"No, no, no touching. I know." He finds a box of half-used candles - they're all black and red for some reason, but suspicious sniffing suggests the wax is just dyed. Felix sets eight of them out around the sword, then kneels and gets to work with the charcoal. Despite his unfamiliar surroundings, his hand is sure and quick as he marks daedric symbols and ward lines out inside the circle, correcting any that his robes smudge. This isn't the first time he's set up a ritual in a hurry.
When he finishes the runeblades are at the center of a small array of markings. Looked at right, the way they line out puts the eight candles at the points of an outlined star. Felix surveys it all for a minute, then turns his mind to the atronach. It glides around and lights each candle in turn for him, apparently heedless of Harrow's feelings about its proximity. At last it settles in its own spot within the circle, waiting patiently.
Felix pulls his hood up and lifts his hands, anchoring familiar wards onto the foundation of the atronach and summoning circle. It's a pared-down version of the set he used at their last meeting: binding the blades not to harm the caster, not to leave the circle, not to try going off on some sort of rampage. Maybe he puts more of his own will behind it this time. He's been practicing. At last he pauses to try and clear his mind, focus himself for the important - and dangerous - part of all this. Invoking the god of wisdom seems pointless in this foreign realm. He murmurs a few Altmeris words to Magnus instead - Lord of the arcane, fount of all power, guide my will, give me strength...
"The wards are holding," he says quietly, eyes on the blades. "I'm going to try examining them without... making direct contact, this time." Beneath the hood his eyes shift to Harrow. "Without sending you into a trance."
Part of him is keen to try. He's sure he can do it the way he intends this time. With Harrow's assent, he'll step into the circle himself, mind reaching out to examine the magic that binds these blades. He knows they're watching. He can feel their presence in his wards, all that lethal power just... waiting.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-07-06 04:03 pm (UTC)When he finishes the runeblades are at the center of a small array of markings. Looked at right, the way they line out puts the eight candles at the points of an outlined star. Felix surveys it all for a minute, then turns his mind to the atronach. It glides around and lights each candle in turn for him, apparently heedless of Harrow's feelings about its proximity. At last it settles in its own spot within the circle, waiting patiently.
Felix pulls his hood up and lifts his hands, anchoring familiar wards onto the foundation of the atronach and summoning circle. It's a pared-down version of the set he used at their last meeting: binding the blades not to harm the caster, not to leave the circle, not to try going off on some sort of rampage. Maybe he puts more of his own will behind it this time. He's been practicing. At last he pauses to try and clear his mind, focus himself for the important - and dangerous - part of all this. Invoking the god of wisdom seems pointless in this foreign realm. He murmurs a few Altmeris words to Magnus instead - Lord of the arcane, fount of all power, guide my will, give me strength...
"The wards are holding," he says quietly, eyes on the blades. "I'm going to try examining them without... making direct contact, this time." Beneath the hood his eyes shift to Harrow. "Without sending you into a trance."
Part of him is keen to try. He's sure he can do it the way he intends this time. With Harrow's assent, he'll step into the circle himself, mind reaching out to examine the magic that binds these blades. He knows they're watching. He can feel their presence in his wards, all that lethal power just... waiting.