NationStates Jolt Archive

This is an attempt to restart The White Tower with old returning players and some new ones. The OOC Thread will be HERE (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=13606756#post13606756). Please try to keep comments in the appropriate Thread.






IC:



The silence of the empty mountain pass was only broken by the calls of birds and the whispering of winds. Some deer were pacing through the undergrowth, stopping at patches of delicious foliage before continuing onto the next one. Butterflies flitted about from blossom to blossom as if they had no care in the world while dragonflies buzzed lazily around the damp areas eating insects, little jewels of color sparkling in the beams of sunlight. The thick jungle canopy crawled up the pass on the south side and a virgin deciduous mix of oak, elm, pine, and maple covered the north face of the pass.

Artesian springs caused several torrents to flow down both sides of the pass, some flowing south and others north, feeding the flora and fauna in the valleys below. Overhead the yellow sun rained its life giving rays upon everything within sight. In the distance, the second moon was just beginning to show itself on the horizon.

Upon a rocky outcropping, a ring of energy appeared and expanded. The ring changed and the center became filled with thick mist, somehow contained within the ring. Through the ring stepped a single man, a male dressed in flowing robes of grey. His silver hair glistened in the sunlight and amber eyes looked about, examining the view. This had been his seventieth place he visited and none of the others were “right”. This one seemed to have some promise.

Galvenor closed his eyes and concentrated, examining the Force Lines as they snaked through the air, the ground, and every place that lay in-between. He traced where they lay, the different sizes, and even the intersections. This place was accurately empowered.

Making a decision, Galvenor reached within his cloak and pulled a small object from a hidden pocket. Grasping the bauble, he twisted it and it split in twain. As the bauble opened, Galvenor continued to manipulate it, each time unfolding the object further until there was suddenly and inexplicably a large building with many towers. The white quartz shone like a diamond in the tropical sun. Within moments, a tall tower of pure quarts stretched skyward, rising above all the other towers and roof peaks. White marble with strands of gold decorated the entire structure. The boughs of an orchard poked above the walls along the south side and one of the artesian springs bubbled water continuously through the quiet shade of the orchard.

The front of the structure faces the rising sun, greeting the day each morning while the tall towers captured the ruby rays of the setting sun, turning the quartz and marble into an illusion of flame. Dormitories for students lay empty and waiting while the towers awaited their Masters, the mages who were in charge of their own particular Sphere. Above it all a massive tower housed the library, the classrooms, the labs, and just about anything else that was needed to teach. There was even an arena that was used to settle disputes in the past or for friendly sparring between students.

Galvenor sighed and finally entered through the front gates of the College. Once inside, he looked around. Memories flashed through him of the centuries he had spent within these walls as Chancellor. He remembered Kay, James, and many of the others who lived in these halls long ago. A single tear seemed to fall from one of his amber eyes but it evaporated before it hit the ground.

Galvenor reached out and reestablished the attunement he had previously with the structure. Several Imps appeared, seemingly extensions of his will, and began to scurry about the place, seeing to the duties and upkeep.

There, I think we are ready for them to arrive.





OOC Edit:

Obviously I agree with your comment.

Oh, from this point forward, only the yet to be chosen instructorrs, Eldrad, and myself can sucessfully teleport, gate, or other means of magical travel into or out of the Tower. The defenses was ICly activated. Any sort of travel TO the tower will deposit you outside the main gates og the school grounds in the forest. Attempts from within will just fail.

Instructors will be able to travel and they can take a class with them. In the case where an instructor is going to teach the various methods of magical transportation the restrictions will be relazed on a single room or even two rooms so one can 'port from one to another.

I will edit these restrictions into the first post of both Threads so anyone joining can find them easier.

Nir'taen had left the Council in disgust, full of anger and rage that they would dare to include Necromancy in their curriculum. She shook her head as she sat down in the ornately carved chair given to her. Her hair, the purest silver, splayed out over her face as she closed her eyes, her amber pools being shut off from the world. She had been very tired out from the many shocks and stupid things, in her mind, to be seen in that council. But it was over now, as she received word that Cara had suddenly vanished, angry that they all hadn't agreed immediately. This brought a disgusted smile to her face; how some people thought everyone could get along so easily was something amazing to her. Turning, she looked at the papers in front of her, on her desk, ready for her to look at. Gazing, she saw a report that a massive burst of magical energy had been detected, similar to the one detected with the Council. She sighed, and looked at her staff, a dark gray staff with an amethyst stone set in the top. It was a simple looking staff, but through it, she was able to call upon the elemental and natural powers of her people.

Warm hands slid onto her shoulders, and a warm face pressed against hers. She relaxed as they began to massage her shoulders, and a quiet voice spoke into her ear. "Be calm, my lady. In my house, there is nothing but peace and quiet." Nir'taen turned her face to gaze into the dark blue eyes of Emperor Nanluir, her husband and leader of Atanarr. Named after the paradise that had been their kingdom before the War of Wrath, he was a wise if young Emperor, and his marriage to the High Mage of Lahaun had been a happy one. She sighed.

"How can one be relaxed when they have to deal with the idiocy inherent in the younger races?" He made a face.

"You know as well as I that they are birthed from the Second Children of Cilahr, they weren't gifted with the insight and knowledge we were given. They need time to learn and grow. Besides, we may need them if a conflict should arise that involves us." Nir'taen said nothing and closed her eyes. "Do not worry, my love. I will be going to this one." She started, looking at him, argument on her lips, her hands seeking his. He held up a hand, his silver hair shifting from the movement. "Do not argue; I do not want my half-asleep mate to go to such an important meeting. Also, this is the rebirth of the White Tower, the school run by the being you know as Galvenor." Her eyes softened and her hands fell limp at her sides.

"Just be safe. If something happened to you..." He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"I know. I will be bringing my Royal Guard, so do not fret. Now, sleep. I will tend to this." Her eyes drooped in his warm embrace and she quickly fell into slumber. Lifting himself from his position, careful to not waker her, he went to his chambers, followed by his High Guardsmen. He chose a robe of purest white, emblazoned with the magical runes that bestowed the impressive protective and supportive enchantments on the garment. In his hand he held a staff that was a long and thin pole of gray wood, with a half circle of wood that held a white jewel that floated in the middle, glowing brightly. This was the Staff of Lahuan, the one he carried with him during his time on Teniciel and gave to the Emperor to be passed down his line. It granted immunity to disease, magical power, and protected the Emperor from many threats. Along with that, he belted his sword, Ralolreas, or Guardian, which was forged during the time before the War of Wrath, and was a powerfully enchanted sword.

He nodded to his Guardsmen, who followed him out into the courtyard, where his horse, Tulael, waited along with other horses for the guardsmen. They swiftly mounted, and he journeyed to the Ihtair. The Ihtair were a series of great portals, their construction unknown and seemingly impossible. It was a great doorway, with three crystals, one set on each side and one on the top. When given the right command, the crystals would glow, separate from the door, and cause a portal to open. This was the way that beings on Teniciel could travel to other worlds. It also made a jewel someone could use to open a portal and come back. Nir'taen used it to arrive at the Council, and now Nanluir was using it to come to the White Tower. Nodding to the Guardsmen, he nudged Tulael, and headed for the doorway. Pausing before it, he closed his eyes and spoke several lines of Elvish, weaving his arms as he cast his spell to open the door to the White Tower. The crystals slowly glowed and separated, a ball of white light separating from the burgeoning portal and landing in his outstretched palm, giving him his return home. The portal flared and came into full being.

Tulael walked forward and took him into the rift, followed by the five guards. There was a flash, a sense of pulling, and then they appeared before a shockingly white tower that ranged up an immense height. Glancing around, Nanluir wondered how they would be met.

Miyu Otsuki popped into existance after apparating to the location of the White Tower.

She was her planets representative when she could get away from teaching young witches about Charm spells. Right now somebody else was covering her lessons since she had this duty to her people.

A modest sized bag was slung over her chest holding her required clothes and belongings. The bag also purred and this was Suki her tribble and familiar.

She also wore a long tanto dagger in her belt sash and her wand was also here.

Magic was a secret on her world and it would remain so even although they used their powers for the good of the people. A Witch was born on her world not made and witches school taught you how to tap into magic and control it.

So walking into the area round the tower this small woman seen a tall man and she could tell he was an elf by his grace and stature.

"Hello" she said in her gently voice as the small slender asian human walked over to him.

Tulael snorted quietly, which was his way of telling Nanluir that someone was approaching. Not that he needed to know, he had heard her footsteps and her breathing before his horse had even made a sound. Glancing over, he coaxed Tulael to turn so he could see her better. He instantly saw she was human, or at least in the shape she showed, and was rather small, with tanned skin. Gazing at her, his eyes revealed a sense of wisdom, peace with nature, and a sense of endless spans of time.

"Greetings, my lady. What brings you here to this place?"

Arkane was a fitting name for the blind man who lived alone in the woods. For he knew things that most others did not and kept those things as they were by rarely speaking about them or anything for that matter. But it also implied a certain historical aura about him, a representative of ways and views long passed and long forgotten. Ironically, he was an ancient breath of fresh air, infusing the young and hearty with ideas not visited in many a year. However, the powers that be were not done writing out their irony upon the world. While a representative of the past, living in the present, he had been imbued with the gift of foresight. And still not done writing their comedy, the powers took is eyesight, leaving him a blind seer, though somehow able in sight. That it was a rare occurrence for a vision to visit him only reinforced the authority and power that it had, even if the future was never certain and changed with every twist of the tongue and snap of the finger.

Snow fell all around the forest inhabiting cabin and in Arkane's eyes, there was a swirling mist. Not simply a reflection of the world about him, the mist filled his unseeing eyes when his farseeing eye caught glimpse of a possibility, a warning, a future. In his mind's eye, though clouded by uncertainty on the fringes, there was a sight of magnificence - a boundless tower as white as snow climbed into the blue day's sky leaving an open door for all wanting to come. Although the visions were often hard to interpret and although no future was certain, a man with visions must follow them.

When the swirling mist left his eyes, his vision beyond vision was restored to his proper surroundings. Mist was replaced with snow, obscurity with oak wood, and a roaring fire that heated the room took the place of the tower's gates. He stood, albeit slowly, latching his slender fingers to the white ash staff that lay on the bench at his side and resting some of his weight on the walking stick. Though only a few steps from the door, time and nature had taken their toll on the old man and he walked with a slow and short stride. Without ever reaching forward, the door opened, a small red spirit pulling at the heavy handle that kept the cool wind out. At the frame of the oak door, he stopped momentarily as if taking in the sights with his blind eyes before stepping forward into the snow...

But no footprint was left in the whiteness that blanketed the land. As he stepped forward, everything around him changed and he appeared in a barren landscape, brown and dusty for as far as the eye could see. But just a moment later, it too disappeared to be replaced by a vast ocean where walking on water sent him to the next world. Each step he took caused an instantaneous, seamless, effortless transportation of Arkane from one place to another, from world to world. So he set off in search of the tower of his visions and walked from world to world seeking a new home.

It was not easy to find, though it wasn't far from his woodsy cabin. Maybe a couple hundred "steps" at most, but it took him the better part of a week, including rests, which were frequent and long, to find the sight. But when he did, it was as magnificent as his vision and more. A sparkling tower of beauty that reflected the warm sun's rays, causing a sparkle to catch his empty eyes. Always aware of his surroundings, he walked forward towards the open gates that he had seen a week before and entered the White Tower...

Zena sat writing the details of her latest bit of research when a circle inscribed with runes appeared on her desk. With a quick flash of light, a letter appeared, sealed with wax bearing the symbol of the alchemic research department. Putting down her pen, she read the letter.
The wizard council meeting is going very poorly as of late. We have had a split and a couple represenatives left. One has gone to reopen his school, the White Tower. I suggest you start shoving that power of mine around and show the following letter to the dais operator and he'll send you where you need to go.
Remember, you're representing Sylvonia, so mind your manners and try to be careful. Well, more than you normally are at least. And take Chaz with you, he can send messages between the worlds so you can get home if you need to.
Once she read the end of the letter, she saw the runes at the bottom. Tracing her finger across them, she envisioned them in their proper circle, which brought the letter Joshua talked about into existence. "I do love how his magic works." she commented in her melodic alto voice. This second letter was sealed in the same manner as the first, but it also had a ring of runes around it holding it shut to all but the proper recipient. Grabbing the paper, she gathered a few things and found Chaz the cat hiding under the bed.
The walk to the military's south base was about five minutes and her status as researcher lets her go anywhere she wants. Entering the transportation room, she found the dais operator and handed him the letter. The ring of runes shattered and he read it before walking off to activate the spell. Zena stepped onto the dais with Chaz at her heels and with a flash of light, they was standing in front of the gates to a gleaming tower. She entered and found a small collection of people standing about.

Tulael snorted quietly, which was his way of telling Nanluir that someone was approaching. Not that he needed to know, he had heard her footsteps and her breathing before his horse had even made a sound. Glancing over, he coaxed Tulael to turn so he could see her better. He instantly saw she was human, or at least in the shape she showed, and was rather small, with tanned skin. Gazing at her, his eyes revealed a sense of wisdom, peace with nature, and a sense of endless spans of time.

"Greetings, my lady. What brings you here to this place?"

"I'm here to represent my world and to teach at the school. Back home I'd teach charms magic.

I'm Miyu Otsuki by the way."

Adding her name she bowed gracefuly to the elf, this being her custom.

Others were also arriving and she'd have to get to know them as well.

Somewhere nearby ... in a quiet mountain-top residence June RoverMouse started to smell something... She sniffed, it was a strange smell yet somehow familiar as if she had smelt it before but had forgotten.

"Magic!" She exclaimed to herself... for that was the only thing could be.

She looked at the result of the latest puppet that she was using in her magical experiments, it was strewn over the places as she attempted to cast a simply and small ball of fire using it.. instead the ball of fire exploded the puppet into singed remnants.

She would leave her mountain top residence.. but even as a powerful artificer she was vulnerable in her current state, so she had built a bigulator into the entrance. Entering the cave you would be scaled down and leaving the cave you would be scaled up to be somewhat in scale with humanity. It was a perfect compromise between safety and size, as indeed many things in this world were human, or at least humanoid.

She started padding down the narrow trail that lead from her lofty moutaintop residence to see who had arrived.

Marker, for a post when I return from a brief holiday.

There was something about the harbor of Zorya that seemed different from all harbors Ivan have seen before. It featured entirely wooden piers, and in its entrance a couple of guards in Mirror armor (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mirror_armour) stood with their halberds risen. Several sailing ships were ahead in the horizon, while the skies were clear and the weather of the southwestern tip of Pangaea (http://img262.imageshack.us/img262/8536/map5rp1.png) was quite pleasant. There were no noxious smog of machines to irritate his eyes and ugly the scenery, neither their humming noises to bother his ears. The tight cobblestone streets and the stone and wooden houses seemed to be a journey back into the Renaissance, of a time before the coming of the industrial revolution, for the existence of magic has halted the technological progress of Perun. This Bucolic landscape was everywhere around the Theocracy of Perun, which was not the "living hell" that Soviet propaganda claimed it was. The intolerance, they never accepted the fact he discovered he had aptitude with magic after they ended in such strange continent, in fact, he went to Perun to precisely find refuge from the persecutions and a place to contemplate his innate skills in peace. It was a difficult travel, and he had to many times stop at hospitals and borrow medicines for his big health problem. It hasn't manifested with the same frequency, as this new land has been healthier thus far. However he missed much that he left behind. His long-term wife Catalina refused to come with him, and since then loneliness has been a constant in his life. But he couldn't go back, he knew what they would do with him. But perhaps it was the time to move again, to perhaps find new opportunities and hopes, and thus he has chosen to go to such harbor.

The Pangaea was particularly counter-productive to the practice of magic. For some reason, in regions like the one where the town of Zorya was located, magic barely worked, and could do little more than start a small fire in a torch or begin the sparkle to lit an oven, or heal a minor scrap wound, it was because of the lack of Magija Kamen', an ore which apparently empowered and allowed magic to be possible in the continent, which were ironically concentrated in the same region which also had the largest supply of coal, and most, like Ivan, couldn't afford the expensive prices charged for the extremely dangerous extraction of them from a no man's land filled with legendary entities of both flesh and spirit, and they tended to last too little outside of the Badlands for some strange reason.

The closer a gifted one approached to the center north of the continent, located to the northeast from there, where the infamous Badlands stood as a monument dedicated to war and bloodshed for the god of war, the more powerful his magical abilities became. It was believed that magic simply would never work in other continents beyond Pangaea, at least not in this mysterious world none of Ivan parents knew about, and apparently the Perun inhabitants never sailing through far oceans either. However, what they knew is that to the northern sea close to the dangerous rocky littoral of the Badlands had a type of rift in reality which could be controlled by the most learned of the Conveyance magics to follow major beacons of lands where magic was more easily found and where maximizing the potential of a spell did not require getting into the middle of a scorched region filled with trenches and fortresses where arrows, stones, cannon balls and bullets were constantly flying in exchanges. He would have to find another of the few excellent environments of the planes to master white necromancy, which was also known, in a more serene term, as white magic.

Adjusting his black smock suit, he greeted the guard and was instructed to head for the direction of a longship (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/68/Vikings02.jpg) decorated with a three-headed dragon figurehead, moored to the farthest pier to the left. Taking his steps through the wooden planks which made the pier, he found the lowered wooden ramp to the longship, nothing short of a large and wide plank of wood. There an old captain, dressed in loose shirts, overcoat and pants, greeted Ivan. To his side, an old man, with about 60 years of age, was dressed in an old suit, which reminded Ivan of that man called Christopher Columbus he heard about in history classes a long time ago. The old man said, in an apparently somewhat "olde" dialect of Russian:

"Therefore, it is your wish to enter the rift. Are you prepared? It will be a long trip. And there are many possible dangers in the middle of the way. Rusalkas (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rusalkas) also stalk the seas for unwary prey, although I never heard any tale of someone surviving the witness of one, which can be both good or bad, depending on how things are. I am getting too old for this, thus this is going to be my last trip through the rift, I will have conveyance only for daily affairs as I prepare for the last decade before my departure to the land of the dead across the ocean. May Perun spare us from His storms."

---------------

The travel was, surprisingly tranquil other than some verbal arguments Ivan had against some sailors he accused of cheating during their frequent, daily card games supplying to his addiction. After some months, the longship was now sailing near the north coast of the Badlands. The weather was much colder there, although they had previously scheduled the travel to reach their destination during summer. The crew of the longship was busy trying to keep it from getting stuck at reefs as the old man came to Ivan Berezovsky and explained how it was the time:

"Usually, fifty conveyance masters are needed to empower a flying sailing ship, which is are very rare to be found for a human lifetime is barely enough to mastership of a single magic college, let alone two, but here, magic is so strong that I believe even I can do it alone. The rift is not found in the ocean, but in the skies, you can sense its presence, being merely attuned with magic already allows it to be perceived. Captain Totorov! Your men are dismissed and can rest now"

Indeed, Ivan could sense a powerful but still distant magic presence as strongly as the cold weather striking his senses. The old man became fully concentrated, sitting down holding himself to the wooden railings of the ship, and the captain simply sighed in alleviation as his skills would no longer be needed for a while. The ship started to slowly rise above the seas as a few drops of sweat came from the forehead of the old man, silent and in a meditating stance. Thus it continued going up slowly for five minutes when it stopped. There was a clear expression of alleviation on the face of the old conveyance mage as the ship now, floating, simply moved forward instead of raising more. It was apparently less demanding to move an already ship forward than to raise it, and in that meditation stance, the old man remained for the entire half hour it took for the ship to finally reach the border of the rift. It was an incredible visage. Like an aurora Borealis, but with an incredible feature of a massive whirlwind with a large eye amidst the lights. Their ship passed straight through its middle, and for a while, the magic seemed so powerful there that the old man was actually relaxing during the travel to a new realm.

Eventually, after 10 minutes journeying through the uncertainty of the rift, they were drawn to a very strong source of magic as the rift opened temporarily in the skies, surrounded by a sort of Borealis, even during daylight, and the longship came from it flying. Ahead they could visage a large, white quartz tower above a mountain. The longship started to hover down slowly near the spotted entrance of the tower, amidst a pass, as Ivan prepared to disembark. He pulled yet another vial and drank it, just in case, and awaited patiently for the ramp to touch the road as the ship floated at its side. He quickly hopped from the ship and looked around the majestic tower, from where all magic seemed to be emanating. The ship slowly hovered above again, and moved back to the rift, which closed after it like if it never existed before. There were some people standing near the gate to the tower, and there was no way for him to have made a discrete entrance with that longship, specially when the captain gave him a farewell in Russian. Walking towards the crowd slowly, to not overwork his limited physical capabilities, he observed some peculiarly strange beings, like he never seen before. Some of them were simply humans like him, but there was an humanoid rat among them, and a quite big one, which seemed the most unique. Other than him, there was a man, but he seemed too thin to be an human, and his ears were different as well. Getting into the crowd, he gave a last check for his personal belongings on a small, discrete rucksack he carried on his shoulder. The deck of cards was still there, and his vials were still there. His amulet of Perun shined to the sunlight, but was not magical at all, only symbolic (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f4/Thundermarks.svg/270px-Thundermarks.svg.png) of the god of thunder, and its symbolic nature was alone believed to protect against thunderstorms.

Trying to put in practice his very limited fluency in common language, he looked at the elf, and spoke. His one meter and seventy-three centimeters average, but clearly physically weak figure, finally getting some words, in an expectingly accented manner:

"Greetings sir. my name is Ivan Berezovsky. I am looking for a place more appropriate for the development of magic than the magic-scarce realm where I was before, and it seems I found it. Could you answer me what does this magical tower consist in?"

The Bible called it the Pale Horse, but it wasn't an equine, no matter that it could, if it chose, look like such. J'age called it hers. Currently it looked much like a highly advanced aero space fighter, though nothing close to the design existed. It pleased it to look like this since she who claimed it preferred to fly whenever possible. However it did not actually fly, as it was in no way bound by the law of gravity, or any of the so-called 'natural laws'. However it was bound, by its own choice, to it's mistress's wishes and thus accomplished the 'flight' to the source of what summoned J'age

...though by the time they arrived before the immense white tower it had shifted, morphing slow into the Pale Horse (http://www.atddm.com/pale.jpg)

"You want to tell me what brought this about?" J'age inquired silently as most of her studied the building and surroundings intently. " You've never shifted like this before on me." Meaning without her asking.

But the Pale Horse didn't answer, perhaps couldn't find an answer for her. It had been pulled to come here as much as she had - something told her though she wasn't at all sure how she knew. She swung lithely down off the Pale Horse, utterly silent in her movement and casting no shadow. A wind from nowhere blew her hair lightly back from her face as her powers swept forth to ascertain where this was, for this certainly wasn’t the same universe she’d been in.

Once on the ground she stretched extravagantly, her body clad in a form fitting, subtlely but strongly armored bodysuit of unrelieved black. J'age pulled on a long duster of heavy but supple black leather, that when the non breeze caught it and managed to lift a corner, could be seen to be lined with silk of the deepest crimson. A battered lady's fedora was pulled from the same point of nowhere that had held the duster. Properly tilted it shadowed her face, but not before one caught a glimpse of skin the color of frozen cream. A heavy mane of hair tumbled exuberantly past her shoulders to froth about her hips in an iridescent onyx mass that emphasized not just the utter whiteness of her face but the paleness of what could be seen of the rest of her skin. Long, slender yet strong handsHidden within gloves of leather and silk pulled a kit out of nowhere and slung it across her shoulder. It took but a second to make sure that it did not interfere with the katana sheathed across her back.

“Rest” At her low voiced command the Pale Horse shimmered into invisibility. With soundless as always steps she turned, striding tiger like into the White Tower, relaxed, powerful and supremely confident of her abilities. Her senses were not those of a human, though she might wear that shape. And she missed little. Such as the fact that the White Tower that summoned her -for reasons yet unknown- had not existed here for more than mere hours.

Death’s daughter, now Death herself had come. J’age was on the hunt, and she had never failed to find her quarry.... this time it was answers...

Nanluir listened as the woman told of how she taught Charms, a type of magic where she hailed from, and how she had come here, probably to teach, Nanluir thought. For he had managed to accumulate knowledge, from his world of Teniciel, of the White Tower's existence. How great magic had been made there, and how it fell silent and vanished. Now, it had reappeared, and they all had come to answer its call. "Very well, Lady Otsuski. I am Nanluir, the Emperor of the High Elven nation of Atanarr. The seventieth Emperor, in fact. We have been around for a long time." As before, he sensed the coming of another, and this time it was a small and thin man, who came before him, and asked him a question. "Greetings sir. my name is Ivan Berezovsky. I am looking for a place more appropriate for the development of magic than the magic-scarce realm where I was before, and it seems I found it. Could you answer me what does this magical tower consist in?"

He laughed, his laughter the sound of soft silver bells. "That, my friend, is something we all have come to find out. I may know of this place due to my centuries of reading and seeking of knowledge, but I do not know what is inside. That is what we shall find out soon enough, from Galvenor I imagine." Tulael cut him off from saying anything else as he began to neigh softly and prance, as if nervous about something. Concerned, he lay a hand on Tulael's neck and felt what he felt. A powerful aura of death was nearby and coming towards the White Tower. His eyes narrowed, but he did not say anything. He was not like his other brethren, whom would immediately begin a chase to hunt down and kill this necromantic being. For it was strong enough that if either he or Nir'taen fought her alone, they would be hard beset to live, if not triumph. Therefore, he merely sent a flicker of a gesture, unseen to all but his elven guards, who received it with a nod and moved into a tighter formation around the emperor. Both they and Nanluir set their hands on the scabbards, so as to be ready to draw their blades if need be.

As lenient as he was with this area, Nanluir despised Necromancy and would not suffer a being such as this to darken the halls of the pure White Tower, unless it be a being which was not what he was sensing. However, more often than not, it was. And if such was the case, he would have to move in to protect the others. Such was the duty of the Elves.

Too right his nations been around for a long time she thought.

Compared to elves humans were mere children but they did share magic all the same.

"I'm glad to meet you Emperor Nanluir" she replied as he called his guards closer. How she couldn't tell but you never knew with a powerful an ancient race.

She couldn't see anything to concern her about the other arrivals yet and she gave them a welcoming bow and introduced herself.

"I'm Miyu Otsuki" she said in a warm friendly voice.

Zena, her attitude even more bubbly than usual let loose a smile that showed off unusually long canine teeth upon setting her eyes on the blind man. "I suppose now is as good a time as any for introductions. I'm Zena Ariel Willa Montello, and my little friend here," she gestured to the fluff ball who was hiding behind her legs, "Is Chaz. Might I ask your name?" She kneeled down just long enough to pick up the cat who shrank in her arms at being brought so close to strangers.
Zena could sense peace in the area and wisdom from various people around, but that's not what grabbed her attention. The air reeked of Death itself and despite her best acting, her golden eyes showed concern.

"I'm Miyu Otsuki"

"And I am J'age" The woman was tall, spare ,and cast no shadow when she moved.

"He's antsy because of me," J'age chuffed in unamusemnt as she approached but stopped well outside of 'fast reaction' range.

"You know, one would think an immortal race of spirits made flesh would have a better understanding of Death, but then again I'd say that ninety nine percent of the universe doesn't, so why I continue to hope..." J'age's voice was cool, nearly emotionless as she shrugged lightly.

Meeting the Elf's eyes she shook her head slightly. "Don't go all judgemental on me and we'll get a long just fine. And don't ever forget that Death is just as natural and a necessary part of things as Life is."

"I am not being judgmental; if I was being so, then I would have hunted you down and tried to kill you as most of my race would do so. However, my god, Lahuan, Keeper of Knowledge, has intimated as much about Death to me. I have awaited your coming in such a manner as to protect myself; I have had dark encounters with your kind in the past and merely took protections as my life carries with it the hopes and dreams of my people. I cannot be so free with it as some may be." He tapped Tulael, who shivered and looked at J'age with confused and fearful eyes, to move so he looked directly at her. He had sensed her coming, and issued a fierce hand command to prevent his guards from attacking shock and fear.

"I will solve this dilemma with a question, which I wish for you to answer. Those who command the forces of Death in my home of Teniciel are evil beings who corrupt and violate nature at every time, their very presence sending her shrieking into pain. They disturb and torture the souls of the dead for knowledge and power, kill the living in horrible ways on their path to power, and are great dangers to even the gods themselves, if given enough time. Tell me, are you one of them, one of these Necromancers whom Nature itself cries out in horror at their approach? Or are you some other scion of Death, whom we have no understanding of, and does not exist on our world, and has a purpose that nature works in harmony with? If you are the former, I am sorry to say I cannot let you pass through these doors, and mar the beauty and purity that is the White Tower.

If you are the latter, which is my hope, I am curious as to how you work with nature and to why your kind has not appear in Teniciel." He stood on his eyes, his eyes calm and neutral, waiting for a reply.

If you are the latter, which is my hope, I am curious as to how you work with nature and to why your kind has not appear in Teniciel."

J'age looked at the elfhorse and her smile, though barely there was gentle as she listened to the question posed her.

She stood still looking down -searching the ground about her, looking for something in particular, then finding it she went to one knee. "Come, look at this and learn a part of your answer."

The ground was thickly covered with clover and where the elfsteed had first stood, his hooves had crushed many, nearly severing severing the trilobed leaves from their slender stalks. She chose one and pointed it out.

"This piece of clover is dieing, yes? The stalk all but torn through, it can not recover." Taking off one glove she used her fingernails to pinch the rest of the way through. "That does not make your friend a necromancer, some bane of the natural world."

J'age ran ther hand though the thick patch, sending many a honey bee scattering from the sweet scented blossoms. She left behind no trail of disseased and wasting plants, just Life going about it's business...

"Unconstrained Life is a cancer, Death uncontroled is genocide. Always there must be the balance." She spoke so softly it could barely be heard as she stood up drawing her glove back on.

Louder now, directed back to her questioners poseing "I know of the beings of which you speak, and I have no tolerance for them. I may not, can not, always be gentle, but I do not torture or cause any more pain than necessary. I am the Avatar of Death, as was my sire before me. I am what I need to be to fulfill my Office."

"I should be able to assure you that your own Avatars have always been there quietly going about their duties unnoticed. But it is known, now, that across the multiverse too many of the Offices go unfilled, casusing worse damage than any mere necromancer can do, no matter how powerful they grow.

Marcus was walking through the thick trees following a path that did not exist. He wound his way through thick underbrush tracing the bubbling stream to his right. He really wasn’t sure why he was following the stream, only that he must.

Dripping with sweat, he finally stepped from the forest into the clearing around the massive college. He could not see the towers because the canopy had blocked them from view but when he did, he stopped and stared for a while before whistling to himself and muttering.

“I suppose I will have to be cleaning the place. It really isn’t fair.”

The lanky male adjusted his pack and arched his back to relieve the beginning of a cramp. He approached the doorway and peered through the open gates. Seeing some people standing around, he listened to them talk, standing quietly near the gatepost.


-----


Stepping from an open gate of pure energy, a short seventeen year old stepped into the courtyard and looked around. Kyle had devoured everything in his master’s library, as small as it was early on. He had read the books on everything from theories of magic to animal husbandry. He understood almost anything he read about but transferring that knowledge into a physical reaction is what his biggest problem was.

He knew magic could be drawn from nature but he was unable to do that. He knew by making certain gestures and verbalizing certain intonations he could summon creatures to him but he could not properly channel the magics. I mean, he could do the easier stuff but not anything advanced. He understood the mechanics of the spells but when it came down to it, the follow through was where he failed.

This frustrated him greatly and his old master could see it. He had tried everything in his power but he only had so much ability so he had sent his student here in hoped he could get spells to work properly.

Nanluir watched as J'age kneeled next to some clovers, speaking about how life was and what her job was. As she killed the plants, Nanluir felt a pang of anger and violation, but he checked it. As a High Elf, he was very attached to nature, and loved it dearly, even if it was too dangerous to let live at certain stages. His instincts preferred that any plant or tree should not die, but that couldn't happen. So, he continued to listen, as she spoke of her offices and the empty ones which cause more damage than those necromancers whom he was familiar with. He sighed as he replied. "I suppose that is true, but there is something out there that is far worse than empty Offices. Some beings who were able to utterly destroy the First Paradise of Teniciel, and even force the First to call out to their father for aid. But enough. I see you are different." He eased his hand off his sword, a motion his guards followed. "I look forward to talking with you later, Lady J'age." He nodded respectfully, before turning back to the Tower, wondering when their host would make himself known to them. He enjoyed being away from the duties and burdens of his crown, but he did have a lot on his mind back home to tend to, and he wanted to get things going if the White Tower was to have the High Elves in their halls.


His ear tweaked as he sensed the faint presence of a young mageling. Biting back a smile, he turned and looked with kind eyes at the shy human whom was hiding behind a gatepost. "Greetings, young one. Come on over and join us; we may as well get to know each other while we are waiting for our host to reveal himself."

"Wow, are you a real elf? I have never seen one before, er, I mean, I sorry. I didn't mean to stare."

Marcus slowly stepped away from the gate into the open. His travel clothes have certainly seen better day, the tears from branches and smears of dirt showing he had trekked through the wilderness. Several scratches on his face and his hands showed he had fought those very branches for his clothes and passage.

“I have read about elves in one of my old master’s books but not even he has ever seen one.”

The lanky twenty-something student seemed to remember himself and stepped back.

“I am sorry for speaking about you like you are not here. Please forgive me.”

Off to the side, the seventeen year old looked behind him as the gateway he used to arrive evaporated. Kyle turned to watch the group of people standing a little way away talking. There were at least a couple females and several males, including one elf. The elf was speaking to what appeared to be a human male standing in the open gateway.

Kyle dusted himself off and started walking over to where everyone stood.


High above, Galvenor sat in the library. He had just finished atuning the College to his essence and returned from the trance he was in. He immediately noticed several visitors down below at the front gate.

“Well, when you leave the door open for guests, you are bound to get some.”

Galvenor stood up from the sitting position he had assumed in the exact center of the room. He gestured and the bookcase skittered over to return to where it is supposed to stand, being where Galvenor was sitting. Imps returned the books that had fallen off the shelves as soon as it had ceased moving. The Ta’Nar walked over to the window and looked out at the courtyard far below. He could see several small figures in the courtyard apparently waiting for their host to appear. Galvenor chuckled to himself and started down the stairs.

"I look forward to talking with you later, Lady J'age."

J'age's calm face did not reveal that she knew he did not understand, not truly. He had become angry when she finished the work his steed had begun.
Life and death, just changes of being, natural and needed.

But most likely she would not be speaking with him later. He had no idea that she had spoken more to him in those few sentences than she had to any in the last year. Hers was one of the lonelier Offices, and she was mostly solitary by nature.

J'age in no way needed his approval or permission to be here. She had been called and that was enough for her. She moved to one side, content to listen and observe, her normal mode of operation.

"There are more interesting things here than elves my dear." A slight cough to gather the attention rather bedraggled looking young man.

"Welcome... would you like a drink? You seem as though you've had an interesting journey."

She started to lean to one side as she pull a paw off the ground and put it in her fur. She was looking for something.

Ivan simply pretended that everything was fine about the way the that man with pointy ears apparently laughed about his presence, rather than from the amusement of the unknown about that tower far ahead. Then, the sensation of death itself arose in that place, as if Morana (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marzanna) herself was arriving. But the winter has gone, in fact, that alone meant Morana would still be alive for the year. It was something else. And he looked at the pale figure which arrived, claiming to be a physical manifestation of death itself, and the clear suspicion the figure arose at that man, which in Ivan's mind was perhaps a new ethnic group of humans rather than an elf, after all, he saw some photos during school of women with long neck in a place called Africa, there was little to dismiss the possibility of humans with long ears. He watched in silent as J'age tore apart clovers, and that also apparently annoyed a bit the man. As J'age apparently became more introspective, he looked at the fallen clovers, sketched a smile to Nanluir, and said, looking at the clovers:

"As the winter goes, life and the daughter of Perun, Morana, begin anew. Our body is continually dying and regenerating, and thus is nature and even beyond. However, life does not depend on death. Eventually... there will be life without death and joy without pain. However, that will be a long way from now. Maybe life itself could spring from death. But in this time, there is no reason to hasten natural death. Plants like these are relatively simple in their principles of life, I suggest that winter is given a chance to take it from them, because they are, as a whole, more useful alive than dead"

He did not make any gesture, or uttered any words, the clovers simply began to regenerate slowly, until, after ten seconds, they were back like they were before, and Ivan, seemingly a bit more tired than before, grabbed a small piece of them, without leading to their death again. He tucked the leave in his rucksack and looked back at Nanluir, explaining another reason for his behavior, trying to use a metaphorical language to explain how such natural things were valued to him:

"I have my reasons to have done such minor action, sir Nanluir. I've seen enough being crushed by machines, the dull grey of streets which had nothing but houses stacked one above the other many times, mechanical chariots engulfing them with steam, a steam killing the weakest of trees not taken over by the needs of man, places where nature prevails like here are rare where I originally lived, and not even air itself is natural there. Alas, these plants are also useful, thus dealing with them in such premature way of accelerating entropy is, with no offense intended, wasteful."

Of course, what he refused to told, is that a living being was a potential source of minor replenishments of energy, to himself. There was not much wrong on that, he just tended to, get involuntary aid of those stronger than him, and other than that, he knew the art of communicating with the dead ones, and of possibly asking for their timeless experiences to be heard to attempt predicting the future or understanding the past, which was in fact the true meaning of necromancy, in his views, rather than raising corpses or other mythical actions of the same nature. Other than that, as a way of self-defense than anything else, and as something which was the only defense of him against persecutions, he also knew something a bit more... sinister, his personal secret, which was his capability of casting entropy itself against living beings, like at the witch hunters who tried to kill him a long time ago. Fortunately, the last time he used such magic was almost a decade ago by now, and he had kept the necromantic arts on the shelf to focus on the power of syntropy, or simply life, for he discovered both were his aptitudes, although his skills with life magic overshadowed his more limited necromantic skills, influencing also on the way he was perceived as a mage capable of doing only the first, a white mage and healer... although life could be used for other purposes. Perceiving how they apparently knew necromancy as black-clad wizards raising corpses, he simply kept his other magical skills to himself.

Miyu warmly smiled when she spotted the others. A giant mouse was a slight surprise but then again there was an elven emperor here.

She also smiled in welcome to the man in black and the student who only looked a few years younger than she was.

He did look nervous and she said "its going to be alright here. I'm Miyu and you are?"

As was often the case of late, the air swirled in light and colors. This time, however, rather than resolving into a sphere of light, they seemed go coalesce...to almost pucker. Colors continued to swirl within the magical orifice as it swelled, expanded, and...opened.

First, there was a loud, crepitatious noise. Then, there was a scream--a low-pitched, angry, yelling scream, but a scream nonetheless. Finally, still screaming, a strange figure emerged from the orifice, head first, and plummeted to the ground, landing with a rather ceremonious "Oof!" It was drenched in slime, but it was not hard to tell that it had red skin and large, bat-like wings.

With a low, evil laugh, the Portal of Flatulence began to fade. This did not seem to suit the figure, as he rolled to his feet and came up facing the portal itself.

"Cosmic Hemorrhoid!" he yelled, pointing his index finger at the portal. A bolt of lightning shot from his finger and hit the orifice, causing it to glow red. As it faded out of sight, there was a soft cry of pain.

"There!" said the newcomer. "That'll show 'em!"

As the winter goes, ~snip However, life does not depend on death. Eventually... there will be life without death and joy without pain. ~Snip~. Maybe life itself could spring from death. But in this time, there is no reason to hasten natural death. Plants like these are relatively simple in their principles of life, I suggest that winter is given a chance to take it from them, because they are, as a whole, more useful alive than dead

"You idiot" J'age said to herself as she regarded the intrusive newcommer with coldness "Life does depend on death. You eat to live, there for you benefit from death. That clover rots to form natural fertilizers that benefit the next generation of clover plants. Life springs ever from death...and I did not hasten their death, the eldfsteed did when it stepped on them, crushed them" But her thoughts, she kept to herself.

J'age tasted the man's powers as he abused nature, undoing what had been done and stealing life from the plants in a false display of 'compassion'. This one might die when he least expected it, should he continue his actions.

Miyu warmly smiled when she spotted the others. A giant mouse was a slight surprise but then again there was an elven emperor here.

She also smiled in welcome to the man in black and the student who only looked a few years younger than she was.

He did look nervous and she said "its going to be alright here. I'm Miyu and you are?"


"Um, er, my name is Marcus."

Feeling the cold proximity of death, Ivan sighed as he could sense someone had disliked his recent actions, probably that mysterious manifestation of death. His reaction was to simply take a few steps ahead towards the large gate, and away from J'age, who was, as he assumed, the one bothered with his actions. With a few steps ahead, he observed the large tower and got very close to its gates. He observed the details of the tower itself, and pondered on what was inside it for a while, before heading towards the emperor Nanluir, one of the three most interesting individuals he saw there, enticing his curiousity, as he politely spoke, bowing slightly to him and to his guards:

"Sir Nanluir, as I said, I have come from a distant land, and this is my first travel to another realm, pardon my ignorance, but I never saw any of your kin before in my life, for in my world, I only have met other humans like me. I have an interest on learning more about your people, and perhaps if it interests you, I could tell a bit about mine as well, and about the myths of my land, while we wait for the gates to open"

June was properly intrigued by the tower and the man, or so it seemed, going down the stairs. However the building itself seemed to be more attractive. She wandered off around the base sniffing and making comments "Oh, I see, interesting." "Quite unique" "Masterful piece of artifice" to no one in particular.

"Its good to meet you Marcus" Miyu replied and now they could get into the tower it looked like it had plenty of promise as a school.

Now she could send word back so Neo Kirisubans could come here as well. Once of course she had a talk with the warden of the tower.

The demon's smile faded. He looked at his arms, and instantly his face took on a look of disgust. He was still covered with slime.

"THIS is what ya get," he yelled out, "when ya HANG OUT WITH A GEEK!"

A pair of lips appeared in front of him--big, dark lips with a hairy mustache over them. Soon, another pair joined in with a little pop.

"Ohhh," the demon said, "not the Auntie Bertha Bomb again..."

By the time he finished, there were at least a hundred pairs of lips floating around him, all with little mustaches. As he watched, they all smiled at the same time.

"Ohhh, sh-."

::smoochsmoochsmoochsmoochsmooch::

When they pulled away, all the slime was gone.

"Yech," said the demon.

They started to disappear in little pops. When there was only one left, it smiled again. Then, it got him right in the lips.

::SMOOOOOOOOCH!!::

He coughed. He spat. He pulled out a hankerchief, stuck his foot-long tongue out of his mouth and wiped it off. He popped his tongue back into his mouth. The lips began to fade out of existence.

Before they disappeared completely, he uttered a little spell.

"Injesticum reversii!"

As the lips completely disappeared, there was a muffled cough.

The demon smiled again.

"I think I'm ready to face the natives now," he said to himself.

-----------

OOC: All this emperor elf and death personified stuff was getting...stuffy. Just wanted to clear the air a little with something a little more folksy. :) :) :)

Kyle watched the red skinned being with absolute terror as it was excreted into the courtyard, followed by a thunderous belch of flatuance. Then even more bizarre things happened to the creature as what looked to be hundreds of lips began to give him smooches like some demented great-aunt. He back away a couple steps while the winged one was finally finished being assaulted by his method of transportation. If it was his choice, Kyle would have rather walked.



-----


Marcus blushed from Miyu’s kind words. Nobody talked to him this nicely back in his village; they usually gave him the cold shoulder or just tried to ignore him completely. It is said if you attract the attention of a mage, you will get cursed by them so everyone just pretended the youth did not exist. Right now he wasn’t sure if he liked the uncomfortable feeling he was feeling while she was talking to him. He could not take his eyes off her strange eyes, almost like the elves but different. Her eyes had the color of earth in them and seemed to be much deeper, almost pulling him inside…



-----


Galvenor finished descending down the grand staircase to the floor below the library level. Directly at the bottom of the curved wide staircase was an immense chamber. It was several dozen feet across and octagonal. At different levels, walkways circled the huge shaft without any railings. Overhead a massive piece of illuminated amber was inset with Galvenor’s personal design. He stepped out into empty space and the enchantments enspelled within the chamber took hold of him and slowly lowered him to the floor downwards. He passed multiple levels of empty classrooms and labs just waiting to be filled. As he neared the bottom, he could see a duplicate of the massive piece of amber at the bottom. Anything between the two pieces would not fall. It would allow travelers to rise and sink at safe speeds so there will not be any injuries, unless you dropped a book or something.

Upon landing, he exited the chamber through a massive double door and took another gently curving stairway down another level. The stairs ended besides another set of massive double doors that lead under the transport chamber and in old days it had served as the ballroom during important occasions. The translucent amber inset letting light in from above, providing interesting illumination for the room. Instead of turning into that room, he went the other direction, heading for the closed outer doors of the Tower.

It was almost time to greet the newcomers waiting in the courtyard outside.

Miyu gave Marcus a little smile back in return and she knew there would be students from her planet here as well. She could see he couldn't stop looking at her eyes and she didn't stop him yet.

When they would arrive was another matter. They'd be like her only younger and cuter again.

Already lesson plans were running through her head and she was prepared for small classes.

Suddenly Marcus realized he was staring and turned away, blushing.

"Er, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare."

"It's just I have never seen anyone that looks like you do. You are human but you have the eyes of an elf. Are you related to them?"

Miyu smiled softly and shook her head.

"I'm human and my forebears came from the asia-pacific part of Earth. Perhaps theres a similarity between asian and elf eyes.

Theres going to be two more witches arriving from my nation as well. They'll be students" she gently said not minding the attention.

As a teacher she'd have to watch her step. Getting too involved with a student in any school was a bad idea.

Marvel turned to see a young male human--almost still a kid, but not quite, looking him over. Oh great, he thought, another geek. Still, he didn't let this show as he smiled his friendliest smile and said, "Oh, hello there. I'm Marvel. Don't mind the special effects. That's just ol' Yendor. We have a little disagreement: he thinks he owes me a prank, and I think we're even." He pulled his wings tightly against his back. "If my form bothers you, I can always make myself look more like you."

Galvenor finished descending down the grand staircase to the floor below the library level. Directly at the bottom of the curved wide staircase was an immense chamber. It was several dozen feet across and octagonal. At different levels, walkways circled the huge shaft without any railings. Overhead a massive piece of illuminated amber was inset with Galvenor’s personal design. He stepped out into empty space and the enchantments enspelled within the chamber took hold of him and slowly lowered him to the floor downwards. He passed multiple levels of empty classrooms and labs just waiting to be filled. As he neared the bottom, he could see a duplicate of the massive piece of amber at the bottom. Anything between the two pieces would not fall. It would allow travelers to rise and sink at safe speeds so there will not be any injuries, unless you dropped a book or something.

Upon landing, he exited the chamber through a massive double door and took another gently curving stairway down another level. The stairs ended besides another set of massive double doors that lead under the transport chamber and in old days it had served as the ballroom during important occasions. The translucent amber inset letting light in from above, providing interesting illumination for the room. Instead of turning into that room, he went the other direction, heading for the closed outer doors of the Tower.

It was almost time to greet the newcomers waiting in the courtyard outside.

“An impressive piece of engineering and magickal skill,” said a soft voice from the shadows. It was soft, yet held force, the ability to hold a room’s attention with no effort at all on behalf of the speaker. A tall, slender humanoid figure stepped forward, its outline blurred by the edges of a long robe that extended across the shoulders. It covered the entire body, the sleeves extending to the wrists, widening as they went, until they hid the hands from view in their folds. The same was true of the feet, hidden as they were by the long, black robe.

“Yes, I must admit it is an addition I approve of, entirely,” continued the speaker, stepping forward into the light, his pale skin serving as a striking contrast to his long, raven black hair. It was tied back into a single ponytail, with high, prominent cheekbones, coupled with an expression that spoke simultaneously of pride and yet also humbleness. Now that the light shone fully on his features, the rich detail of the robe he wore was seen far more clearly. The most prominent feature was the chest piece, which looked as if it served as some form of armour during combat. Black, like the rest of his clothing, but with silver trim, and an array of multi-coloured gemstones, the largest of which burned a brilliant orange just under where his sternum would end. He waved a hand lazily around the room in which they now stood, gesturing upwards, “I seem to recall that was not in the original plans?”

J'age let herself fade into the background, listening and watching with little interaction. It was her standard mode of operating, observing all and getting a feel of those about her before interacting. She wasn't sure why she had tried to start things off any differently.

The appearance of the demon and then the lips o' love effect had her grinning. Some beings never seemed to catch a break though, he'd gotten back at the deliverer with that last.

The interchange between the one who'd introduced herself as Miyu and one of the newcomers, a young road weary looking young man who'd introduced himself as Marcus, had her wondering how fast his heart would get broken. But romance was not her area of expertise. The vast majority of those who courted Death held no interest for her in the least and active disgust from her at the worst. She'd long ago resigned herslef to being alone.

Falling flat on your face is not the best way to start a new school.

The thought just had time to flit through Ruari’s mind before his knees connected sharply with a hard surface and his nose tried to follow suit. Somehow his hands got there first and his elbows had sense enough to lock, so he was spared the worst of the landing.

Still, arriving crouched on all fours was not much of an improvement. He sent a baleful thought back through the whatever-it-was to the bored young mage from the Secretariat for Situations Like This.

“Since we stand outside space and time, it’s just a matter of stepping forward. Pretend you’re walking through a door,” that elegant character had drawled. But Ruari must have tripped on the rug, or caught his foot on the lintel, or – most likely – the Ardchoillean had got his calculations wrong, and not allowed for planetary displacement, or the phase of the moon, or some such thing.

“Hope Ms Reilly catches up with him,” Ruari muttered vengefully, rubbing his grazed palms on his jeans. He had acquired a healthy respect for the magic nation’s President; her obsessive attention to detail and her spectacular temper made it more than likely that the flunky would meet some sort of come-uppance. He hoped it would be a forced vacation on Findhorn looking after the smelliest goats.

Not that Ruari had suffered greatly, except in his dignity. His backpack had stayed settled on his shoulders, so his books, his chess set and the photograph of Mierin that were all he’d been able to bring would still be unharmed in their cocoon of hastily packed clothing. Hauling himself upright, he looked around the courtyard.

Gloom. Teachers. Robed, suited, cloaked, outlandishly fine or picturesquely tattered, they all bore the unmistakable stamp of authority. Detention-giving, homework-setting Authority. His glance darted round the space, snagging for a second on a ... person? Pool of shadow? The ring on his left hand struck cold on his third finger, so quickly it was over before he’d registered anything but a brief unease.

He turned his head hopefully as the word “prank” swirled out of the hubbub of strangers meeting. Two young men, people about his own age, were chatting; one had wings furled on his back. There was a time when that sight would have been enough to send Ruari into a panic, but now he felt only the familiar shyness of the new kid as he headed for the pair.

“Hi, I’m Ruari, Ruari Dhurigh, from Findhorn. Are you new here, too?”

Marvel looked at the newcomer. His heart went out to the kid. He'd had a rough ride, too.

His smile took on a little more sincerity.

"Heck, yeah," he replied. "Name's Marvel. Where ya from?"

Galvenor stopped as he heard the voice from within the shadows of the darkened room. At first he did not recognize the voice.

“Huh?”

Galvenor stopped standing in front of the doors leading out to where the new guests were. He could feel the arrival of another one but that will have to wait a moment. He first needed to see who had spoken to him. He turned around in time to see the tall being step out of the shadows. At first he did not recognize the alien but after a couple moments it clicked within his mind.

“Eldrad! It is great to see you again.”

Galvenor stepped forward and clasped the arm of his old friend while he looked him over to see what had changed.

“You approve of the changes? That is great, when I unfolded the place and attuned it, I made some changes. There are some that would improve the general workings of the College. The Dorms are below the Audience hall down those stairs to your left. Above the library are the offices and the quarters for the teachers and each head of a School has their own tower attached. There is a levitation chamber up there too ending in a domed area at the top where the students can study while it rains.”

Walking through the wooded areas just before the white towered college, a small man wearing a mask walked ever so slowly, as if he was broken and beaten. He cloak was muddy and caked with sticks and thorns. He face hidden by his mask and his hands, and all his skin for that matter hidden behind a berlap, canvas full body suit. His hair also hidden by a sack like piece which was also hidden by the cloacks hood.

The man walked for days if not onths straight to this place, though he did not do so on purpose. His mind wondered aimlessly to a place that called to it. His mind often was aimless after he was exiled from his homeland. The woods where a barrier for his weakened body was every leaf was enough to bruise him. And now a small bombardment of rain began to fall upon him. Spattering little small rocks upon his body.

Every step was painful, every drop like torture. But he continued to walk, not knowing what he would find in this strange place. But off in the distance he could see a tower, a beautiful white tower much like the ones from his homeland. For a small time he felt joy and peace, but it was soon ripped away by the sounds of a snarle from behind. As he tirned to look he was met face to face with a hungry grey wolf. The wolf fangs where engulfed by siliva, which dripped from the mouth of the beast. The man was afraid and ran. the wolf being hungry did not run, because he knew that he could track the man down.

As the man ran he tripped and fell over a lifted root and fell hard to the ground. His body aching and sore and now very much weak from exhusting what little energy he had left to use. The man laid still to regain his breath. Looking to the sky he leaned his head over and saw he was now even closer to the tower. The man quitely turned over and clawed his way to the tower. But his journey was not over. As he crawledhe could heared the wolfs stomach growl and moan. Death was nearing him and he was powerless to stop it. The wolf circled him and then lungde at him sinking his teeth into the man arm.

As the wolf attacked he fought back as best he could striking the animal as hard and as fast as he could. With a lucky strike the animal let lose and the man ran to the tower. As the made it he rapped on the door as hard as he could. The wolf followed in pursuit, then bitting the mans leg. The man screamed and fell to the ground.

"Ummmm...excuse me--that sounded like someone in need of help."

In a second, Marvel was at the main door; in another, he had slipped through the keyhole and was on the other side. What he saw made his heart ache: an enfeebled man, clothes covering his entire body, under attack from a wolf.

Usually, there is no such thing as ONE wolf--and, individually, they are relatively feeble. It is only when they combine their abilities and hunt in packs that they are particularly dangerous.

The demon spread his wings, making himself look large in the dog's eyes. Then, he growled.

Snick! His spined, venomous tail lashed out at the creature. Swish! Snick! Of course, he was trying for a near miss, to drive the creature off, but it also served as a warning shot. As is often the case in nature, he was giving his opponent the opportunity to back down and avoid potential injury to both of them.

Outside the tower in the ground a vortex of magical energy appeared. It was a swirl of rainbow colours and when it touched down and faded away two girls could be seen.

http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a354/nihongaz/kimono_left800.jpg

They wore kimonos Yuki wearing a deep red one and Miki wearing a light pink one. They were the Harada sisters with Yuki being a year older.

They had held onto each other and their trunks and while they both tried to stop their heads from spinning a purr could be heard from the trunks.

When the girls heads finally stopped spinning they got carefully to their feet and looked round.

Yuki had one thought when she looked round.

Boys! she thought to herself as Miki opened her trunk to take our her white furred tribble.

"There there Fuzzy" she said calming her roundish ball of fluff pet down. A contented purring noise came from the seemingly eyeless pet and a long tongue shot out of its mouth.

Zena turned to the wolf while her eyes glazed over. Using her psyonic prowess, she tricked the wolf into thinking his current attacker was actually hitting much closer than he really was before creating the illusion of the masked man bursting into flames when he felt nothing in the hope of scaring it away. Eyes still glassy, she avoided the demon's attacks and hoisted the man up and away from the wolf, who still had no idea it was attacking something only it saw.

Sighing, Ivan rushed towards the fallen man carried by Zena and, despite the fact he ran for little more than 15 meters, he was already puffing and tired by the time he reached the man to check him for wounds. It was a masked individual, a leper perhaps. Nonetheless, apparently the man needed help as Ivan said in an audible tone for all those nearby, ignoring the fact they would probably not understand his rant on his refusal to learn the scientific medicine, which would require less sacrifices of his own stamina:

"Pochemu ne vyuchit' miksturu vmesto ehtogo?", the words of his own language came with a tone of mild regret, and Ivan then looked at Zena to whom he asked with his domain of their language, as he approached the fallen man:

"Could you not let me fall on the ground? Sometimes I can't handle the energy drain from healing magic"

Before she could answer, the wounds on the body of that mysterious man have at least stopped bleeding, there was no magical noises or visible streams of energy, it was just something which worked. A minor healing spell to deal with the bites and accelerate regeneration which effectiveness would only be assured in a few minutes as his healing magic, although more efficient than usual, had a delayed effect. Ivan yawned a bit, but did not seem to have fallen like he mentioned. Ivan tried to talk with the mud-soaked, weak man as he spoke, looking to him through the mask, in his accented manner, while at the same time paying attention to whatever Zena could wish to tell him:

"Are you feeling better now? You must have come a long way through here. Hopefully, in a few minutes the pain will stop. But unfortunately I cannot assure it for you, because magic is not exactly... fully predictable, as you probably already know. Call me Ivan, could you inform me your name?"

Galvenor stopped as he heard the voice from within the shadows of the darkened room. At first he did not recognize the voice.

“Huh?”

Galvenor stopped standing in front of the doors leading out to where the new guests were. He could feel the arrival of another one but that will have to wait a moment. He first needed to see who had spoken to him. He turned around in time to see the tall being step out of the shadows. At first he did not recognize the alien but after a couple moments it clicked within his mind.

“Eldrad! It is great to see you again.”

Galvenor stepped forward and clasped the arm of his old friend while he looked him over to see what had changed.

“You approve of the changes? That is great, when I unfolded the place and attuned it, I made some changes. There are some that would improve the general workings of the College. The Dorms are below the Audience hall down those stairs to your left. Above the library are the offices and the quarters for the teachers and each head of a School has their own tower attached. There is a levitation chamber up there too ending in a domed area at the top where the students can study while it rains.”

Eldrad’s pale face creased into a smile, “I see that my latest garb, and the lack of a helmet, can alter my image dramatically.”

He clasped the forearm of Galvenor as best he could, given his friends almost non-corporeal state, “I’m sorry, I appear to have missed a few things in my absence. But the craftworld called for my appearance, and it would not do for the leading Farseer to neglect his duties to his race. I had a difficult time tracking you down… but moving a structure this big, in a style such as yours, leaves signatures, like anything else. A small piece of detective work found you here… on this, rather densely populated world with a wide variety of mon-keigh related species, all with surprisingly high level of magickal sensitivity of varying levels.”

He sighed a deep sigh, “The cost of the craftworld and the conflict we fought was too high… I admit myself lucky to be standing here at all. I will not deny, I am glad to be back. The changes do meet with my approval, old friend… and judging from the increasing disturbances in the warp, we have many visitors mingling in the exterior courtyard. Perhaps it would do to greet them?”

Zena saw the weariness that had taken hold of Ivan. "If you fall, I'll do my best to stop you." She flicked her hand the best she could and rather than the small stream of water she expected to cleanse the wound, a great jet blasted her in the face. "Well now, that was... unexpected, to say the least." With her face and hair now sopping and dripping water down her back and front, she tried again and this time managed to wash the masked man's wound clean from any saliva and such that may have been left.

Eldrad’s pale face creased into a smile, “I see that my latest garb, and the lack of a helmet, can alter my image dramatically.”

He clasped the forearm of Galvenor as best he could, given his friends almost non-corporeal state, “I’m sorry, I appear to have missed a few things in my absence. But the craftworld called for my appearance, and it would not do for the leading Farseer to neglect his duties to his race. I had a difficult time tracking you down… but moving a structure this big, in a style such as yours, leaves signatures, like anything else. A small piece of detective work found you here… on this, rather densely populated world with a wide variety of mon-keigh related species, all with surprisingly high level of magickal sensitivity of varying levels.”

He sighed a deep sigh, “The cost of the craftworld and the conflict we fought was too high… I admit myself lucky to be standing here at all. I will not deny, I am glad to be back. The changes do meet with my approval, old friend… and judging from the increasing disturbances in the warp, we have many visitors mingling in the exterior courtyard. Perhaps it would do to greet them?”

“I agree, let’s give them a proper welcome. They might become the newest instructors and students of the Tower. It is fitting we both greet them.”

Galvenor turned toward the Tower Doors again and began to walk toward them. The Ta’Nar assumed the Eldar mage would follow.


-----


Marcus was bust blushing when the stranger’s screams reached his ears. Behind him through the open front gate someone was screaming as if they were being eaten alive. Forgetting his rural discomfort he was feeling from meeting the strange and interesting human woman, he rushed to see what was being so terribly tortured.

Arriving outside the gate, he saw a man down on the ground and a huge wolf with its jaws stained with blood standing over him. The wolf had immense canines, impossibly huge canines that seemed to draw his attention, the blood of the peasant still dripping off them as the wolf licked its jaws. The wolf seemed to look Marcus in the eye and he felt a cold chill full him, causing him to become paralyzed with fear. The lupine looked at Marcus, eyeing him like he was to be dessert right after he was done with the poor man. His thoughts became cluttered as his mind began to panic. He lost control as he froze; standing immobile as sweat began to bead up on his brow. He began to feed the intense desire to flee, flee anywhere that creature could not get him. Unfortunately, his legs refused to work for him. He could do nothing but watch.


-----


Kyle was on the other side of the crowd and could not see what was going on. The bodies of the people and the outer wall itself prevented him from seeing what was happening. He began to walk forward to get a better view.

The man stood quietly to the side, his mail was dull and grey, badged with red and black. His shield was a blank face of black, bearing no device, as was custom among the Imperial Knights. Only members of the royal family could wear any device, and they bore the seal of the Empire. His sword was slung in a plain black scabbard by his side, and the crossbow, bolts, and lances that adorned his mounts flanks were as shining with magic as the rest of his equipment, which was all mildly enhanced. He was personally fairly inexperienced in casting magic, but he was well versed in interacting with it. His sword, when drawn, blazed with mage fire, and his armor was dead to most forms of magic, as a defense against some weapons in his homeland. Physically unremarkable, he was almost anonymous behind the helmet of his armor, only the cold grey eyes peered out at everything with curiousity.

Watching with interest as others arrive, she shuddered at the sight of the tribble. She didn't much care for them, but as long as it kept it's distance she'd ignore it. Neither of those who'd come with the beast would need training by her, they had no inborn gifts she needed to worry about. She dismissed the girls from Neo Kirisubo

The youngster who'd arrived on hands and knees got her normal thorough once over and a slight tilt of her head...a born Necromance, and untrained. A dangerous situation, and possibly why she was here. She would watch him for the time being however. Findhorn was a nation unknown to her.

The knight in grey maile who'd arrived with no fanfare, and took her manner of watch first and act when you know the facts, caught her eye and she gave him a small nod.

J'age ignored the wolf and his victim. Neither was slated to die just now, others - Marvel and the one called Zena were taking it well in hand, or should she say eyes and tail she wondered with a silent chuckle.

The burlap covered man, whom the wolf had been intending to make a meal of, was in the care of Ivan, though J'age watched carefully to make sure all Ivan did was heal.

However Marcus, seemed frozen amidst all the rucus. And should the wolf break fre of it's compulsion...Quietly she moved to stand next to the youngster "Marcus!" She put some snap into his name, trying to guage how great the paralysing fear was.

Nanluir contented himself to listen to the conversation after that, not one to really go into deep conversation except those who were really wise, which was a lot when dealing with Elves, and those he had deep relationships with. So the conversations continued, with the strange arrival of one mage that drew nothing but an irritated snort from the Emperor, before turning back to gaze at the doors, waiting for a sign to enter.

He paused, however, when he sensed a failing life force. Turning Tulael to face the man, he turned in time to see him fall under attack from the wolf. Others rushed to his defense, getting him out and away from the wolf. The wolf appeared to be confused by the magics of a few of the others, but it soon gazed at the young human he spoke to and he knew he had to act. He made a series of quick hand motions, and one of his guards burst into action. Kneeing the flanks of the horse gently enough to tell it to move, it burst into action as the guard drew a long sword from her sheath. The sword flickered with a bit of flame, and had a red aura about it as she charged down the wolf.

Running by the others, whom the elf expertly kept the horse from running over, she ran by and sliced downwards with the blade, seeking to kill the wolf and protect the young boy. The other guards moved up close to Nanluir, seeking to protect him in case the wolf went mad.

Marvel reached out a hand, as if feeling the world around him. His eyes turned a slightly grayer shade of black for a moment.

The wolf shook its head. Then, looking around at the group, it closed its mouth and sat down.

"Our new friend needs food," Marvel said. "What do we have that a wolf would like to eat?"

Then he smiled brashly. "That's right. Marvel's the name. Former Diplomat from Hell. Telepathic links formed and truces negotiated! Ain't it awesome? Where's the beer?"

OOC: Telros/ Dastardly Stench - I'm going to recon this, so please don't be mad at me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
J'age reached out her hand, just a small pushing motion and the Elvin knight's sword missed the wolf completely. As she already knew the wolf was not slated to die today.

"What do we have that a wolf would like to eat?"

If you would be a little quiet I'll get him some6thing more in line for his normal dietary preferences." J'age moved from where she stood by Marcus, and approaced the wolf slowly, crooning under her breath. The she went to her kness next to the shaggy creature, her hands running gently over it's ribs. "You are hungry aren't you poor boy...just be calm" she soothed with her voice and mind.

Awareness stilled for her, as she reached out with her Gift, and called to one who was ready. The stag that answered was old and winter thin even in this season of plenty.

Zena's eyes returned to normal as she released her magical hold on the wolf's mind. "Oh now where did that cat get to now?" She asked nobody in particular. "Chaz!" she called and the fluffy cat simply walked into existence beside her. Once again her eyes glazed over as she puled her arms out from under the masked figure, who laid in mid air apparently on a transparent gurney. She picked up the cat and looked back to Ivan. "Are you feeling alright?"

Ivan was still waiting for a response of the wounded man, fearing that his effort might have been in vain. Maybe even there he would need of a prevalence of the very specific Magija Kamen' to use his capabilities to their fullest potential, or maybe the man behind the mask was too weak to have listened to him. Then his hands began to slightly tremble as he began to feel control over his own movements slowly fading. With his hands trembling, he struggled to grab a vial with a transparent liquid from a rucksack he was carrying, and with even a major struggle, he uncorked it for drinking. However as he was about to swallow it, he had a major spasm, pulling the vial away as its liquid flew through the air and he fell on the ground. For those who weren't aware of medicine, his behavior then could be attributed to demonic possession, as he started to shake all his limbs and have multiple convulsions and spasms, his eyes rolled up, leaving only their blanks visible, his head beating against the grass as his entire body was shaking and a few droplets of saliva were leaving his mouth as another of his seizures was happening again. The rucksack luckily fell gently on the ground, but he wasn't having the same luck for now.

At the sight of Ivan having a seizure, Zena began to panic. She paced back and forth unsure of what to do,but Chaz however leapt from her arms and started digging in the rucksack. After a second or two, he pulled his head from the bag, another vial in his mouth. Zena, who couldn't keep Ivan still, grabbed the bottle and uncorked it before using more telekinesis to pull the liquid from the vial and force it down Ivan's closing throat.

The Elven guard looked sharply at J'age and then looked back at Nanluir, who shook his head and motioned for her to come back. Nodding, the guard sheathed her sword and relaxed, backing away. Nanluir watched calmly, as she calmly talked to the wolf, and then directed it towards a stag. They were able to follow along as she sent a call out, one that people who are highly attuned to nature could detect. Nanluir smiled; indeed, she was proving to be part of the Cycle. He'd have to bring this up with Lahuan and see if they could possibly find what happened to the Avatars on their planet.

The man watched in horror as the wolf took bites at his body. But then a sudden change in the wolfs actions granted him a reason to look back to see people outside the tower where he ran to. Many of them where combating the wolf with their minds, others through more subtle means. The man didn't really care how they where stopping the assualting wolf he was just happy that the wolf was stopped.

Then as he laid on the ground someone came and pulled him away from the wolf. Her embrace was comforting. And as they stopped moving another person came to his aid and began to speak in a language he had never heard before. Not to much longer after he spoke the man could feel this wounds healing. though pain still had hold of him, the wound was healing. Then out of nowhere an elven soldier came out on a horse and charged the wolf. However when the sword was swung it missed. The man could see no reason as to why, from his point of view it appeared dead on.

With more magics the wolf became subdued and docile. And a student approached the wolf, petting its side and examining its ribs as it indicated its hunger. They spoke to one another and Zena started to wash his wound to prevent infection.

" Thank you.... I feel better now. Your name... is Zena. A very beautiful name."

With his comment he passed out and fell asleep. As he did his hand fell over to the side and something fell from his sleeve. It was a wand, a well constructed wand at that. Lined with odd runes and symbols the wand was carved out of a Gold Oak tree. Which gave it a bright, shinning gold glint. The magic fill was not a feather but a strange silver liquid, and the focusing crystal to the front was of a strange color shifting mineral. As it struck the ground it made no sound and simply laid on the ground.

Leaving the wolf for a moment J'age bowed slightly to the stag as she would honor any who had come. Some came joyfully, knowing that it was but another door, others fought and begged, but her office generally allowed no favorites. And as always she did her job with a compassion the mortal mind found hard to comprehend.

She took on the stag's aches and pains; the weariness of a life lived well but work worn. As always it bowed her shoulders at first, then she straightend, for Death was what ever was needed to be to fulfill the office...and she felt the deers thanks for the release and swift but unhurried rejoining to the Divine.

The stag slumped as the wolf leap, hunger gnawing at it's belly...then the wolf was absorbed in feeding and J'age could move away, knowing that it would, once it's lean belly was full react as any wolf would - and hightail it back to it's woods and hopefully it's pack.

She moved away from the others knotted about the fallen stranger or the one spasming, so that she could have a touch of privacy. It wearied her yet brought a satisfaction that was oh so bitter sweet.

Zena's focus was split horribly between the epileptic enchanter and the sleeping sorcerer. On one hand someone was going drown in their own saliva. On the other, a man had just been attacked by a wolf and then passed out. "Watch him Chaz." Zena left Ivan, for whom there was nothing she could do, to lower the masked man to the ground. Noticing the wand, she picked it up an inspected it. She could see the powerful aura contained inside it, but did not know any kind of trigger word to unleash it's abilities. "Now let's wake you up." She lifted up the mask just enough to allow her conjured water inside to splash his face and attempt to revive him.

With a cough, Ivan's seizure finally stopped as he still laid on the ground. Raising his arms, he struggled for a few moments, the sensation of the dirt into his clothes bothering him more than what just have happened with him, it was simply his way to be used to be well dressed. What nature took away from him in physical capabilities, it has returned in intellect, rhetoric skills and knowledge of strategy. In fact, most of his earnings were from working as the head of logistics for a local commerce league rather than using his magical aptitudes. The need of being well-dressed for what he did was crucial. However for now such skills were irrelevant, yet he managed to get up again with his own efforts, and soon he took a towel from his rucksack to wipe off the saliva from his mouth, looking then for Zena, to whom he believed that he owed an explanation. As he saw her trying to awaken the still downed masked man, Ivan approached her slowly, eyed the unconscious man ahead, and finally said to her, in his Russian-accented way:

"It have been ten years since the last time I used magic, I was somewhat out of practice and my body did not adapt to the demands, but that will not happen again. My name is Ivan Berezovsky, I came from a place known only as the Pangaea, and before it, I was born in Novgorod, of the People's Republic of Russia. It's a long history I would leave for later. Glad to meet you... miss?"

Zena turned from splashing the man's face to looking at Ivan. "Montello. Miss Zena Ariel Willa Montello's the name. I hail from the mountains of my country in the Halls. Our capital city, Lake Lillian, is there and I'm a researcher under the most prominent magician in the country. But enough about me, I take it you're feeling better now?"

However Marcus, seemed frozen amidst all the rucus. And should the wolf break fre of it's compulsion...Quietly she moved to stand next to the youngster "Marcus!" She put some snap into his name, trying to guage how great the paralysing fear was.

Marcus neither heard nor answered the question. The only thing he could see was the amber eyes staring at him with hunger. The red tinted ivory fangs glittering in the sunlight. The thick black and brown fur. The torn flesh…

Memories flooded his inner eye and he saw the wolves with blood dripping from their maws in the flickering light from the nearby burning hut. The whimpering screams of his mother could be heard above the chewing of the pack as they tore her to pieces. The still form of his father lay nearby, his face torn off by the pack; the rake he had used to defend himself was broken and covered with fur and blood in the dirt.

The seven year old Marcus had climbed the tree near the shed where they had kept their chickens and three wolves circled the small tree. The terrified boy could feel the tree moved every time one of the wolves stood up against the tree trying to reach the young morsel in the braches above like a tender dessert just waiting to be plucked. The tree shook again as he almost lost his grip.

One of the three wolves, the biggest one, stood upon his hind legs and pushed. The tree began to lean further over and Marcus felt himself falling so he made a blind leap toward the roof of the shed. Landing half on, he lost his breath as he started to slide off to the waiting carnivores below. Grabbing frantically he managed to drag his little body upon the roof and lay there breathing heavily. Tears ran down his face as he remembered the last he saw of his parents, disappearing beneath the hungry pack.

Back at the tower, Marcus suddenly fell to the ground unconscious.

Zena spun to face Marcus. "Is there an epidemic around here or something!?" Chaz, knowing what was coming, turned and walked out of existence and appeared next to Marcus before jumping onto his chest. The little cat lifted a paw and borrowed Zena's elemental powers to create blast of freezing cold water in an attempt to wake him.

The shock of the cold water instantly woke Marcus up.

“Wha..?

He looked around and first saw the cat sitting on his chest. A look of complete confusion washed over his face as he lay in the muddy water.

“Huh? What happened? The last thing I remember was…”

His eyes focused past the fuzzy cat, past the girl hurrying toward him and saw the amber-eyed wolf sitting there waiting for an old deer to die and become lunch.


“Aaaahhhh!”

Marcus began backpedaling away from the wolf in absolute terror, forgetting about the cat perched upon his chest.

Chaz tumbled off of Marcus into the mud and Zena, who completely forgot about the wolf's masked victim, sprang up and ran to her cat. "Hey, watch it!" She picked Chaz up and out of the mud. "Oh you poor thing. And you, we calmed it. The wolf isn't going to attack you or anyone else now so you may as well relax. Trust me, if it was going to attack you we'd all have done something about it by now." She held Chaz by the scruff of his neck and again conjured some water, which was coming in real handy today. She rinsed of the cat who was now soaking wet and turned to the crowd. "Does anyone have a towel I can use on him?" While she asked, Chaz wriggled and attempted to get as dry as possible.

"Does anyone have a towel I can use on him?" While she asked, Chaz wriggled and attempted to get as dry as possible.

“Uh … will this do?”

Digging into his backpack, Ruari produced something so old it was more a memory than a shirt. But the cloth was absorbent, and he could see from the cat's struggling how urgently it wanted to get dry. He smiled sympathetically at the creature, pleased to find anything familiar in this strange new place.

Strange wasn’t the word for it, actually. Unbelievable? Fantastic? He’d thought some of the things he’d seen at the Academy of the Dark Arts were weird, but at least there’d been plenty of time when life was just plain ordinary. But how could life be ordinary with elves and masked men and knights and –- he blinked, noticing for the first time a mouse as big as he was.

It seemed everyone in the courtyard had done as he had, just run towards the disturbance. Now the young man he’d been talking to was lying on the ground being clucked over. So maybe this wasn’t the best time to get to know him. Or anyone, really, they were all being so competent and active …

It was her complete lack of movement that drew his eye. While everybody else was rushing around reacting to events, the woman was just standing there, unmoved, while a wolf tore a deer to pieces.

Farm-bred Ruari appreciated her calm. Animals ate other animals. The deer was obviously a goner, there was no point in her fussing about trying to save it. And the wolf would be no threat, having fed.

Which was more than could be said for the woman. The young Findhornian felt a flicker of apprehension. Idiot! She’s got to be one of the teachers. Since when were you afraid of teachers? But the uneasiness persisted.

Bah, plain silliness. Dismissing it, Ruari turned back to the cat-cleaner. “Would you like me to hold him while you dry his toes?” he asked the young woman who had her pet by the scruff of its neck. “Cats always seem to want to scratch twice as hard when you’re helping them.”

The masked man later awoke from Marcus' reaction to the wolf. His mind wondering and pulsating from the first bit of rest he's had in nearly a month. People seemed to now be focused on other things other then him, something he was used to, and kinda preferred. Although after examining his body he noticed that his wand was missing. The man began to panic and got up as soon as possible to to locate his wand. Calming down he began to focus on its energy signature. He saw its power pulse from the body of the one named Zena.

" My... Wand. I need my wand."

The masked man reach out his hand in a way that suggested a strong sense of urgency. The wand was of his creation and was bound to him. If another used the wand it would place him under their control for all time.

This had all happened so quickly and only now Miyu could do something to help.

The arrival of the Neo Kirisuban witches also meant she had to watch over the sisters but the wolf had been dealt with and other matters were in hand.

She handed the masked man his wand after she spied it.

"Are you alright now?" she carefully asked.

The man took the wand, and held it tight to his chest. His mind completely focused on the wand.

"Are you alright now?"

The masked man looked up at the one who returned his wand and nodded and replied

" I'm am hungry, and tired. If it is to much to ask. May you take me some where where I can rest and eat I would be very greatful."

"I've only just gotten here myself and nobody has shown us where the rooms are yet. I'll have to find out where they are before I can tell you I'm afraid" Miyu replied bowing slightly and going to the door of the tower.

She knocked on the door hoping somebody was there.

J'age looked over, as the wolf ate reavenously, noteing that Marcus was conscious, but still acting completely panicked by the mere presence of the wolf. She shook her head, you had to respect any predator, and give it room, but really such terror.

She just shrugged and gave a small smile at the sight of the drenched cat. Poor thing, but mud was so terribly hard on a cats digestive system. Grooming would have taken hours.

Moving over to her pack she pulled out a liter of water and some jerky - she didn't need to eat any longer but she liked the taste - it was Jack Links Teriyaki and one of her favorites. As she nibbled on the dreid beef she wondered if they were simply supposed to camp in the courtyard.

"Uh … will this do?”
"Ya, that should do fine." Zena cradled Chaz into the fabric and rubbed him mostly dry. "Here, if you grab him I can get his limbs." Zena asked of Ruari, still cooing over her companion. With Chaz still in her left arm, she took the bag from her right shoulder and tossed it toward the masked man and the crowd. "And if someone wants to open the pocket on the left side there should be water and a few snacks. There's a container of dried fruit a friend gave me too and there's plenty of variety in it."

Marcus would run through the outer gate into the courtyard where he would be found later sitting with his back to the outer wall. Tears streaming down his face, the look of terror still within his eyes. It was easy to tell wolves had something traumatic to do with in his past.



Kyle on the other hand wanted to see everything and did not seem to be frightened of anything. As a matter of fact it seemed he overanalyzed everything until it was nothing to be frightened of.

This place reminded Marvel of a singles bar he'd been in once in the Bronx. There was a lot of ethnic diversity, but everyone was cool. The only thing missing was...the beer.

At least it wasn't boring. There were a million things that Marvel would rather do than sit around and...be bored. This was why, rather than make more acquaintances, he went over to the masked man.

Marvel could cast other spells, but his chief power was illusion. with other spells, he was one of many, but, in illusions, he had few equals.

So it was with some ease that he stood next to the masked man, opened his upturned palm, and zipped out an image of a magic wand. It even appeared in a burst of little stars, just for the affect.

"Does this wand of yours look like this?" he asked. "And, by the way, name's Marvel, what's yours?"

He hoped the shmuck was smart enough to figure out that he could change the image, or even allow the guy to change it himself.

The masked man smiled ever so slightly at Marvels spell of Illusion in making a copy of his wand. It was with small glint of mockery, but all in good fun that the masked man altered the image into a simple stick.

" If I where a betting man, I would bet you are fond of the Schools of Illusion. But this is to much as a simple trick for you I'm sure. And the burst of tinty stars makes for a good effect to those who are not atuned to the schools of magic and spiritual energies.... oh and my name... My name is unimportant, but if you so wish my name is Mathus Magnus, Wandmaster of Renezar.... or at least I was the Wandmaster. "

The masked man lowered his head slightly in shame as he finished his statement. He looked at his wand with great discomfort and saddness. The masked man was Hidding something, but in his condition he was unable to conceal that fact every well.

The pack was full of water and dried fruit like the person said. The Masked man drank the water fast and devoured the dried fruit as if it where but air.

" Thank you for the fruit and water I can not thank you enough." said the masked man as he gave the pack back. After looking around at the place before him he later asked

" Where am I? I have never seen a tower like this built from such a soft stone like this before..( touching the wall ) Quarts I believe."

Ivan Berezovsky have nodded in silence when asked about his health, for his focus was to the still downed man. He was apparently partly awake only, for he ignored the requests of that wand. There was something into his eyes giving away the fact he was simply too busy thinking on something to pay much attention to his surroundings. Then that strange individual called Marvel came with a fake wand illusion to the man, and he pretended to not be amused by it. Then the masked man came to the walls, apparently wondering where he was. Whoever Ivan's attention was drawn to Marvel, who seemed to be one of the most unique individuals of that strange crowd, or the one he shared a bit of common with despite all differences. First, he seemed, when in his human form, to be dressed in less anachronistic or fantastic clothes which were more fitting to be originated from an industrial civilization like his. Second, Berezovsky had a gut feeling that maybe greeting Marvel would be interesting. Thus he came to the gargoyle, his amulet hanging with Slavic pagan symbols as he greeted him with his typical Russian accent:

"So you have been amusing yourself with some illusions, I see. I would advise that sticking too much to illusions might blur your touch with reality, but it is simply too interesting to dismiss altogether. Greetings, I am Ivan Berezovsky, I hope if it's not a problem for me to ask you, but you look... different besides the obvious fact. Have you ever been in an industrial city before? You simply have a certain way and appearance of someone whose travels have not been limited to only rural areas or non-industrialized towns"

“I agree, let’s give them a proper welcome. They might become the newest instructors and students of the Tower. It is fitting we both greet them.”

Galvenor turned toward the Tower Doors again and began to walk toward them. The Ta’Nar assumed the Eldar mage would follow.


Eldrad did follow in his stride, half a pace and to the right, making it clear who was in charge. He couldn't deny, returning here did bring about some trepidation in his ancient being. The war had caused him to slightly re-evaluate the manner in which he conducted himself.

Sighing slightly, he shook himself and got ready to talk to these new students. Privately, he prayed that none of them would think themselves 'better' than those who instructed them... he hated having to show students exactly what it was to use and understand magick in all forms.

Meanwhile the kimono wearing Yuki and Miki were sitting on their trunks calming their tribbles. Their pets hated to have to travel by vortex but there was usually no alternative.

These sisters looked ready to learn and ready for the adventures this school promised in and out of classrooms.

The massive pair of front gates, fashioned out of a pale white wood of some sort, swung silently open. There was not an impressive BOOM, a massive light display, or even any magical special effects, just the door opening silently on well-oiled hinges. From within the yawning doorway stepped two beings.

The first appeared to be an elf of some sort although the subtype was not immediately apparent. The silver hair gleamed like electricity in the sunlight, liquid silver cascading down his shoulders. His pale skin added to the look of being an elf, even his amber eyes and slightly pointed ears. His youthful face was long and slightly angular. He was wearing a silver shirt of finely woven silver threads and a very comfortable loosely fitted comfortable looking pants. His feet were shod in black leather boots. Around his shoulders a dark green cloak was draped, clasped with a greed jade brooch depicting a gold embossed gryphon. Perched upon his shoulder was what could at first be called a miniature red dragon but at second glance the tail ended in a wicked looking barbed stinger.

Behind him half a pace and to the right strode another being, clearly not human (insert description here of SE’s choosing)

The two walked down the half dozen steps to meet their prospective students. Some of them might be talented enough and of the proper disposition to even become teachers here, it all depended upon them.


-----


Marcus was still sitting around the corner from the outer wall gate with his back against the cold stone of the wall. He was still panicking knowing there was a wolf around, memories of what they did to his parents flashed through his mind, causing him to relive them as if he was still seven years old. The scars on his legs began to throb.


-----


Kyle being further back of the group noticed the door opening out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and watched the two walk out of the very doors he was waiting to open.

"Hey, we have company."


-----


http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v248/beldragos/BelDragos.jpg
Galvenor with Alya

Zena turned to look at the two figures while still struggling with Chaz, who she dried the best she could. "Well I'll be darned. Company we have." Chaz wriggled free of Zena's grasp and vanished before landing only to reappear on Zena's still wet shoulders to hide from the newcomers.

Ivan Berezovsky have nodded in silence when asked about his health, for his focus was to the still downed man. He was apparently partly awake only, for he ignored the requests of that wand. There was something into his eyes giving away the fact he was simply too busy thinking on something to pay much attention to his surroundings. Then that strange individual called Marvel came with a fake wand illusion to the man, and he pretended to not be amused by it. Then the masked man came to the walls, apparently wondering where he was. Whoever Ivan's attention was drawn to Marvel, who seemed to be one of the most unique individuals of that strange crowd, or the one he shared a bit of common with despite all differences. First, he seemed, when in his human form, to be dressed in less anachronistic or fantastic clothes which were more fitting to be originated from an industrial civilization like his. Second, Berezovsky had a gut feeling that maybe greeting Marvel would be interesting. Thus he came to the gargoyle, his amulet hanging with Slavic pagan symbols as he greeted him with his typical Russian accent:

"So you have been amusing yourself with some illusions, I see. I would advise that sticking too much to illusions might blur your touch with reality, but it is simply too interesting to dismiss altogether. Greetings, I am Ivan Berezovsky, I hope if it's not a problem for me to ask you, but you look... different besides the obvious fact. Have you ever been in an industrial city before? You simply have a certain way and appearance of someone whose travels have not been limited to only rural areas or non-industrialized towns"

"Marvel," the demon said with a smile--a sincere one this time. "My illusions are for other people, not for me. That's why they're useful. That's why WE ALL KNOW WHAT WE'RE LOOKING FOR NOW--NUDGE NUDGE WINK WINK!"

He continued under his breath. "And if my clothing is humble, don't mind me. I guess I've been around a little--but boy are those two hoity-toity types up there just beggin' ta have some fun made of 'em or what?"

He extended his hand. As Lord High Elf stood there trying to look important (and coming off as self-important, at least to Marvel, anyway), his gryphon belched. Loudly. And long. Marvel just couldn't hold back the smirk.

He may not have been evil, but he was still a demon.

------------

OOC:

No offense, but, when practiced at the level that this crowd uses it, magic can be used as the stuff of harmless pranks. As Marve would say, all ya gotta do is remember ta keep it harmless...

The masked man glanced over his shoulder towards the door to see who or what had caused it to open. He saw to figures, one was clearly an elf, but not one he had ever seen before, the dragon was a nice added effect. And then there was a other person behind the elf. Unmistakably non-human and not elf as well.

He could feel a great amount of knowlage was stored between the two of them. And one had seen a many of deaths and fought many battles. A struggle still runs its course with the one in the back. As if he was still on edge awaiting an attack.

The masked man moved ever so slowly towards the door an the people now blocking the doorway. Keeping his wand well hidden and hoping that none would see it anymore. It was his greatest masterpiece and his greatest curse.

As he approached he awaited he see if they would speak.

Arkane (http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b360/DMG2005/Arkane.jpg), due to his visions of a future to be followed, had been one of the first to arrive at the White Tower, but it was not long until others - many others - had flocked to the area. As they waited for the tower's host to invite them in, many had begun talking and making a light commotion, but the cloaked man had no part of it. He sat quietly on a white stone bench that sat neatly beside the gates with his gray cloak draping over his body and just barely touching the green, green grass below.

He held his eyes in a constant forward 'stare' for his eyes were of no use to him. They had not been so in a very long time. And though he made up for his lack of physical sight with a metaphysical sight that enabled him to see all about him and more, he paid no heed to his present surroundings. Time was calm for the moment and there would be plenty of it to get to know the others.

Sitting next to the old wizard on the stone bench was a small little bear, fuzzy from head to toe and gripping a small, classical guitar. Orson (http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b360/DMG2005/Orson.jpg) was his name; he was one of the spirits that followed Arkane and had taken a corporeal form. His tune was pleasant and he sung lightly a song that always pleasing - slow and methodical, it seemed to strum at one's very nerves. However, as not to be rude, when the two hosts of the tower appeared, he stopped his strumming and looked up from his guitar. Arkane, sensing and "seeing" their presence as well, turned his blind eyes on the elf and human, though he remained on his bench.

Soon, though, another member of the wizard's posse appeared. With only a soft blip to alert anyone of his presence, Chipper (http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b360/DMG2005/Chipper.jpg) appeared on Arkane's shoulder in mid-bite of a small nut. The little chipmunk was wildly energetic and generally uncontrollable, but with Galvenor and Eldrad's greeting of those in attendance, he froze mid-chew and moved his vision from the nut to the mages.

All three, as unusual as they appeared together, waited.

J'age had but away the jerky after only a few bites. It reminded her too much of what...of whom she had lost...[/i]Sometimes you tell the day
By the bottle that you drink ...And times when you're all alone all you do is think[/i]

She shook her head fiercely. J'age had never been one for drinking much, it ruined ones' self-control, and that was something she had always prided herself on, but she had to acknowledge the words, and the truth of the pain they bore. Better to not think, though she'd alwsy known the proce she'd pay for love. And would never regret it.

The comotion of the doors opening brike her frim her thoughts and happy for the respite she watched interestly, observing and cataloging the two from inside carefully.

Miyu stepped back from the door as it opened and they seen their hosts for the first time.

She wasn't much older than the Neo Kirisuban students that had arrived after her but in a society where you came of age at 16 you could also accomplish as lot at a young age.

It also looked like they'd get some answers as the sisters drifted over to her side still with tribbbles in hand.

Flying was a skill best left to the people who train for it, or as a new student by the name of Crisi (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v734/hobbeeb/Izis.jpg) found out the hard way. She flowed through the air like a piece of dust simply floating around without a simply care. But as luck would have it a white tower had now appeared where it was never before. The path she took was a common was her as she took it about once every week. And with a sudden connection with the tower would suggest she was not expecting the tower to be there.

After contacting the tower she fell from the sky and almost landed face first on the ground but instead fell about one foot from the ground- not to far from the door that had just opened. She was greeted with the image of two people standing in the door way. She smiled innocently and gently and smiled at the people around here.

" Hello, I'm Crisi."

"Boy." The voice was deep and had a thick accent that most would have termed "germanic" or "slavic". "Calm down. Boy, pay attention to what I am saying. You fear the wolven, and yet desire to be a mage. There are far mre frightening things in this world than the wolf, child. Tell me of your reasons for being here, and I will enlighten you about some things in this world of ours." The armor creaked slightly as he settled back against the wall, turning towards the seated youngster who was obviously terrified of the wolf.

Zena sighed. "You must be James. I found a note while I was packing to come here telling me of you and Joshua was right, you do come off strong. He's obviously terrified and you're giving him information that will scare him more."

"Uh, my name's Ru--," Ruari began, seizing his chance to get to know the woman with the cat.

"Well I'll be darned. Company we have."

Damn it, aren't I ever going to finish a sentence here? grouched Ruari to himself, turning, as everyone else seemed to have done, towards the two figures in the doorway.

He recognised with something of a thrill that one of them was an elf. Not a race with which Findhornians had much contact, though there seemed to be a fair few of them around. In fact -- he eyed the gathering crowd -- there seemed to be a fair few of every kind of strange being around.

He couldn't work out if they were teachers or students. Actually, now he thought about, he couldn't even work out if this was a school. Some sort of university of magic, perhaps?

Or (gulp!) maybe it was for the, umm, magically disturbed?

As he waited apprehensively for the newcomers to speak, a girl dropped from the sky. Well, more stumbled from the sky.

The method of her arrival seemed to add a little evidence to his magic-looney-bin theory.

Wow. Tough croud. Nobody'd even noticed his little prank. No matter. There would be plenty of other opportunities.

When Marvel started getting bored, one of his favorite passtimes was the Name Game...this was a completely private game where he made up names for the people around him that he'd never tell them...so...

But what to do next? He could always build more castles in the sky with Airhead...or he could pot around with ol' Metal Hide and see if he could get anything through that led-lined skull of his...or he could run from the dogs with Fraidy Cat...or he could swap yarns with The Love Kittens and their little collection of small, hairy, round objects.

At least he was still smilin'...boy, was he smilin' now...

----------------

OOC: No offense meant. I can include others in the parade if they'd like. ;)

Eldrad raised an eyebrow as he looked over the crowd assembled in the main courtyard. He'd been right in his assertation that they were from all over the place... but even he had not reckoned on so many arriving within such a short space of time. Several of them looked as if they might have some potential, the others he was not yet certain of. Only time and actual speech would tell how effective they might be... and despite his best intentions, he heard the little voice in the back of his head say that some might be trouble. Not serious trouble, but the sort of trouble one normally expected from an unruly child who wasn't used to being told 'no!'

Clearing his throat, he used a small flicker of magick to enhance his vocal chords, his quiet and refined tones amplified into something resembling a megaphone,"Ladies and Gentlemen, if we could have your ears for but a moment. The Chancellor of the White Tower will address you."

Marvel snapped to attention. For a moment, he considered granting his new speaker's request--literally--and making his ears look just like the demon's. He thought better of it. He didn't look like he had much of a sense of humor.

"Uh, my name's Ru--," Ruari began, seizing his chance to get to know the woman with the cat.

Zena looked back to him. "I didn't mean to cut you off. Please, continue."

,"Ladies and Gentlemen, if we could have your ears for but a moment. The Chancellor of the White Tower will address you."

J'age simply continued waiting, her stance resting easy, but she observed everything that went on about her. She might not have had training 'in the military' but she'd survived a lot of combat and other tight situations. J'age was never one to let her guard down. And she was infinitely patient.

The girl falling out of midair had not earned so much as a raised eyebrow

Ivan returned to an introspective sight of the situation, as he nodded to Marvel following his explanations and decided to take his place near a shrub where he sat and pondered if it have been the best idea to come to such strange place. It was getting as crowded as ever, and it seemed to him that perhaps it was exactly some magnet to magic what was ahead of him, still closed and unaccessible. There was a strange girl who literally felt on that courtyard, Until another one came announcing that the host of that place was about to arrive. It seemed quite simplistic to him its name. It was just named as it is, an white tower. No historic names or alike which were common in both the soviets and principalities. Yawning, he approached Marvel again, for it was the most interesting of the crowd. He wouldn't admit it, but the only reason he converted to the worship of the Slavic gods was pure convenience, and in truth whenever he mentioned it, he was actually lying. They told him that skepticism is harmful to magic, however, many with the gift who came from his lands never worshiped anything. He was an exception, for him Marvel was just something which originated from randomness rather than from some sort of intelligent design. Curiously, and intuitively, Ivan asked to the gargoyle:

"Have you ever been in Sovetskikh Par? Your demeanor implies you have visited more progressive lands where the people don't smychok k prezrennym koroljam, ne imejut nikakoe znachenie krome ikh zanoschivosti, and as it is the only place of these types I know of, as my homeland, I have to ask you.". It wasn't understandable why he used his strange language in the middle of his words, but for some reason he decided to.

Fortunately, when he heard "Soviet [whatever]," Marvel got one of his translation spells up and running--sorta. What he heard when the guy snapped back into his slavic tongue was "bow to the contemptible kings, who have no value except for..." and then the spell failed.

We've got problems with authority, don't we? And we're wordy, too. Hmmmmm...I think I like this guy already.

"Never been there," the demon replied, a twinkle in his eye. "Maybe we can go there during a holiday an' show king and pauper alike how to have a good, drunken party."

------------

OOC: Once again, please do not confuse my characters with me. I am a teatotaler. I've never been drunk in my life and have no intention of ever getting that way (and the diabetes I suffer from won't help anyone to corrupt me). It's just role play.

Zena sighed. "You must be James. I found a note while I was packing to come here telling me of you and Joshua was right, you do come off strong. He's obviously terrified and you're giving him information that will scare him more."

"James? I am Gustav von Stueben, Graff von Stueben, Knight Captain of the Order. I have never even met a person by the name of James. I am speaking of facts. Orcs in my native land ride Wargs, which are wolves more massive than any you have seen. There are things more frightening than the wolf. Wyrms and Wyvern foremost among them. I have fought a number of beasts, and learned that you cannot show fear, fear rules you, and robs you of strength. That wolf will do you no harm boy. You have my guarantee on that."

It was clear that Eldrad's message had not reached all ears, and this irritated him slightly. Children who do not listen are frequently those who believe themselves to be the only ones worth listening to. A slight sigh, and then he glanced at Galvenor, "I think you should be the one to get their attention - a Ta'Nar is not something easily ignored."

The hint of a grin tugged at the corners of Galvenor's mouth, "So it would seem, old friend."

He stepped forward once more. Casting a psionic blanket over the entire crowd, to silence them and hopefully open their ears to his words, he raised his hands to reinforce the message. Once the entire crowd had directed their gaze, he smiled at them all, "Welcome. Welcome, one and all, to the rebirth of the White Tower. This school has stood for many years... and has gone from strength to strength. All are welcome, should they wish to learn from the wisdom of others, to pass on their knowledge to those less fortunate, or simply to research from our vast library methods of improving not only their magickal skill, but also themselves as people, in the process. I am Galvenor, the Chancellor of this school, and its longest serving member. Next to me stands Eldrad Ulthran, of the people known as the Eldar. He is one of their wisest figures, and a man of great personal strength. I am honoured to have him stand alongside me, and I know that it fills his heart with as much pleasure to see students returning to the White Tower."

Eldrad inclined his head briefly to all those present, acknowledging Galvenor's praise of him. There was a brief pause, to ensure that his words were going in, before he continued, "There is much to be learnt, and none can ever know all there is to be known. But what is most important is that we aid one another in dispelling our own ignorance. Ignorance is something that cannot be tolerated, and I stress to you all from the start of this endevour that it shall not be tolerated within these walls. This is a place of learning, not of conflict. With that in mind, I welcome you all to the White Tower, and hope to speak to you all personally."

The blanket was lifted, allowing those present to talk amongst themselves once more. Marcus, who had not moved despite the so-called 'assurances' of this Gustav von Stueben, did not reply, frozen as he was with fear at the sight of the wolf. It was all too easy for this man to say not to be frightened... but traumatic experiences ran deep sometimes, their after-effects being felt by the victim for many years. He thought of snapping at this man, who claimed to have seen all these terrible things, saying that it was all very well for him to go on about his experiences, but had he ever been mauled by such beasts? Mauled so badly that the scars had never healed, and even now caused him considerable discomfort. But he did not say such things, it was not in his nature, so paralyzed by fear was he.

Kyle, on the other hand, had listened intently to what the speaker... what was his name... Galvenor, had been saying. All this talk of knowledge, and self improvement struck a chord within the young man. He bore so much theoretical knowledge, but had thus far struggled to translate it into practical, working, magick. Maybe here, he could do so, with the help of those around him.

"Boy. Trust me. I'm standing next to you. I'm not letting the thing get close enough to attack me. As long as it doesn't move, it stays alive, and as long as you stay near me, you needn't worry." His hand absent mindedly moved to check his sword at his side, making sure it was loose out of habit. "If that bastard up front does anything like that again though, I'mgoing to let him have it. Where I come from, you don't do that. You respect a mans mind and body."

Cold eyes surveyed the armored figure as it spoke

Where I come from, you don't do that. You respect a mans mind and body."

"And a knight is supposed to respect others and give the courtesy of listening when one's hosts speaks" J'age said, her tone dispassionate. "And the wolf will not bother you, if you do not bother it. Wolves instinctively fear man, and unless certain circumstances apply, will seek to leave humans far behind."

She clapped sharply and the wolf, it's reckless hunger sated, tucked it's tail and fled. The stench of humans was truly too much for it.

"Though that one might be back. Wolves are social creatures who need their pack to be whole. This one alone may be a sole survivor, or an older male who could not bear to become the pack omega." J'age finished and turned away, "If it does let me know. I worked in wolf rehab for a while, though I couldn't get my certification."

"James? I am Gustav von Stueben, Graff von Stueben, Knight Captain of the Order. I have never even met a person by the name of James. I am speaking of facts. Orcs in my native land ride Wargs, which are wolves more massive than any you have seen. There are things more frightening than the wolf. Wyrms and Wyvern foremost among them. I have fought a number of beasts, and learned that you cannot show fear, fear rules you, and robs you of strength. That wolf will do you no harm boy. You have my guarantee on that."

Zena quickly apologized for the mistake. "I'm sorry, I guess I was a little over eager to connect you to someone I was told about in a letter." She then focused her abilities on creating an astral projection that materialized itself next to Galvenor. "If you have a moment, I'd like to speak to you. I believe you've met my boss, Joshua, while at the meeting of the Wizard's Council and he sent me to help out here." Her projection spoke as it hovered a few inches above the ground.

Seeing another witch fly in using a style she'd be familiar with Miyu listened to the Chancellors speech.

The two Kirisuban sisters also listened both of them noticing better what they liked.

Cute boys and girls. Each of them went after a different gender although. with their tribbles calmed down they took out their wands from their obi's and placing their tribbles on their shoulders levitated their trunks upwards slightly.

This way they could guide their luggage as they said "leviosa trunk", their trunks floating a foot above the ground and able to be guided to their dorm.

Ivan have listened to Marvel attentiously and smiled. Then suddenly everyone became strangely silent, as if someone was pulling some strings as a man arose and began a speech about what that place was about. The white tower was apparently a center for magical studies, as he imagined. However, something which has filled him with disgust, specially from the way they despised necromancy, is how they have no scruples to use powers for mind control. Berezovsky might be very weak of body, but his mind was strong or perhaps such types of magic were not very effective against his people, or perhaps he was lucky. The magic had no effect into him besides drawing his attention to the caster, and while that individual identifying himself as Galvenor spoke, he whispered to himself, putting over and over in his mind how absurd was to disdain necromancy but to puppet the minds of sentient beings.

"Ehto kak licemernost' idet"

His whispers were almost inaudible for anyone besides himself or someone very close to him, and probably, other than for the fact he apparently was not paying the forced attention through his eyes towards those two, apparently powerful individuals, there was no way to perceive he wasn't influenced by whatever was done there. Instead his eyes always were facing around, or more exactly, towards Marvel, who hopefully wouldn't be affected by something which was the only taboo Ivan had on magic. Controlling live minds was worse than raising cadavers in his opinion, and it was the most abominable of all magics. If it worked, it would permit tyrants to rule forever, people to be stripped of any free will and humanity to be extincted as a sentient species. Perhaps the Soviets were right about non-human magical beings as well, although he preferred to reserve his judgment for later on that individual called Eldrad, who seemed suspicious for him, while Nanluir seemed somewhat arrogant near to humans. He looked at the Gustav protests, and after greeting him briefly, whispered in a discrete manner:

"Knight Captain Stueben, in my land, those who attempt to delve with the art of puppeteering human minds are burned at the stake, shot, decapitated and executed in all possible forms. It seems horrible, but I find it disturbing the possibilities of doing such actions. It is worse than tyranny. Fortunately there nobody ever succeeded to do something like this."

Before he could be answered, he simply said openly to hide his whispers further:

"Nice to meet you Knight Captain, I never seen a real knight before, only cavalry. Where I came from, the last knights lived three hundred of years before I was born. I have much interest in learning more about the ideals of chivalry. But as it seems there is not much freedom to talk, could you give me a few words on what you believe and feel being a knight?"

" Well then it appears my travels are over!" excitedly exclaimed Crisi as she strightened out her shirt and looked around the towers enterance.

Crisi had ben searching for something, although she never knew what it was. But a strong sense was pushing her to stay here and learn what she could before venturing off once more to find what her heart was truely after.

" Will we have to draw straws for rooms or does each have their own room? I tend not to like people looking at me while I get dressed in the morning." Asked Crisi as she bowed in front of the two figures in the door way very humbelly(SP).

Mean while, after the two had finished speaking The masked man kneeled before the two men at the doors enterence and spoke in a most respectable tone.

" My lords, I wish to stay here till I can regain my strength and continue my exile. I will not stay long if you wish it. I will offer what ever service I can as payment. I do not brag but I used to be a very accomplished Wandsmith in my homeland. I could teach while I stay here."

He remained kneeled until they replied.

Marvel shirked off the glamour with a very annoyed twist. Marvel had over a century of experience with magic, a twenty-year prank war with that geek Yendor and run-ins with just about every variety of cutthroat and megalomaniac he could think of, but he'd never run into this.

That creep was so full of his own powers that he just tried to go and mind trip the whole convention.

You don't DO that to people, he thought, rather loudly.

Marvel looked over at Ivan. The cossack, too, had evaded the spell. Good. Marvel was really starting to like Ivan.

It's not easy to pay attention to what someone's saying when you want to put an illusion on it to make every word sound like a fart, but, somehow, Marvel managed. Wise. Really, was all he could manage to think about it.

For Arkane, the library of the White Tower that held vast and ancient knowledge was his choice destination, but the weather was quite nice out - much better than the snow he had left a week earlier - and he decided to remain. From the stone bench on which he and the spirits that accompanied him were perched, the music began again, attracting all sorts of wisps and birds to the area. It was a very pleasant and melodious tune suited to nature's surroundings.

Everyone else seemed to have something going on, some bother or another, but the blind seer was content to take his time in getting situated. Time was eternal, after all. He sat quietly with a smile on his face and his ever-present stare locked forward. Those that wished to converse would come and converse and those that did not, would not. In time, he would take up his natural position in the school, unless someone wished his abilities elsewhere. The eagerness he felt over that library was making him brim with excitement, but he contained himself and continued his solemn session on the bench...

First, there was ball of light of the purest white conceivable. It was a relatively small one, only the size of an apple. In a time of a few seconds, it began to grow, and took an oval shape. Once it had reached the height of near two meters, its growth ended. Once that had occurred, a sudden, pitch black pulse came forth from the center of the oval shaped thing. What had been pure white was now impossibly black.

Moments later, the oval turned into the blackest of flames, losing its oval-like shape in the process. As these flames began to dissipate, a man appeared in the middle of them. The flames were burning on him, on his clothes, but leaving him seemingly unhurt. Indeed, even his purple robe, while it seemed to be on some strange, otherworldly fire, was not getting damaged by the effect.

As the flames finally were nearly extinguished, the man sighed and wiped the last vestiges of the flames on his arms with his hands. Once that was over with, he glanced at the people a bit away from him.

"Hmph," he muttered, "Seems I have reached my destination."

Marvel edged a little closer to the knight whom Ivan was talking with.

"Gustov von Steuben, eh?" he said. "Can I call ya 'Gus?'" He extended his hand in a gesture of friendship, and smiled another friendly smile. "I'm Marvel, by the way--and 'Marve' is just fine with me."

Crisi giggled lightly at the way Marvel spoke, she had never heard anyone speak the way he did. She had seen people like him, but never actually spoke to them.
She also found him mildly attractive. Crisi was not a cheap date, but she loved to flirt and lead men and mer on as if she really wanted them.

Slowly she moved over to Marvel and spoke up.

" Well hello there... marvel right? I was wondering if you would help me carry my bags inside to a room for me."

Zena looked around, watching the people chat and flirt while Chaz found his way back to her arms to get his belly rubbed. Using her telekinesis, she formed a ball of air to sit on. Falling back onto it, the ball cushioned her fall and she floated lightly above ground of the castle. I really should consider going inside. Zena thought to herself as she called for her bag. It zoomed across the short distance and she pulled out tools to begin to pen a letter. There were a few people she thought could really learn a lot here.

Dastardly Stench;13667906']Marvel edged a little closer to the knight whom Ivan was talking with.

"Gustov von Steuben, eh?" he said. "Can I call ya 'Gus?'" He extended his hand in a gesture of friendship, and smiled another friendly smile. "I'm Marvel, by the way--and 'Marve' is just fine with me."

"You may not. If it was intended for me to be referred to as "Gus", I find it quite likely that I would have been named such, don't you?" So many people talking to him at once, he addressed them in reverse order. "My duty, sir, is to my lord and land. Emperor Bismarck has decreed that those with mage potential among his knights be trained as a precaution, and to defray cost. Chivalry is a myth, perpetrated by fools. My title is a rank, and not a burden imposed by a religion I do not accept or adhere to. If you desire chivalry, consult a work of fiction. If you desire truth, then we will speak. I am bound to the law, not courtesy." Moving on... "And you, idealist." He skipped over the other woman, having resolved their confusion with a simple statement. "You believe that the wolf desires harm of no man? Wolf rehabilitation, a concept so asinine as to bear repeating. And I suppose you will tell me that the bears meant no harm when they ate the madmen who lived among them? That the beast meant no harm when it tore away half of my face? That it was simply being a wild creature, and was more afraid of me than I was of it?" He was on a roll now, stupidity on this level had gotten nearly 40 innocent, though equally misguided, workers, wood cutters, and townsfolk killed. That stupidity had forced the Emperor to deploy not only a portion of his knights, but to call up the guard as well, to help in containment. He reached up, removed his helmet, and displayed the red lines that marred his face, angry burning scars where the bears claws had torn away his helmet and nearly ripped his face off. The smell of ozone and burned flesh seemed to linger in the air as he recalled the shock as he took in the damage. One eye was pulled down by the scars, and his mouth was turned up in a permanent grimace by the horrible damage that had been visited on his face by the beast, taught that man was easy prey and willing to try and kill again. "I am Gustav von Stueben, I killed the bear, and its pelt covers my mattress. Do not try and tell me that the animal means no harm. Indulge your peaceful delusions on your own, but if I see that wolf again, I swear to you that I will spread it across several yards of turf with a crossbow bolt faster than you can blink. Ignorant fool. If an animal feeds on humans, it needs to die, lest it learn to savor the easy fare. If you have not the sense or the stomach to see that, then do not bother to speak further. Your bliss will not be interrupted again by this painful dose of reality." He turned, jammed the helmet back on his head, and walked away. If anyone had been paying attention before, they might have noticed the snarling bear head that adorned his helmet. It was a large grizzly pelt, and he had come by it honestly. As honestly as he had come by those scars. "Do not fear the wolf, boy. There are more frightening things nearby than ever the wolf will be."

Ignorant fool. If an animal feeds on humans, it needs to die, lest it learn to savor the easy fare. If you have not the sense or the stomach to see that, then do not bother to speak further. Your bliss will not be interrupted again by this painful dose of reality."

"I said nothing about wolves that have indeed turned mankiller. But that wolf hadn't - it was starving and went after the first prey it saw, any predator would. Otherwise it would have acted differently." Jages eyes flashed but her tone hadn't changed at this point. "And if you don't know of what I speak of - which you obviously don't - don't compare your world and its denizens with mine.

"And Knight" her tone spoke ill of that title " I said nothing of chivalry. I spoke of courtesy, and it is generally common courtesy to listen when one's prospective teachers speak. But as you are apparently uncommon I guess such can not be expected from you."

And while there was no overt movements from her, any with eyes to see - and the knowledge there of - would discern subtle changes in her posture. J'age wasn't the kind to be caught off guard. And she didn't need weapons to defend herself.

First, Gussie got all fussy.

When it was done, he was showing off a rather nice little improvement that had someone had made to his face. Of course, he didn't think of it that way. To him, it was somekind of badge of courage.

Of course, Marvel couldn't resist. "Oh, he said, that. I can fix that" He lifted his hand and adjusted the old codger's appearance to make it look like he'd never been injured. Of course, he only changed the appearance--it was an illusion. The guys eyes would still be a little out of kilter, because he hadn't really changed. "There. Illusion de jour. Cosmetic surgery without the trauma. Your face looks just like it used to. Then again, maybe I shoulda just let it be." The guy would probably be ungreatful and want his old face back, but what the heck, Gussie was the one talking about how Chivalry was useless.

Then, Airhead slid up to him and tried to wheedle. What she didn't know was that she was a whole different species from him, and her "feminine wiles" didn't work on him any better than they worked on the wolf that had stopped by earlier. Red Gargoyles simply went by other cues. Not that Marvel would have minded helping out, but...there was another complication, too.

"Crisi," he said, "if you can levitate yourself all the way out here, why do you need me to levitate your bags around for you?" Truth was that he wasn't very good with levitation spells. His illusions were always top-notch, but his other magic...needed some practice. That was why he was here. That, and Yendor wanted him to get exposure to what the wiley wizard had called "alternative magical concepts." So, right now, know it or not, the poor girl was out of luck.

By this time, Death Girl was going into a rant on poor ol' Gussie, and Marvel doubted that it would go over well. Gussie had no sense of humor that anybody was aware of. Good thing Marvel had kept his mouth shut--as he always did when playing The Name Game--and not called him "ol' Metal Hide" to his face.

Before her temper could really get the better of them, Marvel decided to try to lighten the mood.

"Speaking of uncommon," the demon broke in, "may I ask your name?"

Zena looked up to see the commotion that had ensued. The demon was attempting to alter the knight's appearance while the flirt did was she thought she did best and the Death God ranted. Marvel she sent You may want to consider removing your illusion before he gets really mad. Besides, illusory magic has an aura that glows like the sun to my eyes and that's a very strong spell you've got going there.
The telepathic message was something only Marvel would hear though to everyone else it looked like Zena was just starting a second letter. She folded up the first and handed it to Chaz who bit a corner and jumped off Zena's lap. Before he hit the ground he vanished from the castle land and reappeared in front of a girl withe bright brown hair laying on her bed while reading a book.

Gustav removed his helmet again, to display his unchanged face. It was a testament to the enchanters that the inherent anti-magic barrier in his armor functioned despite the time since he'd last updated it. "I was under the impression that attempting to eat a man, by any reason, was the act of becoming a man killer. Just because the man did not die does not change the facts of the attempted crime. What you speak of is simply semantics, intent trumps action, and there are no mitigating circumstances. Dura lex sed lex. It is common to observe many things at once. I am managing two conversations simultaneously, and marveling at the sheer unadulterated, unassailable, pathetic, arrogant assumption of your holier than thou opinions. We cannot compare societies, though I am thankful I do not live in a world where a man may be half eaten by a mad animal, and the animal be set free to try again the next day. Uncommon stupidity from a very common woman. I should have expec`ted no less." He turned to look at Marvel next. "You may want to give that up. The enchantments can become aggravated if you attempt to bypass them too often. It might be painful."

The purple robed man smiled slightly for a moment as he walked closer to the group which seemed to be rather focused on their own conversations. They were about truly trifle things, he noted. Yes. But it was, in some ways, a nice change of pace after so many sombrous years... Indeed, it made him feel alive. Invigorated. Strange, he thought, but not completely unexpected. He noted the presence of an Infernal creature, but it seemed benign enough. Normally, however, he would have destroyed it on sight, but being in this place was not normal for him.

He stopped walking once he was close to the group of people, but he remained silent. People truly attuned with magic would feel something amiss with the man - like there was something that should not be in his very core, lingering, biding its time. An unsettling aura of some unknown darkness. But still, it is so slight, so weak that the same people would probably lose interest in it as quickly as they had noticed it, and, with high likelihood, ignore it.

Marvel returned the knight's blank stare. "Not a problem," he replied. "Gestures of unthreat are where one finds them." He collapsed the spell. Didn't hurt that it also went with Zena's little message--somehow, the name came with the telepathy.

He didn't want to get into the argument. Half eaten? The wandsmith looked pretty spritely for a guy who'd supposedly been all chewed up. There was obviously a little alternate reality inside that helmet that ol' Metal Hide lived in. These tend to react violently when disturbed. And besides, Marvel had no desire to start making enemies where he had none. It's better to be alive and disagreeing quietly than too dead to disagree at all.

Marvel had already put a stasis spell on the stag--he was surprised that it worked, but it did--and relayed the message to the wolf. Now, he had a friend. And he was sure he would be talking with his new friend more as time wore on.

Some friend of Yendor's had said that the best way to destroy an enemy is to make him your friend. Marvel liked that.

"My duty, sir, is to my lord and land. Emperor Bismarck has decreed that those with mage potential among his knights be trained as a precaution, and to defray cost. Chivalry is a myth, perpetrated by fools. My title is a rank, and not a burden imposed by a religion I do not accept or adhere to. If you desire chivalry, consult a work of fiction. If you desire truth, then we will speak. I am bound to the law, not courtesy."

Ivan listened to the words of the knight, and wondered as Gustav mentioned the "Emperor Bismarck". The name triggered some dull memories in his mind about the usual "History" class of Soviet Steam in the equivalent of an university, the Kollezhem, where he took a degree of Sociology about a decade and half ago. The teacher was one of those extremist men who thought everything in the world could be divided between "the poor" versus "the capitalists" and that shouted "counter-revolutionary" on the less than willing alliance with Novaya Russia. As expected, should this Emperor Bismarck be the same man he was taught, or more exactly, politically indoctrinated about, then a simple conclusion could be drawn about that realm: that it was beyond time itself, or perhaps, he pondered, he had returned to the past, traveled back through time somehow, for the place was, other than for a small group of people who were apparently Japanese, incredibly anachronistic to his eyes. The words of his own teacher began to form on his mind, as rescued memories from the depths of his consciousness.

´"The Prussian Duke of Lauenburg, Otto Von Bismarck, funded by many ambitious German capitalists with the goal of increasing their wealth at the expense of the proletariat, have climbed through a political career of deceit, interests, alliances, wars and cunning, and following the bourgeois pressure from their 'revolution', the monarchy has ceded in accordance to their common interest of exploiting the proletariat. Details are irrelevant other than the fact he became prime minister of Prussia, and eventually, Chancellor of a now unified German Empire. Bismarck was an advocate of Realpolitik, which is nothing but capitalist politics without rhetoric or illusions, but as they are. Regardless of his ends, in capitalist societies such are the means supposedly justified by egotism and inhumanity, and to employ such means is to embrace capitalism. Then, answer me: isn't an 'alliance' with the bourgeois interests of Novaya Russia realpolitik? Why should we be fooled by the mistaken views that 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'? We have lost much in the war against the inhuman magical beasts of Kingdom of Yaga and the hypocritical medieval clergy of the Theocracy of Perun, but does that justify an alliance of our revolution with capitalists?"´

It was a quite uncommon thing to see how the society Ivan came from originally had developed since they mysteriously vanished from Earth itself in that fateful day. Soviet Steam was theoretically a full-fledged dictatorship, yet people had almost complete freedom of speech, with no censorship except for a certain dislike of people who endorsed capitalism or the occult, the only things they couldn't do, except at a limited level of city governments, are to vote and to participate from political decisions. On the other hand, magic was completely forbidden and punishable by immediate execution, and of course, attempting to overthrow the government was very different from speaking against it. Now from the way he remembered of it, the Bismarck he heard about was a Chancellor to the emperor of Germany, not the emperor himself, and plus, according to history knights were already gone by the time of Von Bismarck, when gunpowder weapons already existed. Therefore, all such words were only useful to remind him of something completely irrelevant, for where Gustav came from, apparently his emperor last name coincided with the name of an historic figure Ivan was taught about. However, most important of all was how it reminded him of his answer to his History teacher, coming back from his memories:

´"Comrade Tokanov, can I counter you argument?"´, he remembered asking with a bit of fear, but with a clear sign of assuredness, as a positive answer came from the man, who emphasized how "only means of production which rely on lies like capitalism seek to stop people from countering what they claim to be truth, through both explicit and implicit methods of censorship".

´"In the geography class we were taught on how we don't border any of our enemies directly, and they have cross the extremely hostile environment of the Badlands to reach us. But more than half of our western borders are shared with Novaya Russia, while at the same time Novaya Russia, to its west, shares borders with Perun, now if they took over Novaya Russia with a successful invasion, our Red Watch would have twice more borders to protect from them, and the southwest border have a landscape which is much more plain than our hilly west and mountainous north borders, making from it an excellent point to stage an invasion. Plus Novaya Russia has much more farmlands than us, we would not have enough food for ourselves with we entered in a revolutionary war with them. I believe we should stick to this alliance, and once the time is ripe, stage a revolution in Novaya Russia as well instead of going to war with them. Our technology is ahead of theirs, and all that is necessary is some well targeted propaganda that attends to the most basic need of the Novaya Russians: their need of being sure that through the aid of each other, they will have everything they want and not only what the ungodly invisible hand of the 'free market' limits them to, for although they are indoctrinated to fear communism, they still love freedom, and if we offer it at a time when peace is achieved, a revolution will have high chances of success"´

He remembered the reprisal as his teacher called him "Machiavellic" and explained, or more exactly rambled on how such thoughts would "stray Soviet Steam away from the revolutionary path towards true communism" into what could be considered a carpet bombing of rhetoric. He was a man that put idealism over facts, who would rather have declared enemies knocking the borders than a weak, easily manipulated neighbor who at least had something in common with his country: their love of technology and fear and prejudice against magic. All those memories were indeed ironic for a man who could not control certain capabilities that were awaken in him just as the unexplainable warp to that new world happened. Capabilities that he hid as long as he could, but eventually Ivan had to leave in exile. However that long chain of memories also served for one thing: His arguments, his volunteer works in logistics that led to a brief military career as an ordnance officer, and eventually his assignment, ironically, as one of the war planners of the Theocracy of Perun, for the amount of rubles the bank kept for him from his payments was not small, and their payment was better than what Novaya Russia army offered. Where first their hatred against him was irrational, Ivan was now everything they hated: a Mage, a Mercenary and a Capitalist, although his disillusionment might be the most adequate of many reasons to explain such change. Nevertheless, he kept a firm stance on dismissing titles, hierarchies and formalities, reminiscent of the values of his former people: he only has kept a small facade of formal greetings and titles initially as he wasn't aware of how things would develop in that place of the present.

All that was past now, yet it influenced his visions in many ways. The masked man was one of those he had pity of: the man fell into his knees to the two figures ahead, calling one of them as his lord, despite the fact he probably never saw them, almost like a slave accepting surrender to his new masters with no resistance or struggle. He sighed as he saw the scene, disappointed on how that probably was the rule from where that man came from. Perhaps they were right after all, that the only way to lead mankind out of a dark age, or whatever more sentient was there, was through the beaten up like a dead horse, more spoken than done, revolution. That attitude, coupled with what that Galvenor had done before, even increased a certain seed of hostility and preemptive judgments about the morals of that man ahead. Possibly he was as hypocrite and holier than thou as the usual clergy of Perun on Ivan's mind, for such feature about them he heard many times about was not only propaganda. For now he kept his preemptive judgments to himself, for his social awareness meant such thoughts were better kept than told. However he wasn't very at ease to approach them and ask questions about such white tower, for now. For maybe there was some dirt and black spots behind the facade and hidden upon walls, Ivan thought. For now he would rather keep with the crowd, rather than speaking with those the poor man knelt to.

As Gustav demonstrated what a wolf attack can do, something Ivan was well aware of due to the overprevalence of those in his land, that apparently flamboyant creature decided to pull another prank from his sleeves, with no avail, for his illusion of reforming the face of the knight captain has been blocked by some type of field in his armor. Expectingly, the man became angered by such attitude of the gargoyle, including even an open threat, while he also was countering an also ridiculous argument, according to Ivan, from that strange, death-reeking woman about the wolf attack on the masked man.

A new arrival came, another mysterious type clad in a purple robe Ivan barely looked at, and somehow, that man had something strange about him, but as all those people were strange, he decided to ignore him for now. He would quickly forget seeing that man if not for one reason: he could almost feel something enticing him to show the more prejudice-filled side of necromancy, but perhaps it was simply the fact that, while it was not really a taboo in a culture where the bodies of the dead weren't considered valuable at all like the shared idea of all the people in Pangaea, he had kept it hidden for too much time, and it was bothering him to not be free for trying it. Another memory came to him from yet more History classes, on how the first studies of medicine delved into the considered 'profane' by dissecting human corpses to study the inner workings of the human body. Nonetheless, no matter how it seemed abhorrent to cut human bodies open, such studies would later contribute to save countless lives. He saw the other side of necromancy with the same eyes, for it was a mean, and not an end into itself. Like those who sought a deeper scientific understanding of life and death, he sought to acquire a magical understanding of both during his works. He had not yet dared to raise bodies, for he believed that it was unnecessary to study magic, but he had talked with the spirits of the dead before, and used magic to drain life force from some minor creatures, without harming them, and at worst only to defend himself. He couldn't envision how doing so was so abhorrent. However, Ivan pondered on the menacing possibility such strange man could perhaps identify whatever strange energy he emanated from practicing he so called dark arts despite his higher grounding on the so called white magic overshadowing them. But soon he came to peace with such fears.

When he cleared his mind of some of his thoughts on recent events, Ivan simply told to Gustav von Stueben, with a few brief words in reply to his words about the myth and fraud of chivalry, for it seemed that in such thing, his History teacher was not only parroting propaganda:

"Where I came from, people are not bound by decrees and loyalty on the usual sense, they are either bound to the highest bidder who offers the highest amount of gold to them, or to a certain red flag, which brings both extreme change and death, where it suddenly flies, announcing that everything will be different.

On wolves, there is only one rule animals follow, and only one reason they live for. The rule they follow is that might makes right, and they will kill with no problems those who are weaker than them or that are too pacifist even to defend themselves, if such actions are in accordance to their reason to live: survival. Animals don't kill for honor kings, ideas and alike, they only kill because they feel themselves or their territories threatened, or because their instincts call them to hunt the first prey they come to. However, I know one thing very well: whenever an attack of wolf happens in my land, it is only the beginning, for one reason. When there are more than one choice to ensure survival, like when there are more than one choice in a banquet, a wolf will choose the most delicious, and I know this sounds gross, but human flesh is the favorite of many carnivores. Thus our only choice in those cases was to kill all of them, or otherwise an entire breed of wolves used to human flesh would spring. And you know what consequences that would bear. For that is the only rule they understand."

"The Imperial Family have ruled our land for nearly 5,000 years. They rule, in the main, wisely and well. When they do not, we fulfill yet another of our many functions within the Empire, and remove them, by force if needed. I do not believe that they desire the flesh of men over the flesh of dumb beasts, I believe simply that the flesh of men is easier to obtain for the beasts. Where a hind or elk might scent a hunting pack, man is often less lucky, and may be brought down and consumed with ease if unarmed." He found himselfr liking this strange man Ivan. He was sure he seemed harsh and uncomprimising, but that was true. He came from a harsh and uncompromising land, so he molded himnself to the situation, and succeeded as best he could.

"Like, guys," Marvel said, "are we talking about the same species here? I mean, generally, there's simply no such thing as one human. You kill one, and, the next day, a hunting party of four or five armed men shows up on your doorstep, and they're not in the mood for tea and crumpets. It showballs from there. That's why just about everything out there gives you humans a wide berth. They know what's coming if they don't."

"Humans can disappear in the woods with ease. A pack of wolves that kills an unarmed man may go unnoticed until they try and kill several unarmed men, and one escapes to tell the tale. Then we hunt the killers down and eliminate them. Unless we know that the killing has happened, we cannot do anything about it. Unless a beast of some description is sighted that is out of the ordinary, in which case we are called in immediately and put every resource to use in killing it. Turning an artillery battery of black mana bombards on a dragon is an interesting experience I do not want to repeat. Siege weapons should not be the only weapon you have that will work against an enemy, no matter what size it is." He sounded almost offended that they had needed to use cannon to kill the beast, despite the fact that personal weapons based on those cannon were coming in to quiet use with other knights. They were calling them casters, and if he thought his crossbow bolts were prohibitively expensive, he would hate to have to buy the varied ammunition these new weapons required.

"Yeah, but, like, the places I've seen, it's kinda rare to have so few humans in an area that one of 'em can be killed and nobody'd notice. More likely is that they send out armed search parties. Heck--if I had a drop of water for every time one of those things locked onto me when I wasn't even anywhere near the thing that started the trouble in the first place, we'd need a boat right now."

"There are many very isolated portions of the empire. When adjuticating nearly 500 million people, things get very complex, very fast. When a large portion are independent farmers or other small holders, you can see how things might occur where people disappear unnoticed. We suspect that as many as 500 people each year disappear due to animal attacks where rthe animals aren't caught, though we use the term animal loosely." In this case "animal" included anything that wasn't a sophont. If it couldn't speak or otherwise communicate, it was an animal.

Marvel raised an eyebrow. People that far removed from the social net usually didn't have much loyalty, anyway. They were taking their chances, and they usually knew it. Marvel had lived that way for a while, but he'd never asked for pity for it.

"Life has its challenges everywhere," he said. "It is a good thing that some of the people where you live had you to rely on when things got...challenging."

"May I ask your name?"

She half snorted "I've been called many things, but name wise?" Tiny shrug, ignoring the others "J'age will do" The first letter , the J was rather a breathy sound, mostly unheard and the rest like the last of mirage -'räzh'

She paid no further attention to the 'knight' or the man who spoke an odd sort of russian, shrugging off their narrow vision.

She gestured to the now perserved remains of the stag. "Thank you for that. Though it is probably best if we do not leave it so close." With but an action of will the carcass vanished - it would reappear in the wood depths where the scavengers would benefit from it.

That done she turned back to see if more would be forthcoming from the pair that apparently had charge of the tower.

"Uhhh, Jage? Could you kinda...put that back? You probably didn't notice, but that was a time freeze I put on that thing. If anything tries to eat it, it'll be like biting down on a rock."

Marvel didn't tell her that the reason he'd left it in that condition wasn't so much for the wolf as for himself, but some things aren't meant to be advertised.

Arkane was sitting pleasantly, but his stomach was not. Interrupting the lovely music that Orson the Bard was playing, his stomach was growling ever louder as it made known its hunger. "Best be gettin' some grub..." Pressing down on his knees to get some support, the old mage straightened his back and lifted himself from the bench.

With his first step forward, he disappeared in an instant halfway through moving his foot low over the ground. The next moment, as his foot touched the ground, he was standing next to the two hosts of the tower, Eldrad and Galvenor. The spirits that had been surrounding him on the bench, both the corporeal and incorporeal ones, also disappeared and reappeared next to him. "I say good gentlemen," he spoke in an extremely soft and gravelly tone, "I've been traveling for a nigh a week now and I could really go for some good food." Luckily, he had a very low metabolism, enabling him to live for a day or two without feasting, but days without food had made him weak. "Unfortunately, conjuring such is not part of my repertoire. I was hoping there would be some to eat inside yon tower."

If anything tries to eat it, it'll be like biting down on a rock."


"Oh! Hmmm that would not be a good thing indeed. The majics for preservation I am used to are different than that. Thank's for warning me" Her lips twotched up in a tiny grin. "Now where..." She mentally 'fished' for it then found it - it took a small hand gesture to retrieve it...

She studdied remains, her head titlted slightly to one side "Should we just leave it here though, Marvel?"

Zena sat, still writing her second letter when Chaz reappeared. The cat however was not alone. A girl just younger than Zena appeared with him around her shoulders. Chaz clinging for dear life, the girl ran to her friend, surprising her from behind with a hug. "Zena!" she yelled shattering the almost peace of the area.
"Molly!" Zena managed to turn around to return the hug, the letter still writing itself in mid air. "I didn't expect you to be ready so quick." The girls continued to talk while the letter sealed itself and tucked itself under Chaz's collar. The cat disappeared while Molly sat down on a similar cushion of air to Zena's.

"I've opened up a mental link with the wolf, Jage. I was planning on letting it come back and snack out some more. When it came, I'd lower the spell. If there's anyplace else you think would be better for the wolf, put it there. Just let me know because, the way that time and space are linked, control of the spell is localized. I'll need to be near it to let it down again." And snack out a little, too. I get along with creatures like that.

"Of course, if you think it's too much bother, I could always just remove the spell right now." But I wouldn't be happy about it--then again, how would you know? You reading my mind, babe?

But I wouldn't be happy about it--then again, how would you know? You reading my mind, babe?

J'age snorted and replied aloud, but her voice was low, for his ears alone "Only when you're shouting like that." She commented then let the subject go.

" I just think that if we left it here in the courtyard, some" and her eyes flashed a glance at the so called knight among others "would use it as both bait and excuse. You want to snack on it?" J'age made a guess and shrugged "That doesn't bother me. I enjoy a fresh steaming liver myself."

Now why in the hell was she telling private things to a stranger? Because just talking to someone has gotten so rare that you're wierding out. Get ahold of yourself

"I'll let you decide where is best." She decided to leave it up to him. She was getting far too involved.

Eldrad sighed, and patted his friend Galvenor on the shoulder, "I will go and mingle with the students... and prospective teachers. See if I can glean any information on them... what their skills are, what they hope to achieve and so forth."

He stepped down from the stairs, standing only slightly taller than your average human would stand, and began flitting through the crowd slowly, listening to everything yet imposing on no-one. As he walked, he realised that whilst all these beings shared a desire to further their knowledge, Galvenor's message of tolerance might struggle to gain any headway. Not with all... just with some. He shook his head, and decided to stop and listen to the conversation regarding the boy, Marcus, and his fear of the wolf. The heated debate that had sparked from this was intriguing to him... yes, it was a wolf, a wild animal. The boy was well within his rights to feel fear... indeed, lack of fear indicated one of two things in Eldrad's mind - arrogance, the worst trait of any sentient being, and a flaw he saw within himself. The other was more worrying - lack of understanding. A lack of empathy, if you will. Nevertheless, he listened with interest, and would listen for a little longer.

Zena saw Eldrad walking amongst everyone and turned to face him. "Hello there. Would I be correct in assuming that you and Galvenor together run the school?"

Ohhh, you are reading my mind... This was going to be fun! Normally, Marvel didn't mess with 'noids, but this was just too good an opportunity to pass up. Looking at Jage, he feasted his eyes on her feminine form, and let loose every lascivious thought that he could get through his obnoxious little mind--and, with a tongue that was a foot and a half long, he could get pretty lascivious.

By the way...you can always put...the stag...in...the little clearing...by the edge of the deeeeep forrest.

Zena saw Eldrad walking amongst everyone and turned to face him. "Hello there. Would I be correct in assuming that you and Galvenor together run the school?"

Eldrad inclined his head, in the manner of the Elves, and smiled slightly, "That is essentially correct. I am Eldrad Ulthran, a long-serving teacher of this establishment. I would not go so far to say that I run the school... that is more Galvenor's remit... I am here to help those who truly wish to learn to expand their knowledge... and are not here for mere entertainment."

As he said this, whilst he was not actively listening in to the 'conversation' going on between the two minds, a little distance away, he was aware that it was not entirely innocent. One so attuned to the world could not miss it, but he would not listen without permission.

"Might I ask your name?"

Zena smiled and Mali relaxed on the air bubble some more. "Ah, thank you for that clarification. My name is Zena Arial Willa Montello. At first I came here hoping to help, seeing if Galvenor needed it, but the more I've been here the more I think I should be a student more than anything else."
Mali's soprano voice made it's debut to Eldrad. "It's certainly nice to meet you. I'm Mali Jungers." She extended her hand, offering to shake Eldrad's.
Zena spoke again. "Judging from your attitude, I'm guessing that you hear the conversation over there too? Really inappropriate it is. If I had my way, I'd take a knife to his tongue."

Her look changed not the slightest as she retaliated. J'age was already close to Marvel, and in one flowing move she had thorougly invaded his personal space. She was just an inch or two shorter than he. A firm thumb and firefinger pincered his goatee and drew his lips down to hers.

J'age kissed him with very throrough expertise. Unhurried but quickly over...

"Don't ever start something you aren't prepared to finish." Her tone was cooly amused as the stag disappeared to reappear where he had wanted it.

Turning away she noticed that one named Eldrad was nearby, in conversation with the girl Zena, and another named Mali.

"Judging from your attitude, I'm guessing that you hear the conversation over there too? Really inappropriate it is. If I had my way, I'd take a knife to his tongue."

Her voice was cold as she addressed Zena "Listening in on other's conversations isn't very polite. And while I didn't exactly appreciate his little adolescent display, I find your Mrs. Grundy attitude even more offensive. Please don't mistake me for someone unable to take a knife to your tongue."

Zena turned to face the angry woman. "Look, I didn't intend to listen in on it, but when someone is trying to get their thoughts heard, I can't tune it out. As much as I'd like to, I can't, at least not this close ranged. As for cutting my tongue out, it wouldn't do you much good, I'm much louder telepathically. Picture a thousand of me all yelling at you, but inside your head. That's about the volume level I could get to if I felt like it. I do apologize for upsetting you, but I simply can't block it out."

Eldrad raised his hand, speaking softly but with the strength of steel,"Enough of this senseless conflict. Individuals are welcome to do as they please within the White Tower... it is not our place to judge J'age's actions - yes, I know your name," he said, when J'age looked at him.

"Cutting out people's tongues, however, will not be tolerated. Do not make threats, and do not judge. Disprove, certainley, but do not allow it to cloud your judgement. Nor, Zena, will screaming like a thousand souls within a person's head be tolerated. We are not here to cause harm or drive those who visit to insanity, but to learn."

Now would come the test... there was little doubt that this elven figure was strong, but his words were so soft... it would seperate those who listened and those who didn't.

All that Mavel could do was laugh the most mirthful laugh he had ever laughed. He put his hand on Jage's shoulder.

"Ohh! Riot!" he exclaimed. "Well done! Honey, you got potential! Thank you so, so much!"

Seeing that all eyes had basically turned to him following his outburst, he decided to redirect attention to the (ahem!) Authority Figures. They may have been a little stuffy, but they were good at heart, and the demon, being turned to good, understood that there were plenty of candidates for the two not-quite-men's jobs who weren't as well qualified.

"So, Galvenor," he said, "where do we go from here? Are there going to be classes? Sign-ups? That sort of thing? This is a school after all. Or is there a sorting spell of somekind that we all have to go through?"

Zena sighed, quickly organizing her thoughts. "Eldrad, I do have self control. If I was going to sever his tongue, it would have happened by now, and saying one is capable of something doesn't mean they're going to do it. Mali here could, for example, put us all to sleep and pour paints all over us, but I highly doubt she will. I know we're here to learn, for I stated that very fact to you just moments ago and that's the reason I sent for Mali. And on a point of clarification, I was not judging J'age's actions, but the thoughts from Marvel being forced into my head." Winded from speaking so fast, she took a breath. and calmly continued. "I do however hope that we can still learn here in a peaceful manner, for that is the reason we were called." Still looking as though she could tunnel through a mountain barehanded, she began to repack her things to make entering the tower that much easier.
Mali rolled her eyes and stated that "Zena often works herself up when defending something or proving a point. It's just one of those things we learn to deal with. She'll calm down in a couple minutes as long as there's not too much more to upset her." She began to hum in an attempt to weave a spell of calmness through the area.

"Damn," Marvel whispered to Jage, "I bet that girl's never been turned on in her whole life!" He chuckled, then raised his voice.

"Sorry about, ummm, interrupting your train of thought, Zena," he said, still somehow not able to wrench the mischievous grin from his face. "Didn't realize that you picked up others' thoughts so easily. I promise I'll be much more careful in the future." An' I'll only use material that really annoys you, heh heh. What else are friends for, anyway?

Zena packed the last pen and closed her bag. "Well Marvel, it's the thought that counts anyway." She chuckled and allowed herself a message to Marvel. This oughta be interesting. I'll have to watch out for random thoughts in my head from now on. We'll just see how it works and who has the last laugh now won't we?

Picture a thousand of me all yelling at you, but inside your head. That's about the volume level I could get to if I felt like it. I do apologize for upsetting you, but I simply can't block it out."

"I can understand how it is upsetting. But passing jusgement - and being verbal about it is also uncool."

"Cutting out people's tongues, however, will not be tolerated. Do not make threats, and do not judge. Disprove, certainley, but do not allow it to cloud your judgement. Nor, Zena, will screaming like a thousand souls within a person's head be tolerated. We are not here to cause harm or drive those who visit to insanity, but to learn."

J'age nodded as his words reinforced her thoughts and views on the subject.

I was not judging J'age's actions, but the thoughts from Marvel being forced into my head.

She understood that, and she appreciated that Zena had understood her coment about ability. It hadn't been meant as a threat. She didn't make threats, but advising as to not mistaking, oh that she definitely did.

J'age has simply flowed aside as Marvels hand attemtped to land on her shoulder.

An' I'll only use material that really annoys you, heh heh. What else are friends for, anyway?

Her mind directed a reply strictly for Marvel alone, as she looked over at him and locked her eyes with his, leting him get a good long look "Don't! Stop escalating it...or do I have to dump you in a Video?"

Actually, he'd seen this before. When he'd escaped from the underworld, they were trying to feed him to an eater demon that was ever-so-descriptively named Slaboflab. He'd opened up a portal from inside the thing's throat, on the way down. And when he did, his whole life had passed before his eyes.

Still, he respected Jage. She wasn't all stuffy like some of the ones there--even if she did scorn his touch when he was only trying to be friendly.

So...he couldn't just stop being his ornery old self, but he had to let her know he was going to do what she wanted.

Ohhhh, alright, mom!

The grin never left his face.

Honestly. What good is life if you can't have a little fun?

It wasan't specifically his touch. Death simply wasn't for casual contact. And while hers was mostly ignored, she did understand his imp of the preverse.

Here, better than the other one I remembered and for approximately the next three real time seconds Marvel found himself along side Jackie (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BrKgLAXWLPM) though subjectively it lasted for well over three minutes.

But her existance wasn't about fun.

The Neo Kirisuban sisters let this play out as they levitated their trunks through the open doors and down to their quarters where they were sure they'd have company later.

Being used to dorm living in their old magic school this was expected.

Miyu also had moved into her quarters by now and was making herself at home ready for the work that would come.

"Uh, my name's Ru--," Ruari began, seizing his chance to get to know the woman with the cat.

Zena looked back to him. "I didn't mean to cut you off. Please, continue."

"--ari, Ruari Dhurigh. From Find--"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if we could have your ears for but a moment. The Chancellor of the White Tower will address you."

It felt like the time the choirmistress had grabbed both his ears. Glynnis ap Howell had little patience for choristers who were busy playing Gameboy. But this time he hadn't even been doing anything. Steaming slightly with indignation, Ruari tried to look around for his tormentor, only to discover that by the time he turned his head, he'd forgotten why he was doing it. His attention snapped back to the speakers.

It was pretty much the standard welcoming speech, yet Ruari had never found any spoken performance so fascinating. Every cadence, every vowel shone in his mind, every request and admonition engraved itself on his heart -- but at the same time, underneath it all, he was struggling to think.

Magic? The word floated to the top for a second, disappeared. An' it harm none! protested a phrase heard somewhere, but Ruari sank back into the eloquence of the Chancellor.

"This is a place of learning, not of conflict. With that in mind, I welcome you all to the White Tower, and hope to speak to you all personally."

Well, I wasn't harmed, so I guess it must have been okay, Ruari told himself dubiously, realising as he did so that he'd actually completed an independent thought.

Hah! So the magic, whatever it was, had been turned off. He stored the information away: round here, they didn't ask permission to do magic on you.

Shrugging into the backpack again, he looked around. Try as he might, he couldn't see anything that looked like students being organised, hectored, wooed, chased off to Admin or gathered into any of the standard start-of-school activities. But then, this wasn't a school. Still, surely somebody should be doing something about rooms, or a Refectory, or some such?

Movement near a side corridor caught his eye. A couple of girls with luggage floating along behind them -- unless it was running on little legs, he wasn't close enough to see. Luggage = unpacking = someplace to sleep ... Bingo!

"Hey! Wait up!" he yelled, running after the pair. "Is that where our rooms are?"

Mali looked around at the crowd and asked the question probably on most people's minds. "Shall we start heading inside then? I think it would be a good idea."

As Marvel reappeared, there was an image in his mind--sort of an after-affect of an illusion he had been using when he was so rudely brought back after he had been so rudely sent off to a place that, as far as he could tell, had no hint of a relationship to what anyone around the school was talking about.

The image looked a lot like the guy who had been teaching Jackie, but it had a few minor changes. All of the changes were in black, as if someone had taken something that gives new meaning to the term "magic marker" and used it on the image. Its front teeth were blackened, and it had a long, sharp mustache and goatee. Also, it was wearing thick glasses and a dunce cap.

From this, one could infer that Marvel and Jackie had rather struck up a friendship in the brief time that they were together.

Aw, mom! I was just starting to have some fun!

~Bump~

Marvel looked at Mali.

"Lead on," he said, gesturing with his hand and smiling.

Aw, mom! I was just starting to have some fun!

J'age couldn't help herself, but managed to swallow the chuckle without choking. He definitely was a loki focus, and apparently irrepressable.

She didn't follow the others but stopped a few feet away from Galvanor. She still wasn't sure why she'd felt the summons. And she had been Death only a short time, and was none too sure of how much - indeed if any of her abilities could be - transmitted to others, much less 'taught'.

Though if any one needed training in modern combat she was an expert shot with most firearms. However she doubted any here had any need to learn such.

Zena snorted at the 'mom' comment and she and Mali stood up. "I'd love to." said Mali, honoring Marvel's request. The pair started walking toward the door, Zena's backpack doing cartwheels in mid-air for the pure fun of it.

Eldrad motioned to all the students, "If you would kindly follow me, I will show you were you may reside whilst you stay at the White Tower."

He led the group into the high-vaulted entrance hall, before moving off up the sweeping staircase towards the stream of energy that flowed between the two huge stones, one set into the floor and the other set into the very top of the tower, so high up that it was difficult to believe such a thing existed, "This operates by thought. You simply step into the field, and think which floor you wish to go to. In this case, we are going to the fifth floor, the location of the main residences for students. It is an odd sensation, but one you will quickly become used to... however, should you wish to forego such methods for the time being, feel free to use the stairs. I will advise, however, that you use this... it's much faster, and less exhausting in the long term."

Saying this, he stepped back into the beam, and rose slowly away from the group, smiling at them as he did so.

As Eldrad stepped onto the massive octagonal piece of amber containing the writhing sigil of radiance, amber light caressed him and wrapped around him, gently lifting him upward. It appeared as if the amber light had solidified and very hard to look through. The scoundrels among the group would notice it made it impossible to see up any clothing, making it safe for modest people to use. As other students would in turn step into the light, it would feel as if they were being held safely in the arms of some being they completely trusted. Galvenor brought up the rear making sure nobody wandered away from the rest of the group.

“The lowest level, the one we entered has a large ballroom and mounted in the ceiling is that Sigil below.” Galvenor began, “At the top is a Glassteel dome with the corresponding piece mounted in the top pane. As long as you are in-between those two pieces of amber, you will not fall. Eldrad was correct in you control the effect with your mind and this is universal enough you do not even need to receive training to use it. You only have to think and express your will and the chamber will deliver you to your floor. You can even go all the way up to the dome, there is a marvelous study area up there and the view is breathtaking.”

As each student was shown his or her room, Galvenor muttered a brief incantation. “There, your doors have been attuned to your aura and can only be opened by you or an instructor. You may leave your belongings here if you wish.” After allowing plenty of time for each student to explore their rooms and leave whatever they wished Galvenor waited to continue the tour.

Leaving the others--they were smiling; it was good--Marvel tarried a moment to settle into his new room. It quickly grew warm, to his tastes, and took on the sweet aroma of cherry blossoms in spring. Quite a spell they had going here. He'd have to learn how to cast that one.

The furnishings were sparse, as he liked it, and there was lots of room leading up to the high ceiling. Relaxing slightly, the demon spread his wings and took in the warm air as he sauntered up to the desk against the wall. There was a single chair in front of the desk, and a rather large brass bed with silken sheets off to his right.

Marvel reached into the small sack that he carried in a belt around his waist, and pulled out something that looked vaguely like a crystal ball. As he sat it on the desk, it changed shape slightly to conform to the furnishing's surface. Out of the satchel came a small, gold tierra, and, quietly, the smile faded from the demon's face. Tears welled up in his eyes as he rubbed the metal once gently against his cheek before setting it on its clear crystal base. Perhaps it was the strangest paradox about the turned demon that one so flamboyant as he would prefer to travel light, and to keep only an understated reminder of the woman he had loved, and who had died because of it. Even now, it served to remind him that some relationships are simply not meant to be.

A few other items joined the display: the tooth of an eater-demon, a feather from an Angel's wing and a ring with the signet of the Wizard Yendor. Like the headband, each one served to remind him of someone dear to his heart, and of some sacrifice that each had made to give his worthless hide some value--and that he couldn't stay in the right lane of the good and evil thing if he drove on automatic pilot. It was more like the ultimate five-step program--only it had so many steps that he'd lost count.

Reminiscence over, Marvel pulled a little kerchief with "Cryin' Towel" embroidered in it out of his little satchel, wiped the tears from his face, and, resuming his mischievous grin, put the rag away as he walked back to the door to rejoin the tour. Time to be moving on.

J'age found it interesting that Galvenor had refused every attempt to engage him in a conversation, or to question him...

Firstly the masked man, who'd been attacked by the now departed wolf, knelt before the two men at the doors enterence and spoke in a most respectable tone. " My lords, I wish to stay here till I can regain my strength and continue my exile. I will not stay long if you wish it. I will offer what ever service I can as payment. I do not brag but I used to be a very accomplished Wandsmith in my homeland. I could teach while I stay here."

Then the elderly appearing mage had approached him and asked in a soft and gravelly tone. "I say good gentlemen. I've been traveling for a nigh a week now and I could really go for some good food."

And while she hadn't spoken, she had approached and waited to be notices. But he had no mpre paid attention to her presence than he had to the others still waiting.

That had her shaking her head at his overt rudeness. She had been called, she had come and this? Not worth her time. J'age summoned the Pale Horse, and mounting, left the environs of the White Tower.

Zena and Mali explored their nearly identical rooms. Well, they were identical before they entered at least. Zena's room exploded in pink while Mali's draped itself in light violet. Zena's bag started throwing it possessions around the room as if having a fit. Spellbooks found a bookshelf, a crystal ball and ornate stand landed lightly on the desk, her bed bucked as the frame became black as night and the sheets pink as someone's blushing face, and a hope chest somehow managed to squeeze it's way out of the bag and land in at the front of the bed. The bag, now exhausted from organizing her room, seemed to wheeze as it collapsed on her bed while an armoire formed from the far corner. "Now that's more like it."
Mali's room however was filled to the brim. She sat on her bed and after a quick couple notes humming, her flute appeared. As Mali played, the bed became violet with a white frame, a much smaller bookshelf filled itself with books of magic from midair, a journal and stationary set rose from the desk, and a wardrobe rose in a corner. A mirror forced it's way up from behind the desk, and another bookshelf filled with enough novels for a small library made it's home next to the desk. Last but not least, musical instruments seemed to rain into the last corner of her room, led by an upright piano and music stand. "Feels like home." Mali said before retreating back to the hallway. Zena met her outside and they left to catch up to the group.

Nobody could be sure of what Ivan was thinking all the time he suddenly became silent and simply stood and accompanied the crowd. He have been extremely discreet for a while, almost unnoticeable among others, simply listening to everything, judging, interpreting, reasoning. There were little moments he tended to become so introspective, most of them usually preceding an important decision to be done, for he believed that by focusing his thoughts, he could analyze information better to make a better decision. Some of his suspicions have proved to be true, and indeed if Galvenor was not as holier than thou as the clergy of Perun, he was at least aloof enough to ignore most attempts to address him like if he did not care at all about what others had to say. On the other hand, the manner he spoke about the Tower, from Ivan's point of view, was clearly arrogant and prideful.

Ivan simply said "Not necessary, but thanks. I can arrange my own living space" as they demonstrated all the rooms. There was a reason for him to avoid accepting such courtesy. In his mind, a few different possibilities were being made about that place, and among them a strong one was about the possibly existence of scrying magics to maintain constant surveillance over the students and teachers, even in the privacy of their own quarters. Maybe, being so much time running away from the Cheka have shaped his manner of trusting others, and he wondered also about something very, very strange about it. Those two wizards haven't done any comment about fees, or about any price to stay there. The possibility those two were communists was as large as the possibility of his homeland accepting him back after all, and then the question that Ivan's mind pondered mostly about was only one.

´"If they don't want gold or money, what are they actually seeking to profit from doing this?"´. A few possibilities immediately popped inside the depths of his mind about it. The most notable being his fear that their goal was to use the students as test subjects for mind control magics or something even more sinister delving into the sanctity of human consciousness. And by extent, his own mind would be thus in danger. Another possibility was that they were looking to have all those poor students as indentured servants for the teaching of both, which was nothing but an euphemism for slavery. Finally, most far-fetched of all, perhaps there was some taint beneath the white facade of that place, and maybe there was more than what could be seen obviously in that place. Perhaps it was part of a greater cabal of sorts, although Ivan couldn't concluded on what point such cabal would exist for in this possibility among many.

Seeing not much else to think about, Ivan decision then finally became the main focus of his ponderings. Whether he should leave that place before something bad happened, or before the inner darkness hidden between facades and walls was revealed, or whether he should attempt to do something about it, by simply staying there for now and getting deeper into what such Tower is really about.

Then finally, his thoughts ceded way to another sign, as he took an opportune moment to talk with Eldrad, who at least seemed to be more attentive than Galvenor, although that was perhaps only something superficial and not really coherent with whatever behavior both really had regarding others less powerful than then.

"Greetings, I am Ivan Berezovsky. Before you continue to give your tour to the students, and to potential new instructors, could you have a moment to answer some questions of mine? First, where I came from, a huge, single continent we call as Pangaea, magic is usually so scarce that most don't even believe it exists, in fact, when I was younger I didn't believe either on its existence. I am not used to the idea of having it as a commonplace thing everywhere, and I hope you understand my estrangement about this new land. In fact, I would be very interesting in learning the history of this place later, and it indeed intrigues me. But could you give me at the moment a short history about this White Tower?"

There had been two who had arrived so quietly that they had been missed by all. Neither had sought to enter any of the conversations, but listend to as many as they could without making their presence known.

It wasn't hard. Khat only stood a few inches over three foot tall and Drai'lee stood an inch under a foot. And both were very, very good at being unseen when they wanted to be. And in the world of Man that was most of the time.

They waited at the tail end of the group as they entered the white tower -barely within hearing distance - or it would have been for any with less keen hearing then they both had.

"Ermm, we forgot such things as 'things'" Khat muttered to his friend.

"I'll conjure what we need later. If I'd tried to pack anything up they would have known something was up. And locked the castle down tigher than Tink's chastity belt." Dra'lee snorted sourly. She had never liked being told what to do and lately she had been even worse, driving her very illustrious mother to fits.

"Drai, you shouldn't use such language, your mother 'd have fits." Khat rebuked without any real disapproval.

"She'd have fits knowing I was here. Mother doesn't want me to learn human majick, even if I am half human. It's.." She sought the proper word "not regal, it's dangerous and 'just becasue I made a mistake doesn't mean you have to to'..." Drai'kee did a spot on accurate immitation of her mother and Khat had to stiffle a laugh, but her next words sobered him with the pain in them "And she hates the fact that I'm dragon kin on top of being half human."

Drai'lee stroked the dragonling that lived on her skin to soothe it and the eye that it had opened as it heard it being spoken about drooped closed and it slept again. The tiny Fae wore nothing but the lightest of wrappings, other would have irritated her dragon. Though tall for her race, as most Fae stood barely six inches tall, the Dragonling curled from her shoulders to down to her feet. Drai'lee was of the old blood and her mother reigned in the Lands of the Fae Folk

Khat and Drai'lee (http://www.atddm.com/tlk1.jpg)

Plyed with permission of Cats keep and Fae Folk...

Chaz leapt from Zena's shoulder upon hearing the conversation. He trotted over to the duo and began to sniff them before Zena saw them. "Chaz!" She screamed as the cat tried to pick up the half human in his mouth. Before getting too far, he backed away and lowered his tail and ears in obedience to Zena. She bent down and started to apologize. "Sorry about that. I don't think anyone knew you were here. You're alright aren't you?" She continued on in this fashion, worried to death that Chaz might have done something really bad for once.

"Chaz!"

Khat lept a foot straight up all his silvery grey fur a ruffle at the cry, as the feline tried to pick up Drai'lle.

But the Fae already had one arm free and petting the cat which hadn't really attempted to bite her. Chaz had been being careful after all, or so it seemed.

"Sorry about that. I don't think anyone knew you were here. You're alright aren't you?"

Khats whislers drooped in embarrasement for not watching out for such more closely. "Sorry...I...I didn't even see your cat. But" He looked over at his unharmed - but slightly dampish -friend who winked at him. She could have taken care of the cat easily. While she might not know 'human' majick, she was very well versed in that native to the Fae. But cats liked her and she liked them. She often mourned not having one as a companion.

"Oh I'm fine" the tiny Fae replied. Drai'lee gave Chaz another pet, hopeing to perk it back up before she fluttered up and landed on Khat's shoulder. She may have stood nearly a foot tall, but she only weighed what she wanted too - and Khat was a lot stronger than he looked. "You have a very sweet kitty"

Zena chuckled. "I'm surprised you're not knee deep in his fur right now, as thick as it is. And he really is sweet when he listens." Chaz started purring at being petted and began to rub Drai'lle's leg (all he could reach with her sitting on Khat), probably with enough force to knock them over if he wasn't careful. "I think he likes you." Zena said.

"Well," the turned demon said, walking up, still wearing his meet-and-greet smile, "Fairy Folk. I was wondering when some of your kind would show up. Place was kinda dreary without you, to be honest. Name's Marvel--though you probably already heard me. This must be Chaz," he reached down and allowed Chaz to sniff his fingers before gently stroking the creature's chin, "and you must be Zena. What are your names?" He looked down, still with a friendly smile, at the Fae.

Chaz enjoyed the quick pet but then ran and jumped into Mali's arms. Zena raised an eyebrow at Marvel though. "We've been chatting outside and you're still asking my name? And I thought Joshua was a name dropper."

Nobody could be sure of what Ivan was thinking all the time he suddenly became silent and simply stood and accompanied the crowd. He have been extremely discreet for a while, almost unnoticeable among others, simply listening to everything, judging, interpreting, reasoning. There were little moments he tended to become so introspective, most of them usually preceding an important decision to be done, for he believed that by focusing his thoughts, he could analyze information better to make a better decision. Some of his suspicions have proved to be true, and indeed if Galvenor was not as holier than thou as the clergy of Perun, he was at least aloof enough to ignore most attempts to address him like if he did not care at all about what others had to say. On the other hand, the manner he spoke about the Tower, from Ivan's point of view, was clearly arrogant and prideful.

Ivan simply said "Not necessary, but thanks. I can arrange my own living space" as they demonstrated all the rooms. There was a reason for him to avoid accepting such courtesy. In his mind, a few different possibilities were being made about that place, and among them a strong one was about the possibly existence of scrying magics to maintain constant surveillance over the students and teachers, even in the privacy of their own quarters. Maybe, being so much time running away from the Cheka have shaped his manner of trusting others, and he wondered also about something very, very strange about it. Those two wizards haven't done any comment about fees, or about any price to stay there. The possibility those two were communists was as large as the possibility of his homeland accepting him back after all, and then the question that Ivan's mind pondered mostly about was only one.

´"If they don't want gold or money, what are they actually seeking to profit from doing this?"´. A few possibilities immediately popped inside the depths of his mind about it. The most notable being his fear that their goal was to use the students as test subjects for mind control magics or something even more sinister delving into the sanctity of human consciousness. And by extent, his own mind would be thus in danger. Another possibility was that they were looking to have all those poor students as indentured servants for the teaching of both, which was nothing but an euphemism for slavery. Finally, most far-fetched of all, perhaps there was some taint beneath the white facade of that place, and maybe there was more than what could be seen obviously in that place. Perhaps it was part of a greater cabal of sorts, although Ivan couldn't concluded on what point such cabal would exist for in this possibility among many.

Seeing not much else to think about, Ivan decision then finally became the main focus of his ponderings. Whether he should leave that place before something bad happened, or before the inner darkness hidden between facades and walls was revealed, or whether he should attempt to do something about it, by simply staying there for now and getting deeper into what such Tower is really about.

Then finally, his thoughts ceded way to another sign, as he took an opportune moment to talk with Eldrad, who at least seemed to be more attentive than Galvenor, although that was perhaps only something superficial and not really coherent with whatever behavior both really had regarding others less powerful than then.

"Greetings, I am Ivan Berezovsky. Before you continue to give your tour to the students, and to potential new instructors, could you have a moment to answer some questions of mine? First, where I came from, a huge, single continent we call as Pangaea, magic is usually so scarce that most don't even believe it exists, in fact, when I was younger I didn't believe either on its existence. I am not used to the idea of having it as a commonplace thing everywhere, and I hope you understand my estrangement about this new land. In fact, I would be very interesting in learning the history of this place later, and it indeed intrigues me. But could you give me at the moment a short history about this White Tower?"

Eldrad smiled, inclining his head slightly to the man who spoke to him,"Greetings Ivan, and to answer your first question, yes, I do have the time to answer you questions." He smile a slight smile at this, but it was obviously true. One had only to look into his eyes to see that.

He listened thoughtfully, and took a moment before replying,"I understand the dilemma you face... you come from a place where magick is thought to be nothing more than illusion and myth, yet here it is stark fact. This is not altogether uncommon, and not something that should estrange you from the others here... I find it highly unlikely you are alone in this problem. As for the history of the White Tower... it is long, but I am certain I can condense the details briefly for you."

"In esscense, the Tower was formed as a school. Nothing more, nothing less. It was made so that those who either did not understand what it was that they possessed, or to further their own knowledge of others views on magick... it was not, whatever some may think, a place where those who come are forced to remain, or are forced to serve, or are indeed coerced in anyway... aside from my friends attention grabbing earlier... for that I apologise. It is not, however, my place to question him. He is the Chancellor by appointment, not by killing someone for it. He has, in fact, been here since the very beginning... the very earliest days of the Tower were dominated by four nations: Balrogga, Snake Eaters, Kaymirilian mages and representatives from Warhaven. Of these four, only representatives from two now remain... the Kaymirilians have retreated from the Tower for the time being... this saddens me, as I was very close to some of the mages there. As for Warhaven... they are little spoken of now, but there was a falling out sometime ago between the other three and Warhaven, one that resulted in Warhaven eventually departing. The Tower served to unite those who shared a common understanding, a common wish to use their power for good... but of course, over time, it stagnated. People no longer used the shining tower for its purpose... I confess that I also abadoned the Tower at this time... but not through lack of devotion, but rather too much devotion - to my race, to my people... they needed me, the hour was desperate, and thus I was left with no choice. When I returned to the location, the Tower was gone. However, and without meaning to sound arrogant, I am skilled enough to be able to track such a movement, for one cannot move an object of such mass without leaving some lasting imprint upon the Warp. Thus, I returned, to find the Tower once more populated by potential students."

He paused a moment, and looked at Ivan, "It strikes me that there are other things worrying you? Worries concerning our motives here... or how we conduct ourselves? If indeed I am correct, and if I do say so myself, I am rarely wrong, then please voice them. It is better to voice concerns and have them addressed in an open forum, rather than let them fester at the back of your mind, where they will gradually and by no fault of your own, subsume your reason and threaten your sanity. Believe me when I say, it has defeated far greater beings than you and I... gods have fallen prey to it... mortals such as us are but children to them.

What are your names?"

Drai'lee shied back just a littel when the demon addressed them. The Fae and demonkind were often mortal enemies. But she had never yet let anything or any one know that it had frightened her and so she spoke up boldly.

"I am Drai'lee and this is Khat." She stood on Khats shoulder for a second then launced herself to hover at head height for the humans so they could see her easily. She did this to cover for Khat who could be very shy of humans.

Her draconic looking wings flittered in a highspeed manner - sparkling in hues of liquid gold and cinnamon, amber, copper and bronze. From them every so often fell tiny sparkles of fae dust, the very stuff of majic for some.

Marvel looked at Mali. "Nope," he said. "Never told me. Must've been the crowd." Which one is Joshua again?

Then, he turned his gaze to the lovely little creature buzzing in front of him.

"You're quite the little cutie, Drai'lee" he said, getting a closer look at the little Fae. "I bet that you've got that Power Over Boy Fae thing going real good!"

He cast an appeasing glance back at Drai'lee, just to let her know that he wasn't ignoring her, and that he meant no harm. She seemed a little nervous, and he hoped that, by buttering her up a little, he could calm her down.

Mali sighed shrugged. "It could be. Things were really busy out there."

Ivan pondered about the apparent honesty of Eldrad to address him. Either the elf was really honest, or a very skilled fast-talker and liar. Maybe it was the fact he came from a world where people did not tend to help others or give information expecting nothing in return, but he was still hiding some worries about that place, and the manner he asked him seemed deeply suspicious. Perhaps it was the fact he wanted to know if he would be a threat to their agenda in the white tower, and thus they would have to either banish him from there or worse, get rid of him permanently.

He wouldn't give the details of the strange idea forming up in his mind. The guess seemed to much of a coincidence, and maybe Eldrad was attempting to read his mind, to later control it. Using his mental discipline he began to have his thoughts with less emphasis and deeper into his consciousness, camouflaging them by several casual superficial thoughts regarding his home land. Ivan did not take too much time to sketch an answer, and spoke, hoping he would not suspect there was more:

"Eldrad, my only concern is about my usefulness in this place. I never studied magic in my life, it always came to me naturally, and I doubt it's possible to teach or pass to others skills I was born with. I doubt our manners of using magic are equal, and I fear that maybe I don't have much to contribute here, and perhaps my travel has been useless. My only knowledge is far away from magics, for I am experience in the art of war. I will be open about it, as for a man like me, there are not many opportunities around in the Theocracy of Perun. The only manner to make a living I saw was to open a mercenary company to help with their war effort against their close enemies of Novaya Russia. Yes, I am a mercenary and military strategist first, and a mage second. I doubt this place needs the experiences and knowledges I have. I'm not sure, but perhaps I could teach it to someone who came from the same world I live in, and if this one also was born with the gift, or perhaps curse. Suffice to say, where I lived initially in Pangaea, they shot mages and witches on sight, or worse."

"I bet that you've got that Power Over Boy Fae thing going real good!"

That made her giggle "I wish. They're mostly too afraid of m dragon to try and get close to me. Tink's panties they all think that Rashamon is going to eat them. He's not going to be big enough to toast them for several hunded more years... though like all dragons he has a perfdect memory" She grinned evilly. Some times she did so love having a dragon to call. But despite her bluster she was too kind hearted to ever sic him on some one. Though that might change some day - and Rashamon would always protect her.

Khat knew it though and just grinned.

They would make sure they got the top most rooms, safety and privacy.

"Ohhh, that's a dragon," Marvel replied, turning back to the tiny Fae. When he looked closely at the tiny reptile, his face lit up as if he was looking at a small child. "I've never seen one that small before. Such a cute baby! Do you think that I could pet it?"

Zena too noticed the small dragon but Mali commented. "I wouldn't if I were you. He may be small and young, but they can still be feisty if you're not careful." Just past where Mali was looking, she noticed a small rune begin to glow on the wall. "Zena, is that what I think it is?"
As the girls walked over, more of the runes appeared, but not in any pattern that they could discern. "Wait Mali, it's one of Josh's messages." Her eyes again glowing, the runes rearranged themselves in mid air in front of them before they finally got into the right order. "Got it!" Zena held out her hand, expecting a message while Mali intended to tap the other side to make sure it would come out. This wasn't to be however. The runes began to spin and more filled in gaps that appeared as they moved outward.
By this time, the hallway was aglow with their light and a nearly formless figure appeared. Within seconds, it was discernible that the shape was a young adult. Without warning, the rings vanished and the figure inside landed lightly on his feet, white hair and cloak swishing about.
"Now this certainly is a very interesting place you've got here Gavlenor. I leave you alone for this short of a time and look what you get going."

OOC: I'm going off the fact that Joshua and Galvenor were at the Wizard's Council together.

Such a cute baby! Do you think that I could pet it?"

Rashamon acted before Drai'll could reply. He lifted off of her body, the tattoo that was him became him - only about five times larger than. That made him rougholy fice foot of sinuous dragon floating in mid air, his scales now a gleaming gold edged with firey crimson.

In a blink of an eye he was wreathing about Marvel, his nostrils working like a cats as he sniffed the demon over thoroughly

"Rash!" Drai'lee scolded as she landed on his back, sitting just behind his forelegs.

Rahsamon whipped his head about and snorted at her. The gust of his breath sent her tumbling backwards, head over heels several time before she could right herself.

She was laughing though when she finally go herself fight side up.

Marvel could only smile. He'd been exposed to dragons--but far larger than this one and in much poorer spirits--the Cavalry sometimes used them as mounts--when he was in the Underworld Infantry. Though he had never kept one as a pet, he knew a little bit about them.

What most people don't know is that dragons have a brain arrangement that is unique among reptiles. While most reptilians have only a Lower Brain, dragons have a secondary system located below the Lower Brain, deep in their skulls. It acts as a combination mid-brain and Limbic System, growing as the creature ages, until it enables the dragon to function as a full sentient, usually when it gets to be somewhere between two and three hundred years old.

This one, though obviously much younger, was also obviously much better behaved. Marvel could recognize the show of affection, the "getting to know a friend." If he had not been viewed as a friend, the dragon would have tried to char broil him before it even moved in.

Marvel felt honored. He smiled.

He reached out and found the soft spot just behind Rash's left ear. These spots, just behind the ears, are the only places a dragon can't scratch when it itches.

"Don't worry," he said to the Fae, "I take good care of other people's babies." The dragon turned its head to look at him. "Yes I do," he said, giving the ear another gentle rub, to which the creature responded by closing its golden eyes in ecstasy.

(Quick OOC: Jump to the paragraph break if you're not interested in what happened to this character before she ended in the White Tower)

The sun was already setting behind the infinite rows and lines of the taiga forests, with only the upper half of it being visible in the horizon. A orange hue was visible in the way sunlight bathed the land, typical of the close moment to the evening. A beaten path lied between the woods, where five figures in white coats with a few patches of olive marched through the soft patches of snow announcing another winter about to come. In the lead of the group, a feminine figure, with hands forward, holding the shadow of a object, fingers under black gloves close to the trigger, green eyes lined to sights of cold iron. Rifles marched together with the figure, as several men followed in a staggered line and tracked for signs of a nearby presence, guided by her.

Yelena knew the next step. She would never allow magic to destroy her utopian motherland, after all it did to harm her. Despite have never again allowed her curse to overcome her rationalism for months, Yelena's curse allowed her to sense nearby magical presences and locate the direction of their sources. While her comrades use their mundane skills to find tracks, she quickly oriented herself towards a strange sensation of electrical shock. Suddenly, her senses became overwhelmed as the sensation also combined a chilling cold, a hot sweat and the smell of death. She visibly frowned, as comrade Bakhtin, a black-haired man on his late twenties, asked her:

"Comrade Praskovya! Is anything wrong?"

"Nothing comrade, I just fear we have found more than only one this time. I would guess there are at least four. We should be very careful. Comrades, walk slowly and try to cross the trees one by one. Stay away from clearings and places where you can be spotted. If you spot anything, gesture like this to me once for each one you spot, and point their overall direction, then wait for my command to shoot. Do you see that small mound. Let's sneak over there and make some minor entrenchments. Svechenko, I will trust you to survey the area and give a more precise location of our enemies. Yevgeni, have a rolling bomb ready, I believe this time we are going to need it. Now follow me"

Taking light steps through the dried grass and flakes of snow, Yelena boots soon became filled, and even their thick leather and rubber couldn't block the feeling of frostbite. Her fingers almost seemed paralyzed, and she was indeed tired by a long walk. Nevertheless she kept with the pace of the three man walking with her, and taking another route, the scout of the group was discreetly making his way through a nearby slope, from where he would probably be able to recognize everything up to three hundred meters away from that place. The sensations from the magical presences were growing stronger into Yelena, as they were just a few steps to the downward slope of the small, six meters tall mound. The soldiers caught some shovels and began to dig some small foxholes. Yelena tried to help, but she lacked the strength to keep with them, although she also took a shovel to help the best she could. It was contrasting, the magic presences felt by her, and the sweat, cold, coming from her brows as she struggled to dig the solid soil of the mound. It didn't take much for Svechenko to signal her and pointed to the overall directions of the enemies they didn't dare to visually spot yet. For some funny reason they were never spotted during the twenty minutes they took digging and surveying the area. Svechenko made other gestures as well, but Yelena wasn't sure on what it meant. She could feel her feet sinking between mud and snow as she got down in the foxhole, and despite the cold, she crawled further to the point where she could visually spot the enemies.

To their surprise, none of them seemed aware of their presence, and all of the four mages were sat around a table, next to a wooden shack. Yelena wondered whether the fact she had always magic with her, no matter how repressed it was, allowed them to sense her as well as she sensed them. She whispered to her comrades: "It looks too suspiciously like a trap. Hold your fire for now, I'll investigate it. Don't follow me.

"But Comrade Yelena, they'll kill you!"

"No, they won't, they are only misguided beyond hope, not ruthless murderers, now stay here."

The revolving chamber locked into place, with her finger still near its grip, as Yelena walked calmly towards the shack, and for her surprise, and confirming her suspicions, the "mages" didn't react at all, as all of those four were merely decoys someone cleverly put to help him to mislead them, as soon as she recognized them as mere decoys, they simply vanished from the tables, for the surprise of her comrades. As the wooden door was next to her, she knocked it. No answer came, but it seemed to be unlocked.

The shack was quite modest. Only a small quantity of old, moldy wooden furnitures and a single, empty bed were visible. Yelena surveyed the place detailedly, but found no signs of anyone hiding around. Sighing, she assumed that whoever was there was only a single wizard who cleverly created the illusions to keep them busy for enough time for him to escape through the southwest. However, Yelena was all the time feeling a singular, very strong magical presence, but she couldn't be sure of where exactly. Most of personal belongings were just laid on the ground of the shack, and a simple oven was to the west, with a bunch of teacups lined nearby. Yelena closed her eyes and concentrated. Soon it became very clear as a strong sensation, almost as if a lightning struck her, came from a very strange direction, from the direction of that old stone oven.

She walked through there, and payed more attention to the sensation of sparks, soon she looked at the oven, but it did not seem to be emanating from it, neither from the floor around it. The last things nearby were the teacups. Shrugging, Yelena muttered.

"Now this is something I am not used to see. Nice trick, but you should try better"

With a quick swing of her arm, she knocked a teacup into the ground, shattering it. Immediately an elderly figure popped from the place where the teacup fell, and looked at Yelena with strangely no fear or hatred. The grey-haired, beardless and half bald man wearing a simple trenchcoat. On his shoulder a crow, almost like an statue, stood, with arcs of electricity coming from its body.

"Isn't it ironic that if it were not for magic, your magic, you would never have found me? Now, would you kill an old man just because he can light his oven with sparks to make his life easier? Look at me, not so young lady, I am defenseless, I just wanted to live in peace and serenity, I never bothered anyone. I'm no Yagan thug or Perunian theocratic hypocrite, I am just someone who like you, was born with something I never asked for, and with no choice other than to embrace it."

Pointing her revolver to the old man, Yelena shouted, clearly angered by his words: "No! You could have taken my choice instead. If at least I did it earlier, I would not have lost so much because of this cursed magic. The same magic that lights your oven has cost me an arm and uncountable suffering and pain. I am sorry, but your presence alone helps it to spread. Do you remember the massacre of Minsk? If magic did not exist, those one hundred thousands would be alive today. It is too dangerous to be in human hands. It corrupts people, and it almost corrupted me once. I am really sorry, but there is no other way.", she said as her finger slid closer to the trigger, with the revolver pointing straight to the head of the man.

"It is unfortunate you can't see beyond fear and prejudice, Yelena of Triglav. Perhaps once you will learn from your mistakes."

"The only mistake I ever done was to embrace this curse! And my name is Yelena Praskovya! I will not tolerate those who threaten the dignity of people by promoting the growth of the counter-revolutionary magic! Be it intentional or not!", she shouted angrily, and in a pop, soon the old man fell into the ground, with some blood coming from his now dead corpse, and weary eyes, still open, and staring at her direction. Strangely, the crow have disappeared, while something else happened at the moment. She let her revolver fall, and knelt near the dead man. A few tears came from her eyes as she realized what she have done. This one was not like the other, violent and ruthless mages she met before. She has killed an innocent, decent man, only because he was, like her, born with the curse of magic. One of her soldiers curiously went down the mound to the shack, and asked her if everything was fine. Forcing her emotions down, Yelena stood up, caught her revolver again and said, in a less enthusiastic manner than usual:

"One less among the enemies of the people. Our mission is done for now. Let's head back to home"

They all walked through the forests with no problems. The evening was already coming. Then Yelena felt a strange sensation, which distracted her from the sadness she was disguising. She couldn't understand it, but she feared it was again her magic going rogue. She focused herself to contain it, but soon the crow spawned right at her shoulder, and she vanished from the front of her comrades. One of them then immediately shouted:

"Traitor! She broke the promise! I knew we shouldn't trust witches! Where is she?"

Trembling of fear, and making no noise as she involuntarily teleported right behind them, Yelena cowered and hoped they would not look behind. Then a strange voice whispered to her in a mockingly manner: "I hope my impression about your intelligence is wrong, because other than for retarded people, I never saw anyone helping those who wanted this one dead before". Yelena became red as she saw the crow landing on her shoulder, but she couldn't do anything. It was because of the damn creature her magic went wild again. It seems it was with her now. And to add to the insult, it was mocking her intelligence and calling her a retard.

Then one of the soldiers looked behind. Quickly he shouted as he maneuvered his rifle towards her. With a quick pull, a loud bang came as a shot came out from the gun. However, she wasn't there anymore.

"Damn, she escaped again!"

They made their way back, at least she killed one of their enemies before defecting again, they thought. It was unlikely Yelena would be given a third chance, should she ever come back to Soviet Steam again

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It seemed almost to burn her inside, such was the intensity of the magical presence she immediately sensed following the strange event. The damn crow still was over her shoulder, but her confusion was too large to give her an opportunity to give a lesson to the creature. A biting pain came to her left arm, or what remained of it. She tried useless to move the prosthesis, but it apparently failed, and wasn't working anymore as now her left "arm" was nothing but a limping mannequin arm hanging from her shoulders, where it was surgically linked with. Furthermore, her pistol broke in two pieces, beyond repair, her compass crashed and her electric rod, something she kept for a long time, short-circuited. It seems that magic was so strong where she arrived that anything more complex than a pendulum wouldn't work due to the quantity of manipulations over natural law happening simultaneously and disrupting all sorts of technological devices.

It was a sort of large hallway, where a quite peculiar crowd was reunited. There were some spiral staircases surrounding it, and in the middle of it a sort of magical contraption which seemed to be a transport of sorts. Yelena looked curiously at the crowd, noticing first Galvenor, apparently a powerful mage and Eldrad, another of those weird people who got their ears stretched into the printing press, the all-fancy man near Galvenor and eventually everyone who was there, with a bit of uncertainty on what to say, even as she wasn't sure they would know her language, and she never learned to speak anything else than it. For them, she simply spawned there with no flashes of light or typical indicators of magic. It seemed very discrete indeed. Although the visage of someone wearing a snow, mud soaked sort of winter military uniform with a few stains of blood wouldn't be discrete. Nor all the broken gadgets that she tossed on the ground angrily in frustration. She attempted to overcome it by checking the people around, who would probably be looking at her, and at the crow letting small sparks come from its body at her shoulder. A black-haired lady in black clothings was with apparently her cat talking with a peculiar lady of very short height which was accompanied by a two-legged cat, definitively not human from the looks, and apparently a tiny dragon, which was not something she expected to ever find. Also finally there was a brown-haired girl on her late teens who was visibly dressing some odd stuff. Not as odd as an arctic camouflaged trenchcoat and snow-filled black boots and gloves, coupled with a dirty entrenching shovel at Yelena's back, but nonetheless odd.

However there was a quite familiar figure among the strange crowd. Yelena was clearly trying to distract from her nerves. The thing she has acquired a recent hatred for was everywhere. She could smell it, feel it, touch it. That wasn't a mere place of magic, it was a magic turned into a place. At least there were no spiders or dark corners to be afraid of, but she was visibly shaken by the surprise and shock of being in such unknown place. With her left arm visibly limping, she walked towards Marvel, and looked at the demon as the crow said, in common language, which she wasn't fluent with:

"Hey red and horny! Did you fall into a barbecue grill and they forgot to finish roasting you?"

The annoying crow was interrupted as Yelena said, approaching Marvel, while peeking sometimes at the tiny lady and at the dragon, with a visible expression of fear and uneasiness:

"Marvel, Khorosho videt' vas snova. Ja ne ljublju ehto mesto."

Students' rooms are students' rooms. This one was just another in the chain of temporary homes Ruari had inhabited since Granny Dhurigh reappeared.

For once, the thought of her didn't make him wince with guilt. Rising past the floors as the amber-light contraption carried him up, Ruari had suddenly remembered Granny's sing-song as she piggy-backed him to bed when he was very small: How many miles to Babylon? Three score and ten. Can I get there by candle-light? Yes, and back again ... The warm feeling was still with him, and he was eager to go back to the transporter thingy and see if it happened again.

He tossed his back-pack onto the end of the bed. Well, maybe he'd just unpack his chess-set to make the place look homey. Or perhaps he'd do that later, he didn't want to miss out on anything. Although that Chancellor guy had said you didn't have to rush ...

Vaccilating, Ruari reached out to fiddle with the straps on the backpack -- and had the decision taken away from him. For the damnable ring caught his eye. It was glowing. It'd never done that before. And, now he noticed, it felt a bit hot. He tugged at the thing, knowing it was pointless. Since the shock it had given him and Mierin, he hadn't been able to take it off at all.

But there were so many high-powered magic types around here. It had been bad enough when Mierin had touched it, and she wasn't a wizardly heavy, just a really nice girl vampire. So if one of these super-mages noticed the ring glowing, and wanted to have a closer look ... the boy gulped. These guys didn't look like the sort who'd appreciate being blown up.

If only I'd got a glove, he told himself. It wouldn't have looked at all suss, there were always dudes in stories who only wore one glove. But no-o, not me.

At least he could turn it around so the stone was hidden. Maybe the glow in the stone was just some sort of trickle from the lifting gadget.

Well, he could stay out of the light-elevator and use the stairs, then see if the ring got back to normal. But that was going to make this tour of the tower difficult.

Grumbling, Ruari trudged back to the meeting-place, hoping he could find an unobtrusive spot near a staircase. He'd start running as soon as it became clear whether the next stage of the tour was going up or down.

"Hey, red and horny! Did you fall into a barbecue grill and they forgot to finish roasting you?"

Marvel was roused from his session. The dragon opened its eyes. It was not happy--and, fortunately, it knew whom to blame.

"That would make you the finished product," he said with an obnoxious smile. A wise man has said: never swap barbs with a demon. Birdbrain obviously hadn't heard that one. The crow looked like it was going to say something else. "No?" the demon said, not waiting for the retort, "Just keep on talkin' an' my friend here will solve the problem." The meter-and-a-half-long dragon opened its mouth and let out a little puff of smoke. Marvel stroked its ear again. "Goooood boy." Looked like--for the moment anyway--ol' Dragon Breath wasn't going to be doing something Rash.

Marvel, it's good to see you again. I don't exactly relish the surroundings, though.

Marvel looked. It took him a moment, but he recognized the woman who was speaking. She was one of the first people he'd seen after he escaped from the underworld. At the time, he had a slight infatuation for her--one that had faded since she left him for her own world. He had been in her mind once--and that was how he had become able to understand the manner of her speech. It was strange, though--she was the only one who spoke that language whom Marvel could understand. The demon had long since given up on trying to understand why.

"Y-yelena?" he said. "Wow! It's been over fifty years! I'm surprised you even knew who I was! What's a patriotic, proletarian magic-hater like you doing in a school of magic like this?"

He had stopped petting the dragon again. He was reminded of this because a rather scaly tail wrapped itself around his leg.

He looked back down in the dragon, which immediately turned its head to expose the patch behind its ear again. "Chores, chores," he said. He did as the little beast wanted. A wise man has said: never argue with a dragon.

-----------------------------

OOC:

Time can flow at different rates. Thus, fifty years for Marvel may only be ten or twenty for Yellena.

Yelena seemed to be as frustrated and nervous as someone trying to run on a rug someone was pulling to the opposite direction of the run. She seemed to smile a bit on the comment given to the annoying crow as at least it became silent for a while, except for the electrical sparks coming from it, but if there was something obvious about was how she wasn't very fond of that place. In her language, she soon replied to Marvel, omitting the fact she killed an old man who was the previous owner of the crow just because he was a mage:

"This damn crow! It has unleashed the curse again! I promised to never again use a single bit of magic but this damnable, annoying thing has let me lose control and I displaced to the behind of my former comrades. They weren't happy with that and I had to randomly get out of there again! Now my new left arm has failed because of the strong magic of this place, my first invention I took months to develop has became a crispy rod and all my belongings which are scientifically more complex than a hourglass have jammed, broken, crippled beyond repair and alike! The only thing that I still have is this bad omen of a bird and a mud-soaked shovel! What will I do? I don't want to have magic to tear apart my still remaining right arm, make me feel like suffering from death without dying, but I can't come back there again, they'll kill me! All because of this damn crow!", she said loudly in what to others seemed to be ranting in an unknown language, and then she took the broken revolver, quickly pointed it towards the bird and clicked, forgetting the fact it no longer worked. The bird flew away and towards the top of the tower in fear, as Yelena dropped on her knees and began to cry, as discrete as possible, speaking, almost in whispers, in her language.

"I never wanted to be born with this... this curse... I never wanted that unexplainable thing that warped my people out of Russia to happen. I am tired of living with fear and having to run away. I love my motherland, but they can't accept me there again. They will never welcome me again after this. I will never again seem my mother and father. Why? What have I done of wrong to deserve this?"

Pressing a point near her left forearm strongly, Yelena began to struggle and wince as she attempted to remove the prosthesis which was painfully pushing her flesh of what remained from her left arm with its weight as it no longer worked. Sighing, she gave up and sighed as she got up again, and looked at Marvel with visible frustration growing up, as she allowed the left arm to limp as if lifelessly hanging to her body:

"I think I was born with innate bad luck. The doctor said that if it was implanted, it would not need batteries, I never expected to end in a place where it wouldn't work. Now it is pushing the stump of my former bones, and it hurts, but I can't feel it anymore. I am nothing but a cripple who doesn't want to admit the fact I'm no longer useful for anything. They offered me retirement, but I refused. I just asked for a new arm, but now my new arm is gone too... and because of what? Because of magic! The same thing which destroyed the arm I was born with has also destroyed this new arm. Marvel, can you ask someone to teleport me to Novaya Russia? They are capitalists, but as I have no better choice to have a normal life. Maybe I could make some shows, work in a circus as a real magician. Not that I would like it, but I don't see many options now."

Marvel shook his head with a wry grin. Sated for the moment, Dragon Breath sauntered off. "Never could take advantage of what you were given," he said. "Always had to call it a curse." He reached down and touched the false arm, then laughed. "You know," he said, "the interface between this thing and your Central Nervous System is a spell," he said with a soft laugh. "It only stands to reason. Your people haven't developed the kind of technology that would allow them to interface machines with living things. The reason it won't work is because the telepaths around here are confusing it. It can't tell the difference between their minds and your mind, so it just shuts down. So I'll make a deal with you. If you don't try to kill us, like your people do with mages, I'll put a mind-inhibiting spell on the shell of the arm. My magic is a little stronger than it used to be. Should perk the thing right up. Then, we can talk, and I can call your bluff on this 'curse' of yours and you can get all upset and storm off.

"We COULD make it a little easier," he continued, transmorgifying into jest mode, "and decide what names we're going to call each other NOW. I've got dibs on 'old hag.'"

He should have introduced her to everybody, and fired up a translation spell--if it would take for him--but she seemed a little too worn down for that. She also didn't seem to notice that it wasn't all random magic that she was contending with. There were specific defensive spells in the White Tower that neutralized firearms. NO gun would fire in that place. Maybe, if she behaved, he'd let her know. For now, though, he was just going to offer to help and crack a few jokes to see if he could improve her mood.

Joshua chuckled. "Having problems? Don't worry, that happens around me every so often too." he pulled off his right glove and revealed a mechanical hand. "Trust me, there's more than just the hand, but I can help." He walked over and gently took where the limb met the rest of her. "This won't hurt, but it won't be pleasant either." His magic went to work, creating impressions in the inside of the shell of runes that block out magics that would interfere with the arm, though the sensation of magical nerves creating themselves wasn't fun it allowed her to use the arm none the less. "Can you move it now?" He asked while hoping his translation spell didn't wear off so she would understand what he said, no matter the language.

(OOC: Sorry, but I prefer to have things less easy than that)

Looking at what Marvel spoke and getting up, while he was obviously hoping to correct the arm prosthesis through, ironically magic, Yelena seemed even more frustrated than before as she replied, in her own language:

"Impossible! This was developed using the latest advances of expanded phrenology. It links directly with the region of the mind responsible for movement through electricity, it use my electricity to be powered. It is an entirely scientific work. There is no pint of magic on i... Argh! I didn't... Argh... ask for help!"

She screamed loudly as the magic of Joshua began to affect her, it was not very pleasant, the sensation something was growing inside her body and pushing flesh, rubber, plastics and gears together. Pressing her left "arm" with her right hand, Yelena winced in pain for a while, then suddenly she looked at both Marvel and Joshua, with clearly angered eyes, and frowned. The arm seemed as limp and lifeless as before, still hanging on her shoulders, as apparently all those efforts have been futile.

"Why do you insist on making mistaken assumptions on my people and their knowledge? It has been severely damaged, not just disabled! Did you not listen to me before poorly roasted goulash with bull horns? It is damaged, and repairing it with magic makes as much sense as stopping a fire with kerosene! Specially at this level of damage it has taken like most of my belongings, which is, if you didn't notice yet, beyond repair! Do you know anyone here knows basic medicine and maybe enough for a surgery? I want it removed because it is hurting."

Suddenly Ivan became too interested at this new arrival to wait for Eldrad's answer on his questions, and the way she ranted has indeed called his attention. Someone from his land, a poor and over-stressed lady who refused to recognize the fact she was attuned with magic. He walked towards her, and when he was right at her back, he touched her shoulder and said, in Russian:

"I think I can perform the surgery you requested, and maybe regrow your entire arm. But do not get your hopes up. For that is a regeneration of a level I never tried before, it might not work, or something else might grow up rather than a new arm. I will only do it if you want."

Looking behind, Yelena looked at the apparently decrepit old man, and quickly replied: "It will grow up something else rather than a new arm, just remove this broken arm...", when suddenly she recognized the figure, it was in a poster, wanted for real treason as someone who gave privileged information about her nation to the Theocracy of Perun, and who helped in their military operations, in exchange of money and prestige. Immediately she said in a very nervous way, in their language: "No! I know who you are, you are Ivan, the traitor who sided with the corrupt of Perun in exchange of money! Get out of my face mercenary capitalist pig! Are you looking for someone to cheat or threat here to get more money? Yes, get out pig before I kill you right here!"

Ivan simply retreated from Yelena's presence, and sighing, decided to head outside, hoping to get some serenity. It seems that such lady was still blinded by idealistic utopias and delusions, someone who lacked logical reasoning and was driven by passion. Not like him, who was more rational and realistic on his takes, caring only about his own survival. He hoped her accusations wouldn't taint his image there, and simply left to the outside of the White Tower.

Soon several bushes began to intertwine, twist and turn, forming slowly the foundations of a strange sort of house next to the tower entrance. In a few minutes, an entire, small home made of purely living nature was there, and Ivan entered in it, visibly tired, through a vineyard door. There he remained for the rest of the day, for he was getting already too far with his stamina, and he didn't want to have another crisis.

Clearly nervous, Yelena looked at Marvel, now a bit less tense, and asked in a more friendly tone, about Ivan. It was clear she hated that old cripple for some reason:

"That man, do not be deceived. He will do anything for money, he is a mercenary with no ethics or morals. He could have just lived peacefully, but he decided to betray everyone he met. He sold his knowledge and his skills for gold. He can't be trusted in a place like this, at the first opportunity he would steal, corrupt or worse for the right amount of coins. I bet he was going to lure me to somewhere, and threat to cut my right arm if I didn't give him money, or something like that. He has nothing to teach but ambition, ruthlessness, unhealthy greed and immorality. Please Marvel, tell them to banish him from here. He... he would probably have killed me if someone paid him enough for that, and you are lucky he never met your enemies, because he would go for you too if so. And also, I am not an old hag, you poorly roasted goulash with bull horns! I am just thirty-nine years old!", she said in the end in an attempt to raise her own mood despite everything.

"Also, besides Ivan the Mercenary, is there anyone who could remove this useless weight from my left shoulder?"

OOC: I suppose I should have phrased that better. I didn't mean something would really be created besides the runes, merely have magic connect to nerves without further creation to receive signals from what's left of the nerves in her arm. As for complication levels, to each their own. I'm one of those people who prefers simple solutions to complicated problems.

Joshua allowed his magic to quickly fade, making the runes vanish. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean harm. Usually spells like that don't do that, and I've never encountered an effect like we just saw." Mali, still with her flute, began to play a simple melody, one to reduce pain, both physical and emotional.
"Please just calm down." Her own translation spell not quite as effective. "I'm sure it was just a miscommunication, especially since we're using a spell and not our own knowledge to understand your speech."
Zena however sighed. "I'm used to fixing his messes." Her eyes glowed for a moment. "Yea, just like I thought. There's magic roots there, but they should vanish within a couple seconds, they would have even if the spell was still there. But since the spell vanished, it'll be a faster removal still." She checked again. "You probably can't feel it, but they're almost gone as of now. I don't think anyone but the person who put this one can remove it safely though, unless you think we should call for Kathy. She's the person who created Joshua's arm, and the design is remarkably similar to yours. And by now everything should be as it was before Josh decided to take action." Zena's translation was by far the best of the trio's, though she couldn't always get it to work on writing.

"Thirty nine AGAIN, huh? Tell me I haven't heard THAT one before!" The mischievous grin was back on his face. More quietly, he chided, "Babe, you're going to have to learn about friendly teasin'--and about demons who can feel magic. There's a spell in that arm of yours somewhere, and it tastes like telepathy.

"Now, last I knew, Phrenology was a phony science where people figured out your personality by feeling the bumps on your head. It's a parlor trick. There's no way that it could be used to make a biomechanical interface. Somebody lied to you, and it wasn't me--in fact, don't ask me why, but I've never lied to you, even when I could have. And I didn't force you to accept my help. I asked your permission.

"Have you stopped to consider that your arm might not be working because you're using your magical ability to block all the magic around you, and that's jinxing the control spell? Zena over here is right: Joshua's arm is a lot like yours. If it was the magic in this place that was putting the hurt on your arm, it would also probably be doing the same thing to his.

"And I'm going to wait until you're in a better mood to try and talk some sense into you. You really, really have a lousy scientific attitude for someone who claims to embrace technology. Somewhere, long ago, you trusted some authority figure rather than checking things out yourself, and now you're screaming at people who are trying to help you because, even though your own people are trying to kill you because of it, you can't admit that he might just possibly have been wrong. Not scientific, dear. People lie, evidence doesn't."

Of course, that last statement was just an old wives' tale. Evidence could be manipulated in a million different ways to make it lie--but that was complicated, and the demon didn't want to confuse the poor girl's teeny, tiny, infinitesimal, slammed-closed little mind when he had a perfectly good point to make.

Zena blinked at the speech that was given. "Please tell me you remembered a translation spell on that. Otherwise it's wasted words. I do, however, thank you for the praise you gave. And Joshua has other ways of keeping his arm working around a lot of magic."
Josh smiled. "Tis true. Working with the top magical researchers in my country has it's perks." He proceeded to grab his right shoulder and pull with all his might until a sickening snap echoed through the hall. "I forgot how much that hurts." he groaned while pulling the arm out of his sleeve. It looked like someone had expertly crafted a human arm from metal plates, though left holes by the shoulder and inside of the elbow for flexibility. It was also covered in runes at those points and seemed to have an almost tattoo like spell written in an ancient language near the shoulder. "See these, they block out external magic, but still allow everything internally to function nicely." He replaced the arm and muffled another scream as the magic reactivated and reconnected everything for a painful split second.

Tap...Tap...Tap...

A man was making his way up the path, altogether, not an uncommon act, but it was worth mentioning, because this man had an uncommon appearance. Indeed, it looked like a gang of renegade clowns had their way with a passing monk, though this was not the case. His shirt was bright, and shiny, but not magically so. It was the sort of shirt enertainers wore, and it was bright green and bright orange, and contrasted sharply with the zen like aura around him.
His pants, simillarly dazzling, were awfully mismatched, being yellow and pink. His eyes were closed, and he was making his way along with a cane. He was blind, which explained why he was so poorly matched in his dress. His cane was not much more than a long plastic rod, and it served it's purpose well enough. He had a long black case strapped to his back, and what was in this box was anyone's guess.

He made his way into the tower, and stopped when he discovered he was inside.

He appeared to be no older than Twenty-four years of age.

"Hello?" he called out. His voice was soft and melodious, and hinted that if he so chose, he could sing beautifully. Why then, was this man here? He had no sensations of magic coming from him, at least, not at the moment.

"Yellena and I have a history," Marvel said to Zena. "Once, when she was dieing, I went into her mind and brought he back. Now, she understands everything I say, no matter what language I say it in.

"Yo, fema, wo slica tu-sa hara?" he asked in Doch, the artificial language of the Red Gargoyle Military, looking at Zena. Hey, babe, who cuts your hair?

And then, something very strange happened. The spell in Yellena's arm altered itself. It stopped feeling like telepathy and turned to something more like space alteration. It was wierd, but Marvel didn't say anything. He had other matters to concentrate on.

The purple robed man still simply observed the group. He just stood there with no expression on his face. He had not said a word as of yet, indeed, he had not even attempted to converse with anyone, and no one had showed much interest towards him. He was like a shadow in human form - seemingly forgettable and uninteresting.

And that worked for him just well. He wasn't big on caring about things of that nature, and hadn't been for quite some time. Whilst it was quite invigorating to be in such a place, a place of relative purity, filled with curious people, it did not change what he was.

Unlike some others, he had not been drawn there by any force. No destiny, no undetermined divinity. Instead, it had been his own curiosity which had brought him to the place. And due to his status, he had no reason not to go where ever he wanted to.

The man listened, he could hear people further in, somewhere. He could, no, better not give them the wrong impression. Besides, only his grandmother could do that with any degree of accuracy.

Tap...Tap...Tap...

Slowly he made his way further in. He stopped, the air seemed to flow diffrently here, yes, a doorway was here. He stopped and sniffed the air, the scent of women hung heavily in the air about here, so he decided not to go in it's direction. Last time he did, he wound up in the women's restroom in a fancy upscale restaurant. He walked off again, he wasn't sure where to go. At least those with vision had a better chance of finding an offical or someone, able as they were to catch a glimpse of someone, or something, in the distance.

Tap...Tap...Tap...Shlop.
"Shlop?" Hoyrel asked in confusion.
"Pardon me sir, but I'm afraid these rooms are restricted to Faculty only, can't you read the sign?" asked a voice.
"I'm afraid I can't, I'm blind, unless it's written in brail, but I would've found the sign eventually, I'm new here, are you the headmaster?" the man asked.
"Not quite, no, but I do serve the headmaster, I'm, Facilities Maintenence, among other things. Presently the staff is showing the newer students to their rooms, among other places. Do you get Magic sick easily?" asked the voice.
"No, I get altitude sickness though, but not much more than a feeling of quesiness." The man said.
"Spare me the details, please. I shall teleport you to the group." The Voice said. The man didn't know this, but this voice was one of the many imps that scurried about the castle always dusting and fixing things. They all belonged to Galvenor, and this one happened to be a particularly nice imp. It snapped it's fingers, and the man felt a slight falling sensation, and then it went away. The air was diffrent, he could tell he was with a group of people. He had no idea where though, so he kept quiet.

OOC: Imp used with Bal's permission via IM.

Khat studied the purple robed man - indeed he had given all of those presence a far more than cursory look over - and gave him a companionable nod, but being careful of humans, he did not introduce himself.

Rash resettled himself about Drai'lee and she smiled, feeling much safer around Marvel than she had before. If Rash liked him that was good enough for her - and he had petted Rash just where he liked to be petted.

The arrival of the garishly dressed man...she blinked...the blind garishly dressed man with the cane...she was pretty sure it was blind humans who used such a cane...she shivered in terror at the though of being blind, but that didn't stop her from whisking over and asking , as she hovered in midair, her irridescent wings fluttering furiously...

"Are you a new student here? I though Khat and I were the last to arrive."

"Indeed, yes. My name is Hoyrel. Are you a sort of pixie, or fairy? I hear the flutter of wings." Hoyrel said softly. He shifted the long black box on his back. It seemed heavy.

"I haven't had a chance to properly register though, having just arrived. I hope someone will be kind enough to assist me with the paperwork, unless of course, Registration is taken care of magically, at which point, I would really appreciate knowing where I can take care of this bundle." Hoyrel said a moment later.

"I don't know about 'registering'. I am not sure what it is. papers...?" She thought for a moment "Oh do you mean enrolling? I've never done that either. But no one has said anything about it."

"And yes I am a Fae. I'm Drai'lee and my friend is Khat. We're pleased to meet you Hoyrel. Here, if thats heavy, why don't you take this room next to mine and Khats. That will put you, like us, at the very top of things...well,except for the study room in the top of the dome."

She caught Khat's eye and he quickly padded over and opened the door next to the one they had chosen. "Master Galvenor said that only you or an instructor can open yur particular door after you've settled in."

Hoyrel smiled.

"I pray these walls are soundproofed." He said, as he entered. He found the bed, and set his case down. He opened it up to reveal a long wooden stringed instrument. It was a Koto, a Japanese stringed instrument, though his was not as long as a normal Koto.

Beneath it was an array of horribly mismatched clothes, and one realised nobody had ever bothered to make sure the poor man at least looked nice in what he bought. to be sure, they fit properly and showed nothing indecent, but above and beyond that, it was as if he had no concept of color what so ever. In the case as well were various extra strings and other things neccessary for the proper care and maintenence of a Koto.

Hoyrel too it out, found the corner, and set it down. He kneeled behind it, and plucked a few strings.
"This was my mothers, I hope you will humor me for a moment and let me test it to ensure it still sounds as good as when she played it." Hoyrel said.
He plucked a few more, and then began playing. To say he was good was a bit of an understatment. He was born without sight, and almost as a gift, was a child prodigy with Music. The music seemed to flow around Drai'lee and Khat, and everyone else in the vicinity. Before he started playing, he seemed powerless, but now that he was, it was easy to tell he had a great amount of untapped potential. Further, after a few moments of close study, one realised Hoyrel was actually controlling the sound itself, actually bending the sonic energy to his will, which was why the music was actually physically wrapping itself around everyone nearby, enabling them to hear far better than what the acoustics might normally allow. When he finished, he wiped the sweat off his brow, and stood up.

"I apologise, During the song I accidentally lost control and directed the Sonic energy. I'm not that good, yet. I hope I did not harm anybody." Hoyrel said, bowing deeply.

OOC: The song he plays, played on a real Koto, by a real master.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhxlQlZafvY

A billion whispers came into his head....
We revoke your...right....to this body....a right given by us....a right you have abused.....the Threads of Prophecy.... now say....be banished, now....and forever...

Pain shot through his every limb and nerve as his soul was torn from the precious Soul Gem that made up his body. Everyone in a thirty mile radius felt psychic screams running through their head (OOC: Note, this is on a different plane of existance. None of you have to worry). Flames crackled and sparked across the black mineral, purging the soul.

It was over in seconds. The blackened and charred gem repaired itself as it lay still, when a white liquid coated the body, forming into thick skin and muscle, smooth and immobile, and the white liquid, some sort of magical shield skin, crept up the body, turning hard black gem, shining in the moonlight, to white skin, glowing softly in it's own right.

It flowed up legs, becoming smooth hairless skin, under which thick muscles lay. Up it went farther and farther, turning an unknown gender into a (very well endowed) male. Flowed up, farther and farther, giving definition, beauty, and form to sheer faceless rock.

Up and up it crawled, turning a lump of stone that had the generally shape of a human head, into a well chiseled face, with prominant cheekbones, a rounded chin, laugh lines around the eyes, and short cropped hair, also white. The only thing that marred his face were his eyes, things that were dead and black and under which flowed arcane sigils.

The eyes showed the truth, and were ugly.

OOOC:I'll finish this in a few minutes.

OOC: Absolutely wonderful music!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drai'lle's wings fluttered slower and slower as she fell into the plangent sounds of the Koto, untill she rested on Khat's shoulder, her eyes wide. She scarecely seemed to breath until Hoyrel finished the song.

"Oh that was beautiful" She exclaimed softly "Did your mother teach you?"

Khat who noticed most everything - even when he was enwrapped in such exquisite music -twitched his wiskers in the direction of the instruments case.

Drai'ee winced. Everything in there was a flat out, major offense of Fae Fashion sense - at least color wise - and she couldn't help it, such majics were innate to her people and in the blink of an eye, every bit of clothing was properly color coordinated to work perfectly with Hoyrel's complectionm hair, and seasonal type.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OOC: Warhaven - sorry but she couldn't help it - she could no more let those horrid color combinations continue that she could go without breathing - it's a Fae thing.

OOC: Tis alright, it's not as if he'll ever notice, unless you change how it feels.

IC:
"Yes, as did my grandmother, unfortunatly they both died before they could teach me to control my powers. My powers stem directly from sound. Grandma was a grandmaster at Sonic Magic, and could do the legendary Dragon's Roar, albeit, not even she could do it perfectly though. At the moment, I must play my Koto to do anything, and all I have done is create sonic barriers. When I get better, I can use any sound, from the taping of my cane, to to the sound of your wings or voice, to White Noise to produce sonic effects." Hoyrel said.

Mali's eyes lit up at hearing all of this. "That was wonderful music. I'd love to hear more some time to be honest. And it would appear that we have something in common. Our magics both require sound, although mine is more geared toward music."
Joshua however opened his eyes after the performance and mulled it over for a moment. "It was good, though I'm sure I don't want to get on your bad side now. Being half demon may have it's advantages, but sound can be a great weapon against someone with hearing as acute as mine."

OOC: For those of you that didn't pick up on it in his profile, Joshua is indeed half demon, though that also means he's half human and subject to the dilemmas of both.

"Indeed, while I would be pleased to play more for you, it is also true that too much of a good thing is a bad thing." Hoyrel said. He went back though, and opened some pouches of multicolored sand.

"I wasn't quit honest, I've done other things with Sonic energy too." Hoyrel said, and immediatly he began playing. Looking at the sand, one could see it was actually moving. One could see the music moving it. The sand rose out of the bag, swirling like a small sand storm, and began to paint pictures with it with his music. For one who didn't know what color was, he was really good at it. First it showed them an underwater scene, filled with all sorts of fish in all sorts of shapes and sizes. There was a reef there, and a sandy bottom. Fish swam from left to right in rythim with the slow tranquil melody, then one fish leaped out of the water and turned into a bird, causing the scene to shift with the music into a light airey song. The bird flew along, when suddenly a sharp note signaled the coming of a storm. The bird flew into the storm and disappeared. Lightning flickered, and rain fell in buckets. The bird struggled to stay aloft, but was driven down by a strong draft. It fell, and injured it's wing, laying on the ground. Silence. The image threatened to falter and fall as the sound slowly disappeared. But he wasn't done yet. A bouncy joyous melody restored the sand picture to full strength, as a shadowy imitation of Drai'lee danced onto the scene, made entirely of black sand. It was a good imitation, though slightly innacurate, for one thing the wings were too big. It touched the fallen bird, and magic, signified by green sand, circled the bird and turned it into another fairy, a male version. The two danced and danced. Day passed into night, and the two flew off into the distance. The scene followed them. The melody became somewhat regal, as the two fairies landed, and turned into an Emperor and Empress. The two bowed to the audience, and took their seats on their throne. The sands flew back to their pounches, and the last strains of Hoyrel's song faded away.

"I remember my mother playing that song, but I do not remember what she called it. She usually said it was just a flight of fancy, so I named it flight of fancy number one." Hoyrel said as he stood and closed his pouches. All in all, the song took about ten minutes.

"Enough for tonight, A string is on the verge of snapping, I could feel it, and indeed, even hear it, I must change it." Hoyrel said. Seconds later, it snapped.

Marvel snorted and looked quickly at Joshua.

"Yeah," he said. "Your hearing. Just imagine what I'm going through."

He looked back at Yellena. Surprise, surprise, the little brat still seemed dejected. His little joke hadn't gone over.

Since she had altered Hoyrel's clothes, Marvel, for a moment, entertained the impulse to cast an image that make the Fae girl appear to be wearing a very skimpy bikini. He decided against it, however. Not all jokes are good in public. And besides, it would only be an illusion, and she would still be wearing a dragon underneath it.

Mali applauded loudly at the performance end. "Now that was spectacular. It takes true talent to manipulate something so small and yet so numerous." She lifted her flute and began to play a simple melody, though an enchanting one a that. Hoyrel's broken string began to move and twist with the music before the two ends reached toward each other and finally touched. The music changed, suddenly powerful and almost commanding. The string pieces glowed red hot for a second before the music changed again, becoming cold and harsh while the string cooled and returned to it's previous, unbroken state. "There we go, good as new. Care to give it a quick try?"

Joshua laughed at Marvel's comment. "I suppose that's true. Maybe we should stick together. After all, if our ears start to bleed at being attacked by sound, we'll need someone to help stick cotton balls in them!"

Halna sat up, rubbing his head to dull the aching pain away. "Shit, I didn't think that that'd be that painful. Shit." He stood up for a moment, then realized he was stark naked.

He quickly looked around the ground, and saw a golden suit of armor laid out, along with silver boots and a shiny helmet encrusted with sparkling gems and fire-red rubies. He slowly gathered the gear on, until the last gauntlet slipped on. A thought, foreign to his mind. Hello, Halna.

Halna's eyes quickly opened in surprise, then squinted as he looked for danger and rolled to the side, coming up in a battle ready stance. "Show your face, coward!" The voice chuckled. I'm the suit. Halna stood a little bit more, relaxing his guard a little bit. "The, uh... the suit?" Yeah, suit of armor. The one you're wearing? Yeah, I was imbued by the Threads to guide and prevent you from screwing up like the last guy did. Halna stood straight up, and completely relaxed his stance.

Good. Now, the Threads want you to pick up the crap on the ground. They have a mission for you. Go to the White Tower, become a teacher, and teach, for God's sake.

Halna looked at the shining plate quizzically. "Why?" Why would you ask me that? I don't know what the hell the Threads mean, I just tell you what they tell me to tell you. Halna nodded. He grabbed the bags on the ground, seeming too heavy, raised his hands, chanted a quick spell, and teleported away.
**********************************************************
At the White Tower, a small pop indicated Halna's coming, rather than fancy magics or loud noises. His prescense was enough, however. Halna stood ten feet tall, with thickly corded muscles, golden, shining armor, and a very military look about it, and he was veritably leaking magic out of his eyes, the black, dead things covered in arcane sigils.

He saw a group of people standing around, playing music. "Hey everybody!"


OOC:I'm gonna introduce my other characters a bit later.

Zena looked over at the new arrival and was nearly blinded by the magical aura. Looking past that, she saw him and her jaw dropped. Nudging Mali in the ribs, she pointed and whispered. "Damn that's one fine hunk of man over there." Mali giggled, but went back to her musical idol of the moment.

There was not much to be done for her. Yelena simply said as she sat down, in an introspective manner, pondering deeply about everything, while her eyebrows continually moved involuntarily in a sort of sign of nervousness: "Leave me alone to think for a moment Marvel, just do me a favor and tell them to banish that Ivan from this place. That man cannot be trusted, he might sell any important information he gets to an enemy of the creators of this place, or perhaps even sell knowledge of your location to your own enemies! And his morals are as dead as the sort of magics he delve into, do not be deceived! I could sense the stench of decay hidden by the sensation of soothing coming from him. He delves into both ways, not only in one. And I find it likely he would soon get to a graveyard to use some bones as puppets, or talk with tormented dead ones to exploit the knowledge of even the dead."

It seemed that everything was cyclical in her life. For almost two decades she has been a premier student and later researcher of engineering on electricity and steam engines, even if partly against her own will, and certain incidents related to her health led her to hate technology and industrialization. Then suddenly an involuntary teleport spell led her to a place where a group of old witches helped her to develop her magic skills, with no issues, until a load of misfortunes have changed her way of seeing magic and led her to again embrace technology. But now it seemed she was shifting back to the other side, to the point, through pure chance of a random teleport, she ended in a notable school of magic. Maybe there was more about her than she imagined. ´"Foolishness, there is no destiny or sense! We are born for nothing, we create our own fate and reasons to exist to ignore the truth there is none!", she thought with with a level of nihilism so strong that for those capable of sensing it, it almost seemed her aura, which was either purple or red due to its weakness, have vanished, it almost seemed she had no soul at all, with her existence being bound to the duration flesh and bones only. Yelena thoughts soon became more expressive than usual as small, delicate gusts of wind began to blow around and very close to her, being probably felt by anyone very close to Yelena. She whispered among these winds a single word, it was difficult to understand, but for Marvel, it was clearly that she mutter something about indecision. Yelena closed her eyes, reliving childhood memories yet again, as some sort of manner to escape from her problems. A single teardrop felt from her right eye, and stopped in mid-air, floating, still shaped like a drop, like if a photograph was taken, but time has not stopped.

"Some say people are always pure when they are children. It was when I first... I teleported a beam of light during a child's play, I cannot remember if it was by my own will or a subconscious act, then everything began to change in my life, I miss the times when my parents would only see me in an engineering school. When I had to be what I was not, I had a family nearby and was accepted, praised and prized, but I could still feel no joy in life. After I became what I truly am, I was scolded, hunted, rejected even by my own parents, with all that I believe and stand for turning against me. I did what I liked, but I still found no joy. I wish I could do what I liked, but be at least accepted by my comrades. They... are blinded by the same superstitions they fought so hard to abolish once. Now I can't decide whether to be someone I am not to have a family and people who would care about me, or to be what I am and be condemned to perpetual exile from where I was born. Although I fear I don't have even this choice anymore. I never wanted to be born with this, but... I was born with it, and I like to do it after all. This is why everything happened, since the beginning"

Yelena seemed somewhat depressed as she concluded what was her greatest torment and remembered she would never be able to return to Soviet Steam again. Everything changed as a sort of ragged individual began to play a tune. Yelena never judged people by their appearance, or perhaps judged on the opposite of usual. The ragged were not mendicants, but "decent people and victims of the bourgeois exploitation" while the pompous were "capitalist pigs" among all the rhetoric and indoctrination still influence her thoughts even after all that happened. She seemed to admire the individual despite his ragged appearance. His song seemed to improve her mood dramatically, and she looked at Marvel and said, smiling slightly,

"I am thirty-nine years old. And I will remain thirty-nine years old. I am Yelena Praskovya, I am never too old for anything. Now, where is that damn crow?"

Suddenly, Yelena averted her eyes from the man that recently arrived the best she could, perhaps due to the fancy golden armor and pompous manner this new arrival behaved, she simply ignored looking at him at all. It didn't take much longer for an echoing, annoying voice to come down there:

"Over here, armless old hag!"

Fastly tilting her head up to look high above at the oculus of the tower, seeing a far black dot into it being lit by sunlight while some small sparks came from it. Immediately she raised her left hand high up towards it and shouted:

"Iskra!"

It was not too soon that the bird squealed as he unnaturally began to fall at a very high speed from where it was before, diving at full speed towards the first floor of the tower.

"Who is the armless old hag?", Yelena shouted, apparently more amused than annoyed, while the bird was only five meters from splattering on the ground.

"Nobody is an old haaaaaaaaaaag!", Iskra shouted as it was two meters only from ground. Suddenly its fall decelerated as it stopped in mid-air, a few centimeters from ground only, and flew right at Yelena's hand. She pressed against its neck, although not enough to hurt it, and said menacingly. Yelena, when angered, was apparently another person, not anymore the indecisive, fearful damsel in distress looking only to get out of trouble, but someone scaringly ready to cuss the cause of her anger from everything possible. And this time, the music wasn't apparently enough to calm her down

"You insolent, annoying, bastard over-roasted pigeon! If not for you, I would still be with my friends and with my family. Others would have killed you, as you are nothing but an animal, and a pest which feast on whatever rots and stinks! Crap-eater and piss-drinker! You are so black because I'll tell you what you are, you are a flying excremen..."

Before Yelena could finish her sentence, she felt a sharp burning, it was fast, she should sensed her senses vanishing, a quick pain, her body becoming beyond her control. She shook on the ground for a while as a large quantity of electricity reached her body, shocking everything to the point her hair become somewhat sharp and raised. However, her hand holding the bird's neck only stiffened during it, and the crow was clearly becoming breathless due to it. Then she released it as it flew away again, and tilted her head to the left, letting some drool out of her mouth. Her heart was beating too fast, as it seems the crow has been more aggressive than expected... or tolerated. She felt herself helpless, and couldn't even speak. Only the blank of her eyes could be seen, but apparently she was still conscious, as she rose her hand to the above, and made a single obscene gesture, hoping that the crow would see it. A strong wind came downwards to her direction, right from the top of the tower, as if she was attempting to bring the bird down. In the end it was futile, as the bird was too far above to be reached.

Her weakening consciousness was too busy thinking on how such thing was truly a bad omen. She could almost imagine a tombstone with the Russian writings "Here lies Yelena Praskovya. Killed by the crow we roasted during her honors", a small smile came from her as she wondered about it. It was a sort of lesson in humility somehow. Even someone who studied the gift for almost two decades without interruption could fall in the hands of a mere enchanted bird. Her aura was slowly weakening as well, vanishing slowly as her time of death approached. Her heart was not working properly, beating irregularly and weakening each second.

"Wait!", someone shouted from the outside in an accented English. It was obviously another one who came from the same place as her. Ivan suddenly came from outside, running, or more properly, limping through the hallway towards Yelena while she was dying. He seemed to be almost about to collapse from such effort due to his frail nature. But soon he sat near her, and let her shoulders and head over his lap. She seemed to have become even worser than before as he approached, but he quickly pressed one of his hands towards her heart, and began to compress it in regular intervals while Yelena's body reacted by raising up slightly, visibly sweating while doing it. It seemed to be no avail. The man came very close to her face, and approached his own from her mouth in a last ditch to save her life, of course Ivan have seen her vitality, and was sure she could be a good host from where to drain energy to compensate for his frailness. But as soon as his old, dried lips were to touch hers, an invisible force shoved him off from her with an unimaginable strength, dragging his body through the floor for as far as three meters away from her. Luckily, he didn't got wounded. Stubbornly, he simply looked at her dying body from afar and began to become visibly exhausted.

Her eyes turned back again, and she could feel her body properly. With a struggle, Yelena got up, pale, and looked around, seeing as Ivan collapsed on the ground, and noticing another thing, as her broken arm was no longer attached to her real shoulder, giving her much comfort. She couldn't believe at what happened, although she was still pondering on whatever agenda Ivan had to have done that. Maybe it was clearly a way to disguise the truth about him, as far as she was told about him, he was a great conman and could easily do incredibly good actions in opposition to his morals to serve as a sheep's clothes for him. Not afraid of speaking or of being seen as ungrateful, she said, ignoring the fact most didn't know her language yet again.

"His betrayal have helped the enemies of my people to raze one of our towns. Do not be deceived by this action. He is probably sufficiently worried that he might be banished. And you can trust me, for I swear for my life and for the people this: Ivan will go to all possible extents to mask himself as a good man who helps those in necessary if he deems necessary to do so. He only helped me to disguise his true nature from all here. It seems contradictory, but here lies a mean who can reach a level of hypocrisy to the point of using altruist means to achieve selfish ends. Also, I don't think that crow has much worth. As you saw, it fancies annoying people to the point they lose their patience against him, and then as he expects to be attacked because of that, he shocks them. That crow is a bad omen and whatever magic it has, it is wicked. Perun is a god of war, and he is enchanted by his worshippers, although I bet there is a sort of minor god of mockery and trickster involved in this damnable crow as well. I believe that says much."

Apparently bothered by everything that happened, Yelena simply vanished from sight, with the last sign of her being a deep sigh and her reddish face of anger and frustration. Probably she teleported to somewhere else in the tower. Maybe her own bedroom. It was a quite different one. Entirely decorated in red in a very simplistic manner, and with walls filled by rows of newspapers about something called "The Paris Commune", there was no better way to describe it than as spartan. The bed was only large enough to fit her, and lacked any fancy decoration or luxury, being purely utilitarian in purpose. There was no nightstand or furniture, and some weird propaganda posters were also in a few places. Some of her belongings were literally hanging on air, as if held by invisible furnitures and clothespins, because it didn't take long for Yelena to discover that it was possible to enchant non-living objects in that place without a constant influx of magic. A constant wind was blowing towards her bed, and apparently she had more clothes than those she was wearing. They were too hot for the place. Yelena didn't take long to undress herself despite her predicament, although she lost a bit of the practice of doing things with only one hand. Irreverently, she simply threw her mud-soaked clothes, gloves and boots and the shovel as well through a window of the tower, and opened a door to a tiny room where a very simple steel bathtub was located. Opening a sink, she let it almost full before going for a bath. The place was not as cold as her homeland, and she could now notice clearly what happens when someone like hers stay an entire year without a bath. The thick clothes she was wearing before hid the stench to an extent from others, but she didn't want them anymore.

The water was neither hot nor cold, only warm, as she preferred. She simply stood there and pondered again about everything, using a sponge to wash herself. She could barely remember how pleasant was to take a bath in such way. Although her bedroom was locked, the bathroom door wasn't, and she watched through the opening the window to the outside in her room. Her relaxation ended as a black figure was spotted in the distance, coming towards her window.

It was that annoying and dangerous beast again, and it apparently also was looking at her with its pitch black eyes. And it was shouting: "Hey, look everyone! Free Live Russian pornography here!", with his annoying voice muffled by the distance. Yelena's face became more red of anger than before. Not only it was annoying, but insolent and disrespectful. She just waited as the crow headed towards her room, calculating its speed mentally. Just as it was about too enter, two decorated glass windows closed tightly and quickly, and it crashed straight against them, leaving some feathers and some blood on the outside. Yelena hoped that it was dead now. She had bad company before, but this thing. It is likely worse than a Perun priest spewing holier-than-thou rhetoric day and night.

Smiling as she looked at what remained of the bird in the window, she finished her bath, and took a time to choose some new clothes. Yelena was never very fond of dresses or skirts, as she considered them usually clumsy and bothersome to dress. Nonetheless, she did choose a simple brown trouser skirt to wear, due to its utilitarian nature, and equally, her orange long-sleeved shirt was similarly simple, although filled with as much pockets as a military uniform. She simply took a pair of white clogs as well, and combed her hair in a sort of hasty way with her own hands. Yelena was at the opposite side of a narcissist in many ways.

At least the crow was no longer a bothersome issue to worry about, she thought as she humbly went down the stairs through the traditional way, using her own feet, as she had to save her own magic. Her teleport was only a way for her to get out before someone managed to make her nervous to the point of being a danger to those close, but this time she was calmer. She did not seemed tired after going down six floors worth of stairs. In fact it seemed much more satisfying to her than using magic. As she returned to the main hall in the first floor, she quickly looked at Marvel and said unceremoniously:

"I am sorry friend, that damn flying dung was getting on my nerves. Could you please help me to show these people there is nothing wrong with me before someone thinks I am a sort of uneducated riff-raff? Well, I guess I tend speak anything when something makes me angry, I hope most of them can't understand what I say"

Her eyebrows moved once again without herself winking, but it did not happen further on. On the other hand, it was evident she could become ashamed at any moment from the entire situation. A slight tone of red could be seen from close at her cheeks. Ivan had reawakened by then, and he simply said he needed to rest, ignoring Yelena and simply going back to his green house.

Yelena have got in many really dangerous situations before, but this time, it was a first when she got into an incredibly embarassing situation among other peers. Evidently where she came from, they either did not teach etiquette, or she never was someone who cared about it.

Hoyrel knelt and plucked the string.
"Marvelous." He said.

He picked up two of the pouches of sand.

"See, I know what's what, because of how they feel. This pouch, full of red, is smooth, and oval shaped. This pouch full of blue is triangular, and mostly smooth, with occasional bumbs in the side. Somebody else told me what color they were. I'm only good with the sand, because that's how I practice my powers, controling and moving sand.

Anyways, It seems to me that this tour should be getting on any second now." Hoyrel said putting the sand away and closing it.
He joined everyone in the hall, and closed the door. In response to his condition, the texture of the door changed itself, become rough in a certain pattern, and wrote his name in Braile on the handle.

"How nice, I can find my room on my own then." He remarked feeling how the door changed. He stood there with his cane, waiting for the tour to go on.

Ivan pondered about the apparent honesty of Eldrad to address him. Either the elf was really honest, or a very skilled fast-talker and liar. Maybe it was the fact he came from a world where people did not tend to help others or give information expecting nothing in return, but he was still hiding some worries about that place, and the manner he asked him seemed deeply suspicious. Perhaps it was the fact he wanted to know if he would be a threat to their agenda in the white tower, and thus they would have to either banish him from there or worse, get rid of him permanently.

He wouldn't give the details of the strange idea forming up in his mind. The guess seemed to much of a coincidence, and maybe Eldrad was attempting to read his mind, to later control it. Using his mental discipline he began to have his thoughts with less emphasis and deeper into his consciousness, camouflaging them by several casual superficial thoughts regarding his home land. Ivan did not take too much time to sketch an answer, and spoke, hoping he would not suspect there was more:

"Eldrad, my only concern is about my usefulness in this place. I never studied magic in my life, it always came to me naturally, and I doubt it's possible to teach or pass to others skills I was born with. I doubt our manners of using magic are equal, and I fear that maybe I don't have much to contribute here, and perhaps my travel has been useless. My only knowledge is far away from magics, for I am experience in the art of war. I will be open about it, as for a man like me, there are not many opportunities around in the Theocracy of Perun. The only manner to make a living I saw was to open a mercenary company to help with their war effort against their close enemies of Novaya Russia. Yes, I am a mercenary and military strategist first, and a mage second. I doubt this place needs the experiences and knowledges I have. I'm not sure, but perhaps I could teach it to someone who came from the same world I live in, and if this one also was born with the gift, or perhaps curse. Suffice to say, where I lived initially in Pangaea, they shot mages and witches on sight, or worse."

Although Eldrad had not been reading Ivan's mind, nor would he without permission, he felt the shift in thoughts, and sighed inwardly. It seemed that the young man was resolute on being as enigmatic as possible, and as paranoid as he could without broadcasting it. It would seem, on reflection, that this was his normal modus operandi, so Eldrad decided against pushing the subject any further.

"A place such as this always needs many sources of knowledge, otherwise we could hardly call ourselves a place of learning. As for this power of yours... if you regard it as a curse, then you seek to have it lifted. If you see it as a gift, then you wish to harness it. It cannot be both, iregardless of what others may think. You have a gift to use, or a curse to rid yourself off, nothing more. And no-one can tell you what course of action to take."

He mused a moment longer, then said, "Do not think you are the only one who has been hated by peoples, simply because you are different. It is the way of the ignorant, fearing that which they do not understand. Do not see ignorance as stupidity, however, for an ignorant man can learn. A stupid one cannot. We are ignorant of your power, but we wish to learn of it, to help you learn to control it for your own ends, nothing more."

OOC: Sorry about the length of time between replies, revision's a bitch.

Halna began to stride toward the other people, when the armor whispered to him again. Hey, idiot, your aura is too strong. Halna paused for a second. "What?" Your magical aura, the stuff flowing from your eyes? Yeah, turn that off.
"I can't."
Yes, you can. You have a spell that can do that.
Halna's eyes popped open. "Oh, yeah." Halna muttered a few words, and the spell disguised most of the magical aura of the blackened eyes.

He continued walking over to the people, just as the man with the instrument left. "Hey, everybody. My name's Halna. What's yours?" He said as he walked up to them, a cautious smile on his face.

OOC:
Wizard Spells Left Today:4/11/10/10/10/9/10/7/9/8/6/6

Zena gave him a once over before stopping at his eyes. Woah, did not see that coming. She was surprised to see someone as incredibly handsome as he to have eyes that did not match. Zena, don't get too excited. He's not your type, let alone your species. Chaz's wisdom echoed through her head. About time you spoke now isn't it you little furball? but I'll be careful. I remember what happened last time someone didn't listen to your advice. "My name's Zena Arial Willa Montello. Where are you from, if I may ask?"

Quietly, Marvel looked at Joshua. "The lady knows Ivan," he said, "and she doesn't like him. Claims he'll sell us down the river for a plate of sand. I'm going to take another look at that fake arm. Something about it is...wrong."

It wasn't long before he'd scooped the infernal contraption up and had it in his sights. Maybe Marvel couldn't cast a whole lot of spells, but he could feel magic, and he could recognize most of the spells around him. This false arm was different, though. As if there was magic in it but not magic at all. It was sort of like anti-magic.

Anti-magic? But when you put that and magic together, you get...

"Ohhh sh--." BOOM!

Mali, Zena, and Joshua flew backward from the blast, screaming the whole way. Zena managed to get her wits about her and collect everyone in psychic bubbles to prevent them from further harm. I'm listening to topmost thoughts. Who here is injured or needs help? Zena's voice penetrated everyone's head while they all floated there.

The newcomer in golden armor was interesting but not overly impressive - Drai'lee had met her grandaunt, the Winter Queen. Now there was scarey and impressive.

Khat was completely unaffected -seemingly - his silverly grey fur however was left standing on end by the pressure wave of the explosion. He'd reached out a paw to try and snag Drai'lee by her long hair but missed.

Drai'lee had endede up on the floor, landing with a small yip of dismay. squeek. Fortunately neither of her wings were damaged, but the very light robe she was wearing diden't survive, leaving her in naught ... and Rash undulating in mid air beside her.

Standing up at her full human height - just a couple of inches over five and a half feet tall -she rubbed her abused derriere then stalked over to Marvel. The look on her face was clearly an unhappy one.

´"Just in time"´, Yelena thought as the explosion distracted everyone from her previous behavior. Apparently Marvel wasn't aware of what happens when someone uses magic close to a coal powerplant or industrial machinery. Annoyingly she was floating, and not by her own will. It never was pleasant to her whenever she needed the help of others, more due to the fact such moments were usually marked by unforgettable pain rather than due to an oversized ego. Landing back in the floor through her own means, Yelena stared at Marvel with a funny look in her eyes, and one of her eyebrows moving again. She seemed perhaps worried, or perhaps about to laugh due to her uncertain, rather than neutral, expression. More of usual Russian came from her. Also, some strong "get out of my head!" thought came from her, as apparently she wasn't much of a liker of people even coming close to her mind.

"I told you Marvel. I hope you never used an illusion in a conveyor belt, compressor or any industrial machine. This is not the worst that can happen. Complex machinery and magic don't mix at all. I would tell you the history of the madman who tried to make a magical cannon, but I bet you have already guessed how it ends."

"Now, as I don't have anywhere else to go, I will stay here. I'm not sure if I can learn anything, because most of what I have developed was self-learned, and others only served to encourage me to practice. Maybe some concepts can bring me new perspectives perhaps. But since the first time, all my magic was self-developed rather than taught by others to me. Maybe once I manage to teleport to any dream land I can imagine I will be satisfied. Maybe a motherland where people tolerate magic. But I cannot just teleport my existence to dreams, because dreams are only illusions of the mind. But how I would be glad if I could, everything would be easy if we could just imagine a Heaven and arrive there through will. But reality is not so forgiving."

"At least I will not have to endure annoying birds again. Who can I talk about that could give me some aid into finding... a new paradigm of magic for me to direct my capabilities at, who would do it without expecting traitorously something in exchange later?"

It was weird how Yelena seemed to not be afraid or bothered by the incident. It have been very convenient indeed, as now it was unlikely that anyone would look funnily at her because of her previous behavior after an excellent distraction like this one.

Zena apologized and let Yelena out of the bubble, but none too gently for her attitude after Zena was just trying to make sure everything was alright. Marvel, what fresh hell have you wrought now?

The sound of the explosion, more than the force, caused Eldrad to express his surprise, and he spun round. He had to take a moment to blink, making sure he fully understood what was going on, before he realised what had happened. He felt the force hit him, and simply waved his hand, the force diverting into the walls either side of him, cracking and splintering the stone. When the blast subsided, he brushed the dust off his black robes, and then looked around.

Magick and anti-magick... we're lucky that didn't bring the roof down on us.

He moved his hand slightly, the tips of his long tapered fingers glowing a bright, electric blue. Sparks of what seemed to be electricity shot forth jaggedly, collecting up the damage to the building, dissolving it and rebuilding the slightly damaged corridor. It was a simple gesture, deftly carried out, and he was done within a moment of the explosion. Looking at the source, he was unsurprised to find it was the one who called himself 'Marvel'.. the man seemed to act like Loki, the trickster of Norse mythology, out for mischief and little else. Everyone else seemed to be alright, saved it would seem by another's quick thinking. Giving himself a quick reminder to thank them for their aid, Eldrad moved along the corridor quickly, bypassing those who stood there with ease, before he stood before Marvel. His voice was soft, not angry, level, "Would you kindly explain what just happened here?"

The question was rhetorical - he knew what had happened. But how the young man answered him would tell him more than anything else.

A grin had appeared on the face of the man in the purple robe, as he had been left unaffected by the blast. How or why wasn't too apparent, but it had nonetheless. Although it was much more likely that it was because of some kind of ward popping up rather than anything else - he was, after all, human.

Once the blast had passed him, he just continued what he had done from the moment he had showed up - observing the situation. Until...

" -- Complex machinery and magic don't mix at all. I would tell you the history of the madman who tried to make a magical cannon, but I bet you have already guessed how it ends."

After hearing that particular comment, the man smiled, and he no longer could just remain silent.

"And I could tell you the history of an empire that successfully combined magic with technology so advanced that what you have shown not only pales in comparison, but would seem like child's play."

Having said that, he sighed deeply.

"But I shall not go any further into details."

Marvel spat a load of dust out of his mouth. "Ohh, yech!" he sputtered. "P'tew!" The arm had reduced itself to powder, and Marvel was covered in it. Somehow--don't ask him how--his arms and hands had survived, but he'd be picking the dust out of his skin for some time to come.

"You idiots!" he cursed. "I didn't use any magic on that thing! It all just seeped in from here--from us! That thing was from a different world, with different laws of physics, where magic and technology just don't mix! It's a wonder that Ivan and Yellena are still alive in this place! It already made 'em sick! Doggone it, this hurts! I'M A VICTIM HERE!!!!!! P'tew!"

And then, Birdbrain flew out of nowhere and started circling around the demon.

"Look what we have here!" it squawked. "Good ol' bomb breath has done it again!"

Never swap barbs with a demon.

Marvel fireballed the thing there and then. If he had been at full strength, maybe it would have been enough to finish the job--but Marvel had trouble casting a proper fireball even at his best. As it was, the spell merely charred off all of the bird's feathers. It fell on the ground, looking like a cross between a nude supermodel and a roasted chicken.

"[Squaaaawk]I think a nice, long nap would do me a world of good," it said, sinking to the ground.

Marvel smiled. "Looks like we've got some more free Russian pornography," he said.

"Complex Machinery and magic does exist, and it's an entire school of knowledge that bridges science and magic, it's called Magiscience, and my homeland, The Dark Empire of Warhaven, boasts some of the finest Magiscientists in existence. True enough under normal circumstances science and magic oppose each other, but if you have the knowledge, if you follow Xos's path, you can do alot." said a new voice.

Hoyrel turned toward's the voice.
"I recognise that voice, Lerim! Dear god your still alive? I thought by now you would've blown yourself to smithereens." Hoyrel said with a grin.

The man wore wizard robes, and true many of them were familier arcane symbols, but the other half were scientific in nature. He had blond hair, and grin eyes, and was generally a jolly fellow.
"Hey, that's not fair, I just have an extrordinary amount of bad luck, that's all. Besides, the most I've done recently is blow my hands off, four times!" Lerim said, revealing the fact that he was exceedingly poor at using magic, and was a danger to himself and others.

But, when had he gotten there, and how, that was the question. He had taken an availible room accross the hall, and was already set up. A poster of The Magi-masters hung on the wall. It was perfectly ordinary, yet still, something seemed wrong about it, not in the sense that it was evil, wrong in the sense that it held a secret. Perhaps it was the runes printed in a micro-print so fine one needed a microscope to see them, runes that were activated by the ambient magic of the tower, perhaps it was the way Xos's portrait came to life, turned to the group, winked at them, and then turned back and became a part of the picture again, who knew? Either way, Lerim was shaping up to be, "interesting".

Lerim shut the door firmly, and rejoined the group.

"So, I'm Lerim, Energy Mage." Lerim said, introducing himself.

Dastardly Stench;13724758']Marvel spat a load of dust out of his mouth. "Ohh, yech!" he sputtered. "P'tew!" The arm had reduced itself to powder, and Marvel was covered in it. Somehow--don't ask him how--his arms and hands had survived, but he'd be picking the dust out of his skin for some time to come.

"You idiots!" he cursed. "I didn't use any magic on that thing! It all just seeped in from here--from us! That thing was from a different world, with different laws of physics, where magic and technology just don't mix! It's a wonder that Ivan and Yellena are still alive in this place! It already made 'em sick! Doggone it, this hurts! I'M A VICTIM HERE!!!!!! P'tew!"

And then, Birdbrain flew out of nowhere and started circling around the demon.

"Look what we have here!" it squawked. "Good ol' bomb breath has done it again!"

Never swap barbs with a demon.

Marvel fireballed the thing there and then. If he had been at full strength, maybe it would have been enough to finish the job--but Marvel had trouble casting a proper fireball even at his best. As it was, the spell merely charred off all of the bird's feathers. It fell on the ground, looking like a cross between a nude supermodel and a roasted chicken.

"[Squaaaawk]I think a nice, long nap would do me a world of good," it said, sinking to the ground.

Marvel smiled. "Looks like we've got some more free Russian pornography," he said.

Choosing for the time being to ignore the rather distasteful remark, Eldrad knelt next to Marvel,"Stop complaining about how you have been victimised by your own foolishness, and hold still but for a moment."

He touched a finger to Marvel's temple, the blue sparks that had restored the walls seeping into the young man's head. This time, they did not rebuild shattered walls, but restored his strength, healed any minor wounds, and left him feeling better. Still not great, but better than before. When this was done, Eldrad stood, looking at Marvel, "I suggest a walk in the grounds to help bring yourself back to strength. That goes for all concerned... it will help. As for the magick that caused this... it is a good chance for you all to observe that differing forms of magick can conflict, albeit unintentionally, with potential for disaster. The only way to avoid such things is to try and remove as much of your ignorance as possible.. although I will admit myself as ignorant to this as you all were. We are all capable of failing at times... it is that which makes us stronger, and wiser for it."

He sighed, and clasped his hands behind his back, "Since the majority are settled into your assigned rooms, I will take my leave. Those wishing to apply to become instructors may come and see me when I am not otherwise occupied in buisness... for the time being, I will be in the study area atop the tower. You all know how to use the beam, simply go as far as up as is possible."

He turned on his heel, bowed his head slightly to the group, and then walked slowly out of sight, seemingly deep in thought. Indeed he was, for these students were a widely varied bunch, each with their own respective talents and weaknesses. Some were jokers, some were serious mages. A few looked to have the potential to become full time instructors, on top of being students. Eldrad still considered himself very much a student, for whilst his mastery of warp magicks was without question, he remained somewhat ignorant of many fields of study... there was so much to learn, and although the Black Library was at his disposal, a store of knowledge many would give everything for, there sometimes seemed to be no time to learn it all. No time at all.

He stepped into the swirling orange light, and floated upwards towards the glass-domed top of the Tower, from which he could see many miles, see much that was going on around him, and most importantly, focus. Focus was key. Without it, he would be lost to the Maelstrom each time he drew from it.

Marvel got back to his feet and spread his bat-like wings. Maybe those hoity-toity types weren't so bad after all. True, he was still covered in a fine, brown powder from head to toe, but at least it wasn't embedded in his skin any more.

He wiped some of the stuff from his eyes. "Thanks, dude," he said, "but I'm not a ma--."

It was too late. His Magesty had already walked away into some portal of somekind.

He turned to the newcomer.

"Dude, you don't get it," he said. "Magic and technology work together in your world. They work together in my world. They just don't work together in her world.

"Now, I'd love to stay, but I've got to get cleaned up."

Birdbrain squawked in his sleep.

"I don't wanna hear it," Marvel said, holding out his hand. Smoke rose from the palm.

The bird remained silent--for a change.

Yelena shrugged at the ineptitude of Marvel to handle dangerous things. It seemed now extremely obvious how he was more prone to get into trouble than even herself. She thought about it as comic, if not dangerous, and held her will to smile sardonically about what just have happened. Apparently Marvel was still too busy with the incident to understand her questions in the middle of all the commotion.

However, someone seemed to be capable of understanding her. It was logical that they were resorting to magic to bridge the gaps of different languages. A mysterious, in the sort of disturbing way, purple robed man has mentioned something which seemed to reek of absurdity, something which contradicted everything, for how could principles of science be simultaneously used and disrupted? There was only one thing certain, from the way the man spoke, he was certainly arrogant and likely from a sort of upper class in the mind of Yelena.

"And I could tell you the history of an empire that successfully combined magic with technology so advanced that what you have shown not only pales in comparison, but would seem like child's play."

Yelena stared quickly at the man, with cold but passionate blue eyes that seemed to be attempting to see beyond the shadows of his cloak. It was almost like the stereotypical arrogant, ambitious wizard of propaganda posters against magic that she saw many times in her nation, where usually a fat man with a black suit and a top hat was tapping the shoulder of the wizard while with his other hand holding a blood and sweat-soaked bag of money. It were people like him that served to promote the hatred of all that is magic, that justified even the most picturesque piece of propaganda. Yelena thought such man had something significant to hide, and perhaps, his arrogance could be an weakness. Her reply was in accordance:

"If you do not wish to give details, perhaps I can question the legitimacy of your claims. Or the existence of your empire. Perhaps there is no empire, and no secret to make the impossible possible. Or why else would you refuse to give details? I would love to know more about how your grand empire have managed to achieve such feat, about your empire, and particularly, about how exactly it makes a impossible 'magical cannon' seems like a child's play"

Suddenly the annoying crow came again, as apparently crashing with an window was not enough for the creature to die or at least stop being such a prick, but this time Marvel gave the annoying bird a deserving lesson. As Marvel commented something. Yelena laughed, approaching and whispering to him:

"There are not degenerates who enjoy this sort of visage where I came from, but there is the tale of an old, weird farmer in Novaya Russia who had lots of chickens and hens and supposedly did something with a hen."

A new arrival came, calling himself Lerim, an Energy Mage. Yelena again heard someone talking it is possible to combine what uses the laws of science with what distorts them, but this time at least there was not the same reeking arrogance of the mysterious type. He mentioned something about Xos' path, that Yelena never heard about before. Neither she was aware of the so called Dark Empire of Warhaven, but at least this time there was a name given to it. Apparently he was a bit unlucky as well, just like her. The difference being her bad luck was generalized, while his was only with magic. Yelena seemed like three, and she spoke to Lerim, hoping he also could tell her some interesting tales:

"Where I came from, that is impossible. Magic and technology are so different paths that nations who choose differently them are either wary of each other or warring, but they have infinite potential by themselves. Magic is limited in power in the coasts, almost nonexistent to the point most of those who live in the coast don't believe magic exists at all, and very powerful in the heart of Pangaea, in a desolate, scorched place which still is marked by the stains of war, filled with fortresses and trenches to the end: the Badlands. Fortunately I have never been there, but it is said that in the exact center of my continent, magic is so empowered that should someone manage to survive the journey there, one would become a living god. Of course, nobody ever came back alive from there to tell if such legend was true or not. Equally, most major industries are close to the coast, because the more to the center of the continent one journeys, more machinery becomes faulty. I bet it is not usual. There is some sorts of magical stones in the center of the continent which empower drastically magic. Ironically, it is also where most of the coal mines are located.

I am Yelena Praskovya, undecided dabbler into shifting periods of technological learning and conveyance magic practice. I came from the Socialist Republic of Soviet Steam, one of the four nations of Pangaea.

All this is quite different to me, strange in certain ways. Magic in my lands is usually very rare in places where danger is not present or immediate. In fact, when I came to a laboratory to the coast I almost forgot I was born with the curse, and I should have stayed there, as if so I would still be accepted in my homeland. Now, I am quite curious about your Empire of Warhaven and about this so called Xos' way. Could you give me a brief explanation of them?"

The third Yelena in this almost simultaneous conversation with three different people seemed like instantly shifting towards Marvel again, she seemed to be smiling to him, and particularly glad of how he dealt with the crow, still sparkling some few pints of electricity from its featherless skin. She looked at Marvel in an inquisitive, curious manner, pondering on a question she forgot to ask to him.

"Marvel, how did you get in here? Another emergency escape from some real trouble, like me, or did you come here for other reasons?"

Still beating the dust out of his jacket, with both hands and wings, the demon looked at Yelena through the little cloud that had formed around him. A chicken? he thought. Maybe Birdbrain has a future after all. He watched the wretched little beast as it slept. Sure enough, its feathers had already started regrowing. In an hour or two, he'd be his old obnoxious self--and probably a little hungry while he was at it.

"No accident this time, babe," he said, answering her question. "Yendor sent me. He wanted me to learn about magic systems other than his own.

"Didn't hear what I said a minute ago about different worlds having different laws of physics, did we?"

By now, he was back at the Magi-Lift. "'Scuse me," he said, sticking his hand in the thing, "gotta get cleaned up."

The levitation spell adapted to him pretty easily. He was avian by birth, so flying was nothing for him to be afraid of. He didn't even need to fit his whole body inside of the thing, and, the moment he saw his floor again, it took him there with breathtaking speed. And all he did all the way up was yell ecstatically, at the top of his lungs, "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"

Lerim smiled.
"Oh boy, here goes an epic story lecture." Hoyrel muttered as he moved off to explore the school, feeling his way along the walls.

"Ahem, well, Warhaven dates back to The First existence, to it's beggining. Those living Gods you spoke of, we had one as our leader, though he did not come from your land. I would first like to point out that it is also possible that some did make it there alive, but were so altered by the stones and magic, as to be unable to live on this particular plane of existence, or dimension. It is entirely likely they some of them still live somewhere. Of course, it's also possible I'm wrong, but I had to point out that other possible explaination. Now, onto the other things. First I'll start with Xos.

Xos was a powerful Wizard born during the first days of the first existence. He wasn't immortal, and infact died several times, each time being reincarnated in a process similar to, but diffrent from, traditional Buddihst teachings. Well, him and his nine closest friends, but he was the leader, he was the smartest, and most powerful. Xos loved to study the world around him, to find new ways to help his fellow man, and general just make life better. Sometimes he was a scientist, sometimes he was a wizard, but most curiously, he was always a magic user. I think it's because he followed The Omnisource. Anyways, during one of his lifetimes, he got the crazy notion to begin trying to marry science and magic. At first his experiments failed, sometimes disasterously. There is a fairy tale about the disaster of Chren-kato, it's not fictional, it really did happen. After that disaster, he discovered the greatest secrets of magic, which lead him from being an energy wizard, to an Omnimancer. Omnimancers weild every type of power without exception. It also lead him to discover that magic could also be explained by highly advanced theories involving Quantum Physics and Quantum Mechanics. I won't bore you with the science, needless to say even a lot of space faring socieities still have trouble with them. These discoveries enabled him to craft all sorts of things, and along the way, he transcended normal forms of existence, and began to exist solely as pure arcane energy.

These inventions can be seen all over Warhaven. One extracts fourteen times the energy from coal a normal plant can. There are many too numerous to exist, but I mention Coal specifically because you did.
Warhaven has used Magiscience for eons, and is spread over much of Andromeda Galaxy. They also have entered Fluidic Space. For most of Warhaven's history, it is the story of the battle of the Brothers, Warfare, who had ruled Warhaven since it's inception, and Kajeenith, the mad god of Darkness. Warfare had to use Magiscience, it was the only thing that could withstand Kajeenith. Everything else just failed. It wound up into The Final Battle of Ultimate destiny. But Kajeenith had the last laugh, and rules Warhaven now, he was ressurected. Warfare no longer exists.

Kajeenith is why Hoyrel and I are here. He isn't very receptive of the powers of his enemy, The Omnisource itself, and all the really good teachers are in hiding. Only Void mages exist with any real acceptance, because Tajen Darkson, Kajeenith's eldest and only child is Lord Emporer of Warhaven. Don't get me wrong, no one's exactly lacking for food or shelter, but society itself tends to opress those that don't conform to what the Emporer is. He does nothing to effect the situation, as though he were blind to it." Lerim said.

He tried to summon up a glass of water, but got flooded by an entire lakes worth of water that fell from the ceiling, and disappeared as it hit the floor.

"I guess I'm not thirsty anymore, anything specific you wanted to know about?" Lerim said spluttering.

Touching his clothes to dry them off, Joshua stepped toward Yelena. "I do believe we got off on the wrong foot, but I wish to apologize for that. Also, magic and science can work together in some worlds. Take Sylvonia as an example. I am clearly a being of magic and use it for nigh everything, however my arm is clearly a feat of technology. Magic bridges the gap between my nerves and the technology of the arm and my runic magic protects the arm from outside sources of interference. However, that's only in Sylvonia and apparently here as well. If I were to go to your land, that little work around probably wouldn't work. And thank you Lerim for that history lesson. It's always interesting to hear what others know for then we share knowledge and broaden our outlook on things."

Drai'lee stopped in mid stride, realising that she'd inadvertantly size changed and was without any clothes as well.

"Oh bother!" She snarled under her breath. Now she'd be stuck in human size for perhaps several days. Slapping Marvel for his - in her mind - not so accidental explosion - would have to wait - she wanted to have some real force behind it.

"Rosh, I'm sorry you're just going to have to sleep alone till I can get back down to size. That was the main reason she wanted to be able to use her human majik - to control her size, not have it pop up on it's own from time to time. And to give her wings at this size as well.

Snapping her fingers she clothed herswelf in one of her favorite outfits. Silk and satin, leather and lace...Though it just highlighted what Marvel had called the whole 'power over boy fae' thing. Though she didn't feel quite as comfortable without Rosh on her. She'd gotten rather used to him. Thankfully some of her Fae powers still worked when she was in human size.

OOC: Doesn't this just fit... (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jzpe1Rq6f3o) I think it's the bird...

Yelena never before has heard so many foreign words, "Buddhism", "Quantu-whatever" and lots of things she could not comprehend at all. In fact she never heard nothing even close to whatever they were meant to be. The only religions she was aware of were Slavic pagan religions and the orthodox Chirstianism, which strangely was never seen in this new world. Little of what Lerim told made any sense to her. And then some of the water splashed at her face, and she quickly shrugged in response. Looking at Lerim, she said something new. In a funny way, it seemed that no matter how perfect translation spells were, an accent was always left in the translation. It was almost stereotypical the manner her words came to his ears.

Another interesting thing is how she seemed to not have paid much attention to Drailee's previous predicament. Perhaps in respect for knowing how embarassing something like that is, or perhaps because something like that was weirdly normal where she came from. Although one of her eyes caught it from its corner, and she apparently did not avert it from that.

"My reflexes are not as good as when I was younger. But I am thirsty! Actually you are right on theoretical stuff. Knowing the principles of the law you are going to break makes it require less magical power to do so", she smiled at him, as suddenly a strong vapor began to form and compress in mid-air, as if something was pressurizing it. Yelena just ignored it for a while and said:

"Breaking the second law with low intensity in a limited area for more time is easier than doing it in high intensity in an wide area for a brief time. Now, I will be honest. I did not understand much of what you have told. As far as I know, there is no type of physics called "quantum physics", and I have no idea on what is "Buddhism", it is just too strange for me. What is reincarnation? You mean like... going back to life? That is impossible!... or at least not possible in my world. There is only one chance... and it is questionable as well. There is simply no afterlife, not naturally set by a deity. About the "living gods" I mentioned, it was a metaphor, because I believe there is no real god, just powerful beings who proclaim themselves gods, and depending on the level of ignorance, very little is required to convince others of believing. Also, I don't think there is an afterlife, at least not through natural or "by design" means.

Now, I guess I owe you to tell more about the motherland, would you be interested? We do not have second law of thermodynamics breaking coal plants, or galaxies, we just have our brains to use our limited resources in the best manner possible to support the proletariat and the progress of the revolution, and most of us believe technology is better than magic, and that magic inevitably creates inequality and divisions between the haves and have-nots of magical power. That is why it is banned where I came from, they refuse to consider they views wrong, or even to consider exceptions to their claims that all those born with magic will exploit it for selfish interests of becoming richer than everyone else and exploiting those who don't", with a clear sigh of sadness and frustration as she mentioned the manner how magic is treated in her nation. Somehow, perhaps the manner she spoke already said everything about where she came from.

"-- I would love to know more about how your grand empire have managed to achieve such feat, about your empire, and particularly, about how exactly it makes a impossible 'magical cannon' seems like a child's play"

"No," he said, shaking his head for a moment, "You would not. You do not want to know what I am talking about. Best would be to forget that I even mentioned anything."

He sighed sadly.

"Ignorance is bliss, and your best and only shield."

Mali raised an eyebrow at that statement. "But if ignorance is bliss, we're all about to be very depressed. This is a school of magic. Schools provide knowledge, which helps to eliminate ignorance and, according to you, bliss as well."

Yelena never before has heard so many foreign words, "Buddhism", "Quantu-whatever" and lots of things she could not comprehend at all. In fact she never heard nothing even close to whatever they were meant to be. The only religions she was aware of were Slavic pagan religions and the orthodox Chirstianism, which strangely was never seen in this new world. Little of what Lerim told made any sense to her. And then some of the water splashed at her face, and she quickly shrugged in response. Looking at Lerim, she said something new. In a funny way, it seemed that no matter how perfect translation spells were, an accent was always left in the translation. It was almost stereotypical the manner her words came to his ears.

Another interesting thing is how she seemed to not have paid much attention to Drailee's previous predicament. Perhaps in respect for knowing how embarassing something like that is, or perhaps because something like that was weirdly normal where she came from. Although one of her eyes caught it from its corner, and she apparently did not avert it from that.

"My reflexes are not as good as when I was younger. But I am thirsty! Actually you are right on theoretical stuff. Knowing the principles of the law you are going to break makes it require less magical power to do so", she smiled at him, as suddenly a strong vapor began to form and compress in mid-air, as if something was pressurizing it. Yelena just ignored it for a while and said:

"Breaking the second law with low intensity in a limited area for more time is easier than doing it in high intensity in an wide area for a brief time. Now, I will be honest. I did not understand much of what you have told. As far as I know, there is no type of physics called "quantum physics", and I have no idea on what is "Buddhism", it is just too strange for me. What is reincarnation? You mean like... going back to life? That is impossible!... or at least not possible in my world. There is only one chance... and it is questionable as well. There is simply no afterlife, not naturally set by a deity. About the "living gods" I mentioned, it was a metaphor, because I believe there is no real god, just powerful beings who proclaim themselves gods, and depending on the level of ignorance, very little is required to convince others of believing. Also, I don't think there is an afterlife, at least not through natural or "by design" means.

Now, I guess I owe you to tell more about the motherland, would you be interested? We do not have second law of thermodynamics breaking coal plants, or galaxies, we just have our brains to use our limited resources in the best manner possible to support the proletariat and the progress of the revolution, and most of us believe technology is better than magic, and that magic inevitably creates inequality and divisions between the haves and have-nots of magical power. That is why it is banned where I came from, they refuse to consider they views wrong, or even to consider exceptions to their claims that all those born with magic will exploit it for selfish interests of becoming richer than everyone else and exploiting those who don't", with a clear sigh of sadness and frustration as she mentioned the manner how magic is treated in her nation. Somehow, perhaps the manner she spoke already said everything about where she came from.

"Buddhisim, you should be able to find information on in the library, or online. The others, well, their difficult to understand to begin with, and I suspect that most people who pretend to understand them, really don't.

I'm not going to lie, there are those who exploit those without magic, more than I'd care to admit exist. Happily, they also somehow manage to get what's coming to them, well, most of them, The Ministry of Shadow has never gotten what's coming to it." Lerim said. He tried to change his clothes, and succeeded, but not in the fashion he desired. He only wanted some of his own dry clothes, but his spell backfired, and he found himself in a dress, a little, black, strapless dress. He had very nice legs, if only they weren't so harry.

"Umm, let me try that again." Lerim said, blushing. He tried again, and this time around, he was in a t-shirt and jeans. He had a nice physique, and was very easy to look at. Why, he was almost Eye Candy.

"Better, but not what I had in mind, oh well." Lerim said.

"But if ignorance is bliss, we're all about to be very depressed. This is a school of magic. Schools provide knowledge, which helps to eliminate ignorance and, according to you, bliss as well."

"Yes, yes. But there is a state where you know too much for your own good. For anybody's good. There are certain magics, certain pieces of information which are best left unseen, unused. I speak of things which come with a terrible price."

He sighed again.

"Maybe I should have said that SELECTIVE ignorace is bliss so as to reduce the chances of a misunderstanding. I did not mean that knowing nothing is a good thing - I meant that not knowing certain things is."

In this room, Marvel could have simply wished himself clean and it would have happened. He knew this. But the room responded to the dweller's wishes, so he had set himself up with a nice, big jaccusi with nice, hot water.

Being still a hellspawn, Marvel preferred the water at around 60 degrees celsius--far hotter than most other humanoids, winged or not, could tollerate. To Marvel, though, it was almost--for lack of a better term--like heaven. He still hadn't managed to get himself a fridge full of beer and a cute Modified Red Gargoyle babe or two to enjoy the gentle massage of the little jets, but he had time. The babes would be the hard part. There weren't any babes of his kind yet, and he was afraid of what his body could do to the other kinds of babes, modified though it was. Before he was modified, before he knew about it, it had killed a human girl who was very dear to him. He wasn't going to put himself through something like that again. He couldn't take the chance.

Maybe somewhere down the line he'd be able to have a dorm party and get some friends in the tub. That was for later.

For now, Marvel just decided that he wanted to relax for a few minutes and let the rest of the world solve its own problems. He closed his eyes and leaned back.

Yelena shrugged in the manner that the purple robed man replied. He was clearly trying to use other words to disguise the obvious fact he had something very significant to hide from everyone there for a reason. The same words were also said once by her own father, when she asked, when younger, what happened when she was just a child that shocked everybody and he refused to explain. In the end, it have been only worser for her to be kept ignorant of her own "curse" for so much time. She had some really bad moments with magic, but nothing close to her nightmarish state of absolute suffering while she became between life and death in an hospital, affected both by the diseases of the unhealthy smog of factories and by the sting of a spider which became twisted and mutated by the harsh manner man has changed his environment in the name of progress. She could only sleep through medications, and the pain was a constant for all that time. It was what has finally led her to stray away from science and follow the path of magic for the first time. It was so long ago and yet seemed to be yesterday, for suffering seems easier to remember than good moments for her.

Thus in many ways, all or most that Yelena has suffered through her entire life could be attribute to her ignorance of certain facts. She pondered for a while into openly claiming that such suspicious purple robed individual had something to hide that would not be tolerated in a place like it, and it seemed that, the sense of decay coming from Ivan faded as he came farther from this mysterious man. Yelena suspected that he was a sort of necromancer, or perhaps worse, but she would rather keep her suspicions to herself for now, and playing dumb, she replied to the man in purple robes, with the translation adding a picturesque Russian accent to her spoken words.

"Ignorance is the greatest curse. The ignorant are easy prey for the knowledgeable, no matter how harsh and unforgiving the truth or a knowledge is, those who know it will always be at advantage against those who don't. Thanks to ignorance the worst tyrants stood in power unchallenged for millennia, murderers have lived without any justice ever done against them, the poor or ignorant have become almost slaves of the rich or smart. I see no way, no matter what, that ignorance could be a bliss. In fact, I would not be hunted like an animal in my own homeland if it was devoid of any form of ignorance. I would not lose my own arm if I was fully aware of the nature of the magical land I warped into once, and neither I would suffer yet again to the point of even being tortured to near-death if I was aware of what lied beyond the foggy horizon of a certain portal. Nor I would almost die of starvation, or be here right now, away from my family and friends.

Perhaps the question his is not the bliss of ignorance, but the power that comes from keeping one's knowledge to oneself. Nobody would tell to others the location of a gold mine only he knows, just like nobody would tell to others something that gives him power over others, and nobody would ever tell something that would compromise his own image and reputation to others. Thus knowledge is power, and ignorance is weakness, and as a man once said, the strong have the capability of predating the weak if they wish to. There is no cost higher than the loss of being ignorant, whether ignorance is selective or not. Knowledge is more than power, without knowledge, one cannot ever manage to be truly free", she said, as a quite implicit questioning on the reasons for that strange man to be there, and probably on his morals. Hopefully she could corner him into showing a bit of whatever sinister truth about his nature was being hidden. Yelena so far has not demonstrated that she actually disliked such man, although that could change soon.

OOC: One last post, then I'm off.

IC: The trio of Sylvonians applauded for a brief moment upon hearing Yelena. "You are absolutely correct in saying all that about ignorance." Joshua stated, beaming at her.
"Knowledge is the reason we're here too. Knowledge eliminates barriers between cultures and bridges people together too." Mali said.
Zena just grinned at Yelena's words, glad that someone finally put him in his place. "And I'm sorry, but choosing not to know something is choosing to limit your own power. Now if someone chooses what to keep from you, you can almost assume that they have a reason for hiding it. It may be a good reason, such as not wanting to bring back painful memories. Or it could be a bad reason, like trying to keep power for themselves rather than helping others."

Thinking now was a good time to see exactly how much of her Fae magery was available to her Khat and Drai'lee slipped away to their chosen room. It had made itself comfortable to both of their tastes they noted.

Khat, until a few years ago had been a quintessential 'homeless' - he had no memory of a past before waking up mostly grown, ill, injujred ans starving in the back alleys of Blackmarsh. Sime then he'd been 'adopted' by several people whom he kept in loose contact with, they becomeing his closest freinds. Drai'lee he'd met through Lady Shalamar of Cats Keep, who had idintefied his rare and long thought vanished race. She had also identified his primary innate ability, that of being an anchor. He'd only needed to fine tune that ability, but his majical potential was beyond her ability to train, though she had given him memory crystals - for use in recording the instructors lectures -to augument his already nearly perfect memory.

Though it hadn't been openly said he was also Drai'lee's bodyguard, though he was pretty sure she had not yet guessed that.

His portion of the room was simple with a round bowl of a bed that floated off of the ground and had richly painted curtains for extra privacy. The curtains showed an ocean scene (http://www.mikelevin.com/SunsetWaveSpray.jpg), a sunset in deep purples and blues. The bed soft linens echoed the colors. An an immense window looked out over the forests and a thickly cushioned divan stretched beneath it. The walls were of riverstone and the ceiling and floor of polished woods.

Drai'lee's was vastly different. Her walls were smoothly plastered and either white or deepest crimson, with black laquer furnishings. A dramatic painting of white orchids (http://www.atddm.com/bdrm9.jpg) hung above the bed which was draped with fine, translucent white draperies. The floor was smoothly polished stone, and light flooded the room from what seeemed to be a [/url=http://www.atddm.com/glen1.jpg]grove of massive trees[/url] with a chuckling stream tumbling though it...The room was thusly flooded with fresh breeze and the song of birds and insects...

But it was the bathroom that was truly elaborate... one should never give a Fae a room that one shouldn't expect to taken to the inth degree. So let us just say that it ws unbridled hedonism.

Hoyrel meanwhile had managed the most extrordinary of feats, he had gotten trapped in a small room on the other side of a one way door.

"Hello?" he called, trapped in the small closet like room. It was completly empty, and he hadn't the faintest idea what it was for.

He banged on the walls.

Unfortunatly, not a sound was made on the otherside of the door, nor into any of the surrounding areas, for this was a room where exceptionally naughty students were kept if they misbehaved to a life threatening but not quite world threatening degree, a sort of extreme time-out coupled with a prison sentence. As such, only an instructor or the headmaster could let Hoyrel out, not even another student or the Imps could open that door.

"Hello?" Hoyrel called out again.

He had found an open doorway, and thinking it was a hallway or a stairwell, wandered inside, that was when the nice imp who helped him earlier's meaner bigger cousin shut the door behind him and locked it with his special imp magic.

"Hello? I'd like to come out of the box now!" Hoyrel called out again banging on the walls and the door.

Poor Hoyrel, of course, the mean imp had done it because Hoyrel had accidentally smacked his cousin with his cane, and the mean imp did not understand, yet, what it was like to be without sight.

"You amuse me," he said, grinning, "Let me quench some of your undying curiosity with an example, then, child."

He extended his right hand outwards to his right.

"I could easily tell you everything, but that would not be prudent. Thus, I shall not. Ignorance, in some matters, is bliss. As we learned so many aeons ago in our endless quest for knowledge and power."

Lightning combined with something which looked like its pitch black counterpart began to emanate from his hand. Oddly enough, it seemed to be contained, and did not move close to anyone.

"You see, we used to think much like you do back then. We thought that knowledge was the answer to all, and ignorance was but an obstacle to be overcome. In all things. We became arrogant. We thought nothing could hold us... And we were quite wrong."

The lightning now occupied the space of some one and a half meters and he was adjusting its position in accordance as to not hit anything with it.

"'Tortured to near death', you say? You are lucky. Just away from your friends and family? You are, indeed, lucky. I am not saying you do not deserve sympathy, nor that your life has been fair, but... It could be a lot worse."

At this point, a sword materialized in his hand. It was pitch black, covered in some kind of unholy runes. It reeked of death and emitted a slight aura of darkness. He placed it so that its crossguard touched his chest, looked intently at it, and then lowered it.

"Do you see this sword? It kills those who touch it. Immortal, mortal, it does not matter. If you are truly alive and touch it, you die."

His expression became dead serious.

"It even kills its wielder. Same rules apply."

"If you want proof of its effectiveness, we could go outside and I could demonstrate its powers by killing, say, an age old tree or some kind of animal in the woods, by simply touching it with the sword. Although I would prefer sending this abomination back whence it came as soon as possible. It is too dangerous to keep it here for very long. Its owner is bound to notice its disappearance soon enough... And I do not want it to cause anyone's death here."

Yelena seemed particularly not scared at all about that dark sword that emanated from that mysterious individual. Particularly, she was apparently quite relaxed, although she was not stupid enough to check whether the man's claims were true or not by touching the sword. Looking at him, she quickly replied to his claims:

"First, I am not a child. Second, what creates arrogance is not knowledge itself, but the inequality of knowledge between people that the lack of free flow of information creates, for no arrogance can come from knowing that everyones knows the same than you, therefore arrogance can only come from ignorance one is too proud to admit, not from knowledge. Also, as you said your people thought nothing could hold you, then that was not due to knowledge, but due to ignorance of the truth about such arrogant thought.

And yes, my curiousity is limited by my rationale, but despite it, it still is... undying", she said with a large emphasis given to the last word, reinforcing the accent through which it came in an almost comical manner.

Now, the logic of a sword that kill any alive being was quite broken, superficially. For who would be the owner of something that kills all that is alive? There were either two possibilities Yelena could think of with her experience in her own homeland. Either this owner was some sort of sentient automaton gone rogue, something scientifically impossible, or a very powerful vampire, for technically vampires were not really alive. Although her view of vampires was quite different from that. From what legends told they were unsophisticated carrion drinkers who watch from afar battles, and during night came to cowardly drink the blood of the wounded, or in most cases the still flesh blood of the recently dead. They were nomads as far as the legends said, and never had developed any sort of science of magic by themselves, living as parasites of the battlefields. Perhaps, Yelena pondered, there were more than just vampires of beings which although moving, are not truly dead.

Finally she replied to the man:

"Any weapon if misused can kill its wielder, the difference is that this one is like a blade sharpened in all sides, coated in poison and with no hilt. Now, there is no sense in a living being to possess such sword. This leaves only one possibility, that either its owner is a vampire, for vampires, even though they walk, think, and feed on the blood of the war, are not naturally alive. Or maybe, there are other sorts of creatures I am not aware of. And we do not need to go outside, I have... other means to prove or disprove your claims."

The still wounded crow was lain unconsciously on a corner of the floor.
"This being is unnaturally sentient, and this is not the first I had to get rid of either. But this one not only is a pest, but an annoying talking bird as well. He was too ignorant to consider the consequences of the manner he mocked my dignity, and almost managed to kill me. Please, do not judge me for this worthless piece of feathers and bones"

Before the crow could react, Yelena shoved it towards the blade, using nothing besides her own magical capabilities. And thus it quickly had its fate sealed, as she, instead of feeling pity from killing such creature, was clearly delighted to have such murderous nuisance eliminated. With a large smile in her face, not only for the crow, but for her suspicions to be getting closer to the truth than ever, and for the fact that now the reason for such man to be so secretive was becoming clearer. Yelena looked back at the mysterious man and said, with now it becoming clear why she emphasized the word "undying":

"A tree does not deserve to die, and this would be quicker anyway. Now, perhaps it would be wiser to put it back to its owner... and perhaps, I wonder how you have managed to get your hands into something which is very likely to belong to an undead, if the knowledge of the reason is not too much of an inconvenience to be told, because few of the living ones deal with the supposed to be dead. Some are brave adventurers who raid tombs for profit, others are the necromancers who know the language of the dead and speak with them, and finally, there are a few who serve the vampires in my land, thus it is only logical there are those who loyally serve other sorts of undeads as well. And I really hope you are the first"

Before he could say anything, a large thunderstorm came from apparently nowhere, hitting Yelena right on her head, although strangely she did not wince, or fell. She only seemed to be quite queasy, and looking at the oculus of the tower, Yelena shrugged and muttered something on how a crow was so annoying that not even after his death he would leave her in peace. That was just a few moments after several electric lightnings came from her body towards all directions, and she gasped for a while, until finally vanishing from sight.

As her eyes adjusted to the view of the new location she, in an apparently random manner, teleported to, Yelena noticed she was right across a door in somewhere she never found before, and even more important, she was feeling somewhat, electric. Looking at it, she wondered why she was feeling some sort of presence beyond it. However a single thought has kept her mind too busy to focus on that door, for whenever she remembered of the vampires, Yelena always wondered whether science or magic would be the first to give true clinical immortality, and whether the legends about immortals who are not undead were true or not. It was one of her deepest secrets, that behind all her idealism, there was a goal which was much more significant than anything else for her, perhaps an ignorant delusion of grandeur, or perhaps only claimed to be impossible due to ignorance: to achieve true immortality as a living being.

Taking her way through the place, it did not take much for her to return to the main hall, she was not sure on how she would be addressed after what she has spoken and done, but soon she looked for Marvel, and not finding him, she decided to take the skyway towards the top, to look for the apparent director of that place, known as Eldrad from the conversations she listened. Something very noticeable of the plain dressed Russian woman coming to him was how she seemed to demonstrate no shyness or problem to ask him, nor to address him with aggrandizing titles. Yelena simply looked at the focused man, guessing he knew she have come already, and said, as another goal of her was reminded again.

"Eldrad, I seek to understand deeper my own capabilities. I cannot use magic from textbooks or grimoires, only from my own will. It has developed naturally, thus I am not sure if there is much I could be taught, for all my journey has been of self-learning of my own nature, rather than of learning the spells created by others. I have a quite understanding of how magic can change space and movement, but... I will be open about it. Can time also be manipulated? If so, I would be interested to know if there is anyone here who could develop my innate rather than learned capabilities to this new approach. I believe space and time are intimately related to each other, but I cannot find a way to channel my capabilities on time. They always have been only limited on space and movement, but there must be a bridge to time somewhere in space. Could you or someone help me to find it and attune it to my... peculiar means of magic?

Also, I sensed a presence behind a door in this place that is like...", she said as well, describing the place where the one-way door was located at.

As Yelena disappeared, the man grinned again.

"There was one more thing I was going to do after that to prove how the weapon acts without a shadow of a doubt... Hmph. I guess you may bear witness to it in her stead. You saw what this sword, this Sun Slayer, did to her crow."

He quickly grabbed the blade of the sword with his left hand, even letting it draw blood, showing somewhat conclusively that he wasn't just some automaton. After doing thus, he took his right hand off the sword's hilt and grabbed the blade with it as well.

"I think this should amply prove the fact that this sword fails to end my existence, whilst a simple touch did end the life of that bird."

After having done thus, the sword suddenly faded out from view and disappeared.

"This is as far as I will go," said the man peacefully, "It is better for me to not tell more. Better for everyone involved. Although... I will say this: I am no vampire."

Kyle chose his room, a smallish chamber containing a desk, a bed, and a book shelf full of books, all ones he had pulled out of his packs. He placed his clothes in the closet smelling faintly of cedar and checked out the bathroom.

Marcus on the other hand did not have a collection of books to line up on shelves. He only had some meager clothes to hand in his closet. After emptying his pack, he placed it on the floor of the closet and turned to investigate the other room. When he opened the door, he was amazed at the shining metal piping and the spigots sticking out of the wall. He reached out and turned one of them and water began to flow into a basin standing about waist high. Noticing a cork stopper on the edge of the basin, he placed it in the drain and watched as the sink began to fill. His marvel at indoor plumbing would only increase as he noticed the tub/shower. After experimenting with the tub, he turned around and noticed the sink would only fill so full before the water went elsewhere, handy to keep it from overflowing. After completely exploring the bathroom, Marcus exited his room.

“How do they get the water to come out of the wall both hot and cold? And why to they have water in the funny chair?"

---

Galvenor was still standing in the center of the amber shaft of golden light. The pillar of light was easily 20 meters across and he was standing there ever so quietly so it was understood why nobody noticed him. He watched the newcomers as they interacted with each other and explored their new rooms. When they were done he knew they would gather around him to continue the tour upwards to the next level.

Hoyrel managed to free himself. The story of how he got out was quite interesting too, however no one knows that story. It did however involve a hole in the universe, a guitar, a sitar, a blade of grass, and no less than three women.

Now Hoyrel was making his way along the tower, and had made such a circut, that he was approaching the elevator from the back side.

He got on, and stopped, right where the projection of Galvenor was. He couldn't read minds, but he could feel powerful ones.

"Woah, it feels like there's a whole other person here with me. Gnarly." He said.

Completely cleaned up, and now wearing an augh black t-shirt under smoke-beige pants and jacket, with his wings and tail poking out, Marvel stepped back out of his room. He was making his final status check as he did. He paused for a moment.

"Hair," he said softly, "check. Teeth: check. Body: check. Tail: check. Wings: check. Digestion..."

He let out a thunderous belch, followed by a loud fart.

"Check. Guess I can go back and rejoin the party."

Smiling his sociable smile again, he went back to the lift and returned to the procession.

"Eldrad, I seek to understand deeper my own capabilities. I cannot use magic from textbooks or grimoires, only from my own will. It has developed naturally, thus I am not sure if there is much I could be taught, for all my journey has been of self-learning of my own nature, rather than of learning the spells created by others. I have a quite understanding of how magic can change space and movement, but... I will be open about it. Can time also be manipulated? If so, I would be interested to know if there is anyone here who could develop my innate rather than learned capabilities to this new approach. I believe space and time are intimately related to each other, but I cannot find a way to channel my capabilities on time. They always have been only limited on space and movement, but there must be a bridge to time somewhere in space. Could you or someone help me to find it and attune it to my... peculiar means of magic?

Also, I sensed a presence behind a door in this place that is like...", she said as well, describing the place where the one-way door was located at.


"You ask many questions, and yet seem to know many of the answers before you ask them," replied the old Eldar, "This is a trait common amongst many of those who are self-taught in the ways of magick, even more so amongst those whose talents are naturally occuring."

He paused for a moment before answering her question regarding time, "You are correct in your suggestion that time and space are not seperate things, but rather they are interwoven, like the threads of a rope. Most people do not understand time... they assume that it is simply a linear progression of cause to effect... observe."

He extended his arm in front of him, and drew a shimmering blue line in the air, "This is how most people percieve time. But, from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, time is more like a ball. It loops back on itself, links between events that are seemingly hundred or maybe thousands of years apart occur where one does not expect them. To understand this is to understand the nature of time. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Ten Dimension theory?"

"Check. Guess I can go back and rejoin the party."

"Uggh Marvel that is just soo gross! You have no couth!" Drai'lee exclaimed as she rushed though the stench Marvel had left behind. Khat just scowled at the demon and held his breath while passing though.

"Woah, it feels like there's a whole other person here with me. Gnarly."

"Well it looks like you are standing in Master Galvenor, so there might be" Drai'lee called, over hearing his comment.

Zena rolled her eyes. "Appearances can be decieving. It seems to me that he's standing next to Galvenor though he's got enough contact with Galvenor to simulate standing in him."

So many new concepts were, despite her brilliance, getting too complicated for Yelena's mind to take on. She was still pondering on the strange concepts Lerim has told her about some implausible sort physics or about some sort of religion she has never heard about before. That world seemed to be very strange, and there was only one thing she could remember about, the history of the events surrounding the transfer of her nation from Russia to its new land. Looking at Eldrad, Yelena wondered about which sort of culture had humans which remained skinny on purpose and mutilated their own ears to make them look pointy. The possibility that Eldrad was not human could not pass through her mind for some reason. Ignoring those thoughts, she looked at him to reply to his question.

"I hope you do not mind Eldrad, but I would rather explain more of what I have seen, read and listened before replying to your question. My father told me he and all of his friends lived in a place called Russia before, then suddenly they simply saw all surrounding lands twisting around. Almost as if our entire nation has been teleported to another planet, and more than you could imagine: entire cities, their infrastructure, roads, houses, farms, personal belongings. I would say that probably there would be only a massive crater or alike where it came from. In Russia, or in Earth for the matter, there was no magic at all besides some occultism groups who only believed they could manipulate the world through their will, but as soon as my relatives unwillingly came through such new world, some of them began to manifest involuntary magical proclivities. It was difficult for us. Most have demonstrated both surprise and fear, but before they knew their enemies, it was somewhat tolerated. I guess my family had a natural predisposition to magic, but as our existence was before in a world devoid of magic, it was impossible to manifest.

I cannot understand our enemies, on why they, instead of having exotic, unknown cultures and languages, are basically different cultural facets of our own people, despite being in an entirely different world from Russia. The kingdom of Yaga is nothing more than a sort of paganized Tzarist Russia without an Orthodox Church. In fact, my father said once her mother told him about the Baba Yaga, but it was nothing more than a fairy-tale in Earth. It seems almost like as if the world we came to is made of beliefs rather than matter. In fact, the closer you get to the heart of the skeptic Soviet Steam people and their cities, more magic become fickle, until becoming nonexistent, and the more closer you get to the center of the continent, more magic becomes powerful. The Theocracy of Perun on the other hand is nothing but a clear manifestation of the feudal remains of our nation culture, yet there is no sense. Their inhabitants, are like us, speak like us, but we are in a permanent war, for ideas and beliefs, superficially between revolution and reaction, progress and conservatism, tradition and innovation, faith and skepticism. That is our reality, and so far, magic has been mostly an enemy of our nation rather than an ally"

Taking a deep breath, Yelena somehow have had some sort of idea brewing in her mind from all she spoke, and almost immediately continued explaining:

"I believe my people live beyond the realm of mere flesh... somehow, perhaps we have all died but cannot remember, although that would be a bit weird. We live in a world which existence is deeply linked with beliefs, our beliefs. Things that would never work in Earth work there. Except for their intolerance on magic, the Republic is excellent. It is a place without starvation or misery, without injustice and privilege. Exactly because of that they disdain magic, for they consider it a privilege, for in my world, only few can develop magic, as there is no means of using magic there besides awakened innate capabilities."

Perhaps it made sense. The major reform, the restoration of freedom to the people, the abolition of Gulags, the democratization of the Soviets. All happened right after they entered such new land. It has brought many problems to the Socialist Republic, but somehow this new world have turned Soviet Steam away from the path of eventually becoming a failed utopia. Now it was time to reply the answer:

"I think I know seven dimensions. They are length, width, height, time, ideas, antithesis and synthesis. I find it confusing how could there be ten dimensions. Antithesis is the dimension of opposition to all dimensions, from physical to mental dimensions, while synthesis is a single line, which bends all dimensions, thesis and antithesis, into a new one. Hegel has understood how such process happens with ideas in his dialectic, however, it is valid not only with ideas, but with physical dimensions as well, where thesis and antithesis form the synthesis, and eventually everything merges into a single line we cannot perceive. Neither of these are on our direct reach, unless perhaps through magical means. Now which are the other three dimensions?"

"Uggh Marvel that is just soo gross! You have no couth!" Drai'lee exclaimed as she rushed though the stench Marvel had left behind. Khat just scowled at the demon and held his breath while passing though.

"Don't say I never gave you anything!" the demon replied with a smirk as he reached the lift-a-magic. Truth was, he'd done that there so he wouldn't have to do it in the middle of a crowd. He had no idea at the time that Fae Babe was going to horn in on the territory.

He got back to everyone else just as Yelena finished her speech--and he was thankful that he hadn't been around to listen to the whole thing. Wow, that babe was wordy! He'd heard her from three floors up!

But that was OK. She was talking to Oldbag, and Oldbag was giving the tour. Of course, he would never call Oldbag that to his face, so Oldbag would never find out that this was the name that Marvel was using for him in the demon's twisted little mind, but that only made it all the more fun. Besides, "Oldbag" sounded a lot like "Eldrad" anyway.

So Marvel just basically stood at semi-attention, hiding the smirk on his face, and waited for the next leg of the tour to begin.

-----------------------

OOC: No offense meant to Snake Eaters or any of his characters. Marvel's just very petty and small-minded in some ways.

Marcus not getting his question answered simply shrugged and decided to wait where some of the others were already gathering, shortly followed by Kyle. One by one, they each in turn stepped into the faint amber light and walked upon the columns of magic to the center where the others were.

Joshua, Mali, and Zena looked to each other and nodded in silent agreement. They walked toward the amber light and took it to meet Galvenor.

Lerim made his way over and pulled Hoyrel over to stand next to him, ready to continue the tour.