Two mages walk into a bar....

[Zalbuu]

((Hilarity enthuth. This RP was something we dreamed up to help introduce the flavor of my new mage, before actually introducing him in-game. Now I actually have to cap the fucker....))

The Scourge had such an odd sense of decorum when you thought about it. Why was it they put so much effort into carving gaudy skulls, thin spires and vast hallways when they were hardly necessary and, indeed, only capable of being enjoyed by a small segment of the population? For whom was their art intended? It struck Laurus then that it was probably intended for him. At this moment, solely him. The hall would be almost peaceful were not for the presence of death. It was wide-maybe fifteen feet across, and lined all the way down into darkness with ornate golden candlesticks which glowed pale blue. Purple banners displaying the skull and broken hammers still draped from the ceiling. Apparently the Ebons had not yet gotten around to removing them in this section of the Shadow Vault. In the chaos of the Scourge's retreat and the Ebon Blade's tenuous occupation, there was so much left behind and unclaimed. Some repositories may as well have been unopened. And if the Ebons weren't about to grab their contents, Laurus Drachmas saw no reason not to make a few choice requisitions. He'd been working for them long enough it was practically due to him, anyway. He could hear his own footsteps echoing down the passage. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure what lay down this way for sure. He laughed, entirely to himself.

This continued for several minutes more without noticeable change. Nothing but rhythmic footsteps. Tap, tap, tap... Laurus stopped dead momentarily and lifted a brow. Tap, tap. Well, that was certainly odd. Was there something else alive in here? He shuffled to his right and peered up and down the hall. There it was again. Two steps not his own. The magus bristled and instinctively threw up a mana shield with a snap of his fingers, eyes searching the gloom. Suddenly, he realized the illumination lent itself to a great number of hiding places. One of the oddest things about human nature is that without provocation, people seldom look up. Laurus didn't think to until he heard the noise-yes, a very soft but recognizable sigh. Annoyed, he flung his head upward. Then his stare widened. "Tom? Tom Galavadore?"

With a mocking half-wave, Tom hopped away from the ceiling, performing a graceful midair somersault as he floated to the ground. He landed gently a dozen or so paces away, pausing for a moment to unnecessarily straighten the sleeves of his uniform, before returning his attention to Laurus. Polished boots softly clicking, Tom advanced towards Laurus, coming to a stop with a few feet from him. "Laurus Drachmas." His voice implied it was more an insult that a question. With an almost theatrical flair, Tom withdrew a note from inside his uniform, unfolded it, and began to read in a practiced bored tone. "For the possession of restricted material, property theft, murder, suspicion of murder, as well as numerous additional infractions, I hereby place you under arrest. You will be brought before the Council for summary judgment." Carefully folding the note again, he placed it back in his pocket before turning to face Laurus again. “I’ve finally caught you, you slippery fuck”, his face twisted into an expression that was half grin, half snarl.

"What in the Nether?!" Still overcome with incredulous shock, Laurus stumbled back a good three steps. He took the liberty of conjuring a shimmering ward of fire during Thomas' approach. Shit. He was alone and not paying attention. That's the kind of thing that kills a mage. It was only during the reading of the charges that he straightened and his expression melted into defiance. "Hah, hah! I see how it is, then. Out of curiosity, how did you find me again, Thomas? I was sure I set up a flawless misdirection!" Tom snorted in a marvelously undignified fashion. “The merchant, out of Theramore? Please. The man may have had the means, but he was not half as clever as you gave him credit for. It took us little time to sound him out. And after we had a little chat he became most...” Tom paused to study his nails. “…compliant.” "Yeah, well, that's fine." Laurus snorted somewhat bemusedly and leaned his weight onto his back foot in a duelist's stance. "It's just so funny, though! The depths the mighty Kirin Tor will sink to protect their thought-property. I'm surprised you decided to try me alone. Didn't really assign you the balls." At this Tom’s grin turned almost feral. He slowly drew his sword from its sheath, the polished blade gleaming in the pale light. Giving the blade a twirl, he fell into a fighting stance, glowering at Laurus from behind his weapon. “You know the Council wants you alive. Didn’t say I couldn’t make you even uglier than you already are though.”

"I knew that'd get him," he snickered quietly to himself. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up louder. "If you think I'm ugly, wait and see what's going to happen to--" He sprung into action mid-sentence, hoping to catch Thomas unguarded during their banter. Several quick, scorching explosions flew from his smoking palm. No such luck. Tom’s blade flashed, deflecting two of the flares, the third whizzing harmlessly by his ear. The kid was good, to be sure, and damn quick. “Too slow old man!” he called, sweeping a wave of fire down the hall towards Laurus. To some extent, he was correct. Laurus believed in brute force. "When'd you learn th-" He threw up his hands in a desperate attempt to strengthen the ward, snarling, blood pumping with rebellion. When the smoke cleared, Laurus still stood tall. "Oh, you're a little bastard, aren't you?!" He roared, tearing himself through reality and emerging next to the impudent whelp. The ground shook with the impact of his blast wave, sending flying chunks of stone into the wall with subsequent deafening crashes. "Let's see him dodge that," he marked inwardly. He didn’t. Though he must have managed some sort of ward, as instead of being fried to a crisp, Tom merely flew into the nearest wall, singed around the edges, with satisfyingly rumpled uniform. He recovered almost instantly however, launching himself off the wall straight at Laurus. Arcane energy flew from the tip of his sword, while his free hand arced a ball of fire straight at Laurus’s head.

"What the fuck?!" The rogue wizard felt his knees buckle under the strain of his opponent's flurry. His fire ward was gone, but what remained of the mana shield glowed red, convulsed and died on the swirling flames. Then came the missiles. Those stung. Laurus felt oozing, wet blood on his flank. He struggled to regain his focus, flipping on his mana shield again and assuming a counterspelling stance. Breathe, Laurus. Think. Tom wasn’t about to make it easy on him. Even as tendrils of smoke still rose from his hair, the other mage was winding up another attack, fire licking around his fingers as it gathered strength. There! "No!" He grabbed the flows which pumped into the gathering spell and yanked, rending them in two. Laurus growled with wicked, wolfish satisfaction. That'd shut him down for a while. Which meant..."Here, piggy! Squeal for me, piggy!" His hands flashed cyan. A momentary look of surprise flashed across Tom’s face, but the next instant the grin was back, bigger than ever. “Too slow again!” he chortled, and Laurus felt the gathering magical forces begin to tug at his own spell. It meant he left himself open after the blast wave. "Wrong!" No sooner did he feel the pull than he dropped the polymorph. The flows tangled inside each other, useless and empty.

"Burn!" Laurus felt his mind expand a thousandfold. Equations clicked together in his head effortlessly. At his belt, trinkets touched by his thoughts sprung into flashing rebirth with seductive hums. The gathering storm licked fel fire at his feet which scorched the cold floor. Finally, an enormous boulder lanced out of his outstretched hand, leaving bright sparks in its wake. Before he could even hear the impact, he'd already followed it with another blast of stunning fire. Smoke and rubble filled the hall, obscuring his handiwork. From the lack of clever retort however, Laurus assumed that had done the trick. He'd won! Lord Drachmas the Great, triumphant once more! "Ahahah!" Laurus waved his hand in an effort to clear away the mass of smoke to no avail. He wanted to see that bastard's face one more time, just for a parting kick. With his vision still clouded, the rapidly approaching footfalls rung clear from a direction he could not discern. Shit. Somewhere in the smoke there was a cough and a groan. No! He had to die! "Where are you, you sonofabitch? I'm going to scorch your soul! You can't just--" They were close, now. Too close. A stream of explicatives echoed in the air before Laurus disappeared. He'd use the invisibility to escape to another portal. "Not over!" Behind him came a weak chuckle. "See you...next time...."