[Location] Toherro's Dark Teachings and Prayers

[Magrand Black]

What did Aribeal think he was, some sort of fool? He knew that such paltry levels of power hardly accounted to battle magery—it was nigh-impossible for him to cast anywhere near a combat, and to be completely honest, it was pointless. What could an initiate do in combat that couldn’t be achieved through employment of his more mundane capabilities? A swift stab… or a crossbow bolt between the eyes. Both were easy, both were fatal and both were brutally effective. The only thing he found his meagre arcane skills good for was surprise and preparation. There they shined.

But the time for preparation had past, and the element of surprise never was, and Magrand still needed to kill this drunken fool with necromancy. Aribeal had made it that much more difficult. The only really obvious way to go about doing this was to knock Sagah out first—or at least cripple him to the point of helplessness. Both involved the same train of thought, and both wouldn’t prove to be much of a difficulty. This was not the first time Magrand has killed—by Jorel, it wasn’t even the tenth. But the first time to have killed someone with necromancy, well… maybe. He wasn’t quite certain, (the fae might not have died for certain) but in a few minutes, he would be.

Humility had never been his strong suit—and lucky enough for him, neither had weakness. He had lived for this long for a reason—not by making stupid assumptions like that he had made there. Why didn’t Aribeal keep the fool in his place? Really, it didn’t change anything, so there was no point dwelling on it. Instead, he had to find a way to subdue Sagah without running the risk of killing him, and without getting beat himself. Fun.

Lucky for him, he had an ace up his sleeve, and he was damned well going to use it. So long as Aribeal didn’t disapprove, of course. And most likely, he wouldn’t. No, it was a rare necromancer who was steadfastly opposed to having one of their own use every method at their disposal to win. Holding back was stupid in their choice of lifestyle. Magrand only hoped that he was right. Once again, he began to speak but this time he took a ready stance, with left hand outstretched to lead, and right in close—his power and the source of his confidence. His ace was up that sleeve, and he was ready to use it.

“Do you really believe that Master Aribeal will let you live if you do defeat me? Do you? Sagah, if you surrender yourself, you die quickly. But, if you feel like proving difficult… well, attack me… and you will suffer. Choose.”

Of course Magrand figured that his quarry wouldn’t cave in, just like that. But it did take the attention off of the positioning of his hands… so that this time, it would be the Sagah who didn't see him coming, and not the other way around. Then he could simply drop him, slit his tendons, and finish him off. Simple.

[Dragon]

Surely an initiate didn't have so much of an advantage in battle or fight which was open. Surely a swordsman didn't have that much of an advantage sitting in a pit with a bowman aiming at him from above. That however didn't mean they were still suppose to act the foolish way and rely on their friends to save them. A swordsman would climb out and then strike, just like an initiate might hide and then cast. There was a lot one could do if he used his skills wisely, instead of simply relying on things to be made easy for him. For this was necromancy where things were not made easy. It was not some Thoumathurgy where there rarely was a rush and even there life depended on the caster.

Aribeal had enough reasons to not keep Sagah trapped, for one he said nothing about holding the drunkard in his place, he just told Magrand to kill him. But Aribeal decided to be quiet. Maybe things would unfold as they would go on. As Magrand took a hold of his blade, Aribeal tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. He had said clearly that Magrand should kill the dracon with arcana. So now he hoped that everything would be done properly. He had faith in the diantar initiate and hoped that he was not mistaken by having that.

"Ma-aaster will let me go, if I... hick... finish you off first." Sagah mumbled in an answer to the words of the dracon who had bought him drinks just a few minutes ago. He could have sworn that he saw Magrand moving and closing in on him. The view however was so unclear and moved to the sides so much that it was as clear as on a ship in a stormy darkening with a fog. The last flash he saw was Magrand's snout right next to him as the necromancer charged on him.

"Jorel d-damn you!" Sagah struggled under Magrand but with little power and soon the blade cut through his tendons in a few places, sending the dracon into screams of fear and pain. "Careful now." Aribeal whispered silently to himself, watching Magrand getting so close to completing the task but just as well at the brink of failing if one incorrect move would be made. Sagah was now more or less powerless, it was quite doubtful that he would be able to get up with the drinks in his head and the pain in his body, so in a way he was now Magrand's toy.

[Magrand Black]

Assumption had been the downfall of many an opportunist, but for Magrand it had been but a speedbump on his path to further his power. Lucky for him, Sagah had been unarmed and unwilling to use the assets that he did have to full effect. Magrand, however, knew the price of incompetence, and he was prepared. Moving with a serpentine grace, the apprentice aspirant felt only a bit of resistance as his dagger slid through his quarry’s tendons. Even if Sagah got out of this alive, which was an almost unfathomable concept, he would never walk again.

Even still, there was little time to waste. Already inky black ichors were gushing out of the terrible wounds inflicted by Magrand’s dagger, and he wouldn’t last forever. Granted, he should remain alive long enough for Magrand to finish with his finale. Sure, Magrand had struck a tender location, but the strike wasn’t aimed to be a lethal one and Sagah’s downright drunkenness should keep his blood flow down for long enough for Magrand to land the final straw.

And so he tried again for clara, beginning his descent promptly after recovering from his initial physical onslaught. But in the actual action, well, he was thorough, patient and calm. Arcana was not a thing to be rushed if one could help it, particularly when wielded by an initiate, and the consequences could be dire. Aribeal would likely flay his hide if Sagah died prematurely, and he didn’t want that. The necromancer would show him pain that he couldn’t even imagine, or enslave his soul in the afterlife, or… he didn’t want to think about it, but in the few moments that he did, it only fed his power. After all, fear only fuelled the fires of necromancy, along with a multitude of other emotions and he could not deny the power that the end product granted to those who wielded it.

With that same essence of the darker side of his being, Magrand drew upon the ara surrounding him, twisting it with his own vis into something vile and undeniable. Pure hate, fear and cruelty poured into his creation, while his consciousness imparted it with the essence of sizzling acid. Already he could feel the acrid concoction fill his senses, both emptying his essence of strength of mind and filling him with resolve. He would succeed, and Sagah would die. Painfully. Before long, the acid orb will have formed as a product of his mind’s labour, and when it did, Magrand would direct it straight at Sagah’s chest. The head would have been more effective… but that effectiveness would be unnecessary. The dracon was already wounded, and chest strike would be enough to end his miserable existence for good.

[Dragon]

OOC: Whoosh you go out of this thread and into your new one since you completed the task and are getting training

[Urck]

ooc: Continued from here. Selene- Putting us both together is fine with me as long as Amber doesn't have any problems with it and I'm guessing that you've read my PM. I did make one minor bunny at the end in assuming that Amber does actually enter but if she doesn't then I'll just edit that part out

IC: Urck warily entered the kitchen, not understanding why the vysstichi had not simply told him what he had to say in the main area of the tavern rather then sending him into the back kitchen for some soup that had nothing to do with anything. Perhaps it was some secret meeting spot of the dark elves where he told his secret but that apparent answer only brought him back to the same question. Why not tell him out there? It all seemed very suspicious to the oddly observant green-skin. It was no secret that necromancy training was not rare in Vortex with a vysstichi city lying below it, he had even heard that the thane himself seemed to tolerate practitioners of the dark arts. Yet this undying secrecy had him wondering, bringing a million questions into the orc's sharp mind as he made his way to the chef. The possibilities, as always seemed endless and Urck sincerely did not enjoy not knowing what was going to happen. What if that bartender is a necromancer and he is going to give my men training? The orc thought. Perhaps he had underestimated just how common necromancers were and even common bartenders were so adept in it that they could teach themselves. But then, why had he been sent to a kitchen of all places? Further bringing out Urck's curiosity was the fact that none of the kitchen workers seemed overly concerned, or even surprised for that matter, that an orc and two human companions had just entered their kitchen, each one dressed for combat. Nobody even paid any real attention to him and his allies, as if it was normal for patrons to enter the usual 'staff only' cooking area.

He approached the head chef and inquired about fregat soup, expecting to be met with a blank stare. Instead he found that it was though the chef knew exactly what was going on already. As if people always came in and asked for items that were not even on the menu. And then there was that gleam in the dracon's eye's that the observant orc could not miss. It was that gleam combined with the other seemingly unanswerable questions that Urck had that caused him to hesitate and linger near the dracon a while longer, narrowing his black eyes once more. His brutish instincts begged him to cease this endless charade and simply throttle the dracon for answers. And how much he would have loved to! However, he had not lived, or rather thrived, all these years catering to his natural instincts and so it was not hard for him to push those thoughts away with a wall of willpower. But he still did not enjoy the option of walking into some back door referred to him by a vysstichi who seemed as though he didn't like him. At least he could relax and move his hands away from the hilts of his weapons though, for he doubted that any real danger would fall upon him. The dracon filled tavern did not exactly strike him as the righteous group hunting down potential necromancers and everybody seemed so used to their role when he had entered that he knew the vysstichi had not brought him back here to punish him for being so open with his questions. If that had been the case then the dark elf would have had to kill a lot of people to have his staff so used to it.

Lingering slightly and walking slowly, Urck made his way to the doorway that had been pointed out to him. It was during that slow walk that Urck noticed the fae enter the kitchen. She did not appear as though she was part of the kitchen staff. Judging by her size Urck doubted that she would even be able to lift a ladle. And hadn't she been on the counter when he had asked about the training? The orc slowed his pace even more to watch the fae's path out of the corner of his eye. If she went somewhere else in the kitchen besides to the chef or the door then he would simply go about his business and walk through. If she started moving in his direction though, towards that of the door, then he would wrap his long fingers around the handle and hold it open for the fae to enter first, knowing that with her small size she would most likely not be able to accomplish the simple feat alone.

Was it pity for a smaller race that obliged Urck to hold open the door for the fae? Never. Politeness? Perhaps. But the most likely reason was definitely the simple fact that the orc realized that there was no sense in taking unnecessary risks. He still did not trust this situation fully and what better way to secure his own safety then allow a much smaller fae enter the darkness first, with the fact that without him holding the door she would most likely not be able to get in at all as an excuse? Whatever the reason once the fairy was through the doorway or had gone about doing something that did not concern him, Urck would walk through, leading his two human companions inside the unknown area.

[Amber Brightwing]

OOC: No problem with the match up or the bunny.

As Amber was hoping for, the bartender didn’t waste much time and let her get her piece of the fregat soup as well. The moment he said she could go through, she quickly took of and flew into the kitchen. In all her excitement about finally getting what she had been thinking about for several months already, it never even came to her mind this could a trap of some kind. Everything pointed towards her getting closer to receiving training, so that’s all what she was thinking about. It was certainly strange that a random bar would offer such things, but considering this was a bar full of dracons – who were known to prefer necromancy – and that this was a bar in Vortex, it wasn’t really unlikely as well.

When she entered the kitchen she was happy to see the orc was still there. That would save her the effort of asking around. As he opened the door she was going to follow him through it. Only the orc didn’t enter. He just held open the door and waited. Amber halted at a few feet away from the orc, well out of reach. Why was he waiting? It suddenly occurred to her that he was holding open the door for her. But why? From what she had heard, this creature was way smarter then she could have ever expected. In the stories orcs always were dumb, violent and evil creatures. So maybe the stories were wrong about the dumb thing, or maybe this one was an exception, but that didn’t mean she was about to accept this one as a nice being. She trusted him about as far as she could throw him.

After halting for a second, she quickly flew past the orc and into the darkness, without saying a word. As she flew down the long spiral stairs, she wasn’t troubled in the least by the environment. She was much too occupied with the orc behind her, constantly looking back to see what was happening. As she came down the stairs, she was surprised to see that it was a light elf that greeted her. They weren’t exactly the creatures that were associated with the darker forms of arcana, but then again, neither was she.

My name’s Amber Brightwing.

[Minerva]

Urck and Amber

Spirotyn did not even bother to make any attempts at cordiality as he noticed the newcomers approach. In fact, he put all his conscious efforts into manifesting a scowl as they came to him, sizing them up in one disgusted stare which did not leave much to the imagination. It was quite clear what this man thought, simply judging from his mannerisms and poise. Not one who was given to such foolish and ineffectual sentiments as affability and warmth, the light elf instead placed his faith in much darker emotions, notions as black as the paint streaked across his indifferent face. So, the vysstichi had sent more weaklings down, had he? More worms willing to butter up to the Masters in a bid to learn the Art? A revolted snort issued forth from the man’s lips before he voiced his usual question, cold eyes locking onto Amber’s delicate form as she was the first to respond.

“Amber? Hmph. Just as pathetic as the rest of them. And what about you others?”

The man had been quick to dismiss Amber, the iciness of his stare snaking away from her for a moment in order to consider the two humans who had come accompanying Urck instead. Once they had given there answers, or else allowed their apparent leader to speak for them, Spirotyn would then turn his attentions unto Urck, brows narrowing in blatant disregard as he noted the other man’s race.

“An orc? Rogaku let an orc down here? Obviously he must be getting senile in his old age. What is your name, orc?”

His voice was laced with contempt as he spoke; evidently he was making no attempt to hide his disgruntlement when it came to the other’s race. Still, if he was here, then Rogaku must have granted him passage for a reason. Did orcs even possess the intellectual capacity to learn something as delicate and exquisite as arcana, though? He doubted as much, but he did suppose that it would be an interesting thing to see them trying to learn.

Unsuccessfully stifling a wicked grin, the light elf would then wait until he had received everyone’s answers to his questions. One of the prerequisites for their learning was that he knew their names, after all, even if he was not the one to do the teachings.

[Urck]

Urck's eyes more accustomed to darkness then light pierced through the shadows of wherever he was with ease. The superior night vision was just another one of the many gifts he was given by being born into that particular race and also one of the many gifts that he watched other orcs around him waste by spending too much time in the sunlight. Curiously enough, those black eyes fell upon the slender form of a surface elf and not a vysstichi as he had expected. Having figured this place to be some kind of secret school Urck could not imagine why a surface elf would be down there not only in the dark, but also where darker arts were taught. From his experience with the light born elves, Urck knew that the vast majority of them were more likely to devote their life to hunting down an evil necromancer not support one, let alone become one. But he supposed that this meeting for information had been strange enough, he was in an underground complex below a dracon filled tavern after all, why not throw in a light born elven necromancer too? The question was would this place offer sufficient training. Only time would tell, he supposed, though he was quite glad that e would not have to stay down with the odd group much longer.

A scowl crawled across the orc's nearly unscathed face as he watched the elf regard Amber and judge her instantly to be weak. What did this man even know of judgement? For an orc who had all but devoted his time into the art of the conversation and judging a person's character simply by noticing every subtle detail they made when talking or listening, the fact that this vysstichi thought he knew somebody came as more of an insult to Urck then even Amber probably. Almost instantly he made up his mind about who the elf was. Probably one of those military type men who constantly called their recruits 'maggots' or 'worms' just to make themselves feel better. There had been a time when even the light elf standing in front of him did not have any training either, and at that time he had most likely been more of a weakling then anybody else in the room. Does it make you feel like a big man? Urck thought and nearly spoke, but decided it would be best to see how this whole incident played out before gaining the disfavour of this particular man. But then he heard the man speak to his companions and he actually felt curious as to how they would reply.

"What about us. What's the point of even answering?" Came the gruff reply, surprisingly coming from the lips of Verkan, the former peasant. Obviously the whole situation had him a bit rattled and on his guard, but in truth Urck would have wanted him to stand up to somebody ready to treat him like the dirt the human had worked for years no matter the situation. After all, he could always get training elsewhere, maybe not necromancy but something else. Of course none of them voiced that opinion. "You are just going to call us pathetic no matter the answer." He finished before the elf got a chance to reply. Of course he knew he was being rude but frankly he did not care. As far as he was concerned just because this man had been in this place longer then he had that did not make him any less of a 'weakling'.

And then the elf turned to Urck and as his words fell upon Urck's green skinned ears the scowl that had presently been painted there quickly turned into a slight smirk. He was definitely used to the prejudice of other people and actually, he rather enjoyed. In his mind it only made him more noticeable and less likely to be forgotten, something that pleased him greatly. "The leader of this dark and secret cavern full of unpleasant things let a surface elf down here? They must have been simply mad, or at least drunk at the time."Urck replied in a tone mocking the one that the elf had used when speaking to him before changing back to a normal voice. "Please elf, spare me your judgement before first looking at yourself. An elf is more out of place here then an orc. As for the name, it is Urck. And the humans are Verkan and Edmund" Urck said, speaking the simple truth in a less then polite way. He guessed that most likely the elf would try to come back with some predictable comeback or even attempt to cause him bodily harm to restore his superiority over his new recruits but whatever happened, Urck would be ready and waiting.

[Amber Brightwing]

The words of the light elf made no sense to her. Pathetic? Maybe at the moment, but that's why she was here after all, just like 'the rest of them'. If she had already been strong and powerful, why would she ever need this training for? All she had now was her ability to fly and to stay out of reach from the people around her. And not because there happened to be an orc standing next to her, or not just because she was in Vortex. She had heard enough stories about people kidnapping faeries, to keep as pets or even to eat. Sure, the chances on all that happening here were larger than in the rest of the empire, but they still existed and they were large enough to stay alert at any time.

Clearly, her companions were much more capable of defending there selves and they took the words of the elf seriously. She wouldn’t like to be called weak either if it was clear that they could give some serious trouble to anyone. She believed that the elf before her would have some serious trouble fighting these three. Even magic had its limits. As the orc made his remark on the lightborn, she had had trouble not laughing out loud. Truth be told, it made more sense to find an elf (even a lightborn one) here than an orc. Orcs weren’t exactly known to be great mages. But he certainly had a good point there. All three of them were out of place here.

[Minerva]

Urck and Amber

The light elf looked a tad astonished in response to the orc’s words, although that sentiment did not last for long. For all the time he had spent down here, Spirotyn was unused to having newcomers answer back at him, regardless of how much he chided them in turn. Eyes narrowing to the darkest of slits for but a moment, and it became all too clear what thoughts were perusing the man’s mind then. The fae, at least, had been well behaved, and showed him enough of the proper respect he deserved. The men, however…they were proving themselves to be annoyances, and annoyances were things that Sprirotyn did not see eye to eye with.

Fixing his gaze on Urck, the elf looked to be on the verge of retaliating with another insult of his own, before apparently thinking better of it. Fighting words with words would only prolong their little meeting here, and he did not really want that. Still, he kept his tone sharp with acid as he spoke, leaving little doubt about the fact that no love had been lost or gained as far as their conversation was concerned.

“Watch your tongue, orc. Rogaku might have seen fit to send you down here, but I can just as easily refuse you passage onwards.”

After a lengthy glance at the orc, the elf then shifted his gaze onto the two men who stood with them, prior to speaking in a much more derogatory tone of voice.

“Perhaps I will call you pathetic no matter what, but that’s only because I enjoy speaking my mind.”

A flicker of a smile, and the man was then addressing the group as a whole once more, not giving any of them a chance to rebuke his statements as he continued to speak.

“Contrary to my beliefs, however, someone seems to think you all have the potential to learn, and that is why I am here. To show you the way to your new Master. So now, if you have finished your chatting, let’s just get going, shall we?”

Without really waiting for an answer, Spirotyn then turned on his heel and began to lead the way. Down the corridor of the underground he led them, a place which was both imposing and unremarkable at the same time. Onwards and onwards they went, until the light elf finally deigned to bring their little group to a halt besides one of the complex’s many doors. Beyond this was a room that was really rather dark and depressing. Lit only by a randomly placed assortment of candles, it seemed clear enough that whoever dwelled within very much enjoyed the darkness of his lair. After gesturing, or else forcefully shoving the group inside, Spirotyn announced each of them by name before pulling the door shut again without a hint of pomp or regale. Evidently the light elf wanted no more to do with him now that they were here.

To the left of the room was a bookcase, as well as a table partnered with a chair. These were not particularly interesting in any sense of the word, at least not for a group of prospective necromancers stood in the nearly all-encompassing dark. To the right was a large container, draped in cloth covered with the tone of blood, and emanating a low rumbling sound every few moments. A malevolent sort of growl, it hinted at the fact that the four were not alone in the room, and rather clearly, at that. Of their teacher, however, there was no sign. Had Spirotyn taken them to the wrong place? Was this simply some kind of twisted game that he was playing on them out of spite? Perhaps so, but Amber at least would be able to tell that something was very much amiss.

Sensitive to the energies of the arcane, the fae would be able to feel a concentration of the stuff coming from just ahead; to smell, see, and perhaps even hear it. The energy of someone else’s vis, and an incredibly large amount of that as well; clearly a master of the arcanic craft was in the room with them, although whether or not Amber chose to share that knowledge with her companions was entirely up to her. The revelation was a rather peculiar thing in itself, perhaps, since there was nothing in front of the group besides the half-circle of a pool filled with water. A rather large entity in itself, the piece appeared to take up over half of the room, although that was a little hard to judge due to the dim lighting. Three steps led up to the basin of the pool, if any of the group cared to look at what lay within. For now, however, it seemed as though they were able to act as they pleased.

OOC: Amber, just in case you weren’t sure, feel free to be creative when it comes to arcana. As a fairy, you can see, smell, feel, hear and even taste magic, and you can make how you sense magic in these ways unique to your character.

[Urck]

Urck felt the amusement well up inside him as he caught the brief look of astonishment that had quickly stamped itself upon the elf's features. It was not a look that Urck was not used to seeing, taking people by surprise and being underestimated was one of the main ways he survived, but that look people often gave him was most satisfying and would most likely never get old and would probably never stop coming. It was pretty difficult not to pass bad judgement upon an orc that stood a mere 5'6 with arms only the size of an average human. Even though most people would think of those things as disadvantages, Urck would never even attempt to change them. Watching the look pass, Urck listened to the next words to come from the lips of the elf, offering nothing more then a slightly mocking smirk and nod in reply. He did not really care if the man did not like him after all, few people did after getting to know the real Urck, it was merely the fun of it that had forced Urck to reply rather then to stand back and take it. The need to not be just an average person going unnoticed combined with the excitement of getting away from just that is what brought the orc here and what forced him to remain. Then he saw the man's gaze predictably shift towards his human allies and Urck immediately thought that there may be trouble brewing.

After he heard the short and rather blunt explanation the elf offered to Verkan, Urck caught the sight of the human parting his lips to respond and sincerely hoped the human would reconsider. Fun is fun but the human had already proved his point and there would be no reason to press the conversation further. None of those concerns were voiced though, all Urck did was stand there with his customary smirk planted upon his oddly angular face. Nearly sighing in relief Urck listened in as the man began addressing the group before turning around, not giving the human a chance to issue the words he had to give. "Yes, a most excellent idea." Urck replied, not really caring that the elf had probably not wanted a reply judging by the way he instantly turned around. Talking to the back of the elf's head was fine with him for he new that the teacher, student, or whatever the elf was would hear him anyways. Falling into step behind the thin form Urck followed along. He kept his ears and more importantly his nose open for any smells or sounds that would help the keen sensed orc to discern anything about what was going on around them besides the steady sound of feet hitting ground. Eventually coming to a dark room, Urck hesitantly stepped inside.

Immediately his black eyes darted about, their vision more accustomed to darkness then light piercing the blackness of the room as he took in all of his surroundings. Everything he saw was quickly and silently committed to memory in the few seconds he stood in the doorway while the elf announced them. He never really knew when such knowledge would come in use, if ever, but he studied the room anyways. Often the details and things not needed gave you the biggest advantage in any situation, even one as odd as this.

Urck's first thought was that the elf had decided to punish his small group for their back talking by locking them into a room where they may be properly tortured. But then, why was the fae there, she had not done anything wrong and if they had come to be tortured then it wouldn't really be fair to send her down as well. Then again, places like this were rarely fair. At any rate, they were already here and there was nothing he could do about it besides see it through and watch what happened. Ignoring the pool and cloth draped jar, Urck made his way to the left, his humans following him. Clasping his hands behind his back casually, Urck began scanning over the various books on the bookshelf while Edmund sat down in the chair. He felt that if he looked into the pool the only thing he would see was water or something he would be frightened of and growling jars did not exactly promise good results to those who peeked inside. The books however, were completely unremarkable and also seemed as though they would be the safest thing to do at the moment. Plus to see the reading material that an apparent 'master' kept may very well prove to be quite interesting. As soon as he reached the books, the orc's lips parted, deciding it would be best to gain everything he possibly could during this odd moment.

Forcing himself to appear calm and at ease even though inside he was alert and wary, Urck spoke. "Well my dear fae. I don't know where the master is, but we might as well pass the time while we wait." He began, still staring at the books with his hands crossed behind his back while the two humans stared intently at the faery. "Tell me about yourself." He finished, completely oblivious to the magic energy that was so potent in the room and having no way to possibly know that their master could very well already be in the room with them. For all he knew they were merely waiting for a late man.

[Amber Brightwing]

OOC: I’ll be leaving somewhere tomorrow (without internet access until the end of July), so if you want to continue without me feel free to do so. I’ll pick this back up in August.

The elves in this complex didn’t seem to like the orc next to her that much. Both of them seemed to prefer to just give him what he came for quickly and avoid too much conversation. Now that they got moving again, Amber chose to be the last one of the group. She found it more comfortable to know where everyone was. As they came to a halt at one of the doors, Amber didn’t hesitate to go in. From the looks of it, they were going to receive the training they had come for, and she didn’t see any reason why they would do anything else. And even if they did choose to kill or torture her, there was nothing she would be able to do to stop them.

After looking around briefly, she flew to the chair and landed on its back. Hovering in the air wasn’t that difficult, but most people – including herself – found it something annoying to look at, so she tried to avoid it as much as possible. Now that she was on her ease she took a better look around her. She didn’t see everything as clear as the orc, but the limited sight didn’t bother her too much. She had been flying through the forest at night on several occasions and she was used to it.

There was however one thing that she was fairly sure she could sense, but the orc couldn’t. It was hard to explain exactly how she could sense it. Some compared it with the sight, smell, hearing or taste, but she found it more to be a feeling. Like the feeling you get when you somehow know there someone behind you. Like the vis of people somehow radiated something she could catch. The advantage with magic was that you had the promotions. That way she could determine fairly well what level mages had. There weren’t smooth transitions between the levels, just jumps. Only initiates were difficult to sense. Since they hardly had a different vis than a the average man/woman, the only way to sense them was if they were actually casting. Masters were fairly easy to recognize. They vis reserves were huge.

I don’t know where exactly he is, but he isn’t to far away.

Most likely he was somewhere in the room already and if not somewhere very close to this room. All she could determine was a general direction. But until he/she revealed himself/herself, she could just as well chat a little with the orc. She was just as curious as he was to know more about his race.

And about me. Well there’s little to tell. I grew up in the Dolwoods, just like the regular faerie. About a pattern ago I got so sick and tired of the others of my race, I left. Until about a month ago I lived by myself in the forest. I left for Vortex because I decided to get some training, and here I am.

Her life in a nutshell. Little had happened so far, but she somehow had a feeling that would change soon.

And how about you? You don’t seem to be much like the orc I know from stories. More intelligent and such. Are you an exception, or is it just the stories that are wrong?

[Minerva]

OOC: That’s fine, Amber. Thanks for letting us know. You’re both going to be tested before training starts anyway, so it should work out. I might have to NPC your character for a bit, though (don’t worry, I promise not to randomly maim and/or kill!) We'll see what happens. Urck, I’ll wait for your response to Amber’s question before pushing this too much further forwards…my excuse for the boring post.

IC:

The books that the orc chose to glance over revealed nothing of particular interest; for a Master in the sphere of necromancy, they really did seem like pretty standard fare. Tomes on arcana were only to be expected in a place such as this, and, considering the nature of their would be teacher, so were volumes on the darker things on life, such as the dark magics and the Aeternians that favoured them. If Urck chose to pay the assorted tomes a greater degree of attention, then he would notice that there were also manuscripts on torture and suffering, and how best to inflict them. No treatises on fragrant flowers and gallivanting gryphons were present to brighten the irrepressibly dark space of the room, and no highlights of goodness and affection lingered to stifle its gloom. An ominous place indeed, and all it lacked now was the presence of its occupant, in a more blatant sense at least.

The aura of this alleged being remained in an arcane sense, although only Amber was aware of that. Watching, waiting…perhaps this was simply it’s way of gauging the newcomers, of summing up their intents and whether or not they were truly worthy of being here. Another test, another barrier; it seemed that these things were popular in the underground school, as well as precautions to ensure that only those who were truly meant to be here remained. It might have been a little unsettling for Amber to feel the eyes of a mysterious entity locked onto her and her companions in a situation such as this one, but that feeling was not about to grace her with its sudden absence anytime soon.

For now, all would remain silent and lacklustre as the group indulged in idle conversation, their voices only disturbed by the occasional half-hearted growl sounding from beneath the shroud of the cloth-covered cage. Contrary to the fact that he was already in the room with them, albeit indiscernibly, it seemed as though their impending Master felt rather partial to waiting a few moments longer, thus ensuring that the time was right before finally choosing to reveal himself. That time, evidently enough, was most certainly not now.