[ he ... does not mind the smoking, but he might also cough very slightly. he immediately frowns because yeah that he probably could have guessed and not stuck his foot into, but.
he has no filter and will never learn. ]
I'm very sorry to hear that. [ ... ] I hope that it comes across as intended when I say that your memory of her was lovely. She seemed like a wonderful person.
[ Gale you're the best. At least Daan is less of a chainsmoking asshole than Wolfwood was so he keeps it mild and obviously blows the smoke in an away direction, any presence of a breeze considered.
His expression softens the slightest when Gale says all that though. ]
Thanks. And yeah, she was. Beautiful woman -- inquisitive. A proper lady like you could expect from someone of her stature, but not the pompous sort.
I doubt it is standard, nor should it be. Though I admire your outlook, to be able to reflect on the good parts. I think you are correct that perhaps letting the tragedy taint the important parts is also a loss.
[ It's on instinct that he raises a hand to shield himself from the darkness that encroaches forth from the book, biting teeth, threatening to swallow -- even though it's just a memory, and someone else's at that. ]
...
[ This is why he doesn't really like delving into the occult, especially those with obvious warning signs -- but Gale is Gale. ]
[ well, it's very much a pride before the fall cautionary tale. so it seems logical to see it as a warning against such things. ]
From magic? Or from the foolish mistakes of wizards before me?
[ because perhaps the answer is neither, at least not permanently. he takes the mark on his chest. ]
It is the origin of this. The Netherese Orb. It ... consumes magic. I was very lucky I was not outright killed in that moment, and likely only survived because of my status as an Archmage with a deep enough well of magic to satisfy the initial blast. First it consumed my magic, and then began the work of consuming my very spirit. Endlessly. It cannot be sated, never entirely, and for long months I couldn't cast a cantrip, let alone get out of bed for more than few minutes of exhausted movement. Mystra had abandoned as my punishment, only silence in response to prayers and to beseechment.
Eventually I found the temporary treatment - or Tara did, I suppose. The "consumption" of magical items. I could absorb the Weave from an object infused with a powerful enough magical source and it would alleviate the symptoms. I could call upon my magic again. Certainly not to the level I was accustomed to, but ... enough.
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he has no filter and will never learn. ]
I'm very sorry to hear that. [ ... ] I hope that it comes across as intended when I say that your memory of her was lovely. She seemed like a wonderful person.
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His expression softens the slightest when Gale says all that though. ]
Thanks. And yeah, she was. Beautiful woman -- inquisitive. A proper lady like you could expect from someone of her stature, but not the pompous sort.
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It seems as if she cared for you in equal measure. [ ... ] It doesn't seem fair. To have had such a difficult childhood, and then yet more tragedy.
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[ His life really is. It... is. ]
The years I had with her were my best. I'll always appreciate her for that.
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[ but uh.
awkward memory time.]
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...
[ This is why he doesn't really like delving into the occult, especially those with obvious warning signs -- but Gale is Gale. ]
Did any of that actually deter you?
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From magic? Or from the foolish mistakes of wizards before me?
[ because perhaps the answer is neither, at least not permanently. he takes the mark on his chest. ]
It is the origin of this. The Netherese Orb. It ... consumes magic. I was very lucky I was not outright killed in that moment, and likely only survived because of my status as an Archmage with a deep enough well of magic to satisfy the initial blast. First it consumed my magic, and then began the work of consuming my very spirit. Endlessly. It cannot be sated, never entirely, and for long months I couldn't cast a cantrip, let alone get out of bed for more than few minutes of exhausted movement. Mystra had abandoned as my punishment, only silence in response to prayers and to beseechment.
Eventually I found the temporary treatment - or Tara did, I suppose. The "consumption" of magical items. I could absorb the Weave from an object infused with a powerful enough magical source and it would alleviate the symptoms. I could call upon my magic again. Certainly not to the level I was accustomed to, but ... enough.
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[ Gale just seems too much of a nerd for that. ]
...
[ It sounds like a disease, honestly. And an existence where Gale has to parasitise to reach his former self. ]
How do you plan to resolve this? Is it something that can be cured?
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...Right, sure. Get all the busywork cleaned up so you can focus on the big thing on the horizon...
Your hunt for that going well enough?