Alberdyne_Cormyr
04-11-14, 06:50 PM
(Note this is a Solo in which I will use several of my characters. Thank you very much.)
It was a weather worn tome.
The son of Michael Cormyr looked at the text on the pages very carefully. They were written by the hands of ancient psionics, pre dating The Demon's War and The War of The Tap. It was a relic to be sure, and it had been difficult to acquire such a relic. However, Alberdyne Cormyr was hungry. He was seeking the ancient texts as part of a way to learn to control his mysteriously growing power. He spent those nights reading the ancient texts, attempting to rediscover the secrets of his people. Gleaming some knowledge from the texts, Alberdyne wanted more. It was not enough for him to simply learn to control his power, he wanted MASTERY over it. He was destined to protect those around him, those that he loved. Most importantly, he was destined to protect the world in it's darkest hour. Alberdyne read the books over and over. He was certain that the key he needed lurked in one of those old tomes. His Father had acquired the books from a contact in the Monks of the Order. Alberdyne had been in his room reading ever since his Father found the works. Alberdyne Cormyr was part of a lasting legacy. His Father, was a Hero from several wars, and participated in the Corone War. He'd sided with the Corone Rangers. Alberdyne knew that amongst the defenders of Radasanth, Michael Cormyr had gathered tremendous accolades for The Cormyr House.
Al's eyes were straining from reading in the old books. They were in old Radasanthi, a higher form of the common tongue used all throughout Althanas. It was an elegant system of writing that was constructed before The Demon War of Althanas history. Scholars still used that language to this day. The syntax and structure of Radasanthi text was a bit of an undertaking to decipher. Al's Father, Michael Cormyr, had taught him the language in his youth. Al had roughly a dozen tomes to study. The tomes were works that spoke of a mysterious "Secret Art". An elevated path, or philosophy, that was the result of a powerful mind. A mind capable of handling the enhanced properties of it's own structure. Al possessed such a mind and knew that the tomes would reveal secrets.
That night, he was working on reading the entire set for the fifth time. Michael Cormyr, told the boy to commit the work to MEMORY as closely as possible. Al recalled that his Father said the works had to be committed, and required full studying to learn. The secrets would be deciphered on their own. Al read the tomes from the moment his Father had brought them into the Cormyr house. He drank strong coffee, and had been up the entire time without sleep. Al had an obsession and a desire to acquire more knowledge. Further, he wanted to gain control over his mysterious power. He knew his Father had it, and other members of his family had the gift as well. Al read the last book quickly and went back over notes that he had written himself in the common tongue. Al had legible hand writing and kept several journals jam packed with the notes he was gleaming from the books. The books contained formula, and incantations required for the mantra of the mind. Al had learned a great deal in a short amount of time, and that knowledge would be used for the greater good. He was a Cormyr, and that household produced Heroes of note for many generations now.
Al wrote in his journal at the same time as he read. His eyes going back and forth between the pages as he jotted down and scribbled various of his own personal notes. The constructs and simulacram he studied in the tomes were things that Al already knew about. However, he didn't know the vast potential that the formula would have. He was jotting down a few more notes when he finally felt he was ready. His writing hand, he was ambidextrous and opted to work with his left hand. His fancy quill pen had a full jet of ink in the nub. He dipped it in black ink every so often to continue to write his notes. Once he jotted down the last few personal notes, he sighed with satisfaction. It had taken several weeks, but Al had finally acquired the secrets that would satiate him for the time being.
"Now the application." Al said to himself.
His room was a quiet room in a large, three floor house. The bed occupied a large section of the room, and he sat at a desk that was made of a amber stained wood. He had several books scattered about and in various piles all over his rooms. A simple incense stick burned on the desk, smoke streaming upwards and into the air. A lantern lit the room. It was night outside by the time that Al had finally finished his work. His eyes were strained, and his muscles were sore from the uncomfortable position but the research was necessary. His services would soon be required for the Cormyr House. Al stretched after he cleaned the nib of his quill pen. He put everything away and closed the cap of the ink bottle. He rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes. They burned from strain, however, he had plenty of coffee to drink. It was a local Scara Brae recipe. The room smelled really good, and aside from the mess of books was quite clean. His bed was even well made. Al concentrated for a moment to apply the formula that he had learned. And in application had learned something in a very short period of time: he was limiting himself. I have this vast potential, I have to stop holding myself back. I am going to reach the potential I have. After a few moments, there was an interesting reaction in the room. SEVERAL of the larger sized books began to levitate on their own as Alberdyne Cormyr concentrated.
The books floated a few inches off their stationary surface. Then, they moved towards different positions in a neat stack on top of Al's bed.
"Perfectly done."
Al heard his Father's voice and turned to look him. "Dad." Al said. "Thank you for the books. I have committed the entire library to memory."
"Only took a month."
"Sorry for the delay I had to be certain." Al said casually.
"Certain of what?"
"That it was the real deal. I have to gain control and mastery of my power." Al rubbed his chin and took a long sip of his coffee. "The teachings were a little difficult to apply, but I did learn them." Al became suddenly very serious. "Dad, the works state I can become quite strong. But I all I want to do is be competent."
"You have vast potential my son." He said. "The mind is only limited by ourselves. You can break through all of the barriers and social stigmas we have placed on our own minds."
Al looked away for a moment. "All I want is to help people." He said, it was an honest goal. Honest men desired honest things.
"And you will. Believe me my son, you are meant for great things. You will one day save the world."
It was a weather worn tome.
The son of Michael Cormyr looked at the text on the pages very carefully. They were written by the hands of ancient psionics, pre dating The Demon's War and The War of The Tap. It was a relic to be sure, and it had been difficult to acquire such a relic. However, Alberdyne Cormyr was hungry. He was seeking the ancient texts as part of a way to learn to control his mysteriously growing power. He spent those nights reading the ancient texts, attempting to rediscover the secrets of his people. Gleaming some knowledge from the texts, Alberdyne wanted more. It was not enough for him to simply learn to control his power, he wanted MASTERY over it. He was destined to protect those around him, those that he loved. Most importantly, he was destined to protect the world in it's darkest hour. Alberdyne read the books over and over. He was certain that the key he needed lurked in one of those old tomes. His Father had acquired the books from a contact in the Monks of the Order. Alberdyne had been in his room reading ever since his Father found the works. Alberdyne Cormyr was part of a lasting legacy. His Father, was a Hero from several wars, and participated in the Corone War. He'd sided with the Corone Rangers. Alberdyne knew that amongst the defenders of Radasanth, Michael Cormyr had gathered tremendous accolades for The Cormyr House.
Al's eyes were straining from reading in the old books. They were in old Radasanthi, a higher form of the common tongue used all throughout Althanas. It was an elegant system of writing that was constructed before The Demon War of Althanas history. Scholars still used that language to this day. The syntax and structure of Radasanthi text was a bit of an undertaking to decipher. Al's Father, Michael Cormyr, had taught him the language in his youth. Al had roughly a dozen tomes to study. The tomes were works that spoke of a mysterious "Secret Art". An elevated path, or philosophy, that was the result of a powerful mind. A mind capable of handling the enhanced properties of it's own structure. Al possessed such a mind and knew that the tomes would reveal secrets.
That night, he was working on reading the entire set for the fifth time. Michael Cormyr, told the boy to commit the work to MEMORY as closely as possible. Al recalled that his Father said the works had to be committed, and required full studying to learn. The secrets would be deciphered on their own. Al read the tomes from the moment his Father had brought them into the Cormyr house. He drank strong coffee, and had been up the entire time without sleep. Al had an obsession and a desire to acquire more knowledge. Further, he wanted to gain control over his mysterious power. He knew his Father had it, and other members of his family had the gift as well. Al read the last book quickly and went back over notes that he had written himself in the common tongue. Al had legible hand writing and kept several journals jam packed with the notes he was gleaming from the books. The books contained formula, and incantations required for the mantra of the mind. Al had learned a great deal in a short amount of time, and that knowledge would be used for the greater good. He was a Cormyr, and that household produced Heroes of note for many generations now.
Al wrote in his journal at the same time as he read. His eyes going back and forth between the pages as he jotted down and scribbled various of his own personal notes. The constructs and simulacram he studied in the tomes were things that Al already knew about. However, he didn't know the vast potential that the formula would have. He was jotting down a few more notes when he finally felt he was ready. His writing hand, he was ambidextrous and opted to work with his left hand. His fancy quill pen had a full jet of ink in the nub. He dipped it in black ink every so often to continue to write his notes. Once he jotted down the last few personal notes, he sighed with satisfaction. It had taken several weeks, but Al had finally acquired the secrets that would satiate him for the time being.
"Now the application." Al said to himself.
His room was a quiet room in a large, three floor house. The bed occupied a large section of the room, and he sat at a desk that was made of a amber stained wood. He had several books scattered about and in various piles all over his rooms. A simple incense stick burned on the desk, smoke streaming upwards and into the air. A lantern lit the room. It was night outside by the time that Al had finally finished his work. His eyes were strained, and his muscles were sore from the uncomfortable position but the research was necessary. His services would soon be required for the Cormyr House. Al stretched after he cleaned the nib of his quill pen. He put everything away and closed the cap of the ink bottle. He rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes. They burned from strain, however, he had plenty of coffee to drink. It was a local Scara Brae recipe. The room smelled really good, and aside from the mess of books was quite clean. His bed was even well made. Al concentrated for a moment to apply the formula that he had learned. And in application had learned something in a very short period of time: he was limiting himself. I have this vast potential, I have to stop holding myself back. I am going to reach the potential I have. After a few moments, there was an interesting reaction in the room. SEVERAL of the larger sized books began to levitate on their own as Alberdyne Cormyr concentrated.
The books floated a few inches off their stationary surface. Then, they moved towards different positions in a neat stack on top of Al's bed.
"Perfectly done."
Al heard his Father's voice and turned to look him. "Dad." Al said. "Thank you for the books. I have committed the entire library to memory."
"Only took a month."
"Sorry for the delay I had to be certain." Al said casually.
"Certain of what?"
"That it was the real deal. I have to gain control and mastery of my power." Al rubbed his chin and took a long sip of his coffee. "The teachings were a little difficult to apply, but I did learn them." Al became suddenly very serious. "Dad, the works state I can become quite strong. But I all I want to do is be competent."
"You have vast potential my son." He said. "The mind is only limited by ourselves. You can break through all of the barriers and social stigmas we have placed on our own minds."
Al looked away for a moment. "All I want is to help people." He said, it was an honest goal. Honest men desired honest things.
"And you will. Believe me my son, you are meant for great things. You will one day save the world."