Sybil Whitewood

original artwork from artstation.com/artwork/03WXZK

Wizard, Chronurgy (15)

Sybil works for **Atticious Emberheart**, an affluent elven artificer working for the Merchant's guild. Atticus oversees the creation of many of Luracia's more potent magical item exports, as well as their selling, renting or leasing. Of course, Luracia could easily be blamed and penalized by judicial systems for doling out magical goods to those who would seek to abuse their power, so contracts regarding their use are drawn up for each transaction. A few who break contract might be willing to part with the item and pay a fee, but far too many, when asked nicely to give up the magic items, aren't in the business of genuinely cooperating or giving up power. The items need to be reclaimed, but doing so is dangerous. That's where Sybil comes in.

Born to a captain among the red mages, Sybil Whitewood had early aspirations to follow in her father's footsteps. She learned first martial prowess and then magical, but the rigidity of any military organization, even the red mages, was too strict for her liking.

Then she dun got hired by Mr. Emberheart to do recon stuff, don't worry bout it.

She's not a loner, but she resents authority that undervalues its subordinates, and that manifests as being somewhat aloof.

### Random story that I didn't finish

"Sir." Sybil's voice cut through clamor of artisans working their craft and mages chanting to imbue their creations with power. The elven man she address looked up from the blueprints he had been pouring over and turned to meet her gaze. "Rilia Graston has ample reason to be warding against divining. She is in violation of contract on six accounts. I have a full report."

Sybil extended an arm with several sheets of rolled parchment, which the man took and unrolled. Briefly looking over them, the man turned back to his associates around the blueprints and gestured for the discussion to continue in his absence before fixing his attention back to the papers. He walked slowly alongside Sybil toward a quiet office room, but spoke up halfway there. "Six golems?"

Sybil nodded her head sideways in casual agreement. "Six golems."

"So she has help. And money. And plans by the look of it." He reached a hand down to turn an ornate doorknob, and Sybil closed the door behind them as they stepped away from the noise of the artificery lab. "Is all of this easy to prove?"

"Ms. Graston has ledgers detailing her expenses, and budgets for future expenses," Sybil answered, taking a relaxed stance that half obstructed the door behind her. "There's a total of 10 golems planned. Four are finished with 2 in process. And anyone can attest, they've already been used for political intimidation."

The man let out a swear in his native tongue, then a sigh as he turned to the second page. "Stupid people. Really, if you're so concerned with using Luracian goods to maintain a political station by force there are cheaper ways to do it."

"But a manual of golem creation can be rented temporarily and avoid suspicion from Luracia."

The elf laughed, reaching the end of the report. "No, it can't. It's one of the more closely watched rentables."

"Perhaps if Ms. Graston had read her contract more thoroughly she may have realized that," Sybil said. "Well, sir? I'm ready to reclaim the tome. May I assume I'm authorized?"

"It's a gross breach of contract," he said, setting the parchment down on his desk. "I'll draw up the documentation, but yes, life is at risk. This warrants Rank IV reclamation, as well as destruction of the golems."

Sybil smiled and straightened up at those words. "Very good. Give me a sending and consider it done!" Seeing the man's eyebrow arch, she gestured vaguely behind herself while her other hand reached for the doorknob. "Like I said. I'm ready to reclaim the tome. The real me. Simulacrum me is going home."

"You're authorized for reclamation, Sybil. Rank IV. Please confirm."

Sybil's employer's voice popped into her head, clear as if he was standing beside her. That was fast, which means her report was concise. Rank IV was good. The tome, and by extension the golems, were to be recovered or destroyed, with lethal force being authorized if opposition is met. Sybil kept her voice down for her reply. The hemisphere surrounding her, or Tiny Hut, kept anything out, but did nothing to prevent things leaving; even sound. "Copy that, sir. You'll have your tome back shortly."

A short enchantment was muttered under her breath. As she finished the area around her, inside and outside of the manor she was camped outside of, sprung with hazy, translucent colors. Dimly all around her a soft cyan glow was an abjuration, private sanctum, warding off a number of important magical abilities; no divination sensors could be created, and nothing could be targeted by divination either. To Sybil's frustration, the area was also warded against common teleportation, though she was able to send her simulacrum back to Luracia via inter-dimensional means, so not all mobility options were out of the question. Thankfully, detect magic used Sybil's own eyes for divination, and the wards couldn't prevent that.

The windows of the mansion glowed heavily with the cyan color. The Alarm spell was all too common in Luracia, so the sight was far from unexpected. Still, the cost of dismissing such a ward far outweighed the cost to create it. Sybil pointed an arcane staff at the window and chanted another spell, instantly dissipating the magical glow.

One final step before entering the premises. She chanted again, harnessing the energy of the weave and just as the magic was about to make itself manifest the energy collapsed, sending a small ripple of invisible energy through the air. The spell lay in her hand, its power ready to burst at any moment, a tiny glowing bead of energy that was the spell's manifestation, frozen in time at the instant of casting. She reached out in her mind to her closest ally. "Here we go, pebbles. You know what to do."

Out from her sleeve crept out a green, slithering shape that snatched up the bead in its wedge-shaped mouth, and looked up at Sybil. The voice of her familiar was small, and the words trailed together softly and slowly like sand through an hourglass. "Please be quick. I hate holding onto this."

The snake retreated back into Sybil's sleeve and she crept up to a closed window. With a word, on the other side of the glass a spectral hand flickered into being and flipped the latch on the window's inside. Carefully, Sybil gave the pane a heft, lifted it silently up, and crept inside. The room inside was pitch dark, but Sybil's eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly. Her closest elven relative was distant, but thankfully keen eyesight was a trait strong enough to pass down to her generation.

This chamber was a make-shift workshop. Giant stone slabs stood around the room, chiseled into various states of completeness, and high against the wall a tarp was hung, covered with magic sigils and instructions. Of course, this Ms. Graston had to write instructions on the wall rather than projecting the book's pages. If an untrained mind read directly from the book without adequate magical protection the results could be lethal. And beneath the tarp stood a lectern, empty, where the woman certainly would pour over the manual while she wrote out the instructions. But where was the book itself?

Another glow of cyan shone beneath the crack of the door that led into the next room, but otherwise there was no sign of magic. Sybil peered under the door and again chanted the spell, and this glow likewise faded into nothingness. Before opening the door, she raised a fist to her lips and whispered "show me." On her finger a ring, otherwise plain, opened up revealing an eye. A jolt of shock coursed through her body and caused her to wince as the ring's eye telepathically grafted itself to her mind, but it was a sensation she had grown accustomed to. When she opened her eyes again, the door, the walls, the floor, and even she herself all appeared translucent and insubstantial. The nearby stone slabs were too thick to be penetrated by the magical sight, and the lead foil in her breast pocket likewise was immune to the effect, but all else was visible, and nothing was behind the door.

Sybil pulled the door in, slowly and silently, and peered out. This was the main hall, and flaking the front entrance stood 2 giants, motionless, their thick limbs etched with arcane symbols. The stone sentries had full view of the entryway despite the darkness, and their motionless stare failed to convey how acutely aware of the surrounding area they must be. Golems are resistant to many things, but perhaps most impressive is their immunity to boredom. There is no waiting for the right moment to make a dash; the golem's gaze would not waver without cause, and it was too early to risk a distraction that could set off a cry of alarm.

After retreating back into the work room, the vision of magical auras vanished as Sybil again chanted a spell. Her body, transparent in the effects of the x-ray ring, now completely disappeared from view, and she stepped into the main hall. It was far more difficult to search for the tome without the magical auras appearing around her, but this would have to do. Silently, Sybil made a dash across the wooden floor to the door at it's end and achingly slowly began to creep it open. She couldn't afford to waste time, but if the door's opening was slow enough to not warrant notice by the golems she could slip through in plain sight. It was a terrifyingly dull 10 minutes, but at last the door was around halfway opened and Sybil slipped in.

The vision from the ring had shut off early on, but she raised it to her lips again and whispered "show me." Again a jolt of pain shot through her body, but she winced and looked around, once more with clear view of the rooms around her. Surely enough, there above her in the ceiling lay the tome, tucked neatly into the corner under the bed above her head. And barely visible through the thick wooden floor and fluffy bed lay Ms. Graston, fast asleep.

Without sound or movement her body faded back into view, and with it the colors of magical auras around her came back into focus. It was too risky to cast spells verbally when she was so close to her target. As expected, there was another cyan aura surrounding the target and encompassing the whole room. Again, without a word or gesture she cast another spell and the alarm spell dissipated as if it had never been cast. She couldn't risk enunciating another spell, so until the book was reclaimed she couldn't rely on spellcasting.

She only made one more audible noise, removing a porcelain container from her breast pocket and cracking it in half. The inside was lined with a metal coating that was soft but not pliable , and she took out from it a folded black cloth and placed the broken vessel back into her pocket. Cloth in hand, Sybil continued.

The stairs were silent as she made her way up to the bedroom, void of its previous ward. The lock was easy enough to pick, and slipping inside she saw the full room. Magical auras shone from various desk drawers, off of a coat draped across the dresser, and rolled into scrolls haphazardly laid on the bookshelf. The temptation was there to simply grab them all, and on other missions, in other circumstances, it would be a wise decision. But Rilia Graston had some political sway. It was one thing to strip a necromancer or assassin for hire of all their magical baubles, but anyone who could file a legitimate complaint that could sour dealings with Luracia was off limits.

Sybil held the cloth by one edge and let it unravel. As it fell into its natural shape the cloth took on a rubbery texture, noticeably black as the void even in the darkness of the unlit room. She placed a tip of the circle onto the floor where it adhered, and stretched it across the floor to form a large diameter. As it finished stretching the insides came into focus. The circle was now a hole in the floor, 6 feet wide and 10 feet deep. It contained several useful items such as iron poles, a sleeping bag and pillow, bags of caltrops, and a small treasure trove: diamonds, rubies, gold, and an ornate standing coffin locked from the inside.

Quickly and quietly one more treasure was added to the little room as Sybil scooped up the manual of golems from under the bed and let it fall onto the pillow. She scoured the desk briefly, snatching up the ledgers and accounting notes and dropping them in after. As quickly as the portable hole had opened it was gone, reforming a rubbery black circle as it was pried off the ground and becoming a thin satin cloth again as Sybil folded it up and placed it back into her pocket.

Now to kill the golems. All gains from Ms. Graston's broken contract were to be destroyed. But only 2 had been seen so far. It couldn't be easy to hide the other 2 giant stone golems. Were they still inside the manor, or had they been deployed somewhere? If it was discovered the manual was gone, who knows what the others would be used for? Oh well. First thing's first. The sentries by the door needed to go.

There was less need for stealth now. Invisibility would be a waste, as the golems needed to be destroyed swiftly and silently. A coup de grace was hardly possible against a 5 ton stone man.

Sybil swung the door to the main hall open and immediately stretched out her staff, calling out the activation words. If the golems had some alarm they could set off, she would never know as they were encompassed in a transparent, glistening hemisphere of force. "Get 'em Pebble." The little snake poked it's head out, but didn't leave Sybil's sleeve. Biting down on the bead of energy Pebble released the held spell inside the wall of force, and a sickly green light filled the hemisphere. It wasn't bright, but it illuminated the dark room with a soft glow as the golems silently hammered heavy fists in a futile attempt to break free. Slowly the stone inside started to grow brittle and crumble as decades worth of damage took its toll over the course of only a few minutes, and soon there was nothing left but a pile of broken, crumbling rock and dust.

"This is why I hate having that stuck in my mouth," Pebble whispered.

Sybil smiled and pointed at the ruined sentries. "That, my little fried, is why I make you do it." Then again she held the ring up and whispered "show me." Wincing from the pain, Sybil looked around, hoping there was some clue about the other two golem's whereabouts. Nothing. The doors were too small to facilitate transport, anywhere other than between the workshop, the main hall, and the outside. She slowly crossed the floor, looking for scuffs in the wooden boards hoping to find some clue where they were taken. And then, directly beneath her feet, through the floorboards, Sybil saw something just in time. The stone foundation opened its eyes.

Sybil made a quick dash and narrowly escaped as the two missing golems, buried in stone and dirt beneath the floor, broke up and emerged in a cloud of dust and the roar of splintering wood. The golems had been meticulously buried, the floor boards magically mended, but now the trap was sprung and any pretense of stealth was gone. Sybil cursed herself, not for springing the trap, but for not swiping the magical items from the bedroom when she had the chance. The golems could be dealt with again, though it would be slow. But the mage would be a problem.