The cost of the Permit varies depending upon the schools of magic you employ and the position you hold within the Guild.
Apprentices do not pay Guild fees, however, upon becoming a Guild Mage (OOC: 5th character level and above), a wizard will be expected to pay a monthly fee. There are benefits also in becoming a Guild Mage that will become apparent when you gain the position, however, which will offset the cost of continued membership.
The current master of the tower is Amarin, an elf. Despite his efforts at reform, several of the elder wizards continue to resist non-human presence within these walls, making the life of the non-human apprentice as difficult as possible.
=================================================
NB: A character of any race can buy a Casting Permit, but unless you find a willing PC (level 10+) or NPC Mage to teach you the Arts of Magic you will not be able to advance in the Wizard class.
Your first apprentice permit (spell levels 0 to 2) is free. However, if you lose it, you must pay to replace it.
The fee for your intermediate license (levels 3-5) is 10 gp, multiplied by the highest spell level you can cast, per year. So for a 5th level wizard, the fee is 30 gp per year, while for a 12th level sorcerer, it is 60 gp per year. The rate is doubled for those who employ spells liable to cause substantial damage to property, particularly evocation spells. Half of that additional fee will be forwarded to cover the cost of the next year's licence if the wizard or sorcerer does not cause any damages.
Naturally, a wizard who causes damages is still liable for the full cost of said damages, even if in possession of a paid-up license.
For an advanced license (levels 6-9), casters will be required to donate 1000 gp, mulitplied by highest spell level available, per year, whether in coin or in magic items. Note that the mages' guild will decide whether or not certain magic items are acceptible donations.
[The (1) in the thread title represents that it is the first Hightower thread to appear on the new boards. For a view of the previous thread, click here.]
He speaks quickly
"I've been very fortunate this year, in that I have acquired several bright and inquisitive students. I- I've been unfortunate as well, in- in the sense that they don't appear to have a highly developed sense of self-preservation. Two of them are off fighting orcs right now..."
He shakes his head.
"...and then there is you."
"I don't know how you do it, exactly. You can recite the proper safety precautions for any alchemical verbatim - you appear to have a better memory for them than I do, in fact. At least, that is how it appears in the classroom. In the laboratory, you are so focused on what you can do that you forget what else you can do - lose a hand, lose a sense, wind up prematurely bald-"
Cione self-consciously runs his fingers through his own hair as he says this.
"I'm concerned - yes, concerned! - with what you could do with some of the more powerful evocations as well. I suspect that your previous teacher shared this concern, because he appears to have avoided the subject altogether with you."
He pauses, leaning foreward to hold his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead. Then he looks up at Kieran again.
"I don't think... that was a good idea. You may need to study such spells and practice them - in controlled situations, of course - to get a proper appreciation for what they can do.
"And-and-and by practice, I don't mean when the urge strikes you! Recently, you came to understand the spell that lets you project flames from your fingertips."
There is a barely noticeable rise in Cione's voice - a small squeak - as he says the word "flames." It is quite possible that Kieran misses it entirely. Cione would certainly hope so.
"You are to report to one of the training rooms no less than twice a week to experiment with the spell. Test its effects on various substances. Make a note of its limits. Note the degree of control you have, and the degree of control you acquire. Learn exactly how far away a sheet of paper must be from where you aim in order for it to survive the spell. Try it with three sheets, and determine precisely the spacing it will require to burn only the one in the middle.
"There is.... one more thing I would like you to start on this week as well. Reviewing your spellbook, I see that you have been taught the importance of the divinations, which is good. I'd like for you to expand on that study, to review non-magical methods for divining the future. You will find material on several forms within the library, of course, and I encourage you to read up on those. However, this isn't a literacy test-"
He gives a weak smile, as one who hopes that his last sentence was amusing, but suspects that it probably wasn't.
"I want you to go into detail in examining means on your own. Test them out. Look for variations. See if you can't find the reasons why people clung to such methods, and if any of them had any validity to them. Surely no pyromancers was impressed with being able to read in a bonfire that his house was about to burn down!"
Cione chuckles, then catches himself, and looks embarrassed.
"That will be your afternoon assignment. You will still be performing chores in the morning, followed by two hours of lessons before lunch. The evenings are yours, so long as you meet the required spell practice sessions as well.
"Oh, and don't forget to keep logs for both of these assignments! I'll be checking. And... er, was there anything else we should discuss, Kieran?"
He seems a bit uneasy asking this question, as though he feels he is somehow rude to inquire.
*speaks after Cione is finished*
No sir. Nothing I can think of sir. Thank you, Master Cione. I will get started on this right away.
*stands up and leaves after being excused*
*walks out into the hallway*
*pauses for a moment and thinks*
*pulls out a tablet and writes notes on his assignment before he forgets*
.o0(wonder where the kitchin is in this place...?)
*Walks around the corridors in search for someone to guide him (or some food). while pondering what he'll eat A'mok bumps into a clerck of his duty and on his way to sleep*
A: Hello... could you please direct me to the kitchin, or dining hall...? please? :D ~hungry look~
C: oh! what?... oh... yeah sure, just go that a way... ~sleepy look~
A: thank you dear sir...
*A'mok heads to the kitchin*
Hmm... seems to be empty... better make myself something to eat...
*Takes out a loaf of bread, cuts it open, starts filling it with all the goods he can see, closes it and takes it with him to the garden*
.o0(not a better place to eat in this whole tower...
*feasts*
Only one incident occurs when Dwem, a fellow student, comes to fetch Keiran for dinner. As he walks into the room and calls Keiran's name, Keiran turns, almost seering Dwem with flame. Fortunately the boy had good reflexes and the sense to jump backwards out of the way.
Keiran was very embarrased and very apologetic. No further incidents were had, as no one would dare venture near the room where Keiran was practicing after that unless they had a protection charm or spell with them.
The journal he was using to keep track of the limits and tolerances of the spell however wasn't as fortunate os Dwem, and had to be replaced.
Twice.
Yes. Paper burns. Paper burns quite well in fact.
He spent his time in the library, and since the mages use magic, little study has been spent investigating other means of divining the future. Whatever references he found were usually in the form of passing comments or references in texts about ancient cultures.
After a while he realized if he was to fulfill his assignment he might have to go outside the Tower for his study.
*shuts a book*
*grumbles to himself*
This is silly. Why would anyone want to know the future? if you know a future event is going to happen, then there's nothing you can do about it. You've seen it; it's going to happen. It's useless knowlege!
*sighs* and nonmagical means?! there's no such way! All that I've read so far infers one form of magic or another... the stuff that isn't magic would be simply superstition based on past luck, probability and knowlege.
My father can predict the weather without magic, simply because he knows the signs from past experience...
perhaps I'm missing something...
and with that Keiran retired for the day
*Tynk enters the tower and sets striaght to business, checking with the clerk for an appointment with Master Cione.*
.oO(Tonight? He is usually so busy...)
*He goes to his room and uses the two-hours he has to put his belongings away and grab a fresh set of clothing on his way to a bath.*
*Fully enjoying the refreshing feeling of being clean, he sets down back in his room and draws up a letter. Once finished he heads to his meeting.*
*A knock on Cione's door is replied with the elder-mages greeting tinged with annoyance.*
Cione: "Ah er, Tynk is it? Yes, w-well, sit-down."
"Master Cione, I hope all is well."
Cione: "Dandy, just dandy. *sarcasm* How did your expedition with danger come? I see you are still intact luckily enough."
"You can say that. I have learned, which we both can agree is important."
Cione: "Do tell..."
"Aside from what combat has taught me, there are forces out there that can rival anything one could comprehend without witnessing."
Cione: "Go on..."
"Had I not kept myself safe from the enemy during battle I would have fallen. Had I been viewed as a greater threat by the enemy I would not have been safe. I had thought my martial training to be advantatious, but was sourly proved wrong in the face of such a powerful enemy."
*Cione thinks for a moment, as if not sure what to say in response.*
Cione: "L-learning when to duck is not as powerful as avoidance of such situations. We..I am concerned that you are making the choices to be present in such dangerous circumstances. You are still young, Tynk.
"Yes sir."
Cione: "Well?"
"Master Cione, my concern lies with my friends. I am not there to 'kill orcs' or any 'grand adventure'. I will not sign up for the next dangerous situation that comes my way. But I cannot let those whom I truly consider friends of the highest degree to go into danger when I know I can help make a difference in their chances to survive."
*Cione shakes his head and mumbles something about 'a youths dream of heroism'.*
Cione: "I want a full report by tommorow morning after chores, you have enough time to draw one up tonight it seems. Also, you are behind on studies and need to catch up, so I want you to focus on that."
"Indeed."
*Tynk takes a rolled parchment from his scrollcase freshly-sealed with his signant...A simple tear with a small bloomed flower inside it. He places it on the desk.*
"That is a full report and what I have learned, as well as what I will be studying in the future."
Cione: "Have you decided on your next spells you will learn?"
"I have. I wish to take my studies a step up to a higher degree, and am prepared to purchase the license to cast them. The spells are Major Illusion and Clairaudience/Clairvoyance."
Cione: "You seems to have much interest in Illusions and Transmutations, but no evocations or necromancy spells are in your spellbook. Why do you shun these studies?"
"They leave a bad taste in my mouth, sir."
Cione: "..."
"Is there anything else master?"
Cione: "N-no. Keep up with your studies and keep notes of your progress, I will want to review them."
"Very well."
*Tynk gets up and bows slightly to the elder, then makes his way to his room. He immediately begins refreshing his memory where he left off with those two spells and begins writing them in his spellbook, fully engrossed in his work.*
The letter Tynk gives Master Cione reads...
=======================================
Apprentice-Mage Tynk Waverstone's recount of a defended pass...[(dated and pass named)].
*[Basic details of who was attending and what each faction of the main army was to accomplish. A full description of the troll is included, as well as the details of the pass we were defending.]*
It is our belief the she-demon troll is a worshipper of the dark god Kakodemmion, and her feirceness in battle was horrific. She used many tactics to her advantage and nearly routed us with ease. We held the pass until news arrived on what happened to the main faction.
*[Tynk writes on about the Dragons and routing of the main army, and of their escape...not mentioning Moncha's.]*
We were lucky to come back alive, and I myself had the fear that I would not make it back. I have learned some of the useful and useless effects spells can have under certain situations, but more importantly I have learned the value of spells that are not in my possesion.
=======================================
The last sheet of paper is seperate from the report, geared twards Tynks developement in his studies. It reads...
=======================================
It is my belief that with enough concentration, one can be moble in combat while casting a spell. Certain combat maneuvers based on the various strikes that can be delivered can be 'fit-in' to the casting of a spell, without disrupting a spell if one can keep his or her concentration as such.
This involves increased focus of the mind and perfect awareness of the individual spell the caster would cast. Also, defensive training maneuvers is essential, as the caster will have to understand the nature of the strikes and how to avoid them. Farfetched, but learnable and teachable.
I have been successful on occasion, and with increased practice I should be able to give a "sparring performance" of the results. In fact I look forward to this, if I may be so bold. The material and somatic components are harder to work in than the verbal ones, but I believe I am developing a system.
It is my belief that these techniques can be used by those mages who may choose to endager themselves to help keep them alive.
My future studies include the creation of miscelaneous magical items and further studies on alchemy and engineering. The last two studies are comming along well and I enjoy the practice of them. I believe I am prepared to make my first magical item, and am gathering the funds to do so.
I extend my best wishes to those of the Tower, and look forward to sharing my studies. As always my services are at it's disposal should they be needed.
(signed) ~Tynk Waverstone, Apprentice.
It starts with a strange creature, small and lizard-like with a bullet head and standing on it's hind legs. It's dull-grey belly blends to a dark-blue back, with rivits of gray through it extending from the underside, giving a slightly striped design. The lizard sports two horns bent backwards and a pointed tail...it's end shaped like an arrow-head.
The creature bends down to feast on a small prey of...rabbit? As it eats it perks up now and then to watch for danger. A noise from a near bush draws it's attention and it bolts, and following it is a large wolf...it's muzzle dripping with the saliva that comes with hunger and seeking a meal.
With great speed and dexterity, the small lizard leaps across the swampy forest, jumping on rocks to cross a stream. The wolf splashes through the stream just behind it, barely gaining on the amazingly fast lizard.
The lizard lets out a noise, and there is a slight flash between the horns...electrictiy connecting making a sound...
T-kish!...like a slapstick struck hard. A smaller sound from the forest answers in the distance to the lizard's right, and it immediately bounds twards it. This causes the wolf to stumble as it tries to match the change of direction.
The wolf is quick to recover and is not about to loose it's meal. Following swiftly she sniffs the ground quickly now and then to stay on it's trail. Another shock sounds-off and immediately the wolf bounds after.
The wolf has an evil feel to it, as if praying more out of sport than need.
With a jump the wolf flies over a large bush into a clearing and stops, sniffing the air and perking it's ears. T-kish! She growls and backs a step, hair on it's back completely raised defensively.
T-kish!! From above, then left. The wolf backs up further, still growlng and druel flowing freely.
T-kish! T-kish ^kish-kish^ T-kish!
All over now, the sounds draw nearer, and through the dark the wolf makes out the many flashes, slowly cornering the wolf to the massive large bush behind her. Small lizards like the one she chased appear out of the shadows and sway back and forth like a snake being charmed. One drops from a tree to land a few feet in front of her. This one is slightly bigger and looks to be an "alpha".
The sounds break from there random patter to slowly become more uniformed and together. The wolf turns and gets an electrical shock from a waiting lizard behind her in the bush. The sounds now make an instant ZzZzZzZ-KISH!, and slow down in intervals between bursts.
Finally, the hairs on the wolve's back raise further as a great electrical current is felt building fast, and Finally a great-flash and T-KISH!!!, followed by a yelp.
*Tynk wakes with a startle, the hairs on his body moving and light bursting in his eyes utterly blinding him in the dark. His heart is pounding.*
.oO(What was that!!)
*The feeling passes swiftly and he settles back into bed to ponder this a while befor falling back asleep.*
.oO(That was no normal dream...Too...real...??)
*Once finished he goes to the clerk to drop the letter off.*
Clerk: "Tynk, you are back safetly I see."
"Indded, though not un-touched. Being in the company of a cleric is adventatious." Winks.
Clerk: "I see. Do you need something this morning."
"Yes, could you hand this letter to master Cione for me? That is all."
Clerk: "Very well, have a productive day."
"You as well."
*He exits the hightower.*
Letter reads...
=======================================
Master Cione,
I am prepared for a demonstration of the techniques I have learned to cast spells defensively. I will need a partner for this endevour, someone who can provide minor skill striking with a wooden sword as I defend myself and cast the spell.
My gratitude for your consideration on the matter.
~Tynk Waverstone, Apprentice
=======================================
To Natala's Mystic Store
*Shuffles in and up the stairs with a casual wave to the clerck. He makes his way to the library to catch up on his studies.*
*Some hours later, he heads off to his room to sleep after a quick meal, preparing to wake early in order to get things done.*
Early Morning...
*Wakes to meditate, stretch, studying his spells, chores, breakfast, a bath, and catch up on his studies.*
*It is almost afternoon before he sets off for a day of work at Natala's.*
To Natala's
In the morning he speak with Master Cione about his project and gets permission to miss a few days lessons to embark on a research project, but is sternly reminded to NOT practice his more... damaging spells outside of the Tower.
He thanks Master Cione and returns to the Iron Wolf to pick up his dagger.
*walks through the streets to the tower*
*once they step inside, she takes the papers out and makes sure she has one page of each copy*
*to the clerk*
Excuse me. Would Mirielle happen to be here?? I would like to speak with her.
*Miri finishes writing up her impressions of the foray against the orcs, including detailed descriptions of Lord Malifaeyr and his spellcasting techniques*
.oO(That troll-creature, what exactly was it? I must have it, I must study it! But how?)
*she rolls the notes and ties them with a ribbon, then with Ixchal on her shoulder walks to the Hightower, leaving the report for Master Cione to peruse at his leisure*
Today
*returns to the Hightower, where she begins study of the creature Darkar collected for her*
*some time later, is approached by an apprentice*
"Miss Dyer? There's an elf asking for you in the lobby."
Oh? Very well, I'll be right down.
*washes thoroughly and goes downstairs*
Oh, NaShae, Kywyn! Hello!
*looks around*
Where is Dakarai?
Greetings, Mirielle.
*a small frown crosses her face and she reaches out to take Kywyn's hand for a moment*
He's not here. My parents are watching him until we can find a danger that threatens him here. Unfortunately, a divination told about the danger and it was very unspecific.
I have a question to ask of you, though. My mother was working on a spell and something happened. Because of this, she's grown sick and weak, growing old before her time.
*lets go of Kywyn's hand to show her the papers*
Before I left, I convinced her to let me copy her notes. I was hoping that you would take a look at them to see if you can find why this happened. And possibly how to fix this.
A threat? I mean, another threat?
*she shakes her head*
.oO(As though the poor child was born under a cloud...)
Have you spoken to Natala about this? Perhaps her divinations could get you better information.
*she glances down, as though only now noticing the papers*
Of course I'll look these over. Did you get the impression her condition was actually worsening, or is she as bad as she's going to get?
We had planned to ask her, but she is busy with Hermy right now. And that matter is more pressing.
*shakes her head*
I was only there a few days. And I know she has good ones and bad. But I don't know if she is getting worse.
*sighs*
It was bad enough to have my father worried, though.
Your father must be horribly worried...
I'll read through these and if I have any questions I'll find you. It could take several weeks, though, to find a solution.
I'm sorry...
*looks at NaShae and Kywyn with an expression of deepest concern*
If you think of anything at all that seemed ...unusual... while you were there, please let me know.
Thank you.
*shakes her head*
The only thing unusual that I noticed was that my mother wasn't feeling well enough to research.
*hugs her*
Oh. Do you know where to find us?? We're not at the inn anymore.
*gives her the address*
I'm not sure how much we'll be home. With Alissa's death and the threat to Dakarai....
*sighs softly*
Is there anything I can do for your help?? We'd offer to pay for your time, but I think most of our money is going to Hermy for him to decide what he wants done with Alissa.
*she shrugs*
If I find I need to actually go to... where is your family? If I need to go there, I'd need to ask you to take me.
I was going to bring you the shell of the creature that killed Alissa, but when we got back to it, something had made a rock monument to it. Even if it is a creature, I didn't want to disturb a grave.
*smiles, glancing at Kywyn*
They live in Ennorath. It's about a week by horse to the southwest. Kywyn and I wanted to visit Dakarai after a few things are settled here. We'd be glad to take you along with us. And Gamis, as well, if he wishes.
Of course you'll be going there frequently, I imagine, to see Dakarai.
It may be completely unnecessary for me to go to Ennorath, I don't know, of course. But it's possible.
Well, I'd best get busy. I'm dissecting a creature Darkar brought me, and researching a new spell, and now this.
*chuckles*
Never boring...
*she waves to them and heads back up the stairs, Ixchal scampering alongside*
*takes Kywyn's hand and turns to look at him*
*staring into his dark eyes, she smiles softly*
.oO(Should we go bring this to the others now? Or would you like to get the items sold? We can always drop this off after dark.)
*leans up and kisses him, then walks out of the Tower*
*yawns while washing up*
.oO(What an amazing sequence of events... the fiasco in the pass, now Dakarai... hm, I'd better stop in the Market on my way home.)
*takes the notes and leaves the Tower*
to the Market Square
*In the afternoon he is in his room with a piece of paper and pen-quil drawing up a design.*
.oO(Dragons...they are quite a problem. We had better prepare what we can.)
Scribble, scribble...
*He works dilegently, taking notes and working mathmatical equasions for tregectory, mobilty, and compression.*
Burleg, Tensek and the ever faithful Hodge approach the Hightower. Robed men and women, and other humanoids of various races, go to and fro from the tower and it's park. Burleg looks around with a suspicous eye, before whispering to Tensek:
"..Now, like I said, we can't really trust these folk, cept fer good payment. They all have more gold than they know what to do with.. watch yer tongue, and take everything you hear with a grain of salt.. I'll do the talkin, they'll pull no wool o'er this dwarf's eyes.."
With that Burleg and co. enter the Tower. If there is a posted area they look it over thoroughly, if not, they await assitance.
"Um...excuse me, is Mrs. Mirielle in?"
Desk Clerk: "No, I'm sorry. She's at home right now."
"OK, thank you."
*Aric smiles, and then leaves the Hightower*
A dwarf and a half-orc walk into the Hightower...
(Somebody tell me this is a joke)Oo. thinks the clerk, watching them approach, before saying, dubiously, "Can I help you?"
The dwarf smiles cheerily.
"The young lady would like a spellcasting license, please."
Said young lady squints at the young man behind the counter, conveying through gaze alone something along the lines of "What's your deal?"
The clerk drops his quill.
"You're kidding, right?"
"No, sir!" :D
"But... she's... she's... an orc!"
"I believe she's part-human as well, sir, for what little it matters. She still needs a license."
Sensandela tosses her hair and smirks.
"Yes, I do! What, maybe you'd prefer I go around practicing magic unlawfully? No, thank you. Mr. Karaokeov-im-a-fancy-wizard himself... thought me skillful enough to require a license."
In low tones, she asks the dwarf, "[Dwarven]I believe he must be part-silly in the head. What a little...[/dwarven]" She bites her lip and simply glowers at the clerk, sending telepathic death threats to his "silly" brain.
Gerug chuckles.
"Take pity on the poor man. I understand that until recently only humans were allowed to practice magic here, and he's had to adapt. I wonder if they accept applications from dwarves?"
The poor clerk's eyebrows threaten to roll back over the top of his head at this. He looks back and forth between the guardsman and the waif, finally settling on the taller of the two and addressing her.
"Miss, I- I'm sorry, but... er, that is..."
.oO(Take pity on him, eh? Oh, yes, let's all take pity on the racist, shall we?)
Her steady gaze on him narrows even as her mouth assumes a saccharine smile.
"Yeees? There wouldn't be a problem, would there?"
She smiles winningly.
"Surely a fine young man such as yourself wouldn't ever deny an honest dwarf and a lovely half-orc of that ideal called 'equal opportunity'? Mr. Dwarf," she says and glances at the guardsman, "you did say 'until recently,' only humans were allowed to practice? Does that not mean others may now do so as well?"
She gives the clerk a woeful, beseeching look.
"And I so wanted one of those" .oO(damned) "wonderful licenses, too."
She begins to sniffle and rubs at her teary eyes.
"NO!" the clerk shouts, alarmed, then "I mean, no, it's... well... could I please get a demonstration? For... the license, you see? I need to determine what category of license this is. The minor license is free, you see, but for more powerful magic, there is a charge. So, if you could just... show me what you can do?
"Without property or personal damage, that is," he adds hastily.
The sniffling fades into her hands.
.oO('No' what, you fool?)
She raises her head, fixing bleary reddened eyes on him. To emphasize, she gives a few more perfunctory sniffles and groans hoarsely, "Oh, very well. I will... try my best."
.oO(How much do his pants weigh? Could I yank them down? Or maybe I could startle the boy with--)
She raises her arm into the air above her head and slowly utters a few words.
"Pretty..." She flicks her wrist, splaying fingers wide.
"...Sparkling..." Light beads at her fingertips. Each point swells and glows brighter, balancing precariously upon its impeccable fingernail.
"...Dancers..." The balls float off one by one and twirl in the air above her head, faster and faster until they blur and become a blinding halo, and finally she shouts,
"...FLIGHT!" The halo instantly bursts, separating into four balls of light to each shoot past the clerk's ears.
The clerk blinks, then jots something down.
Sensandela lowers her hand and crosses her arms, squinting at him.
"[Dwarven] I wonder if I should still pull his pants dow--[/dwarven]" .oO(I wonder if he's wearing underwear??)
Flushing bright red, she grimaces and turns her gaze away from the young man.
"[Dwarven] Never mind,[/dwarven]" she mumbles.
The guardsman tries to keep a straight face. A slightly redder than normal straight face.
"I, ah, think this will suffice," he says to Sensandela, then to the clerk, "Don't you agree, sir?"
"Hmm?" says the clerk, as he continues to write. "Oh. Yes. Name for the license?"
The half-orc shakes her head, as if doing so could shake free the disturbing thought as well as the color from her face.
"Would, ah, 'Sensandela the Super Singing Sensation' be too long to fit on the paper?" she asks and chews lightly on her lip. "Maybe just 'Sensandela' will do, then. S-E-N-S-A-N-D-E-L-A-I-S-S-U-P-E-R--er, yes, that will do, thank you."
The clerk stops with "Sensandela."
"What other things can you do with your magic? This will have to be recorded for the license as well."
"Basically fodder for magic tricks--like telekinesis, ventriloquism, minor illusions, and such things."
The clerk drops his quill again.
"Te-telekinesis? W-what is your weight limit for this telekinesis, please?"
Sensandela blinks and tilts her head, studying him quizzically. "Your hands aren't very steady, are they?" she observes.
"Depending on the spell... either up to one pound or up to five pounds. Does that make you feel better, Mr. Clerk?"
He breathes a sigh of relief.
"Yes, thank you," he says. "That would have been a very expensive license. Your illusions... visual only? Sound? Temperature? Scents?"
"Visual only, though someday I might like to be able to incorporate all of those features, yep." The half-orc bounces from foot to foot. "Are we almost done yet?"
"Almost...there!"
The clerk sprinkles sand across the parchment, then rolls it to hand to Sensandela.
He then proceeds to drone a series of warnings and disclaimers. "This license does not permit you to cause wanton destruction, and you will be held accountable for damage you may cause with magic. You may also be helf liable for any injury or loss of life that may result from your spellcasting, whether by civil authorities, the powers governing this tower, or a union of the two. Other forms of abuse in the display of your talents may also result in the revocation of said license. If through practice or... fortuitous accident you should acquire new magical talents or knowledge, you are to report them here as soon as possible, so that we may update your records.
"Do you have any questions?"
The half-orc blinks at him, her mouth hanging slightly open. .oO(Yes: Is it by 'fortuitous accident' or by practice that one can sound that dull?)
Again she shakes her head to clear it. "I, uh, suppose 'other forms of abuse' would include pulling a stunt like--for example, theoretically of course--pulling down a cler--"
She slaps herself. "No, none!" she pipes cheerfully.
The dwarf raises an eyebrow and turns to one side. The clerk merely looks confused for a moment, then shrugs.
"Then that's settled, and you're free to go."
"Thank you, sir," says the dwarf.
"Well, lass, let's leave the wizards to their work and go get some sun again, shall we?" :D
Sensandela tucks the license underneath her belt and pivots on her heel. Her sunny grin is stunning, considering the amount of light glinting off her teeth..
"Roight you awe, Mista' Dworf! Let us be on awe merry way!"
She strides to the door and holds it open for the guardsman.
He nods graciously as he catches up with his rolling step.
"Thank you, Miss Sensandela. Most considerate of you." :D
"Oh, it's nothing, of course. All orcs are considerate!"
She preens. .oO(And smart and bootiful and most charming...)
"Oh, and thank you, dwarfie. That snotty wizard probably would've done something terrible and nasty to me. Hoho! He might've turned me into himself!" she crows. Paper rustles. She glances down suddenly at the license tucked snug against her waist. "And that [dwarven]silly[/dwarven] clerk probably wouldn't have given me this silly piece of paper either. So... thank you."
The dwarf snorts in amusement.
"Change - and the unexpected, can frighten people," he says, trying to sound wise and serious.
"Even wizards," he adds with a quick wink.
She laughs delightedly and follows him out. "I hope I scared the pants--I hope I scared them mightily!"
She skips a few paces, then turns to study him, tilting her head to the side.
"I haven't seen you in some time. How is your hungry horse?"
Gerug grimaces.
"Stubborn. Contrary. Heavy."
The half-orc suddenly ducks her head. Her long hair falls over her shoulders, veiling her face as she scuffles her feet in the dust.
"I suppose that now you will, uh, go home, hmm? Well, um, thank you again. I hope to talk to you again--oooh! Maybe if I get in trouble again, you'll come save my rear." She s****s, delighted with this idea.
"Thank you for an entertaining afternoon, miss," he says, before adding a "stern" warning.
"You be careful now."
And with that, he goes his way, heading... ah, but that's another tale.
*Heads out of the tower and to the western side of town.*
To SSAG
Non-magical means of divination of future events
A report commisioned by Master Cione of the Hightower
researched and written by Keiran Whitehall, Mage Aprentice of the Hightower.
Non magical means of divination are simply the result of observations of cause and effect, and applying probabilities to those observations.
If an individual repeats a behavior many times over, for example a person hangs their cloak in a particular manner, it can be predicted that the individual will continue to do so.
There are many ways in which people attempt to use non-magical items or events in attempts to divine what the God's intend the future to be. Some observe crow flights, some utilize specialized cards, others bones. From what I've learned, many of these methods, techniques or superstitions start out as a result of observation, and are amplified into ritual by imagination and tradition over generations.
Many practitioners of non-magical divination will use vagueries to describe future events that can be interpretted many ways, depending upon the subject. If a "fortune teller" were to say, "I see a new person coming into your life", that could be easily made true. Walk into a crowded market and that prediction comes true.
In summary, non-magical means of divination, other than experience and intuition, are unreliable predictors and this author recommends they not be used.
"It's very... concise," he says, in an effort at tact.
"Not that there is anything wrong with concise! No, we- we could benefit greatly from those who can say things without having to ramble on for... um... well, saying a lot in a few words is good. Let me see here.
"Mmm-hmm...
"Mmm-hmm...
"Very true..."
When he has finished reading, Cione looks up with a kind and uncomfortable expression on his face.
"Kieran... you've certainly made good points about general fortune telling. Very.... good points. You've mentioned the history of such techniques and noted the addition of ritual and the importance of keeping predictions safely vague.
However, there are no specifics, here. You dismiss everything from astrology to ydromancy without any reference to their specific origins, means of practice, or development. I... don't see the research. There are no references to materials or individuals you may have consulted to reach these conclusions. I also see no indication that you tested any of these methods personally.
"If I created a curtain of fire across the doorway, then told you that it wasn't real, and then dismissed you, would you simply take my word for it and leave? No, perhaps that's a poor example -- if Master Kotov started the blaze, would you simply take his word for it if he told you it was safe?
"I would hope not, Mr. Whitehall. Master Kotov believes that pain is a highly qualified instructor."
Cione puts the paper down and sighs.
"I had hoped you would examine matters in greater depth before jumping to conclusions. They are doubtless the correct conclusions -- you are a very bright young man and I am certain that you could have a promising future in wizardry.
"If you survive, that is. I hope that will be the case."
He sighs again.
"Even when they are performing a con, those who rely on superstitions as tools of divination are still keeping on eye to the future, Kieran. I want you to think about that before you next cast a spell. In fact, write this down and hang it across from your bunk: 'The future is visible to those with open eyes.'
"I want you to repeat that to yourself every morning when you get up, as well as every time you are about to practice a spell as part of your studies."
Striking the parchment gently with the back of his hand, he says, [color=coral]"Hopefully, you will understand how it relates to this task.
"That is all for now. You may leave."[/color]
As Kieran rises to depart, however, he adds one more thing, hesitantly.
"I may... have... I may have a task for you, later. I don't- maybe it's- maybe you could use some time out on the road. I- you're a good lad, Kieran. Let me see what I can arrange."
Then Cione turns scan his bookshelf, his conversation with the younger wizard apparently at an end.
*saunters out*
.o0(he didn't even ask how I came to write that paper, or give me a chance to rewrite it...
)*yawns and leans against a wall, blinking hard*
.o0(I am SO tired... I've been up for days. Time to get some sleep.)
*walks back to his bunk and crawls underneath the blanket, and imediately starts falling asleep*
*thinks just before passing out:*
.o0(did he say I get to go on the road?! :bounce: )
zzzZZZZZZZzzzzz......
"Miri-ah, there you are! I knew you'd be around here somewhere. I'm sorry to bother you while -- oh, my doesn't that look... interesting..."
Thank you Master Cione. I'm testing an infusion of leeches in bay leaf water for their efficacy in drawing out magically enhanced poison when combined with certain other ingredients.
She nods to a stack of notations.
"Hmm?" he says, "Oh! Yes, excuse me. We've had a request from the Metrexian -- the Metrecian? The Mother's Temple has asked the Hightower to provide assistance in dealing with a dragon, and--"
Dropping a leech on the floor, Mirielle leaps to her feet.
A dragon! Near here?
She grabs Cione by the shoulders.
What color? What color?!
"Red. Why, is that important?" Cione asks in confusion.
Not just important -- vital! I need that dragon!
Grabbing her bag and cloak, she dashes for the door.
"Wait! Wait!" he shouts, grabbing her arm before she is out the door.
"They aren't leaving until tomorrow morning! We have time to plan before then. One of their priests is-"
Who? One of them is going along? Do you know who? Not Clarice, I hope?
"No, I don't know which one, Cione admits. "They just asked for us to provide a wizard's touch."
Well, they'll have it. I'm going. I need that dragon!
Cione looks very skeptical about this idea.
"Why would I let you put yourself in danger like this?" he asks pointedly.
I survived the debacle in the mountains, didn't I? I've proven I can handle myself.
"But you're--"
Young, strong and competent. Thank you, Master Cione, I knew you had confidence in me.
"But I-"
And of course, as you've often said, experience is a most effective instructor.
"Well, yes, I did, but I didn't mean you..."
To take unnecessary risks? I assure you, I will only take necessary ones.
Cione frowns sadly and slumps into a chair.
"You're not going to be talked out of this," he states woodenly.
No, master.
"I could order you to remain here," Cione points out.
You could. But I wouldn't sit tamely. And it's not as though I'm inexperienced with such expeditions.
"No, you're probably right," he admits.
"Just... try not to get hurt?" he pleads.
I've no desire to be hurt or killed, Master Cione. I'm not impetuous or thoughtless. When are they expecting me?
"Three hours after the dawn. The temple will handle meals and other basic equipment, but the rest is up to you. I'd make sure my spell components were fresh."
Yes, Master Cione, I'll do that.
Impulsively hugging the elder mage, Miri turns and darts out towards the Mystic Store, mentally reviewing her needs.
Muttering to himself, Cione wanders off again, shaking his head.
*yawns and stretches*
.o0(wuttimeizzit?)
*looks about and notices it's quite dark and the other apprentices are fast asleep*
*slowly and somewhat painful slips out of his bunk, rubbing the crik in his kneck that has developed from sleeping in one position too long*
*pads down the hall to make a quick stop at the privie and then the washroom*
*proceeds to the kitchen to get some water to drink*
*turns the corner and bumps into a female apprentice (litterally), and knocks her over*
Keiran: "Kara! I'm so sorry! Let me help you up. Are you hurt?"
Kara: "it's may fault. I wasn't paying attention..."
Kara notices who it is she's talking to and blushes
Kara: "Keiran! It's you! I mean... I haven't seen you in a while... or smelled any smoke..." she giggles awkwardly and Keiran gets embarrased
Keiran: "I've been out around the city a lot, researching an assignment for Master Cione. It was... interesting..." he mumbles the next part "except for when those guys stole my clothes... "
Kara: "That sounds... wonderful. Listen... I uhm... couldn't sleep..." she blushes some more and bites the bottom of her lip. Her foot traces a circle in the floor "Uhmm.. do you maybe want to join me in library maybe? It might be fun... ;)
" She gets closer to Keiran and almost whispers those last 4 words.Keiran: *yawns* sorry. I'm too tired to study. I'm just going to get a drink of water and go back to bed. Goodnight, Kara. Good luck with your insomnia
" Keiran continues on his way to the kitchenKara:
No voice is raised in reply, but a lot of heads shake. Kotov takes all of this in, and continues his search.
"Hello!" he says cheerily to the clerk.
"Well, no, I don't have a license."
"No, I'm not here to get one either. I'm not a wizard."
"Yes, sir, very droll. A pointy hat, indeed. No, I'm here to make a delivery to a Miss Mirielle Dyer."
"Dame Dyer, is it? Your pardon, then, but this is still something she had requested."
Gerug pulls out the remains that had been entrusted with him.
"I've kept it wrapped. It's not getting any less ripe, so you may wish to get it to her as quickly as possible."
"Not really. She's preparing a treatment of some sort, from what I understand."
"Oh. Well, thank you again."
Humming tunelessly, Gerug steps outside again, wandering off through the city.
*walks through the city gate with Kywyn*
*excited about seeing civilization again, they move through the streets toward the Hightower*
*stopping at the doors, she feels the familiar nervousness that always accompanies entering the tower, a place and a group with which she has had more than her share of bad experiences*
*opening the doors, she steps in and walks to the clerk*
Excuse me. I need to see Mirielle Dyer. I have a spell component for her research.
*nods when she is told that Miri isn't seeing anyone at this time*
*frowns slightly*
Could you please see that she gets this? It's the mummy arm she requested.
*smiles politely*
Thank you.
*turning back to Kywyn, she smiles slightly*
Let's get back home.
*walks outside with him*
And then her brain catches up with her eyes. The hesitation is brief, however, and the voice is calm.
"Were you in need of assistance, sir?" she asks.
"I request aduience with your master.."
"Your pardon, sir, but how shall I announce you?"
He removes his hand from the desk and wraps it around his staff.
She rings a bell, then redirects the youngster who responds to begin his search. Then, quill to parchment, she asks Ulerian a few questions.
"Ulerian, I'm assuming that you don't have a permit for casting spells within city limits. Is this correct? I'll need you to describe the spells you are able to cast, as well as the name of any previous mentors."
He breaks eye contact and observes the room, blinking for the first time.
"I do not specialize in any one sort. I prefer ones that weaken, frighten, or incapacitates my enemys... How's that? I won't needlessly go over my cantrips if it's all the same to you..."
He returns his gaze to meet the clerk's
"His name was Iryk, that is what I knew him by.. He is dead."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she says. "You've done the right thing by coming here. We'll find you someone to continue your training very soon, never you worry."
She pauses, hesitantly, then continues to work on the scroll for Ulerian's license.
Ulerian stands patiently.
"Give him quarters with the gnome. It will be a useful test of character."
Ulerian notices that the man does not say whose character this will be testing.
"Yes, Master Kotov," says the boy.
"Lessons will be reviewed at dawn, before breakfast," says Kotov, then adds "after the study has been cleaned. See to it.
"For now," he continues, turning to the other apprentice, "See that he is aware of the locations of the libraries, the dining hall, and my study and lab."
The younger boy hastens to direct Ulerian as he is bid, while the older man doesn't even wait to see what they will do before preparing to leave again.
"Tomorrow I will find the others..."
He says to himself before nodding off
To Elsewhere
*Tynk enters, going straight to the front desk where a clerk he does not recongnize looks at him in a somewhat board manner. In his forties, the clerk looks somewhat board yet dutiful at his position.*
Clerk "Hello young sir, what is it I can do for you?"
*Nods*
"Please inform Cione at his convienience that Tynk Waverstone has returned and sends his appologies for his tardyness. Tell him I will have a full report accounting for the events that took place and what I have learned within the week."
*The clerck is slightly surprised, not expecting such mannerism from someone so young.*
Clerk: "Very well. Anything else?"
"Yes...pleased to meet you..."
*Again the clerk is slightly taken aback.*
Marco: "Marco Vinidel...and the pleasure is mine."
*The two exchange a hand-shake and eye-contact...measuring each-other. Tynk notes the exchange, catching something he cannot quite identify in the short stare.*
"One more thing, please have a messenger to my room to make a delivery in two hours. Thank you Marco."
Marco: "Yeah, not a problem."
*Tynk shuffles off to his room, breakfast, and a long-awaited bath.*
Mr. Waverstone,
I am delighted to learn that everyone has returned safely after facing undead in the fortress. I can certainly do without your help for a while longer, though I hope you can return soon; I will be needing to travel to a village south of town before much more time passes, and I feel it would be asking rather a lot of Mr. Enelevin to ask him to act as the sole person running the shop again so soon.
When you return, we can discuss your need for more space. Things may have to be rearranged to accomodate your additonal equipment, but I'm sure we can come to an arrangement that will allow you to continue your work on the premises.
I will attempt to help you find the help and guidance you seek at your convenience; feel free to come to me for that purpose, even if you are not yet ready to return to work.
Signed,
Natala
Postscript: Do not worry overmuch about your tendency to ramble. Such ramblings can offer unexpected insight, if one pays attention, even into one's own thoughts.
*He prepares himself to identify the next item, his forth of the day. Already he is somewhat effected by the glasses of wine he consumes with the pearl-dust each casting.*
*Downing his forth glass, he sets to work on the second suite of full plate. Although the process is repetative and time-consuming, the look on his face is of someone enjoying himself.*
.oO(Although I have learned the spell this is the first chance I have ever had to identify items, and it looks like I will be getting plenty of practice. Kind of...romantic.)
*He spends time in spell, probing the different auras and focusing on each to determine their values. As the day passes to night he is still at work, and by the end he is thouroghly inebriated.*
.oO(So much for adding those spells to my book. I will have to start with that tommorow morn'.)
*He checks over his notes on the items he identified, making certain he did not disclude anything about their functions. That finished he settles into bed for his first time not on the cold ground in quite some time. It doesn't take him long to fall asleep, even with his roomate mumbling over and over a new spell he is trying to learn.*
Items Identified today
~Silver Belt
~Amulet
~Full Platex2
~Scimitar
~Warhammer
~Fan
~Heavey Flail
(8 pearls used, 30 remaining)
Spell List
0~~~>Prestidigitationx3, Detect Magic
1~~~>Identifyx8
2~~~>(See Above)
3~~~>Major Imagex2, Haste
.oO(This spell is going to take quite a few days to copy...Wih this and the identifications it's a wonder I even have time to eat.)
*After a good amount of work is done on it and many hours later, he is found in his room studying the identification spell and another round of castings on the next set of items brought by one of the Jackals.*
Items to be Identified this day
~Arrowsx24
~Adamentine Arrow
~Wand
~Greataxe
~Breastplate
~Banded Mail
(6 or 7 pearls to be used, 24 left. Amount used pending number of castings for the 24 arrows.)
(Tynk will try to identify any of the potions without a cast if poossible)
The fan is capable of unleashing a terrific wind, though it is too fragile to use more than once a day if one does not to wish damaging it. The belt has been enspelled to improve the singing ability of the one who wears it, while the amulet enhances the health of anyone who wears it.
Cione is able to identify five of the remaining potions in a manner of minutes, but it takes another day before someone can identify the last two.
=====
OoC: At the cost of 15 pearls, the following items have been identified
- amulet of health +2 (+2 Con bonus)
- +2 arrows (24)
- +1 construct slaying arrow
- +2 banded mail
- silver belt (grants +5 competence bonus to Perform (sing) checks)
- +1 breastplate
- +1 fullplate (two suits)
- +1 greataxe
- +1 heavy flail
- oil of magic vestment +3
- potions of eagle's splendor (x3)
- potion of rage
- salve of slipperiness
- +1 scimitar
- wand of dispel magic (15 charges, 10th level caster)
- +1 warhammer
- wind fan
This leaves only the staff to be identified.
.oO(Let's see if this staff was worth the suspense. Abjuration was it?)
*He drinks the wine, feather, and pearl mix and sets to work. With the staff layed out in front of him, he sits and meditates cross-legged on a spread blanket.*
*Some time passes and Tynk finds himself within the energies of the staff.*
.oO(Yes, Abjuration. Indeed protection and cancellation properties. This will prove most useful indeed.)
*Eventually he learns of the activation words and exact functions of the staff before finishing his notes and heading off to sleep.*
.oO(It's so nice to be consistantly clean again...)
*Eventually though, after the items he identified (including the staff) are picked up, he is off to Natala's shop in his clean outfit and the fine furr given to him on a previous adventure.*
To Natala's
*Staying up late Tynk puts the finishing touches on what he believes to be a spell he now understands.*
*With a big yawn he blows his candle out and heads to bed.*
Morning
*After his usual morning roughtine Tynk is dressed and out the door, leaving his staff and backpack behind.*
Spells prepared, (and now prepared commonly)
0~~>Read Magic, Light, Prestidigitationx2
1~~>Grease, Color Spray, Mage Armor, Expeditious Retreat
2~~>Cat's Grace, Invisibility, Mirror Image, Spider Climb
3~~>Haste, Major Image, Cir. Protection: Evil
To Natala's
*Returns from his busy afternoon and sets to work on his next spell...and with apparent eagerness.*
.oO(Don't let your fortune get to your head Tynk...there is work to be done.)
Scribble scribble
”….While the existence of the soul, in humanoids, has been proven by various individuals, mostly those of certain spiritual backgrounds or beliefs, the effects of certain magics on them varies from spell to spell. These are also effected differently depending on the state in which the souls are currently in. These souls represent the life force of living individuals on this plane of existence. This life force is different from what sustains the life in the body, or mind. It is a thread that holds the being to a certain plane and thus making them either vulnerable to opposite energies or receptive to similar ones. However, the being in question may exist on two planes at once. Certain undead for example reside among the living in our plane, yet their souls or true life force is generally existent on a plane that is mostly driven or filled with the negative energies. We call them negative, not because they are necessarily evil, but because of the effects these energies have on us and our life forces. The bond is stronger with the more powerful undead, as it is in the opposite cases, those beings whose power or life force resides on a more positively strong plane. Certain magics draw from these energies and depending on the caster, have different effects, like with the undead, the more powerful the caster the stronger the effects of the energies they wield. Positive and negative energies are not good or evil. Those are labels put on them by the inhabitants here due to their effects on us, our bodies and sometimes our souls. Negative energies causes injury, fear, and sometimes death, where as positive energies heal, restore conditions, or boost current conditions. The effects of these types of energies, on a first hand basis, are the main reason for their very black and white labeling. Should a caster decide he wants to use negative energy, this does not make him evil. If he uses the energy for an evil purpose, this of course, would not be the case…..
….. Positive energies are good for the average man to receive but they are very deadly to those whose power lies in the negative energies. Those beings would likely label the two types in an opposite way. Their energy being positive to them and what we consider ‘positive’ would be negative to them as is causes the same effects, reflectively, that theirs do to us, or more positively aligned beings….
…. Also, when a being has been hit with even the slightest amount of energy that is oppositely aligned to them, i.e. a normal man is radiated in negative energy, they become weaker. The energy weakens their soul, taking away some of its power. Spell casters forget spells, Cleric’s lose faith, and warriors lose skills. These effects are generally temporary, but often as not are permanent….”
Ulerian makes many notes, and continues his reading. After a while he stops and makes his way to his room. Dropping off his notes. He soon exits the tower.
Questions are asked, and eventually, it is determined who is responsible for this behaviour. Within half an hour, the matter is brought before Kotov.
Five minutes, Ulerian is also brought before the senior mage, who spends a few quite minutes staring at the younger man before he speaks.
"You enjoy spending time with a good book and a pipe, do you?"
"Yes.. Has this caused issues within the ranks, Master?"
His tone is not one of concern, nor is it mocking, simply neutral in presence.
Stepping inside he approaches the clerk at the desk and ask for Tynk Waverstone. However he states that he is in no hurry and will wait until the young man arrives.
"Yes. Some of the older texts are very fragile. It has been some time since there has been a fire in the library, especially since the lighting is provided by simple arcane measures, but a carelessly misplaced pipe did cost us the Boden Manuscript. Fire, no matter how trivial the source, does not mix well with the books.
"There is also the matter of the librarian's delicate constitution. Years of reviewing the texts, of the dust -- even with the efforts apprentices like yourself have made to keep the library clean -- all of that has left him with a very sensitive nose. He cannot bear the odor of tobacco, and it does tend to linger.
"In the future, you will refrain from smoking while reviewing the texts."
Kotov leans forward, steepling his index fingers beneath his chin.
"On another matter, Ulerian, what is your opinion of gnomes?"
"I know little of them, generally thier methods are.. chaotic.. to say the least. More often then naught ending in the opposite effect sought for. I believe they focus more on spells effecting mood and mind more than most.. If you are speaking in terms of magic of course.. "
He stops talking and stares blankly at Kotov.
"I have no biases or predjudices towards them on a personal level, however.. "
"Darkar, a pleasant surprise. The division of the recovered items went well with the others and yourself I hope?"
Marco: "Tynk," *nods* "you may want to evaluate your appearance. Your hair is unruly and your robe ruffled."
The boy nods in return.
"I have just mastered a flight spell, and am trying to decide if it is more useful than it is exciting."
"I will see to my appearance immediately though, thank-you."
Marco: "...o.k." *shrug* "You really enjoy the arcane?"
"..."
.oO(Imensely)
"It's a hobby and a career...I enjoy it."
After his conversation with the clerck he retires to his room and immediately sets to work on his next project.
In the past, Kywyn had worn the gloves to protect things he touched, fearing an uncontrolled release of his dark touch. Even though he has grown more in command of his powers, the fear does not change. It's the fear that an accident can happen to someone or something you hold dear and there's nothing you can do about it... that you may, in fact, be the cause of it. But, counter to what he believed before, he finds more comfort in holding on than in letting go.
Reaching the heavy doors of the tower, Kywyn releases NaShae's hand to open the door for her.
*she walks with him to the clerk*
Excuse me. I have something for Mirielle.
*she reaches into her pack, stretching so she doesn't have to let go of Kywyn*
*taking out the bag of coins, she sets them on the counter*
Can you see that this gets to her? And please tell her it's from NaShae and Kywyn.
*smiles and nods at the clerk*
*turns to Kywyn to see if he's ready to leave*
Stepping outside into the light, he asks NaShae, "Any other place you wanted to visit while we were out?"
No. All I want is to go home and be there with you.
*sighs*
We should at least see about getting what we need for the trip. There's not a lot of time to get everything done.
"I'm right here..."
Kywyn says softly, "To the market, then?"
That sounds alright.
*she walks back toward the market with him*
Originally posted by Tynk77
It doesn't take long for the boy-mage to appear. He approaches the elf with the warm slight of a smile on his face. A hand stained with much ink suggesting many hours spent at the quil reaches to shake.
"Darkar, a pleasant surprise. The division of the recovered items went well with the others and yourself I hope?"
Yes the division went quicker than I expected. Though I am saddened that Hermy had to find out the way he did that Alissa would not be returning.
How are you doing since returning from the castle?
"That is good to know. There is only one gnome studying in the tower at present, named A'mok. As he has been assigned to me, it is likely that the two of you will be required to work together on a frequent basis. Association outside of your duties is not required, however, it may be that you can keep a record of any unusual events that occur in his presence.
"Do not provoke him unnecessarily. While he seems to know only a few basic spells, he does appear to have had some martial training in the past. He exhibits a cheerful façade, but there is potential for unrestrained violence behind it. He hasn't displayed that yet, but it is only a matter of time."
Kotov gazes quietly at Ulerian until he is sure he has the younger mage's full attention.
"I would prefer that this occurred in a controlled setting. There are to be no accidents. Records have been kept of some of the magic at his disposal, but I wish to know whether he will reach for it or the sword in a crisis."
"What is the crisis you plan to set before him, or us, I suppose I should say? I wouldn't think 'controlled' would allow a monster on the path. Maybe a known one??"
"Young man, I don't recall saying that I intended to create an incident," he says pointedly.
"We're just discussing the matter of your accomodations, and making sure that you will not be unduly discomfitted with having to share quarters with someone of a different species. Now, were there any other concerns you wished to discuss with me?"
"No.. I do not care if I am staying with a orge that smells of swamp carrion, as long as it does interfere with my work. I am sorry if I took your meaning wrong, I thought you were asking me to evaluate his performance under .. 'stress' Which to me entailed the two of us encountering something, something you planned for, as you put it so the situation was 'controlled' I would have done this without question, as you are my supierior, even though it would in fact interfere with my studies. I will assume nothing in the future. I see things in very black and white terms Master Kotov, and like for them to be explained thusly.. I do not mean to sound brash in any way, so please do not take this as a demand or the like.
That being said... I am at your disposal, though I would rather any issues you would like for me to resolve be in my prefered field, I will of course at your command, stray from this and do my duty to the Hightower."
Ulerian ends his little statment and taps his long nails on the arm of his chair.
"I will be available to review your studies after breakfast most mornings, and you are free to make use of the general library and workshops once you've completed any assigned tasks.
"That is all for now, Ulerian; I will see you in the morning."
"As you wish.. Oh.. Master Kotov, please send my regards to the librarian, my deepest sympathies to be exact. It will not happen again. Good day sir."
Ulerian turns and exits, finding his way to his quarters.
Originally posted by Darkar Shadowood
Yes the division went quicker than I expected. Though I am saddened that Hermy had to find out the way he did that Alissa would not be returning.
How are you doing since returning from the castle?
"Yes, that was very sad. Although knowing Hermy, he has a strong heart and is very understanding.
Lowers his voice.
"I am more worried about Aria..."
Begins walking with him to the lounge.
"Anyways, my studies are going well...I have just mastered two new spells and added them to my spellbook. On top of that I have used a good portion of my share to supply myself with the best equipment availible to work my alchemy. I am quite pleased, although I lack the funds to copy some of the more useful spells from the brass book...it is very expensive."
Chuckles
"Forgive me, what is it that brings you here Sir Shadowood of the Jackals, and how has your time since been?"
Originally posted by Tynk77
"Yes, that was very sad. Although knowing Hermy, he has a strong heart and is very understanding.
Lowers his voice.
"I am more worried about Aria..."
Begins walking with him to the lounge.
"Anyways, my studies are going well...I have just mastered two new spells and added them to my spellbook. On top of that I have used a good portion of my share to supply myself with the best equipment availible to work my alchemy. I am quite pleased, although I lack the funds to copy some of the more useful spells from the brass book...it is very expensive."
Chuckles
"Forgive me, what is it that brings you here Sir Shadowood of the Jackals, and how has your time since been?"
I have been very busy to say the least with my work with the Jackals.
I did have a question for you though. What magic was it that seemingly enhanced my reflexes? That was extremly useful and I was wondering if there was a way to make it permanent?
"There is a set of gloves I could make that holds the enchantment, but I am afraid the process is rather expensive."
"3200 golds, and that is at a substantial discount for a friend and comrad. You will be quite pleased with the results though, I assure you."
.oO(Finally, my first project!)
"First you will need to to attain a pair of gloves to your size and liking. They need to be finely crafted, like most magical items you have seen. Pay for them out of the 3200, and as you said bring the rest by. Once you have this done I can begin the process, and from there it should take a few days."
Bids the elf good-day and heads to his room to continue his most recent project.
When one is exposed to negative energy in its raw form, the effects are almost always disastrous. Anything from a temporary loss of physical strength to permanent loss of health, even death and reanimation can happen, depending on the power and source of the energy. Some spells for example harm the target while healing the caster. These tap both ends of the spectrum, or so it is believed. Since the caster flushes said target with negative energy, weakening or draining the subject’s powers or life force, then the spell actually reverses the flow so the caster gains in power, albeit for the most part a temporary effect. Other spells simply injure the target. These cause physical damage, breaking bones, lacerations, internal, and external bleeding. All this is of course assuming the target is one charged ‘positively’ or a creature native to our plane of existence. Exceptions always occur. When using these energies on one’s foes, the caster must be aware that he is causing harm, hurting and or otherwise weakening the target creature. Very much in the same way a fire spell would, only in different ways. These spells are very offensive to the target! This is stress as such so that the caster is aware, though they may not be burning their targets to death, enough saturation with negative energies generally will kill the subject or possibly maim them permanently…….
He finds himself staring rudely, unaware he is even doing so.
.oO(Who is that man? Is he new to the tower?...Cione mentioned new apprentices.)
The man glances at him and Tynk shakes himself from his revere, not to mention the chill he gets from those black eyes.
.oO(Common Tynk, you have delt with the undeath, a blood-troll, orcs, ogres, wherewolves, halflings...well the halflings delt with you, but in any case...this man shouldn't bother you.)
Still, he fights off another chill in remembering that stare as he goes to the librarian.
When she returns with the brass book he takes it to a table and continues deciphering the writings on the ward which would protect one from various energies.
Until then Tynk.
With a nod of his head Darkar turns and leaves.
Ulerian stops studying and leaves heading for the Last Lich
.oO(I should be finished with this spell tommorow. Things are going along nicely.)
Heads off to a late dinner and then to sleep. He has no trouble falling asleep immediately, feeling as though he were much older than his 17 years.
Thank you for letting me use the spare bed, I really appreciate it.
With a wave to the fellow mage, she heads down the stairs, Ixchal cavorting about her feet.
.oO(NaShae will know to look for me; I need a bath and some breakfast!)
Upon leaving the Hightower, she turns her steps towards home.
To Elsewhere
*she enters the large doors that open into the hightower, and even though it is not her first time in such a place she still feels the architecture as extraordianary*
.oO(I can't rememebr the last time I was in here, but I still can feel the power as if it is drawing me to this place....)
*she feels a cold chill run up her spine only to be comforted by a warm sensation as she looks down at her hands which seem to glow, but when she blinks the glow is gone*
*she stares at her hands for a moment*
.oO(Odd...)
*she shakes the thought and places it in the back of her mind to worry about later and heads up to the clerks desk*
.oO(Almost done...)
The dim light from the nearly finished candle flickers as Tynk's vision dances with it. Shaking himself, he looks up to see the librarian is asleep in these wee-hours at her desk.
.oO(I cannot stop now, even as tierd as I am. I got the concept fresh and will be done within the hour.)
He continues to scribe the protection spell and time passes unnoticed to the boy-mage, so engrossed in his work. He writes on, more and more becoming unaware he is even writing at all.
Again he shakes himself and blinks his eyes many times.
.oO(Gosh it's blurry)
He gets up and stretches...yawns...and walks around his desk somewhere.
.oO(Where?)
Taking a deep breath through his nose he stops suddenly in his lulling stupor.
.oO(Dew? Wet-wood?)
His vision clears and there stands the lizard from his dreams. The same one, in the same clearing...only this time the lizard is reading a book, a brass one.
.oO(I...huh?)
The lizard takes a bite out of the page of the book and chews on the paper as Tynk stands dumb-founded.
Then the lizards spits the paper out and cocks it's head twards the boy, followed by a light flashing out from it twards him and that same slap-stick sound.
T-Kish!!
Tynk awakens with a start with flashbulbs in his vision and neck hairs standing on end. For a long moment he sits there in shock, not understanding what just happened.
Finally he shakes his head and looks to his work, and again he starts in surprise.
.oO(What the...)
The page had been turned a third the way through the book to the first page of a new spell. Lighting another candle so he can see better, Tynk works out the firsts few words of it.
.oO(Bolt...of...Lightning.)
A shiver runs down his spine and he is left there to contimplate what happened, see-sawing between denial and repression.
.oO(I must meet with this fellow Kywyn again. He knows much more than he told me.. perhaps he has powers that would be of use to my research. He is not a dotard though.. and his mind is cautious, in time he may share what he is capable of. A demonstration would be most helpful indeed…but on what subject..)
He scratches his chin in thought..He stands and slowly paces in the garden, walking the same path throughout.
.oO(A human or elf would do little good. It must be the reanimated however, I do not know all of their traits as I would like…and example of the effect on them is needed.. but how do I get him to go.. I could attempt to use his companion as an asset.. but she could have powers of her own.. No.. I need this information in good faith. I need not waste time on useless spells if he can demonstrate their effectiveness for me.. assuming he can use the powers at all… Perhaps the tower has records of various effects, specific records of what the spells have done in the past. It would save time.. doubtful though, unless personal records are recorded, or donated… )
He continues to pace and think until after nightfall.
Excuse me..would you possibly know where I would be able to find help on identifying contents of some vials?
It would be most appreciated.
*she clerk looks up from his pile of papers amd raises an eyebrow at the elf*
"Well our mage in identifying isn't here at the moment, but I can take those and leave a note for her if you like."
Yes I think that would be fine..Thankyou.
*the clerk gets a paper and pen*
"Your name miss?"
Anaya...
"..and where she may be able to reach you?"
Um..I am staying at the weatherby borading house, she can find me there or at the SSAG.
*the clerk nods and jots the information down on the paper and places the bag behinf the counter with the note attached to the bag*
"I'll be sure to let her know..."
*she nods her head*
Thankyou.
*then turns and leaves the building*
TO Elsewhere
Comming down the stares Tynk stops as he catches a glimse of a black-haired women exiting the hightower. The boy stops short and stares in wonder.
.oO(So familiar...who?)
.oO(?!)
.oO(Anaya?!...no, it can't be...I must be imagining things. She is dead...wake-up Tynk.)
He continues about his day, checking his mail and returning to finish writing yet another spell into his spellbook.
"I think this is where you register for a license. There's probably a clerk around here that could help you."
*looking around she decides to speak to the clerk, and waits her turn in line
He frightened me, it is odd to see someone with an emotionless look. Not even mad, I could deal with him being angry, as we were in his way, but he was't even angry. Just emotionless, like he is a void. Scary, huh?
*having waited to speak to the clerk she now approaches the desk and smiles, knowing that sometimes being a clerk can be tedious, especially around mages as they tend to be rather high-strung
Excuse me, I hate to take up your valuable time, but I would like to enquire about a spellcasting license. I am new here, so I would appreciate the information, as I would like to stay here.
Desk Clerk: *sigh* Yes, I need your name, the type of spells you cast and an address that I can reach you at. Depending on the power of your spells there may be a cost for the license. But I think yours will be free.
Thank you very much! Unfortunately I have not yet a permanent address here, so I will not be applying for it today. And yes, I am a low level caster, which is mighty good, as I don't have much gold to spare on a license. I thank you again for your time and the information, no doubt you will see me again within a few days time.
*she curtsies and turns to Maelut motioning that they leave to other parts now
Did you hear that? I need a permanent address, and I cannot afford to stay at Nobody's for ever. I need to start making an income, and get a permanent address, do you have any ideas? I can perform to make silver for food and a place to sleep, but where is that place to sleep?
*taking Maelut's arm, as the High Tower is intimidating to her, they leave to go elsewhere in the city
[to Elsewhere]
.oO(I need a break...and a good meal for once.)
Closing the book he puts a stopper on the ink-vial and grabs his new staff and money-pouch before exting twards the market area.
OoC: Finished Adding Alarm to spellbook.
to Last-Lich Inn
Wearily and somewhat tipsy Tynk enters and heads to the clerks dest.
Clerck: "Yes Tynk?"
"There was a girl here by the name of Anaya who dropped off some items to identify. If you would please have them delivered to my room in the morning I will take care of them."
Procures the amount of gold for the identification.
"And here are her dues for the service."
The clerck raises an eyebrow but says nothing.
Tynk immediately heads to his room and to sleep, very satified with the nights events.
The last few days have kept Tynk as busy as ever identifying potions, desiphering yet another spell, copying it, and spending some time (finaly) at Natala's with his new equipment. Needless to say he is ready to take a break.
.oO(Still more to complete first. A few more days...)
OoC: Finished copying Lighting Bolt to spellbook.
Current day, morning.
Afte his roughtine greeting of the day he makes his way to Natala's.
.oO(About an hour...good.)
Heads to the desk, checks his mail, then retires to his room for the night, sleeping early.
Morning
Wakes to chores, studies, and an early lunch. Then he is out the door again to Natala's.
"My friend and I would like spellcasting permits."
Clerk: Very well, I need your name, an address at which you may be reached and the type of spells you cast. The first license is free with this information. Please remember to upgrade your license if you gain access to higher level magic as the penalties for casting magic without the appropriate license are quite high.
*nodding to inform the clerk that she understands, Angeliqué then speaks up
I am Angeliqué Noel of the Ranielina. My address is at Nobody's Inn, and I cast detection spells, and also ones that aid in my trade as a performer.
*after being told to wait until her name is called for her permit, she sits down, awaiting Maelut to do the same
He laughs at his joke, and then sits down beside Angelique to wait.
.o0(Young lady? She's probably older than my father...not that you can tell with elves.)
[Clerk]
"Don't forget to keep these with you at all times. And if you lose them, you're responsible for paying to get it replaced."
Maelut takes the permit and puts it into his pocket. He turns and smiles at the "young lady".
"Well, I guess that makes me a real magic user! Let's get out of here, I can smell some pipe smoke that's bothering my lungs."
[Exit to elsewhere]
Thank you. Yes, you are now a magic cook!
*she exits with Maelut onto the streets of Garic's City
[to Elsewhere]
He reads on and nods in satisfaction.
.oO(The southern marshes...it may not sound that appealing but I shall make my way there.)
He continues to read on.
Good day. My name is Tycho Eharb. I wish to become a student here.
Clerk: I see. Do you have any prior spellcasting experience?
Yes. My mentor taught me for three years, but felt that I would learn faster in a better environment. We travelled a lot, you see.
Clerk: Of course. What was his name, pray?
Citume. I don't think he had a second name. He never gave one, ever. Tycho's face begins to flush I have a letter of recommendation from him here. Tycho hands the clerk the letter.
Clerk: Well, that seems to be in order. You will need a license to cast spells in this town. The first license is free, but you will need to pay a fee to replace it if you lose it, or if you want to upgrade it. The list of spells it is valid for is found just over there, on the wall. The clerk hands Tycho his apprentice-level license Wait here, please. I will fetch someone about enrolling you.
After a few minutes the clerk returns.
Clerk: Please, take a seat. Someone will be along shortly.
Tycho sits down to wait, trying not to fidget.
Man: Tycho Eharb?
Yes, sir.
Man: You are the one who wants to enroll here as a student?
Yes, sir.
Man: You said you have some skill at spellcasting already. What spells can you cast?
I have learned to cast all the cantrips, as well as a warding spell which alarms me the the presence of others, a spell which allows me to endure the elements, one which holds a portal shut for a short while, a spell which summons an unseen servant, a spell to disguise myself, a spell shich puts people to sleep and a spell that creates a ray of enfeeblement.
Man: My my. Simple spells, yes, but an impressive list nonetheless.
Thank you, sir.
Man: Do you have any other special skills?
Well, sir, I speak Celestial, Dwarven, Draconic and Elven. I also have some skill at alchemy, and can ride and handle animals should the need arise. My penmanship is not poor, either.
Man: And that rapier at your side, you can use it?
I am no master, but should the need arise I can wield it.
Man: My my. Well, I think you will fit right in here. You will be staying here in the tower, sharing a room with other apprentices. You will have your studies to keep you busy, as well as some housekeeping duties. Cleaning, taking inventory, restocking, that sort of thing. The order in which you do things is not very important, as long as all your duties get done. In time. I reccomend that you try to get some free time squeezed in somewhere, you don't want to stay cooped up in here all week long. Any questions?
Several, sir. I just don't know what they are yet.
Man: Ha! Quite, quite. I will summon someone to show you to your shared room. The other apprenticies will explain the details of your duties, and your studies will begin tomorrow. In the meantime, settle in, get to know your peers and fellow apprenticies, maybe explore the city a bit. My name is Dray Hayer, by the way.
Tycho thanks Dray and follows a youth to the room. The youth points out an unclaimed bed, and Tycho places his pack on the bed, and sits down.
Youth: The other apprenticies will probably arrive within a half-hour. *scuttles of before Tycho has the chance to thank him or even ask him his name*
.oO(Ahh well. I can unpack, and wait.)
*mumbling to himself* " The Journals of Haydi Konnegaught... Origins of Magic... hmm... A History of the Elves... The Reign of King Lorham II... no, boring... Draconic Lore... The History of Garic's City. Oh! Probably a good idea to know the history of my new home. Tycho carefully removes the book from the shelf and goes to a chair to start reading.
"The History of Garic's City... commendable choice. Mikenas tended to be a bit poetic for a historian, but he manages to remain relatively unbiased in my opinion. This is a very promising start, Mr. Eharb; continue to impress me and you may go far quickly."
When (if?) Tycho turns, he sees a dark-bearded man in grey studying him. The man extends a powerful hand as if to shake.
"I am Master Kotov, and I will be the one overseeing your progress. You may find that my expectations are high. Consider what it is that you wish to learn, and you may understand why that is. One must learn responsibility before one is given the tools to change the world, or the power tends to lead to ruin, usually one's own.
"For the next few days, Ulerian will be guiding you through your routine. You will follow his direction, but make sure he doesn't try to get you to do his work for him -- there's enough there for two of you. He'll be sharing a room with you and... there is a gnome, named A'mok. He is generally quite helpful, but be cautious nonetheless.
"Have you any questions?"
OoC: Don't be afraid to ask the questions all in one post. I'm not certain how quickly I can reply, but I'll try to leave you free to continue on your way from this point, if possible.
.oO(Funny how I've come to love the smell of this place...)
She gives a little wave to the receptionist on duty, and peeks at the duty roster.
Good, still assigned for the potions room.
Heading up the stairs, she hurries to claim her favorite workbench, and settles down to her tasks.
"Yes sir, a few. Are there any parts of the tower which are of limits for students? I tend to be fairly ranging when I explore, and don't want to get into hot water on my first day."
*pauses for answer*
"That is good to know sir. You said that one of my room mates was a gnome? I had the imporession that every one here was human. I take it that this is not the case?"
The elder wizard clenches his jaw when the second question is asked, and he replies in carefully measured tones.
"Once, that was the case, but the policy has been rescinded recently. It is difficult to bar elves when the master of the tower is one. Now we must accept gnomes -- or orcs, should one ever apply and prove worthy."
Kotov shudders for a moment, as though reliving an unpleasant memory. Then he recomposes himself.
"So long as they respect the authority of the Hightower, however, it should all work out in the end."
.oO(Maybe after I get home. It'll teach me to be more careful around the brazier.)
Good night Ashleagh, Quincey...
She waves, scoops up her weasel, and heads downstairs. In the lobby, she pauses at the reception desk long enough to upgrade her casting license.
.oO(Ouch, 80 gold hurts more than the burn!)
That taken care of, she pulls cloak closer and walks home.
to Elsewhere
*Waits for response, if leave is given Tycho goes back to the room to find Ulerian*
OoC: I'm not sure Ulerian will be around today, Tycho. Feel free to take the opportunity to step out of the tower instead, if you wish to get in some interaction, assuming that you weren't able to find him and someone else showed you around for the moment.
[To Elsewhere]
As Tycho arrives back at the Hightower, he enquires again about Ulerian. Still being nowhere to be found, he goes to the library to continue his study of The History of Garic's City.
.oO(In the future I'll have to go somewhere else to read. The air in the library is really stuffy. Air...)
Tycho goes out of the tower and heads toward the public park by the Palace
[to Elsewhere]
"Quite a bother.. or.. perhaps an opportunity.."
He says quietly to himself. He turns and makes his way to his quarters. Reviewing his notes and rewriting them from loose paper and memory to his books, take up his time until Tycho finds him.
[i]Refreshed by his quick walk, Tycho goes back to the room. Still not having found his new mentor, Tycho falls promptly asleep.
[Today]
Ready to face the new day, Tycho goes to find Ulerian. He is heartened when he is told that Ulerian is indeed available and will meet him shortly.
"Tycho I presume?"
Ulerian nods slightly under his hood.
"We share it with the gnome, I see him rarely. I would appologise for my tardyness, but I was ignorant of being charged to guide you. However, I have no other pressing matters, so shall we?"
"By all means. I am eager to begin. I have looked around some already. The library, especially. It is a grand place indeed, this."
Ulerian opens the door and exits the room, walking down the hall as he talks.
"Do you have a focus in your studies?"
Ulerian leads Tycho to a winding staircase and descends is slowly as they talk.
A barely noticable pause, as Tycho thinks.
"For a child, of course."
Tycho finds himself following Ulerian down more steps, and being quized more.
"What good do you derive from physically increasing magics? For others perhaps?"
Following Ulerian through corridor after corridor, stairwell after stairwell, Tycho takes in everything around him.
"How big is this place? Do you know how many people study here?"
Ulerian opens a large oak door revealing a hallway, doors to each side.
"There are laboratories here for the pupils. You are provided with only the very cheapest and mundane materials by the tower, the rest you must provide for yourself. This may change as your presence is noticed or your work is reviewed, approved, and comended. This is speculation on my part. Is there anything else you wish to see in the tower?"
Ulerian nods and turns to leave, and stops abruptly.
"Oh, if you come to our quarters, and I am visibly studying, do not speak to me. I doubt I will have the time or desire to interupt my studies. Unless it is of utmost importance of course."
Ulerian gives a small, cynical grin and stands awaiting ackowledgement of his request.
.oO(Well, he was certainly... professional. Ah well, no matter. I'd better get started anyway.)
Tycho heads off to the main library. After a few minutes of searching, he finds and takes A Treatsie on the Powers and Limitations of Abjuration Magic. Remebering the stuffy air, he takes the book with him to one of the empty studies available to students that Ulerian howed him. Sitting down with book, pen and paper, he gets to work.
.oO(Well, time does fly it seems. What was the name of that inn by the marketplace I visited yesterday...? The Final Lick? Something like that... It had good ale at least. I hope the food is as good as the drink was.)
Tycho stands up, shuffles his papers and picks them up. He takes the book back to the library, carefully replacing it in the location he found i. The notes he took he brings to his room which he places on the desk next to his bed.
.oO(I wish the light was better in here, I'd be able to work here instead.)
Tycho marches out of the room and heads out.
[To the Last Lich Inn]
[from Last Lich Inn]
.oO(Back to work. Abjuration magic... interesting reading, but slow progress.)
Tycho picks up pen, paper and book and starts reading and taking notes, starting where he last left of.
.oO(Envocing magics into fire seems the most popular trends, or at least most desired... few concentrate on it's opposite.)
Ulerian spends many hours going over spells such as fireball and flame arrow and then cone of cold and ray of frost. He trys to find common ground in the make up of the spells and what would need to be changed in the wording to get the effect he is looking for. It is a long and hard proccess, with an uncertain outcome, but he does not reliquish none the less.
"There have been reports of odd things to the north, of families disappearing from their homes in the night, of the walking dead, and of trouble with kobolds in the region. I want to know how much truth there is to these stories, and if there is any connection between them if there is.
"You are to go take a look, and report your findings to me when you return. Anything unusual, anything at all, is to be mentioned -- be as meticulous in your writing as you are in your reading. Take whatever action you deem necessary to fulfill the task, but be mindful of not crossing the local authorities. If they report trouble, I will hear of it.
"My sources tell me that another group is leaving to deal with the kobolds, and I believe we can use this to our advantage. You will offer them your assistance on behalf of the Hightower. Tell them that you've been sent to investigate the extent of matters with the kobolds, but don't trouble them with the rest unless you find it necessary.
"As a... ahem! --'gesture of goodwill,' we will provide you with several healing potions and sunrods for the group, should your services be inadequate to convince them to accept you into their group. They will be left with the reception clerk for you to pick up when you depart.
"That is all, Ulerian. You may go prepare for the journey now. And have Tycho tend to the cauldron down in the alchemical lab before you leave. I don't know what was overcooked in it, but it's caked onto the edges, and that won't do."
OoC: Nothing personal, Tycho. I just thought I'd give you both an idea that the apprentices are assigned regular housekeeping and other menial duties on top of their studies while I was making this post. You're turn will come for better things, I assure you. ;)
"I will tell him, of course."
With a nod and a short bow Ulerian exits. He makes his way to his quarters He gathers his things, his 'road' gear, which is simply an addition of a small sack, and a heavy cloak, which he places neatly at the end of his bed. He stops by Tycho's desk and scribbles a quick note.
Tycho, Master Kotov requests your attention to the inside of the cauldron you used. It seems there are leftovers.
U
Ulerian leaves the pen on the paper and exits the quarters and eventually the Hightower
.oO(I should get some bread or something in here if I want to stay alive. Or alternativly actually eat something for supper.)
Arriving in his room, Tycho sees the note Ulerian left for him.
.oO(Cauldron? ... ah. Oh. Hehe. I'm too tired now, I will get to it first thing in the moring.)
Within minutes, Tycho receives a very rude awakening, as he is literally ripped from his bed and into the hall, dangling two feet from the ground. Seemingly unsupported, he is turned in midair to face his very displeased master.
"When I give a simple housekeeping assignment, I will find it done before morning," he states in a cold voice.
"Unless Ulerian informed you of the task, your duties for the next week will include cleaning the sulfur vats and getting the lime stains out of the tables in the third floor alchemical lab. You are now on double duty until you learn that I do not tolerate sloth among my students.
"Furthermore, if you are not immaculately clean in time for our daily lesson, you will instead spend that time cleaning the cages down in the cellar. I understand they were studying an otyugh recently, so I can promise you that sulfur and lime will seem tame in comparison."
Tycho is then flung back into his room, onto the bed, only to roll over it to land on the floor on the other side.
"Get dressed," orders Kotov, "You have twenty minutes for breakfast, after which I will expect to find you at work."
With that, he strides out of sight.
====
OoC: Let me clear up an understanding for those in the Hightower. Housekeeping duties are a daily task for all apprentices, and you do not assume that just because a DM has not informed you that you did them that you were not doing them. Likewise, do not assume that you are not receiving tutelage just because I have not posted someone providing it to you.
Welcome to apprenticeship with Kotov. If you have questions, feel free to ask them, but never assume that you won't be worked hard each day.
.oO(That's one mistake. I have a feeling I don't want to make any more.)
Tycho gets cleaned, shaved and dressed in record time. With just enough time to grab a slice of bread and some cheese for breakfast, he arrives in time for his lesson with seconds to spare. Not giving any explanaion or excuses for his 'sloth', Tycho does his absolute best during the lesseon. It is a very tired Tycho who, several hours later, starts cleaning the assigned cauldron.
"Well, I suppose I have no one to blame but myself. Ulerian did inform me that I had this duty."
The cauldron clean, an even more exhausted Tycho heads to the alchemy room on the third floor and startes cleaning the tables. Getting about a third of the tables clean before sundown, Tycho continues for another hour untill he is so tired he can barely stand. He makes his way to the kitchen, takes a bowl of cold stew and then goes to bed.
Joseph comes in out of the night, or rather very early morning, cold.
Joseph looks around for an attendant to fetch Tycho Eharb.
Come on... the sooner I find him, the sooner I get paid.
As Joseph is about to daze off while standing in the middle of the entry hall, a voice disturbs him and brings him back to full--or most--awareness.
"Excuse me sir, but it is late, and the Tower is closed," a clerk says. "You'll have to come back tomorrow to enroll."
"Enroll? I am here to find Tycho... Harp... no.. e-Barb... Eharb. That's it, I am looking for Tycho Eharb, he wanted me to find him something, and I would appreciate it if you would fetch him for me. Tell him Joseph is here," the bard says.
"Fine, but if he doesn't come you will have to leave, please have a seat until I get back."
Joseph wanders over to a seat and collapses in it.
"What? It is the middle of the night... "
Man: "I'm sorry to wake you, but there is a young man asking to see you. Says his name is Joseph and is quite insitant."
"Who? Him! Now? ... I will be right there. Give me a minute."
As the man leaves, Tycho reaches for the lime and sulphur stained tunic and leggings he had while cleaning the cauldron and the tables, and a purse with the gold he promised him. Stumbling in the dark, he finally arrives in the entry hall and sees Joseph standing there.
"When I asked you to come and get me if you found something, I didn't mean at...what... 1 in the morning."
"Okay, I spoke with a man in the market. He said that an herbalist might be interested in an Alchemist, or there is Natala's Mystic Store," Joseph relates. "I'll show you to Natala's later, after I am paid that is. Just come by the Last Lich Inn when you are ready."
Joseph holds out his hand waiting for payment.
Tycho takes the purse from a pocket and hands it to Joseph.
"You are certain this Natala needs an alchemist then?"
"Not at all sure, but I am positive that a local merchant would like to have a local supplier," Joseph says.
The bard replaces his hat on his head and exits the tower.
[to Last Lich Inn]
.oO(Lessons, double duties, meeting. Try not to miss any of them, Tycho...)
Hours later, about two hours till noon, he remembers he was to meet that singer about a job. Deciding to take a break, he goes back to the room, cleans up a bit and gets into clean clothes, and then heads of to the Last Lich Inn where he was supposed to meet up.
.oO(I hope I I can do this quickly, I really do not want to be late to Kotov)
[To Last Lich Inn]
Tycho gets back in time for his lessons. He is a bit preoccupied during it, thinking of what the best way to bring up his work with Master Kotov.
(OOC: Tomorrow, I need to sleep)
"There is something I need to ask you, sir."
"Yes?" he asks.
"One day each week, so long as the lab has been stocked and clean before you leave for the day. You aren't getting room and board and an education for free, after all."
He pauses again for a moment.
"If your studies proceed well enough, you may be able to make yourself available to Mistress Natala more regularly in the future. Today, however, I would suggest that you go over your notes very carefully. Your prospective employer has less reason to be forgiving of errors in formula than I do"
OoC: Off to sleep. I hope this helps.
Tycho makes a slight bow to Master Kotov
"Is that all sir? I some duties to finish."
As soon as the mage tops the basement stairs a large black Raven lights on his shoulder.
Crebain Ready now with the books Cas’? We go out of this city soon right, You promised.
Cassius Yes Crebain, all is now in place for a final test of my instructions, A few more days to do a new tattoo should prove the value of my toil. After that it is in the hands of the master of the tower. We can roam about while he makes his decision
[Edit] If Crebain finds out I called him a Crow..........[/Edit]
Cassius leaves his small room, his materials locked away in that good old riddlebox.
Drawing his cloak tight against whatever weather the outside has in store for him Cassius steps out of the tower and onto the streets fo the city....
Julia walks inside, looking around the entrance hall. She sees some people standing in line at the receptiondesk.
What are they waiting for? she asks softly, turning to Joseph.
"I'm not sure. I guess they are waiting to be served?" Joseph suggests.
Anyway, now we're here, I could ask about clerics now. Unless you have to be elsewhere? She looks at Joseph.
Joseph looks around and notices the lines are starting to thin as it gets late.
"If we get in line now, we probably wouldn't be waiting that long."
"Up to you."
I will now then, or else I'll just forget. You're staying?
Besides, I should be informed of the laws on magic.
Clerk: Can I help you?
Julia: I heard that illegal use of magic was forbidden in the city. Does that go for clerics too?
Clerk: No, unless you're planning on using arcane magic. But not many priests do. Wizards and other users of arcane magics do need a permit to be allowed to cast.
Julia: Thank you.
Turning to Joseph: That's my question answered. Have you got any? Like what it costs? She smiles slightly.
"Free," the clerk says, "Do you need one?"
Do you really want to have your name down on a list that says you can cast spells?
Do you want to get thrown in prison for casting spells without a permit?
"Yeah, I would like to get a permit."
"Okay, what type of magic do you cast?"
"Arcane?"
"No I mean the schools. Do you cast evocatives..?"
"Oh no, mostly glamers and tricks. I'm a preformer."
"Okay, well. Name? Last name first, first name last."
"J.. Kell, Joseph."
"And could you more specific than 'tricks'?"
"Yeah, um.. I can sing small wounds shut, sense and read magic, summon an instrument... just tricks."
"Okay... who taught you?"
"Well... I've had many a few instructors... Master Rortax, he's a Dwarf Skald... maybe a few others... I mostly picked stuff up on my own."
"Oh...." the clerk says mysteriously. "Here is your permit."
Joseph accepts the piece of parchment and briefly looks it over before folding it up and placing it in his pocket.
All done, then? Shall we go?
She turns away from the desk and heads towards the exit.
[to Elsewhere]
*Drops a note off on his way out at the desk addressed to his mentor.*
_______________________________________
*I will be neglecting my studies today to spend some time in prayer as well as take a break to collect myself. I fully plan to make it up.*
~Tynk Waverstone
_______________________________________
To Natala's
*A very pensive Tynk nearly forgets to say hello to the clerck as he enters and shuffles to his room.*
Marco: "Eh-hem..."
"Oh, Marco. I haven't seen you in a while."
Marco: "Yes, I have just returned from a short journey. Are you keeping to your studies?
"Mostly, except for today...forgive me for being short, I have a lot on my mind."
*The boy nods once and quickly turns to make his way to his room, leaving Marco to scratch his head and shrug.*
Marco: "Goodnight Tynk..."
*Once in his room Tynk is thankful his roomate is absent, probebly pulling a late study for the test on alternative components tommorow. Tynk is also thanbkful he took that test early and is done with it.*
*He sets to studying his spellbook for some time, keeping himself busy as apposed to thinking too much about recent events. Eventually though, he has his fill and finds himself pondering these events until he falls asleep.*
.oO(Why father...why did you not tell me?)
*Finally having caught up with his studies Tynk gathers some things and his staff on his way out, leaving a message at the desk.*
"I will be at my grandmothers house for the evening, and may return somewhat late."
*He exits...*
To Elsewhere
The young mage runs the spell through his mind a few times, muttering the words under his breath until he can almost feel the magic build up behind them, almost pulsing through the intricate pattern he holds in his mind.
With the pattern of the spell vivid in his mind Cassius grabs a piece of paper and starts to work on the outline of the tattoo design he has in mind........
Suddenly, Tycho looks up from the book he had been reading. Stretching his arms and fingers, he blinks, confused.
.oO(I feel like I am waking from a dream, as if I have been sleepwalking the past days. That cannot be good, I should keep my wits about me. At least I got a lot done... I think.)
Feeling quite hungry, he goes to the refectory for a bite to eat.
.oO(I am glad I left early enough to have time in the day to include finding this place.)
To Weatherby's
.oO(I should find this Tynk. He was supposed to be a student here, too. I have not heard of him other than from Natala.... who was his master? Cione, I think she said. If I want to find him, thats where I have to start.)
Heading of in search of Master Cione, it does not take too long for Tycho to locate his office.
"Master, I m sorry to bother you, but I am looking for one of your students. His name is Tynk."
Master Cione: "Tynk, yes. He is one of my students. He left a note saying he took this day off, I am not sure where he is. With a bit of luck he should be back in the evening."
"I see, sir. Thank you. Could you tell me where his dormitory is, so I can leave a note for hin?"
On being directed, Tycho thanks Master Cione and goes back to his own room to pen a note. Taking it to Tynk's room, he leaves it prominently on the desk.
Goodman Tynk,
My name is Tycho Eharb. Like you, I am a student here at the Hightower. A few days ago, I spoke to Mistress Natala and asked her for a place to work in her store. She graciously agreed to take me on as a part time manufacturer of various alchemical substances if I received permission from my master here at the 'Tower. She said I was to talk to you, presumably to get to know each other and to schedual a day I can begin work. If you have a free moment today or tomorrow, or any time soon, I would like to speak with you.
Tycho
.oO(Right. Better get back to my studies on the subtlties of Conjuration.)
Joseph walked into the entry hall and over to the clerk.
"Excuse me, could you do me a favor, I need to speak to an acquaintance staying here at the tower. His name is Tycho Eharb. Could you request his presence for me?"
Man: "Are you Master Kotov's student, Tycho?"
"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?"
Man: "There is a young man asking for you in the entry hall. He says he knows you."
"Really? I wonder who that could be. I'll be along shortly."
The man leaves, and Tycho cleans the quill tip and scatters a pinch of sand over the paper he was working on. Then he files his work away, and heads toward the entry hall. On arriving, he sees Joseph waiting by the reception desk. Tycho walks up to him and extends his hand in greeting.
"Hello, Joseph. Bored of singing in bars already, do you want to learn to be a mage?"
"Become a wizard? I think I'll pass for now... Nah, I'm hear to enlist your aid. But first I have to know what your view of theft is. Is it really stealing if all you only take what was taken from you?" Joseph asked.
"A horse, an old draft that belonged to my father, was taken from me before I came to the city. I haven't been able to get over it. You want to help?" he asked.
"I'll be gathering the others at the Last Lich Inn soemtime soon, I'll come by or somehow get a message to you meet us there."
"I hear it is cold this time of year, so you might want to invest in something for that. Imagine writing scrolls without a few of your fingers." He laughed.
"I'll see you later then," he shrugged.
Joseph thanked Tycho for his time and headed out of the tower.
[to Elsewhere]
Dear Son,
...
[OOC: I will write it tomorrow, when I'm not tired and can actually think straight.]
[to Elsewhere]
Crebain and just how is locking ourselves in a dark, dank cellar going to help us walk about in the sunlight……
Cassius As I told you Crebain………..I …..need ….to ……empty my brain……..I’ve been thinking………on an design…….for the tattoo……won’t come to mind……..to preoccupied………
Crebain Hmmpf if you want to empty your brain, why go through al this trouble…..There was nothing there to begin with, Craaoo, craaoo
Cassius ……….enough, besides…need the stamina for the act………no good to collapse halfway through……..
Cassius snaps the staff in a defensive position in front of him, then rests the but of the staff on the floor. He takes a rag from one of the pegs on the wall and dries himself before taking a few sips of water. He takes a few moments to regain his breath then leaves the room, heading for his private quarters.
Crebain Oh I see, a little criticism and we quit ‘ey? Humans, who needs them…
Cassius Enough Crebain, people might hear you out here, if you want to talk you can revert to chitter, I’ll understand you anyway, but for your information my black feathered friend, I have got the design worked out so it’s time to start working again.
Cassius checks over his equipment one more time then starts to read from the book, mumbling to himself, following his own instructions step by step, preparing the needles and inks in the prescribed manner laying them out in a specific pattern. With a dagger he carefully shaves the hair from the back of his left arm. Then he takes the thinnest needle and starts to draw his own rune in the flesh of his arm. The sharp sting of the needle in his flesh takes his breath for a second dulling rapidly.
Time slips away as Cassius works dilligently and the tattoo on his arm slowly takes shape, a stylized bull over his mage rune, linked with the main arcane symbols for the spell.
[from Last Lich Inn]
Tycho got back from the Inn and went back to work. Unable to focus very much on his work, he spend much of his time thinking about the bard and his mission.
"Yes?"
Voice behind door: "I have a letter for student Tycho Eharb."
"I am Tycho. Come in."
The door opens and a man walks in. Tycho recognises him as one of the people who works in the reception.
Receptionist: "Here you are, sir. A scruffy young lad delivered it to us at the reception. He said it was from your father."
"How odd. I do not know how he got hold of me here, I know I have not had time to send them a letter yet. No matter, maybe it came via my old mentor."
Tycho takes the letter held out by the clerk.
"Thank you. Did the lad leave? I would like to give him something for his trouble."
Receptionist: "I am sorry sir, he left as soon as he had given it to us."
"Well, no matter. Thank you again."
Tycho turns away from the receptionist and places the letter on the desk. At this dismissal, the man leaves and gently closes the door behind him. Tycho breaks the cheap seal and starst to read, checking that it is indeed the letter he wrote.
Dear Son,
I do not know if this will reach you, what with you wandering about with that old man. I hope that it does. Your Mother and I want you to know that we are not angry or dissapointed with your decision, only sad that you had to leave so unexpectedly. Wizarding is not what we had in mind for you, but if it is your choice then so be it.
You have to come home, Son. Your Mother and youngest sister were out picking mushrooms. They never came back. A small group of deserters from some army have them, and several others, as hostages for our good behaviour as they live of our food. You know how small the Guard here is. There are more Guards than deserters, but most of them have at least one family member among the hostages. No one dares do anything. We ran a mage out of town just after you left, some people thought you had been taken by one and were angry. Now, none who could help us come here. The local church will not help us, you know what the followers of Kakodemmion are like. I wish we had run them out of town rather than that mage.
Please, Son, come help us. Your mentor Citume has written to us twice without you knowing, and he tells us you are accomplished for one who has not studied a long time. You could give the rest of them the courage to act. We need you.
Lovingly, Samuel Eharb.
Tycho sits awhile staring at the letter. The he abrubtly rises, takes the letter, and goes in search if Master Kotov.
[to Last Lich Inn]
Again, Tycho goes in search of Master Kotov. Finding the door to Master Kotov's office, Tycho knocks twice and waits.
"Eharb," Kotov acknowledges him with a nod, "What brings you to see me?"
"A wizard never leaves a debt unpaid," he says, turning away again.
"Just remember your obligations here. I expect you to find ways to continue your studies during your absence, and you will have some catching up to do when you return. If you are not back by the end of the week, I expect word from you, then and every week thereafter.
"Do what you must, and return quickly. Oh, and do not let me find out that this is an excuse to take a vacation, Eharb. You've no wish to incur that debt."
"Thank you, sir. Thank you."
Bowing slightly, Tycho takes his leave. Halfway through the door, he turns toward Master Kotov for a dew seconds, then leaves and closes the door after him. Pausing for a while outside the office, Tycho takes a few breaths.
.oO(That went well. It is lucky I came to my senses and told the truth.)
Taking the letter out of his pocket, Tycho shreds it and dumps it in a fire on his way out. He then goes back to the Last Lich Inn to find Joseph Kell and tell him the good news.
[to LLI]
Then he takes the components for the spell to grant him the strength of a bull. Mixing the powdered bullshorn with dragons grease he creates an ointment that he carefully rubs over the new tattoo on his arm, making sure to cover the tattoo completly then he starts to Cast the spell, focussing the energy on the symbols on his arm. Cassius repeats the words and the gestures for the spell untill he feels the familiar tingle as the magical energy starts to course through his body.
Almost breathless he awaits the surge of searing pain that will tell him that the grafting of magic on flesh has worked again
[i]Apprentice Tycho:
Thank-you for contacting me and your consideration of my time. Indeed, an assistant is what we need at the shop to keep up with increasing buisness as of late, and I would be happy to spend a day out of each week teaching you what I know.
Unfortunately, as of late I have been terribly busy on important personal manners. I expect I should be done soon, but when...I wont know until shortly. Please bear with me and we can begin your job with us.
If Natala hired you that speaks a lot for you. Congradulations and welcome to the buisness.
Keep on your studies in the meantime, and be certain you are clear with your mentor on the specifics. I will inform you of when we can possibly begin when I have a better idea of my current situation.
Take-care Tycho
Sincerely:
~Tynk
Bringing the gear he bought Tycho goes to his rooms to sort and pack properly. He fills his spare waterskins and packs away his travellers outfit, the food, the pot, his flint and steel and his bedroll with thew waterskins in his backpack.
He also decides to change his spell selection, forgetting Unseen Servant and memorising Ray of Enfeeblement. As he finishes for the day, he sees the letter from Tynk.
.oO(Oh, I had almost forgotten about that. "Personal business", what great luck, just as I am going away for the same reason. Ah well, it cannot be helped.)
Penning a hasty response Tycho delivers it to Tynk's room.
Tynk,
Unfortunatly I too have some urgent personal business to take care of. I expect I will only be gone a week, but that depends on weather and luck, as always.
Tycho
*hurrying up the steps, then through the door and across the lobby to the stairs, Mirielle sketches a wave to some friends, but does not slacken her pace*
*she jogs up the stairs, pausing only when she reaches Master Cione's offices, where she takes a breath and raps on his door*
.oO(I'm glad I was able to heal the bruise on my chin. I wouldn't want to try to explain that!)
Good afternoon, sir, it's Mirielle Dyer.
A rattling sound is followed by his reply, "Ah, M-miss Dyer, come in."
Mirielle opens the door cautiously, then enters, Ixchal twining around her ankles.
Thank you for seeing me, Master Cione. I find myself in need of your advice.
The mage peers at her, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
"No b-bungled demon-summonings, I hope?"
Unable to suppress a giggle, she assures him it is no such matter.
No sir, I'm just feeling very... overwhelmed. My fiance does help a bit around the house, but he's training Jackals at the Palace as well as carrying out his responsibilities to the guild and the Church, and even with a cleaning lady once a week it's just terribly hard to maintain a house and keep up with my work, especially since I'm trying to build up a supply of useful potions... You know how much scrubbing is involved in brewing potions!
Holding up her hands, she adds, I don't for a minute regret buying a house with Gamis! We're getting married, and we're very happy together.
It's just... I need help.
Her hands fall to her lap, and she trails off helplessly.
"Er, yes, well..."
He glances side to side, then shuffles some papers on his desk.
"Well... "
He freezes, then pulls out a slightly dirty sheet of paper, looking it over.
"Ah, heh. As a m-matter of fact, I believe I do have a suggestion.
An apprentice."
Miri's eyes widen.
"He's too young, really, to take on in the Hightower, but his mother is quite insistent and... well."
Cione takes on a more businesslike tone. "In any case, he's ten, knows his letters, and you'll just need to feed and house him. Teach him the basics, the guild will provide for his clothing needs, and make sure you give him back ready for a formal apprenticeship in two years."
He shoots a mock glare at Mirielle.
"Alive."
Y-yes sir!
She swallows hard and stands up.
Ah, what is his name, and where will I find him?
He looks at the paper again. "Perry. His name is Perry Paolini, and his mother does embroidery on Quail Street, near the river."
Mirielle nods and assures Master Cione that she will not abuse her apprentice, and takes her leave.
.oO(An apprentice!)
.oO(The crazy bard should come and get me once he is ready to leave. I hope he comes soon, the faster we do this the faster I can get back.)
After doing the packing and delivering the note, Tycho settles down to wait. Going through the provisions once more, he makes sure everything is in order.
.oO(Hopefully I will be able to work some alchemy once we get back, I know I need the money now more than ever. Why don't I work some on that now, the crazy bard won't be on time...)
Leaving a note on his desk in the room for Joseph or any messenger saying where he is, Tycho finds an empty alchemy laboratory. Reviewing what he knows on the subject, he realises that a few bottles of Alchemist's Fire or a few Tindertwigs will come in handy on their trek.
.oO(I wonder how much I have time to make before Joseph Kell actually shows up.)
Making a bet with himself that he will be able to make several bottles of alchemist's fire and a large number of tindertwigs, Tycho makes an inventory of what he will need in his head. Knowing that much of what he needs is available as provided materials in the lab and all the rest at Natala's Mystic Store, he gets to work.
Alchemy modifier +11, check 21
OOC: Tycho makes ten tindertwigs(five hours forty-five minutes), two bottles of alchemists's fire (twenty-four hours) and one bottle of acid (seven hours 40 minutes). All told it takes just under five days.
Cost to create all that is 20 gold pieces.
[to Last Lich Inn]
[from Elsewhere]
Joseph walked in slowly so he wouldn't tax the endurance of his halfling coho.. companion.
With his stump concealed in his cape, he strode over to the clerk.
"Good morning sir, I'm looking for Tycho Eharb, is he in?"
Now I know Tycho vacated the premises on the 6th... but that is like three days...
As he was finishing some reading, Tycho was interupted by a knock on the door.
"Yes!"
From behind the door: "There is a man asking for you at the entrance. He didn't give a name."
"I see. Tell him I will be right there."
Getting up from the chair and stretching, Tycho marked his position in the book and placed it on the table. As e walked to the entrance, he dwelled on some of the strange ideas the book proposed. When he arrived, Tycho saw Joseph standing by the wall and walked up to him.
"Where on Ordemetrex green earth have you been for the past several days?"
He paused.
"Let's go find Julia, then we will hit the road..."
"Tycho, Halandar. Halandar, Tycho."
[to the Church of Agathalos]
.oO(The other guy? ...)
"Well, nice to meet you, Halander. We better get going, if we are to be told anything."
[to Church of Agathalos]
when his hands are clean, Cassius takes the bound volume and heads for the tower library......
oO( Strange the way the passages of the tower seem to become shorter once you get to know them)
*Calmly Cassius pushes the door to the library open and heads for the librarian on duty*
Quietly so as not to disturb other readers Cassius adresses the Librarian.
"Excuse me, could you tell me what the proper procedure would be if I wanted to add a book to the collecetion of the tower Library?"
"Weren't you commissioned to produce the tome in the first place? Give it here, lad, and I'll be sure to send word on to the masters."
.oO(Quiet a remarkablely dull place they have here. I can smell the dust and grime from here.)
However she refrains from showing her disgust and walks up to the clerk.
May I help you? comes the nasal sounding voice of the clerk.
Yes, my companions and I recently came across some items that we could not properly identify while on our travels. Some of them have magical auras about them. Also we seemed to have recovered a book of arcana, the mage that is belonged to no longer needs it where he is.
Please fill out these forms entirely, and I mean it. The dull face of the clerk now glaring.
Items to be identified
Bracers with a moderate aura
Three vials one with a mild aura the other normal
(Glove and Rapier if they detected magical)
One book of arcana.
Given
500gp to cover Hightower expenses to identify the items
Contact information
Silmarwen Ancalímon
advisor for
Sir Darkar Shadowood Commander of the Jackal Knights
I have completed the paperwork and signed in the proper places indicated. Now you need to initial where each I listed each item.
The clerk is amazed slightly that someone actually read the paperwork and filed it correctly. Silmarwen hands him a bag of gold containing about 500gp
I hope that covers expenses to identitfy the items. If more than 500gp is needed send word to Jackal Compound and I will return with more gold.
We will contact you when the items have been identified. I- we will expect prompt pick up.
Silmarwen turns and leaves.
.oO(Such a pompous annoying little man..... )
She takes back all of the items that were supposed to be identified, thanking the clerk on duty for the quickness of service.
Also she inquires about the finders fee for the book since it was not discussed in the letter.
Kywyn steps into the Hightower, asking to get a trinket identified for properties. He shows a ring with a stylized cat design on it.
He leaves a bag of coin to cover the cost of the procedure, as well as contact information on the proper forms. He also inquires if the Hightower purchases scrolls as he has one or two he is willing to part with.
With that, Kywyn leaves as suddenly as he came.
---
[To Elsewhere]
A grey-cloaked figure walks into the Hightower to pick up an item and some information.
Finding what he came for, Kywyn strides back onto the street and back in the direction of the market.
---
[To Elsewhere]
Tagg comes across the tower of wizardry, not hard to distinguish the extravagent building amonst the rest. Entering, he takes a look around before approaching the clerk at the front desk, who seems to give the elf a funny look.
"Hello.."
"I'm looking for Ulerian, I'm dropping off some goods for him."
"Hrm.. we usually don't interrupt our apprentices from their studies for trivial.. Leave your 'goods' here and I will give them to Ulerian when he next comes down."
"Alright.."
Tagg leaves a bag of spice, a bar of precious metal, and a few coins with the clerk for deliverance to the mage. His business done, he exits the tower and goes on his way to the market to exchage his share into a more easily usable form.
[left equivalency of 59 gp for Ulerian]
[to Market Square.. still several weeks behind standard time]
I'll just get this settled, then meet you at home, darling. It could take a while, and I don't want you to have to stand around and wait.
Speaking to the mage walking alongside her down the stairs, she is saying, Yes, and they make the strangest sort of hooting growl, like they can't decide what they are or what they sound like... If they weren't so terrifying, you'd laugh, thinking they're about to go into a coughing fit!
No, I don't think I'd be laughing...
She reaches the ground floor and waves goodbye. Well, I'll see you tomorrow in the lab!
Mirielle heads for home, already focusing on the hot bath she's been promised.
Originally posted by Shatteredtower
"Mister... Gaia, wasn't it?" asks the librarian.
"Weren't you commissioned to produce the tome in the first place? Give it here, lad, and I'll be sure to send word on to the masters."
Cassius hands over the tome, almost reluctantly to part with his work. Once the tome is out of his hands cassius lets out a sigh of relief. The work is done.
"here you go sir, I hope many mages will profit from this work."
"now that I am here, is there ought I can do for you sir"
An occasional "Tsk!" is followed by the waggling of a finger or by quickly jotting a note on a nearby sheet of parchment.
Approaching the Hightower dressed atypically in blanched colors, Kywyn enters the large doors of the tall structure and waits for a clerk. This place always made him feel on edge. Many links lead here that were always unresolved. The ranger Cypress who Kywyn knew from his youth had disappeared somewhere within these floors. The mage Cassius who Kywyn was told was somehow linked to his visions probably dwells here as well.
All broken links. The Tower is full of them.
"I have a license, but I thought I might need to update it," Kywyn says evenly when spotting someone.
"Oh. Yes. You've manifested new talents, I gather? May I see your license, and can you describe the results?"
The clerk turns to open a sizable tome, opening it to one side of him.
"Most recently I've found I can focus a tendril of force to keep things back by exerting a resistance. And when bringing out the power in letters and symbols, I think I can make them speak rather than just explode."
"The powers in my hands continued to advance naturally, it seems as well. Slightly more strength in it last time I had to use them outside the city. I believe that covers it."
He is purposefully vague about the dark touch powers and logically does not mention anything about his Avowed-inspired transformation.
An apprentice is sent to summon an older woman, and the abilities are explained as Kywyn described them.
"I don't recognize the first of the two talents, but wouldn't the second spell be considered a hazard?" the clerk asks.
"Yes," she answers, "A minor one, but it does fit within that category. Now, as for the other spell..."
She looks at Kywyn and smiles reassuringly.
"Sir, would you mind manifesting this tendril for us? It will help us to gauge the precise power of the ability, you see."
He adjusts his left gauntlet and intones his focusing words in an emanating mumur.
"These are my dreams... that I've never lived before..."
His fingers curl into a claw as the ghostly tentacle extends from his wrist to hang in the air.
"I can keep targeted on something," Kywyn says softly as the Hex Tongue stretches forth and forms a tangle, "And hold it back."
"I am the threat. Hold me back."
She snaps her fingers at one of the younger wizards.
"Ruel! Your club -- give it here."
The young man hastily fumbles the cudgel from his belt and passes it over.
"Thank you. Now, to the test!"
She continues toward the sorcerer, seemingly prepared to strike.
Seeing the club, he concludes, "Ah."
Moving his hand in a small circle, the translucent black tendril takes on a helix shape and shifts into a floating tangle in front of the woman to slow her down.
"Yes, all right..."
She backs away, and turns to the clerk.
"You'll likely find a similar phenomenon in the section on evocations; here, let me find it for you."
The pair leaf through the tome, with the older of the two showing the clerk the relevant section, pointing out characteristics.
"Thank you, Mistress Becque," says the clerk.
"Mr. Liew, it will be necessary to upgrade your license, but it's just a matter of adjusting the fee. Let me see here... how much did you pay so far...?"
The clerk browses through another ledger.
The tendril retracts into Kywyn's hand. He looks in his satchel to see if he has the coin for the fee adjustment.
"I also had another question. Are there sessions or classes offered through the Hightower for children? Learning in some elementary subjects, something like an introduction to the natural sciences or simple mathematics?" Kywyn hazards a guess at what wizards might be able to teach here.
"How much do I need for the permit?"
"The deposit will continue to roll over annually, so long as you refrain from destructive acts within the city or its environs.
After receiving the new license, Kywyn turns to leave.
---
[To Elsewhere]
As they continue to walk Tirsori continues to talk about Hightower, "...although the guard protect the city, the Hightower is can and will handle all cases of magical crime and their authority in such cases supercede the normal city laws."
"So they can basically do whatever they want to stop anyone unlawfully using magic?" Dravenous face shows some concern when Tirsori nods her head. .oO(Well that is just lovely. I better stay out of the way when people start burning down parts of the city, I don't want to get fried by anyone allowed to break the law to stop someone.)
As they approach the tower Dravenous has a dark feeling in his chest. The stone tower must be at least seven or eight stories tall and has three smaller towers around it. Mages can be seen walking in and out of the towers and along walkways connecting the main tower to the smaller towers. Dravenous starts to quiver with fear at thought of having to fight even one of mages here.
Tirsori looks back at Dravenous with a quizzical look. "Why, are you uncomfortable around mages?"
"Not just mages, I am afraid of any large group of people that can have me lying dead on the ground within a few seconds. Whether it is with shortsword, crossbow, or magical talent doesn't matter if I'm dead."
"And you decided to become a guard because of your amazing bravery?"
"I will do what I have to do to live and what is required by the guard, but I can't just ignore my fears."
"Well I believe we seen enough of the city for today. I will show you the way back to the chapterhouse now maybe you will be more comfortable there," Tirsori turned away from the tower and began to walk back to the guardhouse, "Unless you would rather stay here."
Dravenous hurrys behind Tirsori at hearing his other option, "Following you corporal."
[To City Guard Chapterhouse]
The note says:
Master, I am back. I appologize for leaving so abrubtly. If there are any pressing matters you wish me to tend, list them and I will comply.
U
*He goes to the front desk, and smiles at the clerk*
"Hi...would Mrs. Mirielle be in?"
Clerk: "Dame Mirielle?"
"Ah...yes."
Clerk: "No, but I could leave a message for her..."
"Thanks. Tell her that Aric stopped by, to speak to her about something to be created."
Clerk: "Alright. Will do."
"Thanks."
*Aric nods to the clerk, and walks back out the door*
Tynk enters and sets straight to business. He gathers his messages, scheduals an appointment with Master Cione, and sets his return to the advanced lessons to being in two-days.
Slightly abashed at the worn shape he is in, he goes immediately about making himself a presentable member of this tower. Once finished bathing, shaving, cliping nails, scrubbing dried-blood off his person, and re-braiding his waist-length hair, he dresses in his scholar's robes and fixes his silver sword pin.
Not stopping to rest he goes about gathering his things and filling his money pouch, grabbing his staff on the way out.
. o O (I am glad my roomate is not here...)
Soon enough he is down the stairs and on his way out the door, his stomache reminding him of his first order of buisness.
Later that evening he returns, tired from getting so many things done. Having already eaten dinner, he sets straight to washing up before sleep.
The next day he if out the door early.
[To many places before ending up in Beyond the Walls}
"Tynk!"
Approaches the elven Jackal and greets him with a warm handshake.
"Darkar, it is good to see you well!"
"My recent endevours allow me the option to afford buying us both lunch. Would you care to sit and talk a little?"
"Hm, I like the gloves too. You chose well, these will do fine. I expect it to take a few days, but will make the time for them as soon as possible."
With the items and coin secure he informs the front-desk of his service he will be providing and promises the tower's share.
"Ready?" He says as he approaches Darkar.
To Last Lich Inn
Looks bit confused as the clerk stands up and leaves the entrance hall. Stays there to wait for him to return. Half an hour passes without a single person entering the hall, which is empty except for Codrian.
Bit frustrated, wanders around the hall and sits on a bench near the desk. Is about to stand up and leave, when the clerk returns and sits behind the desk.
"Yes? You had some business here, master half-elf?"
Walks to the desk and glares at the clerk.
I do, as I still think your guild is interested about this city's spellcasters. Or am I mistaken?
"We still do that. What, are you here to mock our establishment, which has long glorious history, or do you even perhaps have something to say that is worth of my attention?"
Says a person who just gets up and vanishes for an hour.
"And what do you think you know about wizards' business, master?"
Not enough, obviously, to understand that stunt.
"Do I have to call someone to throw you out?"
No need, if you stay put for next couple of minutes.
"Fine, speak then. But be warned, one deviation and you're out of here."
Okay. My name's Codrian Enelevin. Now, I'm here to update your information about my spellcasting abilities. I haven't advanced much in my studies, but my understanding is that the Tower likes to keep track of what each one of us can do.
Now, recently I learned to cast a spell that allows me to shoot a fiery lance at an enemy close by. About 10 yards distant or so, to be exact.
The clerk looks something from one of the books on the table and nods. Then he scribbles something down to second ledger.
"I believe that one is known more commonly as Scorching Ray. And thanks, Mr Enelevin. Even though you sorely could use a lesson in workings of the guild. Maybe take break from your studies to learn something else."
Good bye.
"Good day to you, Mr Enelevin."
Heads to marketplace.
"Yes, Zap. This is home."
Zap: "Good. Let's eat."
"..."
The mage enters the building and seeing the front desk empty he pulls his notebook out and begins reviewing the subjects he'll be attending to the comming immediate weeks.
A good half-hour later he looks up from his notes to see an unfamiliar face working the desk. Getting up he stretches and places his book away before heading over to the desk and waiting politely a few steps away from it until she finishes her current focus.
When she looks up to him, he steps forward and smiles lightly.
"Hi. Tynk Waverstone, apprentice to Master Cione."
"I have new spells to report and a license I believe should already be processed."
When promted, the mage lists the newer spells since last repoted.
"Also, I had requested yesterday a meeting with my mentor. I was hoping his schedual would permit me council. The matter is not urgent, but does hold a degree of priority."
"Could I beg of your time to check on his soonest availibility?"
She sighs.
"And you must know where his chambers are, surely?"
Once he is cleaned up and presentable he is at the door, not hesitating to knock.
When and if bidden he enters, closing the door behind him once inside.
"Say hi, Zap."
The bullet-headed lizard snaps a spark between her horns as she jumps lightly out of the bag.
"I will need to license her, and ask your guidance on having her around as I go about the city. I have considered researching an enchantment to place on a piece of jewelry to allow her to turn invisible at will, but wish to know if it is necesary to even do so."
Zap gets bored and begins to poke around the room, licking the air here and there. She spot a wand leaning against the side of the master's desk and takes and interest.
"Weeell... mmm... it's not the sort of creature people see every day, no. Then again... then again, your typical familiar only looks like the sort of creature people see all the time, isn't that right? I would recommend a collar that identifies... Zap as your familiar, and that should suffice as long as..."
He seems to lose focus for a moment as he and the lizard look at each other.
"... Zap isn't allowed to stray far from you. Perhaps a leash as well, so you don't make people too nervous. Now as for the invisibility, it's... a fine way to offer protection to one bonded to you, but it is also a very expensive and difficult process to produce items capable of granting it on a continuous basis. You've certainly learned a lot in the time you've been here, Tynk, but I don't think you've yet reached the point w-where you can ... produce such an item yourself.
"It's still a very good idea, of course. It shouldn't prove necessary in the city, unless someone wishes to steal Zap, but I doubt either of you'd allow that to happen. If you should both run into danger somewhere else, you can make both of yourselves invisible quite easily, so long as you stay close together. A leash would be a good idea for that reason as well, since... well, nothing p-personal, Zap, but I don't think Tynk's strong enough to carry you around all day -- at least, at least not without putting some strain on himself.
"The druid certainly sounds l-like an unpleasant fellow. After you... you are a sensitive soul, Tynk, and I know that you are adverse to causing harm yourself, but... w-well, there's no easy way to ask this, is there? After you drew lightning and cast it against this Beneveril..."
He frowns.
"Benlevir, excuse me. How do you feel about what you had to do, Tynk?"
Hello? I'm looking for information on magic.
Tyros awaits for someone to answer his calls.
"I felt that I...I had to do something. This druid was cutting my friend down before my eyes, and there was nothing else I could think of."
"I was angry at the druid, for forcing me to come to this decision. I felt bad for being angry at him.
"In no way did the act feel good, but it did feel necessary."
"And I did feel something when I had struck him, such that even the glancing blow caused the druid enough pain to focus on me a moment with the look of utter malice. Never before was I so afraid."
He says this somewhat nuetraly, as if the journey home was enough to heal the wound. However, in the expression the slight of a scar is seen.
"I kept my consentration enough to mimic another casting of the lightning while he saw me and instead activated a protection from my staff, preparing for his possible attention. My body seemed to act of it's own accord, and I watched the final result in horror."
Pauses, and his voice lowers some as he looks down.
"I wanted to vomit, that such a fate should befall an individual with possibly just goals clouded by a lust for power and control to make right a percieved wrong."
"Sometimes..." he ventures cautiously, "...sometimes we lose sight of our goals as we pursue them. I've never fully understood the druids. It is as though they have been charged with protecting our Mother's creation from the forces of change we bring to the world, but She seems to grant them great diversity in how they carry out that duty. Some would seem to favour Demmion, others Thalos, and others seem oblivious to all of the children of the world.
"I don't understand them, but I understand this: it is dangerous to become obsessed with your duty above all things. The same can be said of an ideal; they're important, and never forget why you have them. It's not, not always easy to avoid compromising them.
"You don't want to hurt people, and that's commendable. "Do no harm," is a noble foundation for a moral code, but is it enough? The Lightbringers of Thalos do not hold with it, for example -- to them, evil is to be given no quarter. More moderate followers of the Father of the Dawn tend to be less confrontational on the matter; to them, what matters is that wrongs are set aright. If that means the guilty must be slain, so be it, but the will not decline redemption as a means to achieving what they feel is right.
"What price will you pay to keep blood off your hands, Tynk? Will you allow your friends to shed it on your behalf so that you may remain clean? Would you allow their blood to be shed for the same cause? Is it a matter of doing no harm or minimizing the harm done?
"I'm afraid I have no answers to these questions. They're not for me to answer anyway, are they?"
"Could you... please be a bit more specific? What is it that you wished to know about magic and why? Were you looking for tutelage? Were you looking to hire a wizard? Did you find some trinket you think might be magical and hope we could identify it for you? Have you found a recovered materials that you were hoping we could decipher? Am I getting close here? Please, explain what you mean, and... it's been a slow day, so take your time and be thorough. The more I know, the better I might be able to help you find an answer."
He regains quickly though, after a note at the top of his mental 'to-do' list.
"Your wisdom impresses me, mentor. I did not previously think it would have been you to say something I had needed to hear."
"I shall meditate on this, and do my best to never forget."
Zap snaps loud and jumps far back from a mirror, making a mess out of a small stack of books.
"She is quite new to civilized life, as you can see."
Casts and operates a cantrip to pick the books up and set them straight as he patiently keeps his ear to his master's words.
[Mage Hand]
"Ah... eh... Tynk, isn't that what a mentor is supposed to do? Thank you, I think."
I'd like to know what magic is. A priest of the temple of Ordemetrex told me that sometimes the Mother appears in this world through magic cast by her followers. But I don't know what magic is, since my father never explained me what that was.
Tyros looks at the clerk with curiosity in his eyes.
Well, let's say that magic is a kind of force, even if not a natural one. It's a force that allows a weilder of such art to do things that he normally couldn't by natural means. Or maybe he knows of another creature of object that can do such things but he himself does not have that quality and thus, through magic, he can achieve it. For example: normally you can't control fire as much as you'd like. The most you can do is simply make it happen and even for that you need wood or something inflamable but with magic, one can turn fire into a powerfull "throwing weapon", if you will, making a fire ball out of the energies of the world around us. Am I getting through?
Tyros blinks his eyes a few times while trying to sink in the description the clerk is providing him with.
So what you are trying to tell me is that I could fly like a bird with magic? That I could transform myself into other things with magic?
Yes, indeed, you can. You can command objects and creatures and undead. You can injure your enemies with magic and you can create things out of thin air, provided you have the necessary focusing materials, of course.
And what does one need to be able to wield magic?
The wizard thinks for a moment and then answers switftly.
You need to study a lot, read many books which contain the basic and complex theories of magic and spellcasting, you might want a wizard mentor to help you in your initiation of the arts of magic, a spellbook, a license for casting spells and I think that's about it. Anything else?
How does one cast a spell?
Well, I don't think that I should be the one to tell you. If you really are interested in learning how to become a wizard, I sugest you join the Hightower. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to have a word with a friend of mine about the use of arcane magic in ponies.
.oO(Ponies?
)The clerk takes a deep bow and moves along to one of the doors in the side of the hall.
Maybe the Mother can help me with these tricks. Tyros whispers to himself and then leaves the Hightower.
[to Weatherby's]
"I want every piece of it polished. By hand. You will finish the task before you go to bed tonight, and while you're at it, mayhaps it will occur to you just how offensive you were just a moment ago.
"No, don't bother to apologize. It's too late for that now -- I gave you a chance to correct yourself, but you..."
The elder man sighs in exasperation.
"You spend so much time trying to sound impressive every time you open your mouth that you don't put any thought at all into what you actually say, do you?"
Cione shakes his head, looking genuinely wounded.
"Get to it. I'll expect to see you at dawn -- cleaned up, mind you -- ready to go over a few more spells. Prepare your form-shifting spell, but bring your book as well. I want to go over a few other spells you don't know yet."
Tynk is immediately waved off. As he attempts to speak, his mentor raises a hand.
"I don't want to hear it," Cione tells him. "You've said enough for one day. Save it for tomorrow."
OoC: I won't be conducting the lesson or review of new spells, but feel free to cover those (and the disciplinary action) yourself. Sorry for the delay; hopefully, this will also free you up to make a post for the production of Darkar's magic gloves.
Zap:“He does have big snap, knocked you senseless.”
It was true, wearing that shamed expression of one who knows he done wrong and must swim through his own lies to learn how and why he let himself be so foolish. It makes him appear quite young.
When he arrives at his room he stops short of touching the handle and looks at his bag of coal.
. o O (And the fool I would look, my roommate seeing me polish coal...)
He hesitates another second.
. o O (But what is there to hide?)
Following through in entering the room he settles in with an apology to his fellow tenant and puts the lantern out in exchange for candlelight.
A few minutes into the polishing the roommate looks over from his desk and spots the coal.
Trent: “An odd job. Say…” he thinks a moment, “didn’t you say before you were off to meet with Cione. Why’s your face red?”
“…”
“Oh…I see. Why coal though? Is he trying to say something?”
Tynk thinks long about his answer, and surprises himself with what comes out.
“If so, then he had a right to. I insulted his wisdom only because what he spoke of was true.”
Trent politely retires, allowing the young mage time to himself. He works slowly and half-mindedly…polishing. Even after Zap is asleep and the coal is polished to near-perfection he is up a while in bed, thinking to an eventual conclusion.
. o O (He is right, I didn’t want to get my hands dirty. Who would? But why was I so angry at him for saying it to me?)
. o O (Three days and already I need to shave again. Why was I so proud of this hair at first?)
In his lesson Master Cione drills him hard, beginning right away on a demonstration of the weakness of the shape-changing spell he had just learned.
Having been instructed to polymorph into a young blue dragon, Tynk wasn’t surprised to find he could not cough up a weapon of breath as one does no matter how he tried. However he new the elder was getting at something as Zap gives him a hard time, mentally nudging that he looks good in this color.
Cione:"So then what of other forms? Would you make a spark like Zap? Would your wounds mend as a troll’s would? What do your notes say thus far, Tynk, on the distributive ramifications of power made through this particular means of mutative shape-shifting?"
Tynk shrugs two scaled shoulders, noticing again his changed form. He felt awkward, almost naked as his words fall from a dull toothed-mouth (decidedly, for safety) in an awkwardly lower yet subdued tone.
“That what is gained is done so in solely physical ways. That…the size and shape I take must fit the surroundings, especially in more civilized areas…”
. o O (Was that a smile?)
He straightens some to show his attention, giving the form a look of relaxed pride contradictory to those who would know it’s nature.
“But to be honest, I really should learn more about the spell, and acquaint myself with the forms I plan to take in it’s use. This goes with my other spells, for which I still continue to study and observe.”
The older mage nods in satisfaction as the younger one already wears the look of the sense that it gives him.
”Your polishing project seems to show promise. Perhaps this is a lesson that does not need revision, only time will tell. For now be prepared for the next lessons, be them placed upon you or a circumstance of chance.”
“Preparation is truly a wizards greatest ally, Tynk. Remember that as well.”
"...That is all today. I want you to look at those two spells, I think you may have an appreciation for them.”
“…”
"Well? Hop-to!"
Tynk exits the chamber in a calm haste and to his room to make ready for another full day, glancing at the syllabus to see which two spells he is to look up.
. o O (A sonic release and an abjuration which makes skin as hard as stone.)
...To Marketplace[/i]
This is ridiculous! I don't want to waste hours of my time learning boring lists of useless trivia, I simply want a wizard to teach me to cast a few spells before Lady Parisini's garden party!
And I don't want to waste any more of my time explaining to you that you're not going to get a wizard to 'teach you a few spells.' Not without going through a full apprenticeship.
And, frankly, none of the wizards here is likely to take you on. Except maybe Dame Dyer, but she would dissect you, not instruct you.
The youth splutters, rages that 'heads will roll', and stomps for the exit.
"Morning to ye, I was wondering ye would be able ter tell me if this ring has any magical properties. I got it off a troll that I killed on me way back ter Garics."
*Aramil takes off the ring and sets it on the counter/table, then he patiently waits for the mans reply.
The fee for detection of magical auras is 10 silver. Identification of magical properties is 101 gold.
*Aramil shurgs his shoulders and gets out his bag of coins, he fishes out the exact amount of gold and sets it on the counter for the clerk. Then he waits to see if the clerk has anything else to say.
Come back tomorrow, it should be ready for you then.
*Aramil then bows to the clerk and heads back to the SSAG so that he can get to work for the guild, then later on the dwarves and Aramil will work on Mirri's chain shirt.
To Elsewhere
.oO(Now where is that durned clerk.)
*Aramil doesn't see the clerk around, but he does notice a reception desk that is the only place where he can find out about his ring. So he shrugs his shoulders and goes over to the desk. Then he talks to whoever is behind the counter, after bowing to him or her.
"Good day ter ye, I left me ring here yesterday ter have it 'identified' and I was wonderin' if it was avalable ter pick up?"
When Aramil replies, he runs his finger down a column, and grunts.
"Yeah, wait here, I'll get it."
He walks through the door behind the desk, and returns soon with the ring and a sheet of parchment.
"Your ring was enchanted with spells to increase physical ability in jumping."
He stares at the ring, stifling a chuckle.
"Jumping. Sorry to disappoint you, if you were hoping for, say, protection from fire, or something really useful."
"Oh well I'm sure that I will be able ter make use of it somehow. Thank ye."
*Aramil bows to the clerk and takes his ring, he puts his ring on his right finger then heads back to the SSAG.
You should try to fly instead of walking
Good morning. Can you tell me more about that wizard mentor subject you mentioned the last time I was here?
The clerk eyes Tyros's over his half-moon glasses and seems to ponder for a bit, coming to an exclamatory tone of voice after that.
Ah! Yes, I remember you. You wanted to know about magic... Yes. I suppose you would want to know more... evidently you're not the type of person to content itself with few words... Well, the elder mages of the Hightower usually provide tutellage to apprentices so that their path is a safer and maybe easier one. They help the apprentice in their path to achieve greater wisdom through the Arts.
No, no, no. I don't want to learn arts, I want to learn magic. I am happy with the art of mother nature. It suffices.
The clerk laughs in spite of Tyros's evident lack of knowledge in the area.
The Arts are what commoners like you call Magic. But like I was saying, we could put you under the tuttelage of a wizard mentor so that you can learn the... magic ways. How's that?
Tyros looks over to Allerya, stroking her and kissing her softly in the feathery head.
Yes, I would like a mentor to supervise my learning.
Allerya bites Tyros gently in his chin, returning the gesture. The clerk looks down on his books for a while and then turns again to Tyros.
I think that the only wizard that would be available for your case would be Lady Mirielle Dyer. 16 Wildrose.
16 Wildrose? Odd name... Where does she live?
The clerk slaps his forehead in a clear "DUH" expression.
16 Wildrose is her adress. Wildrose street, the 16th house. Got it?
Oh, right... I knew that.
I'll go see her.
Allerya jumps to Tyros's shoulder before he exits the hall, in search of the addressed street.
[To elsewhere]
I hope he's amenable to the training, that's all. He seems terribly... unsophisticated, but I'll do my best.
"I'm sure you will, ah, Miss Dyer. It wouldn't do to have the guild seem, er, unwelcoming to possible students. Even if they... um, are less, ah, shall we say, 'conventional.'"
Yes, sir. Thank you for your time, and I'll keep you apprised of my progress on that spell to enhance my familiar.
Mirielle bows respectfully to Master Cione, and goes downstairs to the lobby, and thence to the street.
To Elsewhere
.oO(Fool.. he revealed himself before his power had risen to its full potential. One must be careful with such matters, and to whom they speak of them to.. Yet, to be overly cautious is folly as well. He simply chose the wrong people to exploit.. and the wrong ones to include in his endeavor. I suspect that is his chief reason for ending up exiled below.. Still, his power was formidable, and I must find any writings he compiled throughout his studies. His vast knowledge will undoubtedly suit my needs… )
Ulerian sips his now cold and bitter tea and reopens the book..
Soon he is seen exiting the Hightower. He hesitates and draws his hood up once again. He also wraps himself tightly in his robes, as if the sun itself shone in cold beams of light as opposed to the warmth most feel.
He awakes hours later as the sun wains, and exits his chamber in short time.
The last thing the paladin remembers is fighting that monster, that sick and twisted bloodtroll. Now, he finds himself laid out on a cold granite examination table. He turns his head sideways to see the lantern lights in the semi-dark room as his eyes refocus.
The tables next to him are littered with all sorts of wizardly equipment: heat bath, scale balance, dung bed, burettes, mortar and pestle, hand centrifuges, and many books and scrolls.
“Gamis!” cries a worried female voice Gamis know well, “You’re alright now... we’re both okay!”
Gamis sits up woozily, it feels like he’s been trampled by a horse. Mirielle rushes to his side to embrace him and help the man turn so his feet touch the smooth floor. The flooring feels oddly warm.
“Wha-what happened, Miri?” Gamis asks weakly, “How did I end up here... is this the Hightower?”
When Gamis looks to his fiancé, he sees how tired and ragged she looks. Her lab apron is covered in strange stains.
”I was so worried,” she rests her head against his chest, ”I thought you had been taken away from me.”
She whispers, ”But... I found a way.”
“Miri, I don’t-” Gamis stutters as he gets up and finds himself standing taller than he should, “What?...”
A mirror hangs on the opposing wall, and Gamis stumbles toward it. Miri steadies him. The reflection resolves, though Gamis suddenly wishes the bloodtroll had taken his eyes.
An aberrant form returns Gamis’s incredulous gaze. He all of a sudden knows all too well what has been done. His physical body is a mangled mix-and-match of parts. The legs are pallid white and too long, the chest is lopsided, and he is certain his right arm once belonged to a... troll...
“Oh, Miri,” Gamis/not-Gamis manages, “What have you done?...”
His blood has been drained, his insides gutted and replaced, his fat rendered away to tallow, his muscles and ligaments severed and sewed back together. He slowly reaches up to his face. It is dry, leather-like, and he feels the stitchwork crisscrossing his once handsome features. His eyes hold a spark of intelligence, and he knows he should not be.
“I-I couldn’t lose you,” Miri utters as if far away.
“I know... but...” Gamis holds her to calm her tears.
They rock back and forth in the lamplight as if dancing at some formal gala.
Gamis finds he has lost the ability to shed tears, but he holds Mirielle tight to comfort them both.
Unaccustomed to his new inhuman strength, and dizzy from whatever enchantments made his parody of life possible, Gamis doesn’t hear Mirielle’s spine crack in his arms until it is too late.
All he can do is keep holding her, waiting for the lights to burn away.
---
Hours pass. How could he still be here, Gamis thinks to himself.
The peculiar flesh golem is hunched in the corner of the lab, wrapped in Miri’s cloak that still smelled like her. He couldn’t even look at the body upon the granite table anymore.
Gamis just listens and waits. Someone would check in sooner or later. He listens for the footsteps he is expecting. And he rubs the mantle against his dead face, realizing the cloth doesn’t smell of anything anymore.
For what? Someone to come? For Miri's process to turn out faulty, only able to sustain him for... however long he's been here... But for it to fail, his eyes to darken, and his soul to be released again? No... He should be so lucky... Maybe he'd see her on the other side again.
He shifts at his next thought, and tendons and stitches creak with the motion. Maybe he wouldn't see her. He was back from the dead, in no way he could see Ordemet sanctioning... Maybe he was damned, while his beloved was with the sun now.
This wasn't fair. The thought entered his morose, embalmed mind, but he pushed it away. Life wasn't fair. He knew that. It hadn't been fair when Conrad Drake practically walked after striking down Jaeger Ugntot in front of the Last Lich. It wasn't fair for all those Jackals to die when the Eternal Flame dug in at Hents Manavelins. He'd seen plenty of unfairness, and it hadn't stopped him. He just dealt with it as best he could.
He should've been more careful. His will should've been stronger, strong enough to push through that haze he'd felt and get him cognizant of the fact he was so much stronger after this revival, so he could know to be careful. He'd been weak, the golem glowered at himself. Weak again, failing again, and now the cost had been the life of his ladylove.
The injustice of it bobbed into his mind again, like an insistant gnat that had swelled to the size of a moquito now. It was his weakness, not hers, or any fault of Miri's--she loved him, she didn't want to lose him; was that so bad? Why should she have died?
There was now a warmth in his core he hadn't noticed before. He felt motivated to stand now, getting heavily to his alien feet. The oversized troll's arm rested its knuckles on the ground still (it was bent almost acutely at the elbow, having plenty of length to spare even when already touching the floor) as he felt out his new balance slightly. The left arm--not his, either--clutched the cloak to his chest possessively.
The lab looked strange as he took it in again in the dark, in its grayscale. The highlights and lowlights on glass and metal, and the shadows, were all strange. The right arm dragged as he lumbered to a table where stills had been arranged in some arcane fashion... He hadn't a clue what Miri had brewed, what the fluids, now all at rest with their heating fires dead, had bubbled in the globes and pipes set on this board.
He turned away from them to explore elsewhere in the lab, still unable to look at the granite slab. A circle had been scribed on the flags of this corner, with certain symbols surrounding its perimeter... A summoning of some sort. Over here was a vat, barely full of liquid now. He peered down into it. His new darkvision and the stillness of the fluid cast his reflection in a surreal light as he beheld it again... It was a monstrous visage that looked back at him. He shuddered and took his eyes away, but not before another surge of frustration made the mosquito of anger swell again, now a deerfly.
Heavy footsteps and a drag of the troll arm every pace brought Gamis to the desk and shelf where books and papers where laid out. He looked down at them for a moment without touching. His throat tightened leatherily as he saw the quill he knew she'd favored. The golem wasn't willing to let the cloak go with his human arm, so he lifted the oversized hand and clawed digits to close one of the book and turn its cover to his dead eyes. He choked again and dropped it as he read the macabre title. He turned away, his eyes falling on an even worse sight.
There in another corner were the... cuttings... from his... donors... If his stomach had been present it surely would have knotted itself, cast iron as it may have been. It made him stumble back and his ankle catch on the desk's leg, tripping him onto his back. She'd been driven to this? All this, and she'd been cheated in the end, her broken body replacing his piecemeal on that damned slab?
His eyes now fell on the ceiling as he seethed before attempting to rise, and he saw the diagram that had been pinned there somehow. The sight elicited a sharp cry from him, and he moved somewhere between a skitter and a shamble backwards, knocking a tall stand onto himself that held up a human skeleton. Its grinning skull with the empty eyes came alarmingly close to his face, and he shoved it away violently. Glass broke--the skeleton must have hit one of the stills--and he felt himself splashed with something that sizzled and burned. He knew pain, and shrieked louder, rising to his feet and lashing violently at the table of glass, sweeping a body of globes and pipes off that broke and shattered under the force of the blow and the motion that carried them to the floor.
The gnat of rage that had become a mosquito and then a deerfly was now a stirge with its stiletto-sharp proboscis and claws buried deeply in his brain. He knew only anger at everything jumping him on each side, and at what this world had done to him and Miri. The table was clear of glass, a perfect open, flat surface. He raised the right fist high over his head and brought it down in the center, cracking the board in two, with the splintered ends in the middle borne to the floor. He roared primally as he destroyed it, then grabbed one half and flung it towards the corner where the picked-over bodies lay, bringing down the bookshelf onto the desk, which both thudded and cracked. He siezed the other half of the table and smashed it against the wall, sending the legs flying. The brazier, next-nearest item, is the next to suffer his rage as it's kicked over to the floor. With nothing else in reach, Gamis falls to his knees. He directs a shriek towards the ceiling that contorts his stitched face again. His eyes can no longer cry, but he can sob dryly, which he does, uncontrollably with his forehead against the floor, his left arm still cradling Miri's cloak and the other curved around his head and body, its own claws digging into his palm. Tears are weak, but how he wishes he could shed them now... Weeping is the only release for the impotent frustration, the grief, and fatigue that's left after his violent rage.
“S’sorry to burst in, Dame Dyer, but you've been down here all day, and the hullabaloo could be heard all the way down the hall. Are you -?”
The scrawny young man in academic robes freezes in the door frame as the macabre sight greets him. The apprentice’s eyes are wide as saucers.
And a part of him burns to set things right. It must have been the bloodtroll that killed him and left Miri no option but to bring him back in this fashion. So he tried to sit up, faltering with stiff knees and instead pushing himself more directly to his feet, right hand braced against the floor.
He notices the apprentice's gaze taking in the destruction in the lab... and especially Miri's body on the table in the center. Panic rushes into him like a waterfall, and he hastens to assure his discoverer. "It's not how it looks," he says quickly.
The apprentice simply stutters something inaudible, takes one step back the turns to a full run away from the lab, shouting at the top of his lungs for rescue.
The newly awakened golem can vaguely hear footsteps approaching from around the corridor’s corner the apprentice was running toward.
---
The footfalls seem to take an eternity to arrive. Three more men run in and stop at the corner. The lead on is dressed in a simple tan outfit, while the two behind him appear to be in their nightclothes.
“Mother of All!” the front wizard prays.
“What is that Professor Carter!?” one of the men in the rear asks the lead.
He doesn’t answer, but instead approaches Gamis cautiously, “If it is what I think it is, it won’t listen to reason. Merle, go get help.. Tell any younger students to stay in their rooms.”
One of the wizards hesitates but soon turns to leave.
---
With the situation deteriorating rapidly, Gamis's thoughts turn to escape. He glances into the lab, looking for a window, then wonders if there's one down the hall behind him.
Despite Gamis’s objection, the wizard addressed as Merle disappears around the corner.
“It-it can talk?” the remaining wizard in nightwear asks the professor.
“Highly unusual,” Carter answers, “Perhaps just some lingering cantrip left by whoever created it. Gods, I hope it was not conceived here, under our very noses. Such as thing shouldn’t have been possible.”
The professor takes a tentative step forward and then another. Obviously not treating Gamis as a sentient being, the man stares only at the apprentice Gamis is holding, who has apparently fainted from the alarm. He dangles limp, but breathing, in Gamis’s troll arm.
.oO(What's going on? Am I in the basement of the Tower?)
He retreats farther, going for the hallway to the rear and looks down either arm of the inverted T it forms, still looking for exit.
The nervous wizard behind him steps forward, "Y-yessir."
“Don’t bother with enchantments, not many will function. I believe the extremes of temperature may slow it down, as it still clings to the biological processes in a twisted fashion,” Carter advises, “Stay behind me. It appears to not have been instructed to attack yet, and we need to get young Andrew out of its clutches first.”
Backing away to the intersection, Gamis sees a dead-end corridor to his left and a staircase that spirals upward to his right. Both paths have a pair of shut, wooden doors on either side of the hallway.
---
He glances once at the door to the lab, longingly. .oO(Miri...) Then he grimaces, sets his jaw, and retreats towards the staircase at a lumbering jog, still carrying the apprentice.
However, the sounds of multiple men climbing the stairs below Gamis pursue relentlessly.
With nowhere to go but up, Gamis finds himself walking for an eternity. Every step looks like the one before it.
At long last, there is a flash of light around the corner in front of him, though all he can see are the stairs winding around.
He sees the flash and his first thought is of daylight and the surface. But he hesitates when he considers who he's dealing with--wizards--and what flashes of light sometimes mean around them. So he's more cautious as he peeks, looking from behind his hostage's fainted form.
How strange. It seems Gamis is now at the utmost zenith on the Hightower. From a small sheltered passage, the stairs lead to an octagonal parapet surrounding the stone floor/roof. There is nothing else that can be seen. In fact, the clouds are all around the tower top. As far as Gamis can see, it’s all dark rain clouds, making the tower seem to be the only structure in existence. Rainwater accumulates within the low walls and some drains down the stairs, though Gamis does not remember seeing any water trickling below.
There is no sign of wizards besides the faint noise behind Gamis in the stairwell.
---
The strange details of this place flicker briefly in his mind, but with pursuit so close behind he doesn't take the time to consider them that strongly. He lumbers to the edge and tries looking down, seeing if he can visually pierce the clouds.
The golem turns away to face the stairway, chewing his leathery lip as the rain drenches him. He takes a few heavy steps forward and places Andrew gently on the ground, then circles around, seeking the back of the stairway's shelter.
Then the swooshing noises come too late as four wizards in hooded robes levitate up from the clouds until they are slightly higher than the tower. The one nearest Gamis calls out, and the others fly to join him, forming a floating semi-circle in front of the flesh golem. The arcane chanting starts instantly and tongues of flaming energy spiral toward Gamis from two of the casters, while blue rays of ice and hoarfrost hurtle into the golem from the other angles.
Mirielle’s cloak and much of Gamis’s meager clothing basically vaporize. Gamis’s enhanced body, however, resists the dynamic shock. Regardless, though unhurt, he feels his limbs seizing up and his motions slowed.
“We must subdue it,” one of the conjurers is heard over the rain.
“Andrew!” the muffled voice of Carter speaks from the opening of the stairs.
Anguished at the loss of his only memento, Gamis lumbers forward despite his restricted mobility. Seeking cover from the spells of the floating wizards, he starts for the way he came in, back down the stairs.
In an improbable turn of events, lightning flashes from above. The fulminating strike connects directly with Gamis. The golem feels the artificial systems and paranormal parts jolted back to vivacity. The current surges through his muscles, granting what might be a last chance to act as the wizards close in.
Carter and Andrew are blown back by the lightning blast, but are caught by the group of wizards behind them on the stairs.
Almost immediately, the sky above clears faster than natural. The heavens are the red of a mature dawn but much brighter in intensity. The plane of cloud below Gamis’s current elevation remains. From this false horizon, the sun begins to rise, granting Gamis a glimpse of warmth and life. Nonetheless, the reprieve is short-lived as something draws Gamis’s attention in the opposite direction. There, in a mirror image, is a second sun rising, blood red and fiery.
Somehow, Gamis senses he may have missed something big.
Come to think of it, did Miri just look tired or did she seem... older?
"G-get Andrew back!" he commands the men behind him.
The four flying aresnals close in around the stairs.
"Do not hesistate!" Carter seems stoically at peace with his fate, "Do the right thing."
Gamis is not sure exactly what happens next, but there is a burning sensation and white, hot, roiling smoke as well as the smell of acid. He can feel the destruction of his body and then things don't seem as urgent anymore.
A final soughing "no..." breezes through his mind before it sinks into its final haze.
. o O (All this time I have studied and possesed the skill and finaly it is time to put it to use.)
In his exhale he begins the incantation that marks to first stage of the enchantment, setting the magical foundation on the puma-furr that will capture the fullness of the animal's sure-footed agility and quick, instinctual reactions.
Next he sprinkles quicksilver over the furr and gloves both, his chanting a murmer now. He continues to do this for some time until the quicksilver is all gone, then takes a break. Zap looks up hopefuly and for a little Tynk plays lightly with her.
Giving the lizard some dried meat to chew on the young man sets back to work.
. o O (The hard part...)
Using a technique similiar to a complex prestidigitation, Tynk begins to work the furr into the fabric of the small gloves. His chanting is now strong and enunciated, the accents intonated with clarity. In his left hand he grasps a petrified eagle's eye, his empty right palm held face down above the left. This continues for quite a while as beads of swet pour down his forhead, until the young mage cannot take it any more and sets his work down for the day.
After a bath and meal he turns in...
The next day he sets straight to work, intent on finishing the elven Jackal's gloves before the day's end. Zap, having learned to be more patient the past week, searches the room and pokes around.
It isn't until evening that the gloves are ready to be tested, and once the divinations prove positive for a minor transmutative property he nods in satifaction.
. o O (My first permanent enchantment, excellent!)
Brushing his hands together he cleans the room of his mess and snatches the gloves up on his way out, holding the door open for Zap to follow.
Cassius, a group of bandits outside the city are raiding and killing merchants. The seem to be able to direct undead to do their bidding, and have a way to have plants tie up their victims. I am looking for some help to counter this problem, and if you are interested contact Darkar of the Jackals as you can. We are planning to leave the city within the next few days.
Leaving the note for Cassius, Darkar then heads out to Kywyn's apartment.
"Excuse me Mr Gaia, someone was here the otherday inquiring after you. He has left a message for you if you are interested."
The clerc hands Cassius the short note. After reading it Cassius turns to face the man
"Thank you good man, it seems an old friend needs my help tp fix a problem."
Cassius dons his usual dark cloak and exits the tower
.oO(I fear I am beyond my wits as to what else lurks beneath the city...)
After three days of studying his notes and staying couped up in his room, he prepares himself and eparts for Nobody's
Oblivious to the others around them, Mirielle walks alongside Xavier, intent on their discussion.
You won't get anywhere with that attitude. Why should we care what anyone else thinks? All that matters in the end is whether or not I reached my goals. The Hightower helps me, I help it, and anything outside that is incidental.
"So this is where they keep all the wizards? Oh ho ho! Let us see if they are ready for Nanashi!"
See how he strides with purpose! Nanashi will have his license today!
.oO(And who will keep Nanashi the Bold out of trouble if I stand out here?)
She follows the gnome swiftly inside.
.oO(At the very least, I should see he gets his license before I return to the boardinghouse.)
Still, her thoughts return impatiently to her sword. Her fingers itch to grasp its hilt, her muscles ache to swing the heavy blade before her.
It pleases Nanashi that his voice echoes around the room the way it does.
"Not another one," mutters the clerk at the front desk.
"Yes, ah, hello?" he calls. "You may have a license here! No need to call out like that again, sir!"
A gnome... interesting.
Talk about 'incidental'...
Perhaps, or perhaps not. It's best not to judge by size, Xavier.
It would help if the desk was just a little lower. Were Nanashi any other gnome, this would have spoiled the effect he'd worked so hard to create, but this is Nanashi! Oh ho! Walking is trivial for one such as him! This oversized desk shall likewise be easily overcome!
"Oh ho ho! Good! A license is exactly what we are here for! One license for Nanashi and one for Esmet, just in case!"
"Nanashi, I doubt I will ever develop a special gift like yours. It would be silly for me to carry around a piece of parchment needlessly, don't you think?"
Raising her eyes back to the clerk, she requests, "Just one license for Nanashi the Relentless, please, sir."
The clerk peers over the counter at the gnome.
"...Master Nanashi the Relentless. For our records, just what can you do, pray tell? Could you perhaps sprout a couple of feet so I might have the privilege of laying eyes on Master Nanashi the Relentless?"
Esmet wrinkles her brow in disapproval of the young man's dry tone. Quietly, she mutters in Gnome, "Nanashi, when you learn how, perhaps you could restore this toad to his true form."
"Oh ho ho! If Nanashi grew as big as you, he could never fill his own belly! Nanashi does not like the idea of going hungry! But Nanashi did not come for dinner or joking around! Let me tell you what Nanashi can do!
"Nanashi can release the Dragon's breath from his fingers, but perhaps he should not give a demonstration with all of the paper you have lying around. He can also make the dead sorry they decided not to stay dead. He knows a spell that can keep people from controlling his mind and maybe even from hitting him over the head.
"He can sense magic and poison-not that anyone would poison Nanashi-and also fix things that break. Nanashi is versatile as well as powerful!
"And Nanashi has finished answering your question."
"Master Nanashi the Versatile and Powerful...
"Fire... Sense magic, poison... Fix broken objects... Protection against mind control, feh, 'mind control,' as if..."
He mumbles something beneath his breath and then, clearing his throat, glances up -- or accurately down -- at the gnome.
"Would you possibly care to elaborate on 'making the dead sorry they decided not to stay dead'?"
"Nanashi would probably wait until they got close enough and just set fire to them anyway."
But Esmet is not tired. No, she looks annoyed! Annoyed with Nanashi? No, probably with the clerk. Nanashi can't blame her. He writes too slowly for Nanashi's tastes too. But Nanashi will set a good example for her and be patient.
Oh, good! Here is the license! The clerk is speaking again.
Ugh! Nanashi hates sitting through boring lectures! First one free...sure sure...renew if you learn new stuff...What? They want Nanashi to do this again? Nanashi would sooner be boiled alive and served to starving kobolds!
No, Nanashi changes his mind. Perhaps lectures are not as bad as that. But they are still pretty bad! What? Why does the clerk look at Nanashi so strangely? Oh, right, he is finished speaking! Good! Nanashi couldn't stand much more of this! Still, he looks like he is waiting for something. Time for Nanashi to act!
"Nanashi thanks you for this license and promises to use it well. Yes, he sees how this thought makes you smile! Oh ho ho! Good! Esmet, look! Nanashi has his license! Let us celebrate!"
Yes, Nanashi will celebrate this triumph with a big dinner! He-no, wait. He yawns.
"Maybe we can celebrate tomorrow. Nanashi has walked far and done much today, but he has not slept. The inn must have a room for Nanashi, so to the inn he must go! Ho ho hoaaaawnnn..."
His head nods, but Nanashi does not fall! Nanashi is stronger than sleep! He will sleep when he is ready!
"Thank you for your heaaawnn... help, Esmet. Nanashi celebrates tomorrow at sundooown... Nobody's Inn. Nanashi hopes to see you there. G'night."
And he'll be ready soon! Oh ho ho! Time to go!
"Of course. I will come if I can. Will you be able to return to the inn all right?"
Nanashi says something grandiose - like buildings would quiver to block the path of Nanashi to the inn, so Esmet nods and returns to the boarding house.
There, you're safe from having to take him as a trainee!
The young man gets a pained expression on his face and replies, "You have a terrible sense of humor, Mirielle."
She laughs, saying, Well, regardless, thank you for comparing notes wth me. It's not easy finding someone interested in the necrosis rates of zombies. I need to get going, though. Bye!
She waves and walks across the atrium to the doors.
To Elsewhere
The first step was to prepare the enchantment that will help absorb the mental fractioning. With ease and two-hours later, an auspice granting divination spell reveals the headband to be fully ready to absorb thought processing.
Knowing the charge will outlast the two-days, Tynk takes a break to eat and prepare to last-out the next process.
He prepares the components, grimacing as he mashes the powdered intellect-devourer brain, dried bookworm, and fresh stream water into a medium goop. Then he applies this mix to the inside "seating" area of the platinum band. The center sapphire gleams in a candles light, and for a moment Tynk stops, shakes his head, and finishes.
This done, he sets to making himself comfortable in a meditative position and dons the piece. The goop sticks instantly, but there is no other sensation. For a moment, Tynk though he did something wrong, then he remembers the part of the process outline about mental imaging and it's one-sidedness. A thought is an origin, for which all existence stems from and yet is never the center.
Immediately he begins to get a feel for the rebounding absorption of his epiphany. He sets to work, and for four-hours long he meditates on his study habits, drive, the things he has learned of and the correlations of their successful studies. Nearing the end of the process, and the day, he snaps from he revere and realizes the sun is almost set. The process had seemed like mere moments and little more than a single thought.
Still, he can tell the fractioning is not quite done. He thinks a moment about what just happened, and comes up with...
. o O (The only real doom is the next moment, for until it's completion everything else exists.)
The next day he continues, the next process consisting of wearing the band while he studies various writings on intellectual processing and the humanoid brain. This goes on for about six hours, with short pauses for food and other habits. Finally, he is ready for the last step.
After taking the headband off, cleaning it, and another short break he sets to the chant that will weave the strings of his thought into the fibers of the platinum itself. The chant is complicated, and almost like one very long word said over and over at intervals. It builds from one root in Draconic, and sounds like draconic gibberish by the end.
The last line of the arcanic gibberish is spoken softly, and the item is placed on a soft cloth on the table. The spell is cast, and a minor divination tells him the item is ready for the final transfer, and he gently and slowly places the band to his head.
Despite the warning in the outline of the process, Tynk is taken by surprise. Loosing himself a moment all of the thoughts he has had while wearing it in the processes flash before him. Finally, Tynk consents ownership of the thoughts to the band and it is done.
A daze clears and Tynk can feel his thoughts a little clearer, hear them a little crisper. Nodding in satisfaction, he sets to cleaning up the lab.
At first he wasn't certain of anything, the room itself obscure and only familiar. Slowly events of the last many weeks drift by him, of time at the church and tower in study, work at Natalas and his alchemy, and the occasional combat training at the guild.
Today, he decided, was different. He was going to seize the day and give measure to his weeks of training and his many fields. Quietly as to not wake his roommate, he gathers clothes, money, and his few humble pieces of jewelry. As a second thought he grabs a pair of his comfortable work-out clothes and stuffs them in a lightly packed bag with a lunch.
It's about this time that Zap instantly pops up from sleep and Tynk informs her they are leaving the tower. Zap bounces to her feet and looks around for a mouse she realizes she only dreamed she caught. A moment later she is focused at the task at hand and another before they are out the door, down the stairs, and a wave from Tynk to the clerk before exiting the tower.
They head straight for the church.
[size=1]To Church of Agathalos[/size]
Zap plays a sort of leap-frog, bouncing ahead a little and waiting for Tynk to pass before bouncing ahead again. He catches an emotion in her, anticipation and prey? He makes a varied snapping sound a few times.
"Careful chasing mice and breaking something, Zap. There will be trouble."
...and this does nothing to stiffle the eagerness he feels in her.
To Marketplace
"Now for a bath, then I'll go make my report to Magistrix Beqcue"
Cassius gathers some clean clothes and a towel and makes for the common bathing room. To his delight the room is devoid of other living beings and soon the young mage is immersed in hot water
oO(Now how to bring this news to miss Beqcue, not everyday one brings an eye witness report on a human becoming, at least in part a dragon and then that connection between sorcerours and dragons, and all the other things, my mind dazzles with the task........)
Pondering the past few weeks, trying to distill a suitable report from al the news and knowledge Cassius swiftly dozes of in the warm water. By the time he wakes up the water has cooled enough to wake him.
.oO(If it is sealed magically, I cannot open it yet. The rogue will have to be aided.. That I can do.. I do not wish to break the door down. Knowledge is needed.)
He gets out of bed and heads off to the Library, through the night he does more research trying to find anything else he can about the place beneath the city. He also looks into more general studies, things dealing with doors, traps, hinges, locks and engineering.
{Buys Floating Disc Scroll}
To Nobody's Inn
He first sets to compose a short letter. Short and to the point he simply states those he knows are going into the sewers on this rescue attempt. After placing this in his large lockbox, he retrieves many items with haste and closes it. His roommate observes him pointedly, and Tynk spares him a moment with a look as he shoulders a mostly stuffed small pack.
”In a rush?
“Let’s say that a few friends are in danger and my presence is demanded.”
”Shouldn’t someone know in case…”
As nice as his roommate was, the way he means to trail off to make his point unnerves the youth.
“I have it covered, friend. Your concern gives me strength.” It was all he could think to say, and as kindly as he could say it. The two exchange looks and Tynk turns to make his way out of the tower, taking the familiar route across people’s park to Natala’s shop and his lab therein.
"Crebain, I'll be locking myself up in the tower for some time again, Why don't you go and see if you can find out what Darkar is up to"
"Gilgiga? Could you get the body please?"
Minto waits for the others, and then pushes open the doors, striding into the lobby.
"Greetings. I've got a delivery for Dame Mirielle. Is she in?"
The repcionist shakes her head. "She is currently unavaiable."
"Can I leave it here then?"
The receptionist nods. Minto calls out to Gilgiga. "Bring it in!"
He smiles as Verucas body is carried in. "Just a little thing we encountered out in the countryside we'd like identified."
He waves Avena in as well. "And here's someone else you might be intrested in. Avena Cynnwise. A scholar."
"She's interested in learning more about what you do here."
After that he notices how clean the place is.
.oO(I doubt that there is any place in the church as clean as this chamber. Hundreds of wizards must come through here a day, what can keep it this way?)
The second is the taste. A strange sort of after taste that is just beyond recogniction or realization.
.oO(Well, where does the dead lady go.
To the mother? Like everyone else, wicked or honorable.
Or to the corruptor brother? Along with all his other creations.
Perhaps becuase she is an odd creature of both, she goes to the both of them.
But then again, it's not my job to know these sorts of things, just to make sure people don't screw up how it works.)
He glances at her.
"Perhaps you could have one of your mages here test her out? Master Tynk, or Master Cassius perhaps?"
"Or Dame Mirielle when she gets back, I'm sure Avena wouldn't mind waiting in the library until then."
"If she can pay the fee, she can wait in the library."
"Ah, yes, the fee."
He turns to Avena. "There is a small fee to use the research facilities here unless you are a member. Not sure what it is exactly, I tend to do my research in the field... and the taverns... but I doubt it's much."
"Of course we could always get you settled in first and come back when one of my guildmates is available. I imagine finaces might be tight for a bit."
"Would you let Dame Mirielle, Master Tynk, and Master Cassius know that a Miss Cynwise will be exdpecting one of them at the Last Lich. They can fight it out amoung themselves over who gets the honor of meeting her first.
Minto gives the receptionist a wink and a grin, and then heads towards the door. "Let's get you guys settled into the Lich."
Minto heads back to the wagon and climbs in. "You are welcome to come along Gilgiga. I'll buy the first round. But if you'd prefer to get back to your garden, I'm sure we'll all understand."
He gives Anthony a few quick directions, and then sits back to enjoy the ride, whistling a tune as they travel.
On a personal note he adds that the garderner from the church of Ordemet would like to know the findings.
He returns the note and the pen to the addendant along with the package, then follows the rest of the group. When asked the question he replies.
"I would not mind getting back to the shed."
He then removes his sack from the wagon, then turns to Minto.
"If you ever need anything, you will know where I am."
With that he waves his fairwell as he heads to the church.
Oh, Hi! How are you? She put on a smile, as if she was in the receiving end of an electrical shock. After a moment of Tyros' not answering, she seemed to take notice of her condition. Oh... doing my homework, that's all. My tutor has given me some for the day... She started blushing.
Right, and you're also supposed to be doing clerk duty and being nice to visitors? Tyros tilted his head at the gross amount of books littering the wooden table.
I think both things are entwined, really.
The ranger chuckled a bit. Not at all. You see... erm... what's your name?
Tiffany. The young woman said slowly.
Tiffany... nice. Now, lady Tiffany, I'm afraid you're doing this all wrong. See, wizards are meant to be cranky and very, very rude to visitors. It's all that "I'm mightier than thou" thing they have around them. You'll probably be expelled from the tower if anyone catches you... making friends with outsiders. Tyros smiled as he advanced to her side, to try and take a look at what she was doing. He quickly turned his eyes to an interesting spider web in the ceiling when he caught a peek of "Reproductory System of Goblinoids"
Really? Well, it's just that... well, I'm an outsider too, I wasn't born in Garic's, so it's not like I have any friends here. Her light brown hair fell in braids in front of her suddenly sad, pale face. Tyros just couldn't have none of that.
If it's of any consolation to you, I think you just made your first. I'm Tyros, elven ranger and supplier of meat to a mildly known butcher. He accompanied his words with an exagerated bow and a courtious smile.
Oh, you're a ranger...? She said, apparently disregarding the rest of the information. I'm sorry, but I can't be seen with people like you! It's not fitting for a wizard to be with...
The quill she was using was hovering up and down on top of the desk, while Tyros was looking at it intently.
... non magical people. You're a wizard as well?
The quill landed safely on the desk after having the flight of its life, and Tyros was absolutely beaming with joy for his feat.
Well, I'm not really sure. That's what I came here for: information.
Really? Well, I can help! I always can. Especially you, now that I've met you. I've studied a lot about magic and wizards and... Her face became brighter as well.
Well, that's my problem. See, Volos told me that I was more of a sorcerer than a wizard...
You're a sorcerer!? Oh, great Mother, that's even worse than being a ranger! See, we wizards hate sorcerers, and you're very lucky you were nice to me because I would be blasting you off into another plane right now. Her voice gre a bit louder but, apparently, she was avoiding making a scene as much as possible.
Tyros was suddenly startled at the woman, who was apparently at her young nineteen's, her light blue eyes almost turning red, along with her face, as she got up from her seat.
I don't understand. Does this mean we can't be friends?
[OOC: Well, I'm pretty much calling a DM to take over now, if that's possible. Trying to develop a little plot line, is all, maybe something more. If you can't or don't want to, I can understand, but a reply would be great if you could give me one. Thanks in advance.]
Disturbed from his studies by the noise Cassius closes his book and heads to the front of the library to see what the noise is all about. As he rounds the last book case the white haired wizard sees a young apprentice he doesn’t know wrapped in a glamour facing of with an elf. The apprentice is obviously distressed by something. The elf’s stance however doesn’t show any aggression
“What in the name of Thalos is going on here? Drop that spell immediately apprentice, you know the rules, no casting within the library”
Cassius interruption breaks the girls concentration and immediately her appearance changes back to normal. After she has explained the situation Cassius sends her away
“You have my permission to leave your studies for an hour, go clean your face and report to your master. Report exactly what transpired here, including your offence of casting a spell in the library. Tell him that if he or she disagrees with my action he can come see me about this”
When the girl heas left Cassius turns to the Elf
“Now master Elf, you are from the silver sword are you not? I think I recognise your face. Did Volos send you? I am Cassius Gaia, formerly the guild wizard for the Silver Sword.
I must warn you that, unless you have been given permission to enter and use the library, you are in a restricted area.”
Well, erm... He said, still recovering from the sight of a supposedly new-found friend gathering herself for an attack on him. He refocused his attention on the new character, though, shoving the experience from his mind for the time being. Yes, I am a Silver Sword. Tyros Elessar, at your disposal, and I'm afraid that if it is as you say, I have no authorization to be here. Even so, Volos has allerted me to the probability of me being a sorcerer and I would very much like to delve deeper into the subject, in order to set my life's course straight. Do you think you can help?
"Well master Elessar, since you are tresspassing we'd better find a place to speak, perhaps the gardens? Follow me"
Cassius leads Tyros through the library, placing the books he was studying back on their shelves
"The library is the tower holy shrine, it holds the vast resources of knowledge and magical skill we wizards need to practice our craft. In fact you could say that the library is also our weakest spot. A wizard without his spellbook is essentially powerless once he has cast the spells he studied and memorized.
This "weakness" if you want is one of the reasons for most wizards' attitude towards sorceres. Whether they fear, loathe, hate or envy them is all based on one thing. A sorcerer need not study his spells, he only needs to rest to replenish his arsenal of spells. Sorceres on the other hand often claim that they are the only ones entitled to the use of arcane powers because they are born with them, one theory even claims that sorcerers have some link to draconic parentage in their bloodline. Their powers would be a result of a specificaly stong presence of the draconic blood in that specific person. Mind you it's only a theory."
While Cassius talks he leads Tyros through the tower until they reach an inner courtyard. This inner garden of the tower is a thing of wonder. At the center of the garden are three large oak trees, encircled in hazels and fern. The garden is planted but somehow feels wild
"If I talk to much please stop me....I have met a few sorceres in the past and I have some knowledge on the subject. I could also tell you much about the workings of magic as I use it 'though I am afraid that it won't do you much good. As far as I know a sorceror doesn't learn new spells, he discovers them or maybe, grows into them would be a better way of putting it......"
So, sorcerers are free of homework, then? Because I used to get a lot of that from Lady Dyer when I was training to be a wizard. But why do wizards have to memorize every spell everyday? Are they so hard to remember that you have to reread them with every dawn? Or are wizards simply a bit wind-headed? He looked at the trees with great interest, but seemingly awkward with them, for all their "unnaturality".
Cassius smiles to show he is only joking
"We wizards don't need to relearn our spells every day, only when a memorised spell has been cast we need to rememorise it. When we commit a spell to memory it places a roster of energy, a symbol if you will, in our mind. This symbol contains the arcane power needed to activate the spell. Once the spell is cast the energy dissipates. Much like a scroll actually. To re-use the spell the enery needs to be replenished and so we study"
I understand. And would you happen to know anyone who can help me control or tell me more about this power I seem to have in me? Somone that can actually tell me about my draconic heritage, if that's really true. And perhaps even help me find out if the apprentice from earlier will be angry at me for any time longer than my natural life span? The last bit was said in a semi-joking tone of voice, but then it turned serious. I mean, just because we don't do the same things, because I can't stand being closed in a damp room all day - no offence, sir - doesn't mean we can't be on speaking terms. It's silly, it's what it is.
If you need more answers they should be the ones able to help you. I could write you a letter of recommendation but that won't be any good with either of them. If they decide to help you it will be on your own merrits."
Cassius walks the corridors and sees Tyros off
"Good luck on your search Tyros"
oO( there must be an in cantation to break an spell on a single person only. There has to be something like that. So little time to do this all. I need to get to the lab as well, I'm sure I'll want more alchemists fire when we return there)
[i] Cassius enters the library again and begins sifting through the ledger thatg holds the index for anything on breaking enchantments or dispelling magical effects [I/]
Later
After resting and refreshing himself Cassius makes his way to the Towers Laboratory and spends the remainder of the day sorting through the supplies until he finds what he needs to make alchemists fire and arranging payment for enough raw material to make 2 vials
Mirielle goes to the laboratory and starts to put on one of the heavy work smocks when the supervising alchemist stops her.
Dame Dyer, you seem a bit agitated. You know as well as I do that this is the wrong place to be in that frame of mind.
She stops, bites back a retort, and sighs. Yes, you're right... Perhaps an hour in the garden... I've been robbed and it's rather distressing.
You? Robbed? But...
Yes, me. I expected Sir Pfaebinn to take action, and he didn't. We're going to have to have a talk about it. Well, I'll go try to calm down, now.
With a half-hearted smile, she turns and walks down to the walled garden below.
If I knew *hiccup* that I was coming here today...I wouldn't have drank so much...*hiccup*
The world was a slight spin for Kalthas but he was able to cope, he hadn’t drunk that much. Had he?
With that said, Driden slaps himself in the face and moves into the Hightower. Walking straight to the reception desk, he bows then introduces himself.
My name is Driden and umm...I would like to speak to someone who can answer a few questions I have. He says with a nervous smile.
oO( I wonder when Darkar will call on me for another trip into the gnomes hold)
.oO( This was a dumb idea...I should have waited...)
.oO(Hmm hows…Are you opened tomorrow…This isn’t a bar, bring on the sexy lass…Can I book an appointment they would go down well.)
"Depending on your question you may find an answer tonight. If you are simply searching for someone, we might be able to help you, for a fee of course... However, if you have questions about Magic I suggest you return when you are sober. The concepts of magic are hard enough to understand without the blurring aid of alcohol."
‘Big man.. If it’s all good, will come back later. Will be right as rain later tonight. I’m sure we will be. Sorry for time wasting. We will come back don’t you worry.’
Looken at Driden give him a wink then pulls at his side and as he makes a leisurely stroll out and into the street.
.oO(Should ask if the bloke clercs get replace with the lass at night.)
[to Elsewhere in Garic's City ]
Cassius startles the Clerc from his work
"if those two ruffians return call me.If they have questions I'll try to answer them"
The clerk curls his lip in disgust, and finishes jotting down the journal entry.
oO(What's keeping Darkar this long perhaps it'd be best to discuss matters of this Dark priest at the temple of Thalos, maybe they can tell me something about the powers of such a priest and how he was able to silence only the spellcasters in our group. I'll go there after I've spoken with those two man. I wonder what they are about..)
After reading the letter twice, she stares into space, considering.
.oO(So Devon is failing in his mind... A dangerous state for a wizard, and I suppose I am the best suited for the task. I'd best leave right away.)
She sighs, pockets the letter, and walks swiftly from the Tower.
.oO(o’yes. I’m back. I said I would be.)
Silently Kal’thas moves to the side and waits for Driden to arrive. The sound of the clerk coming to his feet causes the gnome to snap another glance down to the desk, just in time to see him exit the room.
Clerk: Coming to Cassius room the clerk knocks sharply then enter the room.‘Sorry to disturb you sir in the midst of your work...but it’s those two, the two that reeked terribly. They’ve come back.’ His brow creases in fret ‘I though I’d tell you now.’
I'm so bad with first impressions...
"Thank you young master Andomer, I'll come with you right away"
Cassius stoppers his inkjar and blots the parchment before rolling it carefully and placing the document in his lockbox
a few moments later the clerc returns to the hall, Cassius following close on his heels
"Good day Gentlemen, my name is Cassius Gaia, enforcer for the Hightower. How can I help you?"
Cassius leads the men into a small meeting room sparsly furnitured with a table and a couple of chairs. A water pitcher and some cups stand waiting on the table, The room is obviously used for such meetings on a regular bases. He offers both men a chair on the opposite side of the table and takes one for himself. Taking the pitcher he offers the others a drink of water
"You are aware that there may be a fee based on the information you seek?"
Well I hope I have enough...
The young man thinks for a moment before taking a gulp of water.
In anycase, I'll ask my question and if I don't have enough money to receive an answer then I will find a job to make enough to get the answer at a later date. Is that acceptable?
‘I can also pay a bit of the fee if Driden doesn’t have the total amount of money.’
Driden takes another gulp of water before closing his eyes for a second to recall his terrible memories.
Well you see...I developed some sort of "power" when I was sixteen. Due to this "power", I did something terrible a long time ago and can never be forgiven.
Tears swell up in Driden's tightly closed eyes as he shakes his head. The young man then clenches his fists before opening his eyes and allowing the tears to roll down his cheeks.
W-what kind monster am I? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME! A second after his outburst, Driden looks down at his lap while the tears drop onto his fists.
"Relax young man, first of all whatever it is you've done, chances are that you are not to blame for what happened. I think I have an idea where this is going but I must ask you to tell me more about this incident and maybe even show me that power you are talking about"
oO(Typical, this could be the second sorcerer in two days who lands on my doorstep so to speak. If I keep this up I'm going to get a nasty reputation around here)
Fire...it came from my hands and killed someone while leaving another scarred...
"That sounds like you posess innate magical powers. Do you remember what triggered the flames? Where you beeing harassed, anry or scared? Sometimes strong emotions can trigger a first outburst of such powers. These powers can be controlled, even guided with training."
oO( Maybe I should take them to one of the training rooms, see if I can help him trigger this power. I should be sending him along to find Kywyn or Na'shae, perhaps even Pearl although I'm sure she would scare his pants of in het current state. No I can't I should at least try and help him understand what is happening, he is so scared of himself.....)
Driden finally regains his composure and sits up. With a some redness still in his eyes, the young man reaches out and grabs the cup of water to drain it.
There's something else inside of me...I just don't know what it is...or what I am for that matter. But for some reason this feeling inside is different from the feeling I have when I use my powers.
After looking into his cup for a few moments, Driden closes his eyes.
You two must think I'm a monster...
.oO( Things were so much easier when I was a mercenary...Why did I have to come here and find the answers.)
Cassius pauses a moment
"perhaps it would be better to continue this conversation in one of the training rooms. My questions may cause you to investigate this power more closely and you could accidently release the spell. "
before they have a chance to reply Cassius gets up and leads them to one of the trainingrooms
"These rooms are spell proof so you needend worry about doing any structural damage. And before you fire more questions could you please try to answer my earlier question?
I'm not too sure...there's definitely something different about them and I know that if one did not exist, the other would not as well. Almost as if they work together hand in hand.
Suddenly, the young man's eyes open and his hand shoot out before him. With a slight growl, flames then blast from his finger tips warming the air around them. When the flames finally subside, Driden bends over and closes his eyes tightly.
I'm sorry... He whispers to himself.
I can't seem to grasp the other feeling within. Everytime I do so , I end up using my powers. Maybe I'm just not ready...
With a long drawn breath, Driden makes his way back to the two standing off to the side.
I always thought that wizards and mages were the only ones who can shoot fire from their hands. Does this mean that something is wrong with me?
"The spell you just called forth appears to be one that is called "Burning Hands". It is a spell that many wizard or mage apprentice learns early on in his training as it is an effective defensive spell. From what I have just seen it is obvious that you are not a trained wizard or mage. You draw the spell from inside yourself in a way that I have not seen before but I think that you are a sorceror. Even though most sorcerors usually have words of gestures that trigger their spells it seems that you focuss on some inward power."
Cassius stops for a few moments to let all this sink in
"I think that the second spell that lies hiden within you requires specific words or gestures to trigger instead of this aggresive inward focussing that you do to trigger the burning hands spell. Unfortunately for you I am not a sorceror and I have little knowledge of the way their powers awaken over time. You could once again try to focus inward and focus on this new power, then, don't try to grab control over it but just try to feel it, try to see if the power itself will give you a hint as how to unlock it."
Cassius manouvers Driden to the centre of the room and sits him down, while he waves Kal'thas back towards the door. Cassius begins to speak in a slow, almost hypnotic voice
"Now sit down and try to empty your mind.......... envision your emotions like small clouds and let them be blown away by a gentle breeze..........now find this new power......gently, carefully......feel it, gently, now tell me what it feels like......what impressions are you getting......."
It feels protective... He says with his eyes still closed.
Cassius prepares a dispell magic just in case
I guess it didn't work.
"On the contrary my friend, your spell worked perfectly"
With those words he grabs a slingstone from his pouch and throws it at Driden, only to see it bounce of the invisible shield
"Your new power is a shield spell, it will protect you against normal missile attacks. Both spells you have demonstrated are minor spells and I would advise you to buy a casting permit for low level spells. You will need it to stay out of trouble with the law, casting without a permit is forbidden.
As for your other worries, you are not a monster, you are a sorceror, someone who has the inate ability to shape and use magical power. A first release of those power is often triggered by strong emotions and sometimes it just bursts out in a way you cannot control. Whatever happenned in the past to give you the idea that you are a monster, it was an accident. If you had known and controlled your powers then you would have been a monster"
.oO( I finally get my answers but yet I still feel hollow.)
A casting permit you say...I'll make sure to get one. He states with a quiet voice while looking down at the slingstone.
.oO( Why do I still hear a whisper deep down? It's almost like something else is calling to me but is too faint to be heard.)
The young man thinks to himself but deciding not ask the already very helpful wizards another question. Finally, Driden bows low and keep the pose while thanking Cassius.
Thank you very much good sir. You have helped me greatly and for that I am eternally in your debt. My sword and...my magic are yours for the asking. It is all I can offer you for my gratitude.
Cassius smiles and motions for driden to stand straight
"You are nobody's servant, certainly not mine. However you could do me a favor. I am in need of some rather uncommon components for my spells. If you are willing to go search for them I would be most appreciative."
"Driden, the components I need are not among the ordinary items used for spells. I need you to find three rings of glass filled with the water of the moon. Where you can find them I have no idea, there is no haste either. I need them for a spell I am creating. If you can find me those rings I'll have a reward waiting for you"
(OOC: Sorry for the long wait, work, kids, basically in general Life caught up again)
‘Hmm, these rings do you know if they have any historical values.’ He says unsure of himself, ‘I mean, For you to have know of them, they must have been in the possession of a person or have some record to them… a background or possible lead for us to base our search around. Do you know if they have been within Garic's City? ’ as he speaks his brow seems to curve in thought, yet his eyes and tone come out as if the words aren’t his own.
.oO(maybe all this love-dovy and emotional stuff is starting to get to me.)
Perhaps information on these rings can be found at the library. Would there be a problem with us taking a look?
After moments of careful thought, the young man finally nods and bows once again.
We'll be on our way then. Some good rest will be needed if we are to search for these rings.
Driden then taps Kal's shoulder and walks toward the exit after a wave to the wizard. As he steps out of Hightower, he takes a deep breath and exhales loudly.
Thanks for coming with me Kal, your a good friend. Now I think it's time to find ourselves a bar and finish what we started earlier today.
The young sorceror looks down at his friend and smiles.
What do you think?
Out in the open Kal’thas sighs in relief, he font the comfort of the mages quarters slightly confining for him.
.oO(God! All that touchy, getting to know how one is feeling. Pht! Like that does anything. Not my scene. Damn I’ve gotten soft. Ha! I think I’m loosing my touch.)
Casting a frown to Driden he smirks and drums upon his chest, ‘Ho!Ho!’ He says making an impersonation of the wild gnome at the bar, ‘I think getting maggoted before we get stuck into this ‘Moonfire’ is the best idea yet…To the last Lick inn?’
[to Last Lich Inn]
Then let's be on our way my friend.
[to Last Lich Inn]
When Driden and Kal'thas have gone Cassius returns to his private chambers to continue his preparations for another tattoo
oO(maybhe I should see if there are familiar faces to be found at the lich)
Donning his cloak Cassius leaves the tower and heads for the last lich
The smile on his face widened as his attacker turned around with a look of fearon her face when he started to utter the words of a spell that would allow him to hurl a bolt of lightning, and at this range, he couldn't miss.
Her face turned from fear to amusement as she realised he couldn't lift his arms. Then into shear horror as the bolt of electricity shot out of his eyes and into her body.
He saw her still shaking body fall to the ground, steam rising form her empty eye sockets. His last though before the darkness came was for her
the voice fades and the dim light is replaced by darkness once again
The light hurts, so much better to keep his eyes closed. Who is that shadow....
"......an unknown poison............antidotes failed, ,maybe a priest......."
the pain subsides as darkness once again overcomes his mind
Amarins voice cutting through his darkness, the other voice is unfamiliar, muffled and vague as it sounds. With the hearing the pain returns, wave after wave of fire coursing through his body, white stars exploding behind his eyes sending shock after shock of pain into his brain. Not much later the pain soothes as the darkness returns again
".....never seen anything like this..............seems to be immune to divine...........this black mark...........new?
...sure that is what he wants?.........radical...........cannot oversee the consequenses.............."
The light slowly fades to a dull grey, not the usual pitch dark, the pain seems to go away though as does the sound. Silently he lies waiting in the grey
"I don't like this, we have never encountered a poison such as this. It is almost impossible that it is merely a poison. Whatever is causing this condotion is resisisting, and I mean activly resisisting any attempt to heal him or wake him up."
"I agree although I don't think that whatever it is is divine in nature. I feel not a single trace of godly energy about him, I hardly feel any life with him either. I am very worried obout this, how is the other one? Is she recuperating"
"the amount of poison seems much lower, she is responding well"
" So, once again you wander into my domain, lost between life and death once more"
"If you mean responsible for your current condition the answer must be both yes and no"
The grey slowly fades to a soft light, slowing a soft toned landscape, all collours nealry transparent pastel's. Near the edge of a copse of trees sits a man dressed in white, with features so bland and smooth it's nearly angelic
"So you are not behind my poisoning, but you are keeping me here.....to what purpose if I may ask"
To keep you alive, you ingrateful human. I need your help and that will be the price you pay to return to the living
Their goal is to control all magic in this world and they will stop at nothing. The attack on your life was only a beginning. Return to the living, safeguard Amarin and destroy the order of the Black Lilly
Before Cassius can speak he is thrown back into the darkness, through the darknes into a maelstrom of dark and light until finally after what seems an eternity he opens his eyes and finds himself in his own room at the tower
"Yes?" he asks, seeing a trio who, unless he's very much mistaken, are not wizards at all.
Dorian opens his cloak so the deputy shield becomes visible to show proof of his words
The young man shows the trio in to a small waiting room next to the entrance and even holds the door open so Wolfkin can come inside as well. The wizards' permissive attitude towards familiars either extends to animals in general or he's simply not taking any chances.
He did put a strange emphasis on the title magister, but doesn't ask any further questions and goes off, returning only minutes later with the wizard in question.
"I'm Vlerick," a gaunt man in his mid-thirties introduces himself. "What's this about?"
The wizard throws his hands in the air in exasperation.
"Look, yes, some magic was used. But it didn't accomplish anything, and there was no art to it. Some idiot without skill or training who found something he couldn't understand or was deluded by a hedge witch or something, nothing more. It wasn't even the same every time. If it was the same person, he clearly doesn't know what he's doing."
.oO(That last question was probably a shot in the dark, but I have no knowledge of magic aside from what it can do to enhance my weapons and armor.... but the better to ask questions to find out as much information as you can)
Vlerick's voice rises by an octave or more, blood flushing his cheeks in sudden anger, and the acolyte who'd let the trio in and had removed himself to give the group some privacy stick his head through the door for a very short moment to see what's going on, before thinking better of interfering and dashing off again.
*Zade bows as he finishes talking, hoping to have dodged an arrow, or in this case an fireball, by explaining himself more.
Zade's words apparently soothed the wizard's tender pride a bit, but the expression on his face remains terse.
"Two opposing types of magic were used. If it were different spells as part of a larger design that might have been plausible, but this was clearly one single spell - casting a single spell as part of two different schools goes against all the fundamental laws of magic to begin with, let alone when these schools oppose each other. At best, I'd say this unschooled dabbler got his hands on a description of a ritual involving several spells and got everything mixed up. The exact purpose of that ritual, if this is in fact the case, is impossible to determine."
Whoever did this seems obstinate though: despite evident failure, he's tried a handful of times - that we know of. I expect more sacrifices will be reported."
I suppose it won't hurt to hazard an educated guess, I suppose, but I won't be held to any degree of accuracy. The strongest auras, as I mentioned, came from conjuration and abjuration, mostly the former. The most plausible concept for a ritual, given these factors, would be a summoning combined with a protective barrier. The other components could possibly enhance these effects: evocation and possibly transmutation to prepare a suitable environment or even vessel for the summoned entity, enchantment to gain more control. But really, this exercise is akin to being given all the letters of the alphabet once and being expected to make a coherent sentence with them: it's a given that any such attempt fails."
Arvindur looked deeply offended by that thought, almost as if it were a personal affront...composing himself, he resumed,
"Would there then be any significance to the locations used from a mystic perspective? I would presume such an act could not be simply carried out anywhere, and if we could hazard a guess as to where it could be done next, or what preparations would need to be made, ambushes, tracking, and traps could be arranged for our culprit or culprits."
I've found no traces of such preparations on the sites anyway, further convincing me that the person who is doing this has any real knowledge."
Arvindur gives Wolfkin a scratch, glancing at Dorian and Zade to see if they had anything else to ask.
Vlerick seems somewhat mollified now, at least, although still definitely not enthusiastic.
With a short bow Dorian takes his leave from the magister
"Arvindur, Zade, Wolfkin, come let us see if we can pick up a trail afore turning in"
"Where to next? Do we have a list of recent sites to work on?"
We could start by having a walk around this part of the city and identifying likely spots?"
Dorian speaks in a hushed voice, not wanting to attract attention to themselves. Going back tot he main straats the big man leads the group out of the tower ward and into the guild district
"if we find nothing here we might as well see if we can find lodgings in the old guildhall in the city. We can then report to the chapterhouse tomorow morning to pick up the list of locations"
"We're not making any progress this way. I say we head for the old guildhall and try to catch a few hours of sleep. Once we get the list of locations we can start by investigating the last one. Depending on how long ago the incident happened and the weather since then we might be able to find some tracks that will help us"
Dorian resolutly turns about and heads to the warehouse district where the old guildhall is located
I should get me a good hunting dog though, perhaps once we are done here I could look in on some of the farms along the road."
The last part spoken mostly to himself, the ranger leads the group through the city untill they reach the old guildhall
OC
Moved the action to a more appropriate thread, the old guildhall
He notices a few dark figures caught in the shadow of the Hightower against the moonlight. They're standing at the doors, with very much the same idea he had, knocking.
"You don't suppose they're sleeping? You can never tell with these wizard types, though I'd wager they're early to bed and early to rise types... stuffy old codgers." Satyre says in a friendly manner as he approaches them.
The young bard holds his hands out to stave off any forthcoming attacks, when he realizes he recognizes some faces.
"Arv... Arvindur, what luck! I had been wondering what had become of you and your mighty steed!
... and is that you Zade?!"
"Yes indeed, it has been a while. When I returned to the Guild complex they assigned me to another group. I had been traveling with them until recently...
So, what brings you to the Hightower? A great and mysterious mission, I bet!"
He waves the container with the latest evidence, "We were just bringing this to the wizards to have a look"
Satyre looks to the container the little druid is holding.
"Eh, ghastly!
... mind if I take a look." the Half-Elf says with a smile.
Satyre gets a glimmer in his eye, and a wild smile races across his face.
"Of course, this could prove entertaining, and isn't that the point of a holiday? To enjoy one's self? Lead on, my friend."
...
"Oh, I don't believe we've met. I am Satyre."
The bard throws out a hand towards the scruffy human accompanying Arvindur and Zade.
"Oh, I don't believe we've met. I am Satyre."[/color]
The bard throws out a hand towards the scruffy human accompanying Arvindur and Zade.
"Well met then, Satyre. I'm Dorian. You're on leave? From the Silver Sword?"
Dorian takes Satyre's hand and grips it briefly but firmly.
Satyre says as a matter of fact as he squeezes past Arvindur and Dorian to try opening the door.
"I'm sure they'll mind." he grins.
"I'm sure they'll mind." he grins.
The door is not locked and opens soundlessly. The hallway is dark, except for three tall candles creating a soft, amber glow. There's no-one sitting at the desk.
I doubt they would just leave these candles lit and unattended.
"Who is it that we are to meet with?"
He turns to the others, "Any other business, guys?"
OOC
Wasn't Satyre here regarding his spellcasting license?
Wasn't Satyre here regarding his spellcasting license?
The acolyte pinches his nose, shows you to the same waiting room as the previous time and scurries off. He returns some twenty minutes later, a dwarven wizard in tow.
"Vlerick is out this evening. My name is Blund, Vlerick is under my tutelage while preparing for his graduation from the Tower. What business do you have with him?"
Blund looks stern, with piercing eyes between bristling eyebrows and dito beard. It looks like he was busy, from the inkstains on his hands and the pen he's absentmindedly still holding, but despite this he is willing to take some time for the investigators.
"You stay here, Emmett," he says to the acolyte, "we may require a hand from you. Afterwards you can go and see who is supposed to be welcoming visitors."
"We would like your help in examining this evidence."
"What have we here... Necromancy? Not my forte, but I can certainly get you on the right path."
Blund snaps his fingers and a brightly glowing orb appears over the box, shedding more light on the brittle and dried-out contents.
"Vlerick's services for the Guard have no bearing on his work for me, so I have no knowledge of his findings. Could you tell me what he has told you earlier?"
...
He turns to the others, "Any other business, guys?"
It suddenly occurs to Satyre that, if he is to assist his comrades, it might be prudent to confirm that he is able to fiddle around with the tapestry of nature according to the laws and by laws of the Hightower and Garic's City. He waits for a more appropriate time to inquire. Seeing as the acolyte Emmett might be needed for more immediate tasks.
Arvindur adds after a brief pause, "It was his opinion that whoever attempted this was ignorant enough of magic to be harmless, but we have uncovered signs that whoever it was could travel by supernatural means, leaving no track of prints nor scent. That, I expect, is no mean feat of magic."
"Magister Vlerick spoke that the sacrifices contained mixed traces of conjuration and abjuration magics, but that as these are opposed forces, nothing could come of it."
Arvindur adds after a brief pause, "It was his opinion that whoever attempted this was ignorant enough of magic to be harmless, but we have uncovered signs that whoever it was could travel by supernatural means, leaving no track of prints nor scent. That, I expect, is no mean feat of magic."
Blund gently pokes at the remains with the stem of his pen, listening to the rustling sound again.
"Conjuration and abjuration? He made a logical conclusion, but mayhap should have kept an open mind nevertheless. And yes, magical travel requires either advanced skill or a very significant expense to obtain an item with such magics stored in it.
There appears to be something inside these, no? Did Vlerick mention anything about that? Have you taken a look yourselves?"
Incidentally, much as he'd like to believe otherwise, Vlerick has not earned the title of magister yet. He's probably proficient enough, but here at the Hightower we don't skip on formalities such as exams and masterpieces."
Blund stares at each of the Silver Swords briefly from beneath his bushy eyebrows and then takes the box from Arvindur and walks deeper inside the building.
"Follow me, if you will. This may be a wizards' tower, a proper dwarf such as myself prefers to stay on the ground or, as in this case, underneath it. My quarters are in the basement.
Emmett, if you could go to the library, ask our head librarian to provide you with whichever useful work on joining opposing schools of magic and bring his findings to me in my workspace? You can return to your own occupations afterwards."
Show
I'll add more later, since right now I can't take more time out at work. Feel free to interject what you will. ;)
"Anything else you can tell me? Where did you find these? Was there anything else of note in the area?
Oh, and take a seat of you want to," he waves to a few stools and chairs scattered around the room, "this might take a little while."
He produces the copy of Sergeant Flint's notes, taking a seat as he watches the dissection with morbid interest, "Unfortunately, we only took up the case recently, but I'm told Vlerick had examined the prior sacrifices on the behest of the Watch. They should be around here somewhere."
"This particular specimen was discovered in the garden of the Ravendale estate, while the others are listed here. As to the scene itself, the culprit, whoever it is, appears to be roughly human sized, judging by his prints, but those prints start and end in thin air a short distance from the sacrifice. The culprit was squatting, if it helps."
He produces the copy of Sergeant Flint's notes, taking a seat as he watches the dissection with morbid interest, "Unfortunately, we only took up the case recently, but I'm told Vlerick had examined the prior sacrifices on the behest of the Watch. They should be around here somewhere."
"You'll have to confer with him then," Blund says while carefully cutting open the carcass with a thin scalpel, "but in the meantime we can take a look at what's inside this one."
Using a small pincet, he pulls out a tightly rolled-up strip of parchment.
"Well, well... This might tell us something..."
The wizard slowly unrolls the parchment and holds it up to the light of the orb that's still floating over the desk. There's definitely something written on it, but it's almost completely faded and impossible to read.
"A minor setback. I wonder if we can restore the writing somehow..."
"Mind if I take a look at the parchment? I have very keen eyes... a family trait."
"Mind if I take a look at the parchment? I have very keen eyes... a family trait."
"Go ahead. Mine aren't what they used to be, but I don't think even a literate hawk could make anything of this."
Blund steps aside to make room at the worktop for Satyre. Try as he might, the half-elf's eyes are just as stumped as the dwarf's though. There's definitely something there, perhaps even a sentence or three, but the markings are so shallow and faded it's impossible to recognize them with the naked eye.
"Would a spell of mending work? I'd try, except it'd have to wait till morning. Hadn't thought I'd need that."
"That might work, as might several other spells, but I wouldn't go around casting spells at that unless all else fails. There are still traces of magic in it, no telling what might happen. Maybe you should take it to a scribe? They probably have a few tricks up their sleeves that are less risky."
"Know any good ones? I expect the Hightower to have some of the best available on employ, but I don't normally make much use of the written word myself."
"Not so much. We employ only a few, and those only for their penmanship. We have our acolytes and students for that kind of thing, and the sensitive material is usually kept strictly personal."
Scratching his beard, Blund goes on: "Ideally you'll want one who knows how to work the materials, inks, parchment... There are plenty of shops where someone could help you or know of someone else who could."
"Volos will definitely know someone," Zade says. "He handles all the guild's correspondence with the city."
Blund utters a few words and stares intently at the remains, apparently trying to divine the magics that were wrought on it. He humms softly, nodding and narrowing his eyes, when suddenly he starts: "What? No... It can't be!"
Now looking grim, he repeats his earlier spell, but must come to the same conclusion, since he takes a few steps back and drops into a chair.
"Gorza's Folly? Who would... Vlerick? Vlerick! No, he's not that big a fool..."
Do you know about conjuration and abjuration? Calling something into being and keeping something at bay, respectively? Gorza's Folly is based on using these forces to achieve opposite results: conjuring up energy to contain something while at the same time abjuring reality, for lack of a better term, so something else can come to exist. A novel idea, but completely backwards. Magic can't work backwards."
"What would this ritual accomplish if it somehow worked? The abjuring of reality does not sound like a pleasant concept."
"What would it accomplish? What wou...," Blund splutters.
"I'm a bit out of sorts, I fear. That's what I should have started with, I suppose.
The ritual is intended to transform the caster into a living avatar of a higher - or lower, if so desired - being. A deity, or one of the more powerful demons or celestial beings. The conjuration/abjuration part is the core of the ritual, the other parts depend on the higher being's individual characteristics. So, not necessarily unpleasant, but in this case - ritual sacrifices, necromantics - most arguably so.
But all of this is largely academic. The ritual can't possibly work. The few documented cases all suggest a horrid demise for the misguided fool who tried it anyway though."
Satyre sits pensive for a moment. Though never known for being very pious, he is smart enough to be respectful of the creators and destroyers of worlds.
"Right, if we know the components required, we might be able to trace something back to those responsible.."
"It depends on the god involved, really. And probably few things you could put your hands on anyway. The true name of the god, or at least a name that holds power over him. An altar, or at least hallowed ground. Given the necromantics and sacrifices we have so far, maybe a circle of power. A pentagram, or another geometric figure. I can probably be more specific if you can get me the contents of that slip of parchment."
"Nothing there that seems significant. I don't think the locations are important, except perhaps geographically. You've mapped these out?"
Blund scratches his beard some more while studying the map.
"Can't make much of that. Are these in chronological order?"
Blund spreads the map out on the table.
"If the geometry of the locations is significant, we're looking for symmetrical figures, equidistant points, ... Possibly multiple figures, all centered around the same point. And in that case, working inwards. The outer figures would be the older ones. Does that shed any light on the matter?"
First Formation
"...Add points here, and here and here, where the pattern suggests undetected sites..."
Extrapolation 1
He frowns at the mental image, and unthinkingly grabs a piece of paper to trace on."Now to link the sites..."
Extrapolation 2
"If what I'm assuming is correct, whatever it is could be centered upon the graveyard or Mother's temple. Is that significant?"
"If what I'm assuming is correct, whatever it is could be centered upon the graveyard or Mother's temple. Is that significant?"
"Yes! Good eye, young man. I'm a little unsure of the inner circle, but that's of lesser importance. The center point, that's the main thing.
As for its significance, that's obvious: hallowed ground. I would bet on the cemetary. Not because of the necromantic elements, although that's probably not coincidental, but because completing the ritual will take a little time - five, ten minutes, maybe up to half an hour? A determined fool could risk that in the cemetary, but not inside the Temple of the Mother."
"I can't tell you more without further details about the particular higher entity involved, but the date and time will either be determined by the start of the drawing of the circle or will be connected to that entity. And obviously the circle will have to be finished first."
"And with the most recent find being where it is, the circle must be within a handful of points short of completion. We don't have much time. Is there anything else you could advise us on Magister Blund? If not we must make haste to Mother's temple to warn them, and then to find a scribe."
"Unless there a number of center points that haven't been found yet I think there is still enough time, but it's best not to take any chances. There's nothing else I can tell you now. For that I'd need access to the other finds and a good way to restore those scriptures. Hurry over to the temple first, but remember that knowledge is power. It'll be much easier to find this would-be Gorza if we knew the details of what he intends to realize. If you can, go and take a look at the missing locations on your map: there could be other parts of the puzzle up for grabs. And if you happen to run into Vlerick, don't let him out of your sight again: I have a few choice words for that hare-brained dolt."
"We'll be sure to keep an eye out for Vlerick, magister. We have some questions of our own we'd like to ask."
"Hmm... what of the writing on the parchment? It could give us some insight on what the desired result is here."
Satyre knows that the situation is grave... but he can't help but get excited. A mystery was what was needed to keep his mind occupied. With Mother's help they would get to the bottom of this before whatever evil is at work here is realized.
"Mother's temple is on the way back to the Guild, so we can drop by and warn the priests on our way back." Arvindur checks for any remaining matters and, thanking Magister Blund, makes for the door.
Zade and Dorian follow suit, looking resolute. It's good to have a clear course of action and answers to at least some questions, instead of fumbling along in the dark.
Show
oops.
Are Arvindur and I switching threads?
That would be best, yes - The temple of Ordemetrex thread or Elsewhere, if you intend to talk stuff through before getting there (no ambush or sneaky stalkers waiting for you now, so you can skip Elsewhere altogether if you want).
"Is Master Blund in madam?"
"He should be," the woman peers at him intently. "He already has a visitor - a female mage from outside the Tower."
There is mild disapproval written on her face, though whether it's due to the female company or the fact that she's not associated with the Hightower is impossible to say.
"What business does he have with you?"
"If you would like to take a seat? I will let you know his response."
Arvindur nods agreement and takes the proffered seat, waiting for the wizard to be done. Hopefully this wouldn't take too long.
Only a few minutes later, the desk clerk gets up from her seat and comes over.
"Magister Blund will receive you immediately. If you'll follow me?"
She leads the group to the wizard's rooms along the same route they took the day before and knocks on the door. A muted "Enter!" comes through and the door is opened. The woman nods and returns to her desk.
"Good morning. Good to see no time is being wasted," Blund greets everyone.
"I trust no introductions are necessary?"
The woman visiting looks at least familiar to everyone, if they don't immediately recognize her: it's Gabrielle Finnisvale, more commonly known as the Bluebird, the half-elven sorceress who is in charge of the guild's arcane business and holds a position among the Cadre of Five.
OoC
You can choose for yourselves whether your character knows magister Finnisvale or not. She doesn't show herself all that much in the day-to-day affairs of the Guild, but every Silver Sword has seen her on a few occasions at least. There's a little bit of info to be found via the Important Thread Index, if you look at the Silver Sword entry on the major organisations thread. Can't miss it, it's the only one there so far. ;)
"Pleased to meet you. Arvindur Leafchaser, and companions, at your service."
The Bluebird inclines her head briefly at the halfling, and then the others in turn as they introduce themselves.
"We will have to sit together soon, I think. I keep tabs on all guild members with magical ability, even those whose powers differ from my own in nature. But that can wait. Master Blund informed me of your findings. I'm inclined to share his opinion on the gravity of the situation: the threat from the ritual itself is not a true worry, but those people attempting to bring it about and the havoc they may cause are not to be underestimated. I will confer with our friends at the temple and if necessary, divert part of our nearby patrols to reinforce their guards."
The sorceress speaks sofly, but there's a definite hard edge to her voice and her demeanor is completely business-like. Clearly, this is a woman not to be trifled with.
"Now, I believe you were going to attempt to have some writings pertaining to the ritual restored. Have you been successful?"
"This is good work. And the result is most interesting. Master Blund, what do you think?"
The dwarf was already looking at the parchment as well, fingers running through his beard.
"Infernal, no? The glyphs, anyway. Minor deviations in some of the details, but mostly a matter of style - archaic, which is saying a lot for a language predating dwarven memory."
"You are correct, magister. Not a sentence though, or even words. A name - no, not a name, part of a name!"
The sorceress is intrigued, gleaming eyes focused on the writing.
"We need the other parchments. This is but a fragment. More pieces of the puzzle might allow us to divine the whole. With that, with the entire name, we will know what we face. "
"I believe Wizard Vlerick took possession of the specimens from before we entered the investigation, though no doubt there remains several suspect points to be searched further. Those should be right here in the Hightower."
"If he didn't keep them on his person or hid them elsewhere," Blund replies with a worried grunt.
"I don't really believe in his good faith anymore. As his sponsor at the Tower, he should keep me informed of his activities. I have not heard from him since the day you first met him though, and I believe he hasn't even returned to the Hightower since. We will search his personal quarters. That it should come to this..."
"Well, Master Blund, hopefully it merely slipped his mind. But, we do what we must. Shall we begin?"
"Of course. Follow me."
Blund leads the group through the Tower. The aspiring graduates' quarters are in an entirely different wing and they attract quite a bit of attention on the way, moving at the decisive pace set by the senior wizard. The look in his eyes, and possibly that of the Bluebird's as well, dissuades any and all thinking of interfering though. There isn't even anyone curious enough to risk following to see what's going on.
"Here we are," the dwarf says when they reach their destination, a solid oaken door adorned only by a single sigil.
"He isn't in, or that sigil would tell us so."
He reaches for the handle, but magister Finnisvale stops him with a hand on his arm.
"Can't be too careful, master..."
She utters an incantation and inspects the door, evidently checking for signs of magical traps.
"I didn't like the arrogant sod the first time I saw him," Zade whispers to Dorian, who nods sagely.
The door checks out, so the Bluebird steps aside again for master Blund to open the door.
"Any door to a student's rooms opens for a Hightower master," he explains while pushing the door open.
"It's quite convenient at times. My turn now."
The dwarf stands in the doorway and casts a spell of his own, this time checking the room's contents.
"Nothing out of the ordinary, just a few small wards on a couple of chests."
With that, everyone is motioned inside. The room is sparsely furnished - fortunately, since that will make searching it more easy - and only has a single small window to the outside, across from the single bed in an alcove to the right of the door. Left of the door most of the wall is taken up by a heavy armoire, probably where Vlerick keep his clothes. The remaining two walls are dominated by a long corner desk and a number of shelves holding rolls of parchment, books and a few nicknacks and magical parafarnalia. A small round table almost in the middle of the room, accompanied by four non-matching chairs on a faded round rug, concludes the inventory.
"Hmm, he wouldn't keep them in the open I believe. Which chests are warded, Master Blund? I'd rather not be incinerated for exploring his research materials."
"There's nothing quite so dangerous here that I can see, master Arvindur," the dwarf responds, pointing out the individual chests.
"It's all magical locks and spells to warn him of anyone touched the boxes or tried to open them. That'd be a good thing maybe, hopefully he'll come running when he senses his wards were triggered."
Dorian and Zade start rummaging through everything, gingerly at first but soon without worries when they see nothing untoward happening. The wizard and the sorceress focus on Vlerick's desk and on his writings, hoping to find something enlightening about the apprentice's projects and maybe even his whereabouts.
"Ah, alright then." Arvindur headed for the items that were warded and rummages through their contents.
One or two boxes are magically locked, but master Blund waves at Arvindur that he'll take care of those. The others are well-ordered, showing a meticulous nature in their owner. Unfortunately the halfling doesn't find anything resembling the scrips of parchment they're looking for: not in the writing case containing paper, ink and pens, not in the lockbox with various components for spells, not in the chest containing more scrolls and books.
The two mages aren't any more lucky; the papers and notes don't cover anything Blund didn't already know about, topics that are part of Vlerick's official studies.
Dorian and Zade however stumble on something curious, albeit more due to luck than wisdom. Accidentally overturning a chair, they hear a muted hollow sound when it hits the floor. Maybe there's a secret compartment under the rug? If there is, it's very well hidden and no magic is used to hide or secure it. But then, in a tower full of wizards that would actually make sense.
Magister Finnisvale casts another spell to make sure, but the packages are not magically warded or treated in any way. Vlerick must have reasoned that doing so would only be counterproductive with so many wizards around.
Arvindur lays the packages on the floor, and unwraps them one by one, breaking the seal and exposing the contents.
The first package contains a map of the city, showing a number of locations. The outer ones are virtually identical to what Arvindur came up with but the inner ones form two triangles, one inside the other. Vlerick has definitely done his homework.
The second one contains five other scrips of parchment, similar to the one Volos restored. Their contents have been brought up as well, though much more crudely. They're legible though. There are numbers written very finely in some of the corners, most crossed out again.
The last one, the biggest package, contains a bundle of notes. They probably contain everything Vlerick compiled about the Folly and what he managed to find out about the parchments, but unfortunately everything is coded. A few words spring out to the mages on a first review, but otherwise everything is impossible to decipher.
OoC
The map will have to wait until I get home. ;)
"If I were to hazard a wild guess, Vlerick is having an unhealthy amount of interest in something he dismissed so thoroughly. He may be attempting to hijack or divert the ritual to his benefit..."
"If I were to hazard a wild guess, Vlerick is having an unhealthy amount of interest in something he dismissed so thoroughly. He may be attempting to hijack or divert the ritual to his benefit..."
"It's safe to say he was hoping to convince you to dismiss the possibility of real magic being involved."
Blund accepts the scrips of parchment and quickly looks them over.
"These seem to confirm our earlier suspicions, magister Finnisvale. All together they wil make up a phrase or a word or something."
Dorian, looking along over the dwarf's shoulder, points at the tiny numbers.
"Those could indicate the order Vlerick thought they go in."
"I certainly hope he was, but the secrecy does not exactly put him in the best light. But first, lets see what they say." Arvindur places the numbered pieces in sequence, then extracted the recovered sections and laid them on the desk.
"No doubt he did so for his own interests, not for your well-being."
Magister Blund sighs.
"Whatever happens, this will be the end of Vlerick's career at the Hightower. His actions have been inexcusable and his intentions morally unacceptable. This institute will not be associated with the likes of him."
The Bluebird meanwhile is looking at the row of parchments Arvindur laid out.
"He was on the right track but there are several positions that are educated guesses, not certainties. What Volos recreated brings us closer, though we still need more. At this point I'm convinced we're looking for a name, I'll say that much."
. o O (Mmm hmm. Front steps sized for long'uns, eh? Typical, very very typical. As though there weren't a short person in the world that might want to do a little arcane study at all.)
Mind firmly set, Sliverny begins the odious process of conquering steps half her size. Upon attaining ascension to the very topmost step she pushes her way through the door and into the reception area.
"I am a wizard."she states, "and I require lodging."
"I am a wizard."she states, "and I require lodging."
"Welcome to the Hightower then," the elderly woman behind the reception desk says, getting up to provide a clearer view and coming round to the other side. She's quite short for a human herself, so the desk would otherwise prevent Sliverny from seeing her face completely.
"Have you been here before, or do you perchance know one of our residents? Will your stay be a prolongued one, or are you just passing through?"
Upon entering the building Sliverny can faintly feel the effect of numerous spells and wards briefly settling on her, the sheer amount almost a tangible weight, although the notion passes almost immediately.
"Welcome to the Hightower then," the elderly woman behind the reception desk says, getting up to provide a clearer view and coming round to the other side. She's quite short for a human herself, so the desk would otherwise prevent Sliverny from seeing her face completely.
"Have you been here before, or do you perchance know one of our residents? Will your stay be a prolongued one, or are you just passing through?"
"I expect to be here for a very long time madam. A room near an alchemical laboratory would be best." Sliverny makes eyes about the room, gauging the quality of the mages therein by their runes, spells, or what have you.
"I expect to be here for a very long time madam. A room near an alchemical laboratory would be best." Sliverny makes eyes about the room, gauging the quality of the mages therein by their runes, spells, or what have you.
While there are no mages present to be assessed other than the woman she's talking to - who is impossible to read, given that she doesn't seem to be using any personal magic and is neutrally dressed - the auras of generations of wizards have seeped into the very walls of the Hightower. Anyone with a measure of talent, perceptive of not, can't help but sense the massive amounts of power this structure has witnessed.
"I see. In that case, your skill and mastery of the arts will need to be determined. Not just as a resident of the Tower, but also because of regulations imposed by the city on practicioners within its walls.
Could you indicate your level of knowledge, perhaps demonstrate a spell that's typical for your repertoire?"
OOC
My normal prepared spells are Silent Image, Enlarge Person, and True Strike for 1st level spells. Generally, my 0 levels will be 2 prestidigitations, 1 detect poison, and 1 ghost sound)
My normal prepared spells are Silent Image, Enlarge Person, and True Strike for 1st level spells. Generally, my 0 levels will be 2 prestidigitations, 1 detect poison, and 1 ghost sound)
Sliverny rubs her hands together rapidly, steps next to the lady, and slaps her on the arm. "GINORMICA(enlarge person)!"
The woman looks a little bemused by the unexpected gesture, but nothing happens.
"Excuse me? I expect your spell was lacking in strength, or wards placed on me blocked the effect. What exactly was its purpose?"
Show
This old lady's Fortitude is not to be underestimated, it seems. Sorry about that, Sliverny.
The woman looks a little bemused by the unexpected gesture, but nothing happens.
"Excuse me? I expect your spell was lacking in strength, or wards placed on me blocked the effect. What exactly was its purpose?"
The gnome stares dumbly at the lady and mutters something like "You were supposed to get bigger."
. o O (Alright, how about this one!)
Not to be undone, she crinkles her knuckles, claps loudly, and points at the floor beside the door. "FS'WALLY(Silent Image: a wall in place of the door."
Not to be undone, she crinkles her knuckles, claps loudly, and points at the floor beside the door. "FS'WALLY(Silent Image: a wall in place of the door."
"Ah!"
The woman's eyes brighten when she sees Sliverny's spell take effect, shaping an image.
"I see - illusions are so often a gnomish specialty, are they not? Very well. Would you say this spell accurately represents your magical ability? It assuredly demonstrates you have mastered the fundamentals, but I'm afraid this does rank you among our students. As such, lodging can only be provided by the Hightower if you choose to receive your education here and become an apprentice, accepting the duties this entails. Of course, housing could also be provided for an appropriate fee, freeing you from these obligations."
"Do you mean to tell me that spell was only on par with your apprentices?"
. o O (Obviously they must have very talented apprentices.)
Sliverny hems and haws, pretending to mull over the concept very carefully. After a few moments of hand to chin thinking, she pretends to have made up her mind. "Very well, I will apprentice myself to this institution. What do you require of me?"
She rests on her crooked staff patiently, soaking in the decorum.
. o O (It is decidedly more wizardly than a burrow or hovel. I shall need to ammend my personal rune to reflect this new status. Perhaps setting it atop a tower, or within.)
"Very well, I will apprentice myself to this institution. What do you require of me?"
"Quite simply this, that you will represent this institute with the respect and dignity it is due and that you will abide by your teachers' requests and contribute to the advancement of the Hightower's knowledge.
In return, you will be provided with a education in the arcane that is the envy of many a wizards' school in this realm and others and such mundane needs as food and lodging will be taken care of at the Tower's expense.
I trust you will find this a fair exchange."
The woman veritably beams, proud of the grand institute of learning she is a part of.
"Quite simply this, that you will represent this institute with the respect and dignity it is due and that you will abide by your teachers' requests and contribute to the advancement of the Hightower's knowledge.
In return, you will be provided with a education in the arcane that is the envy of many a wizards' school in this realm and others and such mundane needs as food and lodging will be taken care of at the Tower's expense.
I trust you will find this a fair exchange."
The woman veritably beams, proud of the grand institute of learning she is a part of.
"Very well. I have respect and dignity in excess. I accept."
. o O (Did I just accept twice?)
"Now, show me to my lodging. I have walked a very long way and have very short legs."
"We'll just have to investigate the other, anticipated points on the map. Wnat kind of name does it seem to be?"
"Either a devil or a demon, it seems - more likely the latter, but both are possible. The glyphs being Infernal already gives it away, of course. It's unfortunate that I can't be certain with the parts we have now, but there is too much yet that is undetermined. One or two more of these parchments might be enough."
Magister Finnisvale frowns, frustrated by the puzzle before her.
"At least this means Vlerick won't be any further either," Blund interjects.
"If he's foolish enough to pursue this in secret, he'll definitely be foolish enough to think he can turn this whole mess to his advantage."
"Good point, magister."
The Bluebird sighs.
"I will return to my personal quarters at the Guild compound. Perhaps I can narrow the possibilities down some. I have extensive genealogies and exhortations on bloodlines there. It's looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack, but we might get lucky.
Master Arvindur, will you and your companions go to the remaining sites on the map? Try the outermost first, and try them all until you find one you're certain that is hasn't been used yet. It will give us a better idea of the time left and maybe you'll be able to set up a trap there."
"Very well. I have respect and dignity in excess. I accept."
. o O (Did I just accept twice?)
"Now, show me to my lodging. I have walked a very long way and have very short legs."
The woman frowns - perhaps expecting a little more respect from the new apprentice, especially after just having explained the expectations for Sliverny's conduct - but doesn't make a point of it.
"First things first. Being among the advanced students, able to cast true spells beyond more cantrips, you will need a licence. One for your level is free, but when you increase your ability sufficiently to require a new one the Hightower will cover the fee. Also, I have to enter your name and sundry details in our records.
The licence - without which it is strictly forbidden to practice arcane magic inside the city walls - will be ready for you when you wish to go out again. I do require your name though."
"Either a devil or a demon, it seems - more likely the latter, but both are possible. The glyphs being Infernal already gives it away, of course. It's unfortunate that I can't be certain with the parts we have now, but there is too much yet that is undetermined. One or two more of these parchments might be enough."
Magister Finnisvale frowns, frustrated by the puzzle before her.
"At least this means Vlerick won't be any further either," Blund interjects.
"If he's foolish enough to pursue this in secret, he'll definitely be foolish enough to think he can turn this whole mess to his advantage."
"Good point, magister."
The Bluebird sighs.
"I will return to my personal quarters at the Guild compound. Perhaps I can narrow the possibilities down some. I have extensive genealogies and exhortations on bloodlines there. It's looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack, but we might get lucky.
Master Arvindur, will you and your companions go to the remaining sites on the map? Try the outermost first, and try them all until you find one you're certain that is hasn't been used yet. It will give us a better idea of the time left and maybe you'll be able to set up a trap there."
"We shall make haste, then. The earlier we start, the more likely to run into the perpetrator, or Vlerick, in his own investigations. By the way Magister Blund, how should we deal with your former apprentice, should we encounter him? And how should we best contact you regarding further clues?"
"A license!? My goodness, so you have garnered a monopoly on wizardry in the city?" Sliverny pauses to mull it over, "that's brilliant. I ought to have done the same no doubt.
"The measure is imposed by the city. Tradesmen and artisans are required to pay to be allowed to practice their craft as well, why should wizardry be exempt? The Hightower is authorized to organize this in practice, since it takes magic to regulate magicians. Obviously we are reimbursed, but the lion's share of the proceeds goes to the tax collector, as it should be."
My name is Sliverny False-Eye Hop-Toe Pan-Face Blanket-Hands Kick-Foot Small-Round of House Bislipur-in-exile. We are very well established."
The woman doesn't blink an eye.
"Sliverny Bislipur will be satisfactory for the licence then? Your full name will be used in our records, of course.
My name is mrs. Greenriver. I run the staff that keeps the Tower going from day-to-day, and am an alumna myself. I graduated almost 35 years ago now, so there is very little I don't know about this institute and those living here. If you have any questions regarding your stay, don't hesitate to come and see me. You'll often be able to find me here, since I like seeing what manner of folk pass through our doors."
Sliverny doesn't notice mrs. Greenriver do anything to summon anyone, but a heartbeat before a junior apprentice enters the hall the old lady turns towards the door, clearly expecting him.
"Algernon, meet our newest apprentice. Show her to the vacant room in the Quartz Wing, the one on the second floor, and see that she is provided with everything she needs."
"Very well, mrs. Greenriver."
Algernon - a half-elf adolescent, as far as Sliverny can see - nods politely.
"If you'll follow me, miss?"
"We shall make haste, then. The earlier we start, the more likely to run into the perpetrator, or Vlerick, in his own investigations. By the way Magister Blund, how should we deal with your former apprentice, should we encounter him? And how should we best contact you regarding further clues?"
"You may detain him any way you see fit short of killing him, master Arvindur. The Hightower will not oppose you in this. In fact, I'd like a chance to have a few words with him.
If you more information we need to know about, contact either myself or magister Finnisvale, whichever is faster. We can get in touch with each other using magic. As long as you're in the city, that means coming to me. I'll notify mrs. Greenriver that you're to be shown to my rooms immediately if you ask, regardless of the hour. She'll make sure whoever is in charge of dealing with visitors is instructed accordingly."
. o O (Oh gods, Sliverny Bislipur. What an abominable name. Why can't long'uns use proper names like Sliverny False-Eye or, or... or Sliverny False-Eye.)
She keeps her eyes on the twitching hem of the apprentices robe.
"You may detain him any way you see fit short of killing him, master Arvindur. The Hightower will not oppose you in this. In fact, I'd like a chance to have a few words with him.
If you more information we need to know about, contact either myself or magister Finnisvale, whichever is faster. We can get in touch with each other using magic. As long as you're in the city, that means coming to me. I'll notify mrs. Greenriver that you're to be shown to my rooms immediately if you ask, regardless of the hour. She'll make sure whoever is in charge of dealing with visitors is instructed accordingly."
Arvindur nods, then ushers his crew out, it was time for more fieldwork.
Show
Where to now?
Where to now?
She keeps her eyes on the twitching hem of the apprentices robe.
Algernon, the apprentice, politely takes Sliverny's bag with a questioning look to make sure she doesn't mind.
"It's not far, miss. Several key doorways act as shortcuts, they'll take you directly to the wing or general area of the Tower you wish to go. It would take too much time to navigate the entire structure otherwise. Your room is in the Quartz Wing with the other apprentices of first rank, those who have mastered the fundamentals. There are seven others at the moment. You're number eight, that's a good sign. Eight is a powerful number. But you already knew that, of course."
He prattles on about various things, but is true to his word: after one stairway and two short corridors, they arrive at what is to be Sliverny's room until she attains a higher rank. Algernon opens the unlocked door and lets the gnome in. It's a single room, but quite spacious: square, perhaps seven yards from wall to wall and with a fairly pleasant view out of the line of windows taking up most of the wall opposite the door. The second floor isn't quite high enough to get a panoramic view, but the Hightower is located in the midst of the more well-to-do neighbourhoods so the nearby houses and gardens are lavish and tasteful. There is one solid oak desk to work on, a large wardrobe in the same style and a single bed - all human-sized though.
"We can replace the furniture, if you wish, and we should have some extra chairs and tables and such to fill out the room as well. Is there anything else you require at the moment?"
Arvindur nods, then ushers his crew out, it was time for more fieldwork.
It's quite pleasant outside: sunny, with a light breeze. At least it wouldn't be too dreadful to stake out possible locations for Vlerick or the mage trying to accomplish the ritual to appear.
Show
Gack! Forgot the map: I hope this works...
You can use Elsewhere if you're going to investigate the remaining sites.
You can use Elsewhere if you're going to investigate the remaining sites.
Algernon, the apprentice, politely takes Sliverny's bag with a questioning look to make sure she doesn't mind.
"It's not far, miss. Several key doorways act as shortcuts, they'll take you directly to the wing or general area of the Tower you wish to go. It would take too much time to navigate the entire structure otherwise. Your room is in the Quartz Wing with the other apprentices of first rank, those who have mastered the fundamentals. There are seven others at the moment. You're number eight, that's a good sign. Eight is a powerful number. But you already knew that, of course."
He prattles on about various things, but is true to his word: after one stairway and two short corridors, they arrive at what is to be Sliverny's room until she attains a higher rank. Algernon opens the unlocked door and lets the gnome in. It's a single room, but quite spacious: square, perhaps seven yards from wall to wall and with a fairly pleasant view out of the line of windows taking up most of the wall opposite the door. The second floor isn't quite high enough to get a panoramic view, but the Hightower is located in the midst of the more well-to-do neighbourhoods so the nearby houses and gardens are lavish and tasteful. There is one solid oak desk to work on, a large wardrobe in the same style and a single bed - all human-sized though.
"We can replace the furniture, if you wish, and we should have some extra chairs and tables and such to fill out the room as well. Is there anything else you require at the moment?"
"Yes, I would most certainly wish to have furniture more appropriate to my size. Although... the bed may remain in it's current shape."
Sliverny watches Algernon go, pleased to see him so studious.
. o O (So, eighth student eh? It's not normally done, but I shall apply myself a new name. Sliverny Eight-Mage, excellent.)
Traversing the room, she stands on tip toe to stare out the window. Frustrated by the difficulty, she climbs all the way up onto the sill. The city, still only relatively high up, she regards the pleasant city below.
. o O (I seem to have made an excellent choice, as I should have known I would, in coming here. A proper tower for a proper wizard, the situation is entirely acceptable.)
Leaping back down from the window sill, Sliverny is surprised to hear a knock. Scurrying over to the door on her very short legs, she opens it slowly to see Algernon again.
"Yes?"
Algernon steps to the side.
"The furniture is here miss, please stand back to let the spell do it's work."
Moving gingerly away from the door, unseen servants march in bearing small chairs, table, wardrobe, and desk, setting them down in pleasing arrangements and carting away the medium sized accoutrements to places unknown. After the last bit of furniture has been 'floated' away, Algernon steps back into the doorway. "Anything else miss?"
Flabbergasted by the expenditure of magic, Sliverny shakes her head and shuts the door after a polite farewell. She climbs into the chair, testing it for comfort and is quite pleased. Slipping out of the shair, she moseys over to her satchel and begins unloading her various texts and tomes, stuffing her book shelves accordingly. Finally the last tome, her spellbook, is lain within her pillowsheet below the stuffing.
. o O (I have born far too many a prank at the detrement of my spellbook.)
A short while later, after a time spent inspecting the room thoroughly, Sliverny comes to a realization.
. o O (Agameterex help me find the bathroom.)
Sliverny abandons the room, noting that the doorknob is still quite high for her, for the hall. Looking left and right she sees no clear demarcation of a restroom.
. o O (And I haven't a spell to find it! Curses!)
She stomps off to her right, rapping her staff as politely as possible, given the circumstances, against her neighbor's door. Precious minutes pass without answer and she gingerly tries the handle.
Finding it locked she assumes that it is not the bathroom and moves on to the next door, again politely rapping though a bit more urgently than before and waiting what seems to be an interminable amount of time. A rather tall and portly human answers, dressed in vermillion robes and head snapping back and forth, alighting on the be-lanterned staff and following it down to the gnome.
"Colleague, I am in search of the bathroom. Please direct me towards it with haste."
The human peers back at her disdainfully, "I'm sure you're nose will help you find it," he draws in a particular amount of disdain "gnome." The door shuts expressively.
Sliverny briefly regrets disavowing all knowledge of Evocation.
She moves across the hallf, knocking again with the staff, nearly panicked, and staring. To her relief a dwarf answers, beard all a glitter with gem dust. "Venerable colleague, I am in search of the bathroom. Please direct me with haste." She begins shifting from foot to foot and crossing her legs. Most of which is barely noticable within the folds of her robe.
"Sher lass, it'd be the fair last door t'yer left whot before ye come in'ta th' hall. Now shuffle off with ye." The dwarf too closes the door, though less violently than the jowely human but Sliverny is already off towards the door.
. o O (Curse these gnomish legs!)
Jerking the door open she sees, much to her relief, that it is both a bathroom and entirely unoccupied. Despite her hesitation at it (again) being human sized she rejoices.
A few minutes later she reappears from the door and marches off to her room, pausing to mark the fat human's door in her mind.
. o O (There seems to be an undesirable lack of food. I shall remedy this.)
She stops on her way out the door.
. o O (Spell matrices, blast!)
Gathering the dignity she lost to no one in particular, Sliverny returns to her pillow and draws out her spellbook. Carrying it over to the desk she begins to meticulously pour over her spells.
Murmering distractedly, "I can fit Ginormicoa here, and Fs'y there." She dumps True Strike from her matrix, "I can squeeze another Fs'y over here, but that would leave six matrices only partially filled. If I slide Ginormicoa over here and shift Fs'y one below and to the left, then Fs'y two will slide here, leaving only three partially full matrices. Then the cantrips can all fit on the last matrix. Cakifons would be easiest. Perhaps two Cakifon and a Reducto ad Venorum." Sliverny shuts the book and her eyes, mentally tallying up her spell matricies.
. o O (Those all seem to fit. I should quite like to manage a more complex system of matricies. But perhaps I shall learn such things here.)
Satisfied, she returns to the door, satchel on shoulder and spellbook in satchel, to find anyone capable of handling her food requirements.
"Mornin', wee lassie. Ye found yer wae den yesterev'nin, didcha? Onna wae to th' mess, innit. Jes foller me belly, 'swot I do - aye?"
In the corridor, Sliverny bumps into the dwarf who was so helpful in giving her directions to the bathroom last night.
"Mornin', wee lassie. Ye found yer wae den yesterev'nin, didcha? Onna wae to th' mess, innit. Jes foller me belly, 'swot I do - aye?"
. o O (How could anyone manage the proper pronunciations of spells with such a thick brouge.)
"Yes, esteemed collegue, I am indeed headed for an eating establishment." Sliverny realizes that she is standing stock still. "Just as soon as I determine its direction."
. o O (Sigh, which ought to be the specialty of a diviner. A curse on my gnomish heritage and is illusory predisposition; a thousand curses upon it.)
"Do you know the direction of a dining establishment?"
The dwarf rubs his belly - quantity seems to matter more than quality for him, although his girt isn't all that disproportionate. In fact, he looks fairly solid. He probably isn't the bookish kind of wizard (relatively speaking, of course).
"Yer be lookin' tae spend coin or jes fillin' up fer free? De free grub's no' bad, innit, 'cept it's bland an' get's borin' suun. Ne'er runs ou' tho'."
The dwarf rubs his belly - quantity seems to matter more than quality for him, although his girt isn't all that disproportionate. In fact, he looks fairly solid. He probably isn't the bookish kind of wizard (relatively speaking, of course).
"I have ground my teeth upon salted ham and wild berries for the better part of three weeks. At the moment I am quite sure that any such substance excluding the aforementioned would be quite palatable."
She continues, "Perhaps en route to the "mess" you could regale me with the manner in which you came to be a wizard, as your physical conditioning appears antithetical to a life of rigorous study."
Sliverny eagerly awaits the chance to follow the dwarf to any source of nourishment.
"I have ground my teeth upon salted ham and wild berries for the better part of three weeks. At the moment I am quite sure that any such substance excluding the aforementioned would be quite palatable."
She continues, "Perhaps en route to the "mess" you could regale me with the manner in which you came to be a wizard, as your physical conditioning appears antithetical to a life of rigorous study."
"Shame. Ah was 'opin' ye'd be inna muud ta be buyin' fer th' both o' us. Aye, well."
The dwarf shows Sliverny through a door at the end of the hallway, one floor down, and suddenly they find themselves in an entirely different part of the Tower.
"'Ere we are. Jes take a seat, staff'll be 'ere inna minnit."
Through an open door a large hall beckons. Long tables are laid out, waiting for hungry wizards to come find sustenance.
"As fer me becomin' a mage, ah'm jes guud a' it. Canna deny talent, innit. Ah take be'er tae de pract'cal tho, ye ken? Magic's guud ta 'ave, but 'ands on along wi' magic's e'en be'er."
"Shame. Ah was 'opin' ye'd be inna muud ta be buyin' fer th' both o' us. Aye, well."
The dwarf shows Sliverny through a door at the end of the hallway, one floor down, and suddenly they find themselves in an entirely different part of the Tower.
"'Ere we are. Jes take a seat, staff'll be 'ere inna minnit."
Through an open door a large hall beckons. Long tables are laid out, waiting for hungry wizards to come find sustenance.
"As fer me becomin' a mage, ah'm jes guud a' it. Canna deny talent, innit. Ah take be'er tae de pract'cal tho, ye ken? Magic's guud ta 'ave, but 'ands on along wi' magic's e'en be'er."
. o O (As though I would grant a stranger, even a helpful one, access to my purse! Harrumph!)
Sliverny follows, clicking her way along with the staff and lantern.
. o O (My Goddess! What a sight.)
For once Sliverny is taken completely by surprise, staring down through the massive room. Heavy wooden tables, ribbed limestone ceiling, and many other delights astound her...
. o O (Except the chairs, there are never properly sized chairs for such races as mine. Never, long'un-centric world. This is most assuredly discrimination of the highest degree.)
She gingerly crawls up onto the bench next to the dwarf, who had already begun explaining his rational for pursuing wizardry.
"I'm afraid I fail to understand. Firstly, hands are quite necessary for a number of spells and secondly, magic is quite entirely the most powerful force in the world, Agametrex aside. What could be more practical than studying the complex traceries and structures of the arcane? Whatever one can do with their hands, the proper application of arcana can accomplish equally or better."
As they wait, food arrives in all its splendorous beige. The serving maid hurries about setting bowls before people and hurrying back to the kitchen for more. Sliverny eyes the porridge and takes a brave spoonful. It is bland.
. o O (Wait, this is the perfect opportunity to prove my point!)
"Our porridge, for example, can be enlived with the application of my very weakest spell had I prepared it this morning. A simple Succulentia Generalis would give this whatever flavor I cared to imagine. Of course, I'd need to rework my spell matricies to fit one in at the moment, but that's hardly the point. Arcana could prepare better food from the same base ingredients."
Sliverny spoons a little more porridge into her mouth, bland though it is she finds it a good sight better than salted pork and berries.
"So, esteemed collegue, tell me what they expect of us here. I gather that you've attended the guild for longer than I."
. o O (Diviners ought to know that sort of thing already though. How shameful.)
"I'm afraid I fail to understand. Firstly, hands are quite necessary for a number of spells and secondly, magic is quite entirely the most powerful force in the world, Agametrex aside. What could be more practical than studying the complex traceries and structures of the arcane? Whatever one can do with their hands, the proper application of arcana can accomplish equally or better."
As they wait, food arrives in all its splendorous beige. The serving maid hurries about setting bowls before people and hurrying back to the kitchen for more. Sliverny eyes the porridge and takes a brave spoonful. It is bland.
. o O (Wait, this is the perfect opportunity to prove my point!)
"Our porridge, for example, can be enlived with the application of my very weakest spell had I prepared it this morning. A simple Succulentia Generalis would give this whatever flavor I cared to imagine. Of course, I'd need to rework my spell matricies to fit one in at the moment, but that's hardly the point. Arcana could prepare better food from the same base ingredients."
"Da's where yer wrong, lass. Ye culd be'er th' flav'r, bu' twuld nae be be'er fuud. If'n ye make burnt p'rridge taste like bluub'ry pie, it's still jes burnt p'rridge. Shouldnae 'ave burnt it inna f'rst place, aye? No' this p'rridge 'ere, jes sayin'.
Same wi' yer magic'l artifac's, ye ken? If tis a magic'l sword ye want, ye be needin' a guud sword firstly. Canna jes conjure up any ol' sword to magick. Ruuns need ta be carved jes so, or they be werthless. Ah culd go on, bu' ye get th' point: magic may make things be'er, bu' un'ess ye use de real big stuff, reali'y-changin' stuff, th' fund'mental objec' stays th' same - flaws an'all."
"So, esteemed collegue, tell me what they expect of us here. I gather that you've attended the guild for longer than I."
"Yer 'spected tae become powerf'll, innit. If'n ye become strong, th' Tower benefits. Does nae matter 'ow, ye'll get pushed any way th' teachers see fit fer yer character - buuk learnin' firs' tho."
"Yer 'spected tae become powerf'll, innit. If'n ye become strong, th' Tower benefits. Does nae matter 'ow, ye'll get pushed any way th' teachers see fit fer yer character - buuk learnin' firs' tho."
"Why, yes. I rather do expect to become powerful. I should certainly hope to not waste my time over and over again for the mere purposes of staying the same."
"Which teachers have you studied under thus far? Have you been instructed by masters of divination? I am quite sorely hoping to learn a great deal about the divinatory studies."
Sliverny continues to chew the admitedly semi-decent-ish porridge. All the while listening to the dwarf's strong accent.
"And where did you acquire your accent, colleague?" Sliverny takes up another spoonful porridge, "I am thoroughly unfamiliar with it's placement."
Sliverny takes in the great dining hall as the dwarf responds, admiring the room.
"Why, yes. I rather do expect to become powerful. I should certainly hope to not waste my time over and over again for the mere purposes of staying the same."
"Fer sure, yer no' jes meant tae become powerf'll fer th' sake o' power. They'll be keepin' a keen eye on wot ye get up tae wi' yer spells. Ye dinna 'ave tae be a guudy-tuu-shuus, bu' if yer proon tae excess there'll be trouble."
"Which teachers have you studied under thus far? Have you been instructed by masters of divination? I am quite sorely hoping to learn a great deal about the divinatory studies."
"We're gettin' a complete educ'tion at oor lev'l. Get tae know th' essence o' ever'thin' first, afore ye muuv on tae th' nex' degree o' mast'ry. Yer allowed tae skip one field if'n ye show partic'lar skill in another. Ah dinna chuuse tae do tha', bu' some o' oor feller 'prentices did. 'S a big decision tae make, ye canna take it back la'er on - bes' think it thru.
We be gettin' all oor classes from th' same instruct'r: magister Banna. She's an elf, bu' some say she be an oger inna transform'tion spell, 'cause she can be 'arsh with them as try 'er patience. Ah 'appen tae think it's jes suutabl' b'havior, tho I didna 'spect it of an elf.."
"And where did you acquire your accent, colleague?" Sliverny takes up another spoonful porridge, "I am thoroughly unfamiliar with it's placement."
"Accent? Think ah 'appened tae pick up another feller's tongue or som'thin'? Ah was born tae it. Canna all sound like them longleg city folk, innit. Or worse - 'n elf!"
Sliverny drops the sizable (relatively) distance from the bench to the ground, offers the dwarf a brisk hand-shake, and does her best to retrace the steps that lead them to the food distributory. "Left at the largish door with the carved dragon's head..." At length she arrives, no worse for wear and crawls up into her bed. Sliverny reachs in her pillowcase for her spellbook and finds it absent.
. o O (NO!)
And quickly spots it on the desk... where she left it.
. o O (I do wonder if I am too absent minded for divinatory specializations. Or perhaps that is precisely the reason such specialization is entirely necessary. If I cannot keep my head on straight, I shall have to use magic to do so for me)
Crawling out of the bed she lifts the dense tome from the desk and carries it back over to her bed for some light reading.
[sblock=Chapter 1, Cantrips (it's written in code)]
¨
She crawls off the bed and scurries about the room, gathering up her satchel, spell tome, and staff, briefling forgetting and then remembering to grab her component pouch. Tossing the heavy satchel over her shoulder, Sliverny takes up the staff, with it's lantern firmly affixed and shuttered, and heads out again. Looking about the corridor, Sliverny decides to take a detour to the bathroom, to ensure that she doesn't suffer for lack of one later.
Feeling much refreshed, Sliverny departs the venerable room and shuffles off again. She looks about rather cautiously for signs that might indicate where a particular passage goes. Finding none, she continues meandering about the halls. As she wanders, she takes in the gorgeous architecture.
. o O (Oh my, what magnificent stonework and quality.)
After a period of aimless wandering, Sliverny comes upon a window somewhat higher than her own overlooking the city.
. o O (Fascinating, what a panorama. Oh, and the windows themselves are quite a treat! That is magnificent archwork and the carvings of... of... various mages I suppose, are quite lifelike.)
She brushes some accumulated cobwebs and dust from their feet, but finds no names.
. o O (Never the less, they look very regal.)
Turning about to ensure there is no one around, she immitates their poses, one by one.
. o O (I wonder how they'll handle carving a gnome into a mounting. Perhaps they've got a separate window in which they keep statuettes of the shorter folk.)
She examines the scrollwork about the windows and the support structures of the windows themselves for a while, idley inventing stories for the mages with whom she is unfamiliar.
. o O (I suppose they had their own towers once, perhaps. I doubt anything could match the majesty of this one though. Well, maybe an archmage's tower could match the majesty. After all, a tower for one needn't be nearly as wide as this.)
Moving on, Sliverny believes she is going somewhat in a downstairs direction, perhaps towards the entrance, passing fellow wizards and servants as she goes.
Sliverny huffs her way down the stairs, standing quite clearly in the entrance lobby having no idea at what point she transfered to this particular area. She glares about irritably as she tries to work it out.
"Mrs. Greenriver, I've an inquery. From whom am I to receive initial instruction?"
"Mrs. Greenriver, I've an inquery. From whom am I to receive initial instruction?"
"Ah, miss Bislipur. I trust you are settling in well?
Green apprentices, such as yourself, are taught by magister Bana. She will deepen your understanding of the different schools of magic and teach the fabrication of scrolls to aid in coming to fully understand spell structure. Also, if you do not already have one, she can show you how to choose and bond a familiar.
Classes are taught in her own instruction room in the Ivory Wing, next to her personal quarters, every day between the 9th and 12th bell - save on Adinyan, when the magister can focus on her own affairs. Attendance is not mandatory - though certainly recommended - unless Magister Bana tells you otherwise. This is because students are left a relatively free hand in choosing their curriculum. Of course, those not showing the necessary diligence will be asked to mend their ways or if they will not do so, be withheld from further education.
It being Adinjian today, the magister will not be teaching. I think it would be a fine idea for you to seek an audience with her, however, so you may introduce yourself and work out a mutually agreeable direction for your immediate studies."
Mrs Greenriver explains Sliverny where to find the Ivory Wing and magister Bana's quarters.
"Thank you." Sliverny immediately begins following Mrs. Greenriver's directions to the Ivory Wing.
. o O (My my, I thought the whole wing would actually be made of Ivor...)
Sliverny does not see a wing full of ivory, but a pair of marvelous statuse carved of white marble to strike her fancy.
. o O (Now this will be a fitting memoria of my accomplishments one day! Quite!)
Sliverny continues on, regretfully tearing her eyes away from the marvelous statues and into the actual Ivory Wing in search of Magister Ba...
. o O (Alright, lets find Magister Bannnnn... What was her name. Banal? Banana, no it's not banana. I was just thinking a moment ago how Bana wouldn't make any sense for a name. Clearly it's something other than Bana, but what? It sounded like Bana. Banal? Brana? Banana! That was it, Magister Banana! What an absolutely strange name.)
Confident again, Sliverny heads off in search of Magister Banana.
. o O (I rather like this wing.)
...that Sliverny takes the time to appreciate. Looking down she studies the stone bench that she had to crawl up onto before huffing down onto it. It's quite artfully carved, she forces herself to admit, but not so incredible as the architecture. She pulls her tome from the satchel and begins reading meticulously through it's pages.
. o O (Surely there is some method by which I could compact these spells' shapes to better fit them into my spall matrix. Let me make some notes...wait, no ink nor quill. Double pox! Even with just a quill I could jot notes in blood if necessary.)
Exhaggerated sigh.
She returned her musings to the architecture, to take her mind off things.
. o O (Overall the architecture here isn't so different really. Although it might be nicer if... oh, no, I see why they did that. Nevermind, it's really quite pleasant.)
Growing listless, the little gnome wiggles her fingers about, thinking, and settles on Ghost Sound. She draws herself up in her chair and makes an imperious command to no one in particular. "Cakifons Violanin" Filling the gap, barely audible to anyone away from the bench, is the soft playing a violin song once heard wafting out of an Inn betwixt Garic's and the Bislipur Estates. Slowy the music fades out, leaving Sliverny humming gently and off-key.
"...ll do so, magister. You may expect my results very soon."
The obsequious tone is dropped as soon as the door closes, and the snort and muttered "See about that. Not insightful! Psh..." sound anything but alike. The apprentice makes a quarter turn away from Sliverny, not noticing the gnome in his haste, and legs it away in the other direction.
. o O (Gnomish trickery, prankery, and tomfoolery have no place in an established and esteemed wizard's guild. However, he certainly deserves a good brown-pantsing or boot-switching. Maybe a hobble-nobbling would be in order, or a purple-olive. I'm willing to bet he'd not like a good half-skirting either. Not that I am considering anything of the sort...I say to myself...)
Sliverny watches intently but inobtrusively as he huffs away.
. o O (A tropsy-turve wouldn't hurt him much. Or a Shrimperor. Night-gnats would be quite unwelcome as well I imagine. Not that I'm imagining him rolling around in his bed, unable to find a side of himself that doesn't itch. I'm sure he's never bothered to read up on any sort of anti-itching powder, cream, salve, spell, cantrip, leaf, weed, root, berry, or potion; as any good gnome would know about... BUT! I am a very refined gnome. It is my nature to be very proper as an extension of the remarkable control wizards must show on a daily basis. Naturally. Of course.)
Sliverny slides off the bench without acknowledging that at the moment, nothing could possibley be further from the truth, and gathers up her walking staff.
She step-step-taps her way over to the door which the fellow apprentice has so recently abandoned and raps at it quite professionally with the hook of her staff.
. o O (After all, no right minded wizard would even Night-Gnat a colleague. I must discern if there is a supplier of such an unpleasant breed of insect in the city, for the express purposes of ensuring no wizard is ever so tempted... likely by making a very large purchase, wiping out their stocks.)
Sliverny leans on the staff as she awaits a response from Magister Banana.
Sliverny leans on the staff as she awaits a response from Magister Banana.
The door opens smoothly, without the slightest creak, and a slightly gruff voice sounds from inside the room, which looks pleasantly bright and airy, furniture in soft earth tones and creamy walls.
"Yes? Don't be standing there wasting my time: come inside and speak your part."
Magister Bana - if she is the occupant of these quarters - is sitting at the far wall, just inside Sliverny's view, with her back to the door and scribbling away on a scroll of sorts, lifting her left arm to wave her visitor in without turning around to see who it is.
Sliverny leans on the staff as she awaits a response from Magister Banana.
The door opens smoothly, without the slightest creak, and a slightly gruff voice sounds from inside the room, which looks pleasantly bright and airy, furniture in soft earth tones and creamy walls. "Yes? Don't be standing there wasting my time: come inside and speak your part." Magister Bana - if she is the occupant of these quarters - is sitting at the far wall, just inside Sliverny's view, with her back to the door and scribbling away on a scroll of sorts, lifting her left arm to wave her visitor in without turning around to see who it is.
Sliverny strides into the room purposefully. "Esteemed Magister Banana, I understand that you are a wizard of exceptional experience who has shouldered the noble burden of instructing myself, and others, in the magical fields. I should like to begin my apprenticeship immediately." She waits for a second. "If it helps, I've already done the joining things with the secretary and have a quarters. I've, erm, brought my spellbook, I could translate the cipher for you if you deem in necessary."
Sliverny looks up expectantly, having only just now realized that her head does not reach over the table.
. o O (Well, I suppose I'm quite fortunate to have the staff. Unless the esteemed Magister Banana things the lantern is talking. In which case I suppose this will be awkward.