Dimitri a grin, and then dissolved into mist. It was merely minutes before Vanion was resting in his throne within the Tower of Fire, glad that he had at least been able to have some fun on an otherwise boring night.

[Vanion Shadowcast]

In the Tower of Fire, on Twilight Isle, a lava elemental communicated messages from Vanion's network of spies. Now that he was learning to tie his necromancy and magery into the nature of the Isle itself, any creature under his sphere of control became his eyes - his ears. He knew of Sylus' wish to kill him - knew of Dimitri's words spoken behind his back - knew of the unfolding events that would occur soon on the Streets of RhyDin.

Dimitri, he expected as much from - he had broken the half-breed's spirits again and again, but that silly Guild gave him a support center, and he still remained bold when he ignorantly thought himself to be safe. Sylus, he did not even worry about. To Vanion, Sylus was a self-dellusioned crazy-man. He had seen the man in action before, and was very largely unimpressed. The dark elf also saw the betrayal that was in the man's eyes - his warning to the full-elf, Alais, had not been entirely for his personal purposes of manipulation.

As for the mysteries that were the Temple of Divine Light - well, that was one particular game in which he was neither player, nor pawn. Events would unfold as they may, and he would, as he had done for nearly one-thousand years now, find opportunity in whatever resulted.

Vanion waved away the elemental, giving him a telepathic command to watch the doorways into the Isle - and to pay specific attention to anyone involved with the Temple of Divine Light, or the Adventurer's Guild. He then stood and turned to the wall behind him. Runes covered what appeared to be stone, yet a moment later Vanion's hands reached out, laying flatly against the wall. There was a visual shifting there, a trick of the eyes - and the wall melted away. Vanion crossed the barrier, not bothering to see if the wall had reformed behind him. Of course it had, the Tower was becoming more and more bent to his Will.

He would take his Keepership seriously, and protect the Isle at all costs, as those before him had done - however, that did not keep him from persuing his own personal agenda. And currently, that included training for the Talon of Redwin Tournament, as well as the Arch-Mage Tournament. For could he obtain the Celestial Tower - well, then RhyDin would be in for one Hell of a ride.

[Vanion Shadowcast]

After losing in the semi-finals of the Archmage Tournament, the dark elf, Vanion Shadowcast, knew that he had much time to bide. He sat there, in his throne, lording over the domain of Fire on the Isle - waiting for word from Alia. Until she made contact, he had no true need to leave the Isle, or his Tower. He had focused instead on connecting himself deeper and deeper with the source of the Tower's power. It had been years since the volcano on the Isle had been as active as the idle days that Vanion merged himself with the Tower's primal magic.

It was easier done than one would think - his elemental slaves and animal allies on the Isle brought him food to sup on, and he could communicate psychically if need-be with anyone desiring to speak with him. His eyes were always upon those on the Isle, and he felt his strength increasing daily - next time he faced Vincent in a magical duel, the potent mage would not come back to defeat him. He would be Archmage, and he would complete the ritual which would change the face of RhyDin. What was left of his humanity depended on it.

All of this he pondered as he dismissively ordered one of his firey minions to deliver a simple scroll to one Lothar Blacklance. It read:

"To Lothar,
We spoke the other night. I have much to offer you, both in the way of power and wealth, but also in the way of training. Come to the Tower of Fire, on the Isle of Twilight. Its doors will open to you, and I shall wait for you there.

Sincerely Yours,
Vanion Shadowcast"

[Vanion Shadowcast]

The day of Etherean Esperwind's challenge, not a muscle moved on Vanion's body, as he sat on his Throne of Fire. He had spent much time here, in his Tower, connecting himself to the primal forces which his new powers granted - and he would be damned if his old captain would wrest the black key from his so soon.

He mused that he had no right to be angry - with his naturally aggressive disposition, he had expected a challenge from somewhere. He would not be stopped, though, no matter who the challenger.

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As the day dawned on the Isle of Twilight, something had changed. Within the mouth of St. Elmo's Fire, the lava had darkened to a soiled black color. Indeed, the Flaming Tower itself had turned black as night.

Inside the Tower of Fire, the Keeper's pale white eyes now reflected the color of the Tower walls. Vanion Shadowcast moved a muscle for the first time in many hours. He lips curled up into a victorious grin - he had tainted the element of fire on the Isle - any fire now used would be dark, necromantic, and black.

Etherean Esperwind would have his work cut out that night.

[Esperwind]

Etherean stood outside the tainted Tower, gazing up at the the structure. It stood before him like a monolithic funeral pyre, ablaze in dark flames. If not for the powers newly confered upon him with the transference of the Key, his flesh would have been roasted from his skeleton by the unholy heat. He paused for a moment to consider the events that had brought him to this point.

He had not particularly desired the title and responsibilites of Keeper, but Vanion's manner had irritated him on multiple levels to the point where he felt the challenge was called for. For one, an Elven vampire would not be considered even a second class citizen at best within an Elven society. Etherean's experience with the darker arts initially allowed him to overlook this detail during Vanion's membership on Team Twilight. However, since that point in time, Vanion appears to have let go of his Elven heritage and let his actions be controlled by darker urges. Two, Vanion's mocking of the half-elf Dimitri for his mixed ancestory was annoying, since Vanion's mixed life/undeath state is obviously a much greater affront against Elven standards. The third and final straw seemed to be Vanion's appearance on the Isle in an official capacity with a manner that was blatantly disrespectful of the certain patrons and other incumbent Keepers. Even Elven necromancers must have standards, after all.

His thoughts returning to the present, he considered the dark and necromantic aspect that now tainted the Fire. Although it had a certain appeal, it would either have to be cleansed, or else Farek would have to convert to a Paladin and make all of the water on the Isle holy. The latter was not all that appealing, and if neither came to pass, then the balance that the Keepers were supposed to help impose might begin to break apart. The cleansing would take some time, but the current aspect would most likely prove educational in the meantime. The color, however, would have to change. Black flames were just not his style.

With ceremonial care and precision, Etherean stepped forward and inserted the key into the bronze double doors that served as the main entry point to the Tower, the doors swung inward, then closed behind him as he sauntered inside.

[Vanion Shadowcast]

After having lost two tough matches to his former captain, Vanion Shadowcast could have been angry. He could have been frustrated.

Yet, as Etherean Esperwind took the Key of Fire to the volcano, in order to take his place as the new Keeper of Fire, the vampire could only offer a slight smile. Vanion's hands reached to a perfectly cut crystal, hanging from a necklace that hung around his neck. The crystal emitted a brilliant white glow in response to the contact with his undead skin.

"Thank you, Etherean...", Vanion spoke in what was barely a whisper. The light within the crystal reacted again, and then faded away.


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Vanion had learned much during his reign as Keeper of Fire. Granted, he would have liked to study the element longer, but as always, Vanion was an opportunist. He would wait his month, and seek out a new element to master. In the meantime, the Crystal of Quyl'Isha would further his plans for the future.

For a moment, as the dark elf left the Isle, he briefly considered calming his particularly offensive style of living. It was considered only for a moment - the vampire was hungry, and he had already decided to treat himself to quite a feast.

Vanion would be Vanion, and in merely a matter of months, his race would be liberated from the filth that plagued it.

[Shahai Iida]

(( This happened before the Challenge Match ))


You know, a person cannot walk in RhyDin in peace. I went to the Isle, looking for some hot tea and a quiet evening out. I was not looking for trouble, and yet I was acosted by a young woman the moment I reached a table at the Isle. She was clearly a child of the streets, with the mannerisms and vulgar speech associated with that level of existence. The urchin carried a knife, and she came deliberately seeking to bait me into a fight. Her gentleman is the one who'd shot me once before, and it was him I worried most about. And then there was Dimitri. The one my Master had the agreement with, the one who would not fulfill his end of the bargain that had been struck.

My blood dagger slid easily into my hand as the street urchin continued her innane banter. It would have been so sweet to sink my dagger into her chest, opening the lungs and watching pink froth spill forth, but, alas, Daigotsu had told me to lay low for awhile, and I could not make the first move against her.

She babbled about having a message for me, yet never got around to stating it.

Vanion stepped forward at that point, and challenged Artemus to back off. "I...don't...think....so. Leave the poor witch alone. She's just one woman."

Cheyenne continued to babble about someone looking for Daigotsu and myself as my attention focused more on Vanion. Cheyenne asked me if I was going to pay attention to her, but I was more intrigued with Vanion. At that point, she chimed up with "Are you sure about that, or maybe I'll just go and find Yajindin, I'm sure he'd be more interested anyway."

I linked my arm with Vanion, wrapping a blood tendril around the vampire's wrist. Turning obsidian eyes on Cheyenne, "I very much doubt you of all people can find the Third One."

Dimitri kept trying to talk to me, but I'd made an agreement with Vanion to leave Dimitri alone in exchange for other things.

Vanion grew weary of the others and said "The next person to attempt to harm this ... woman .... on this Isle, will meet with the full resistance of the Keeper of Fire. And you'll find on this Isle, most of you breathe at my complete mercy."

Esperwind spoke up at that point. "Do not assume I will be so inclinde Vanion."

I looked over at Esper, "you have no quarrel with me".

He smiled and let it be known that when he became the Keeper of Fire, I would not nave the same promise of a defender.

" I have made no overt actions against any here Esper, why should the Keeper of Fire not offer protection?"

Esper's reply made me laugh. "And besides, no overt action does not imply that one is not a threat, or needs to be defended."

"Do I look dangerous to you?" I shot back.

"Looks have always been deceiving here" he replied. I laughed, he is absolutely correct, but I had not been the aggressor this night.

Vanion subsequently invited me into the Tower of Fire. I left with the vampiric elf while Dimitri continued to try to reach me. I do not know what he desired, but I had given my word to Vanion, and Dimitri is Vanion's to command.

[Esperwind]

((reflecting events a couple of weeks prior))

Weakness. He had shown weakness in asking the Archmage and Melgarth for assistance in dealing with the taint, weakness that the Archmage had exploited the next time they had dueled. Yes, removing the necromantic taint from the Fires of the Isle would certainly be easier with Mur and Melgarth's help, but the momentary lapse of judgement in deciding to ask for their help had already cost him one small victory, and he was determined it would cost him no others.

Within his palm he held what some called the Orb of Souls. It's previous possessor had no use for it, and due to the conterfeit left in its place, would not likely notice its absence for some time. It was well suited for the task at hand, for multiple reasons. Its use and presence would be key in the coming struggle.

[Esperwind]

It was complete. Outside, the fires of the tower burned red and orange. Inside, Etherean slumped wearily on a chair of semi molten magma. Cradled within his palms, an obsidian orb glowed with anti-light that swirled angrily within its confines. Isolating Vanion's taint and imprisoning it within the orb had not been an easy task, and had taken him over week to accomplish. It had struggled against his efforts as if it had a will of its own, but he had pursued it with Elven patience. Now, its energies were held in check and could be studied as time allowed. Perhaps they would prove useful if Vanion troubled the Isle again....