[Location] Toherro's Dark Teachings and Prayers

[Dragon]

OOC: this thread is not self moderated. You can post in here only with my permission and by posting in WND's tavern first.

A place which could not be reached by many, a place which was not even known by many held many secrets, even more tunnels. Tainted and disturbed Ara floated around it. There was no normal light, no sunlight ever reached this place, it was completely underground, with a few big halls, many narrow tunnels and a lot of enchantments around. Steep, stone stairs spiraled down from the White Night’s Drink tavern, with a candle once in ten metres glowing in special laps made in the center wall of the narrow and almost upright staircase. There was a special person who was responsible to light the candles which gave just a weak light for those who traversed these stairs. For those who waked this place for the first time, they would soon find out that tripping wasn’t so hard and grabbing onto walls just to know where they were in darker paces was muchly needed.

As soon as the long spiral stairs were descended out of, each and everyone had been shocked by the space the underground gave. A hall with a ceiling as high as a four storey building, grey stone walls with inscribed paintings, runes and stories were present. Stories which were written in a language only a few could understand, as for paintings, they showed battle scenes, woshipings and a few other violent captures. They held a story which was told only to the chosen ones, leaving most in complete confusion, which was usually fast ignored and forgotten. Mages, assistants and cultists ran from one side to the other, busy with their works. Though the hall was huge, it was long but not so wide. In the beginning was where two staircases began. One which led to the tavern, the other one which was guarded by two strong tigrons and not allowed to enter by simple first level toherrans.

On the other side of the hall was a large arched, two section door. The size of it was hard to imagine even for a giant, since it reached to the ceiling. The Second Door as it was called was made completely out of stone as were the rest of the surroundings. Just like the walls so was the door carved in words of a tainted language. From the bottom to the top a snake, in many aspects looking like a dragon, weaved its way around. However that door never opened, some said that it wasn’t even a door, only that the carvings made it look like one. There were smaller doors on the left side of the big ones. The small ones were guarded by at least four guards. These doors were opened from time to time to the second and higher level toherrans. From there loud roars, which were caused by no one else but Toherro himself, were sometimes heard in the Main Hall. Sometimes, almost never and only those who spend lots and lots of time here heard them. Once such sounds reached the hall, each and every person would seize work and stand still till they passed. They did not do it out of duty, but because the roars held such power.

To the sides of the Main Hall, a few doors were scattered. Some left to dark arts classes, some to mage’s work rooms, some to domiciles, one to a library, some were not for the common to see. All of them, unlike the ones in the Second Doors, were made of wood. This was where the first level toherrans could come to learn the dark arts, later to find out about Toherro, sometimes to advance to the next level and get access to the Second Doors. However that was not for the weak, nor for the doubting. Third level toherrans were the ones who looked over the younger students, toughed them and greeted them once they reached the hall. ”Your name, weakling.” Was how one of the third level toherrans, the light elf, named Spirotyn asked the new recruit, greeting him with a cold look and bitter tone, quickly deciding if the near weakling was worth to be here. Spirotyn was dressed in dark crimson robes like all who walked in this place. Only they were better kept, and with markings which showed his superiority, even if they were unknown to the new trespasser. Just as well a black stripe went across his right side of his face made by some kind of paint.

[Keeva Kaldres]

Timestamp: Kuras, 9th brightening of the 5th cycle of Kalendryas, Winter of Era XI in the Age of Darkening

Grumbling and muttering to herself as she swatted disapprovingly at the reddish stain pooling on her clothes. Her night was already bad enough as it was; she did not need some left footed waitress spilling wine all over her to spoil her mood even more. The kitchens had not worked to sooth her flailing nerves either, a dreadfully hot place that complimented her mood wonderfully, if not her usually neutral disposition. Stalking down the set of stairs in evident frustration, the young woman cursed ever choosing to come here, at possessing enough foolishness within the core of her being to get caught in such a stupid thing as a storm. Now look where that had gotten her. Trouble, and more trouble...trouble she did not want, trouble she did not need.

The lighting in here was abysmal, and the girl could hardly see much more than a hand in front of her face. It was as though the darkness swallowed up the light from those flickering weak candle flames, engulfing it with its bleakness, not allowing the poor things to live any kind of effectual life. A terrible, sad thing really and, at any other time, the young woman might have chosen to actually ponder over the matter. In this case, however, she was too annoyed to do anything but stalk down this irritating staircase with a headful of remorse and...bewilderment.

This place looked nothing like the bathroom that foolish draconess had promised her. It hadn't been so long since she had last seen a proper bathroom for her to have forgotten what one looked like, either. If her memory served correctly...the place that she sought now should have looked nothing like this, unless Vortex had an incredibly strange way of seeing things. No, that couldn't have been it...Why would the female have lied to her? She had seemed embarrassed enough about spilling the wine on her before, so why would she have conjured up a falsehood in response to it? No, that just didn't make any sense...The bathroom would be down here, somewhere, and she would find it, or at least she hoped she would.

The locale that greeted her upon leaving the last of those blasted footsteps did nothing to relieve the girl's mind of the web of confusion that had dared to unfurl within the core of it. This was definitely not what she had been expecting. At all. If this was a bathroom, then it was a ridiculously big one, with lots of other bathrooms leading off from it. Not a very sensible decision on the part of the architect, surely.

Giving a start as someone addressed her, some man dressed in what she classed as uninspiring garments, asking her what she wanted and calling her a worm. Perhaps he was an attendant of some kind, although he did look silly with that stripe painted across his face. She doubted his credentials as much as she doubted this place housed any kind of functional bathroom. Still, he seemed peeved enough as it was without her to provoke him further, and she really did want to wash that stain from her clothes before it dried.

“My name's Keeva...sir, and I'm looking for the bathroom. I was told there was one down here, you see, and...”

Was he even buying this? Looking about the expanse of this great chamber once more, the girl wondered whether she would just be better off finding the bathroom for herself. She didn't much like the look and sound of this man anyway, even if he was a light elf.

[Dragon]

Of course there was trouble. Humans always expected to get things without having trouble. She didn't need trouble? Well the school was about to prove that wrong. The Art, as some called this place, was about to proove it very wrong. First though the human had to show herself worthy of the powers she was aiming for. Mysticism was one of the most dangerous things ever created. One of the most wonderful ones as well. It took just a sparkle of Clara and blink of an eye to light a candle and make the traveler comfortable, to summon a beast and scare any army, to sneak into minds and find the deepest secrets. All it took was another blink for all of it to fade into a void of lies.

"Keeva, hmm?" He asked rhetorically of course. Spirotyn was a bit angry at the tavern keeper. Sending people who had no idea where they ended up was bothering him a lot now. It was ok for the first few times, but now there rarely came one who knew why he came here. Apart from those who came her not the first time of course. Like him for example, he earned his clothes, he earned his black mark on the face. He was worthy, but this... this girl... why in the world did the tavern send her here? Why was she held worthy?

His gaze travelled back onto Keeva from a bit tired and irritated gazing into the ceiling as if there he could see the dark elf who was so keen on sending fools down to here. "Keeva. Bathroom? Stained in blood aren't we now? Follow me." His voice was rough, it wasn't some calm, song like voice of a light elf. No, far from it, it was rough as if wood with splinters was brushed into his throat. It wasn't rude though, nor were the voices. It was just one, when you don't want to anger the person and see the full power of it.

"Sending weaklings like this. What does he think this place is. A leisure house? Stupid..." The elf continued mumbling beneath his nose as he lead Keeva through the four floor high chamber. A few people were running around, basically shouting commands to each other, but apart from that the place was silent. Silent not in the real sense, but it gave the feeling like everything around died and there was just one left watching. The woman could have sworn that someone was indeed watching. Someone apart from the busy eyes of robed people.

"Here. The... bathroom." He opened the third door on the right side of the hall. "In you go, girl." Were the last words he gave and the roughness of his voice died greeted by a look that if enchanted could literally kill. This was perhaps not the best time and definitely not the best time to defy orders. And it were orders, not just a polite request. Perhaps she indeed did not need trouble, but then perhaps there was a wish to find out what kind of trouble she already had?

As soon as Keeva went into the room, the door was closed behind her. It wasn't slammed though. Only closed. Politely. The view which opened in the room was an interesting one to say the least. It was a normal size room, one of a classroom of perhaps 20 people to fit in in benches. Only there were no benches, no chairs. Just four armchairs in front, with a low table between them. On the table paper, pencils and an opened book were planted happily. To the right from the door was a skeleton. Not a gross or scary one though. It had no rotting flesh hanging on it, instead it was cleaned and hung as an exposition model. To the left and all along the left wall were bookcases with lots and lots of books.

There was a brown carpet on the floor and lots of smaller cupboards, bookcases, tables, globes, plants, barrels, lots and lots of stuff placed there and there across the room. They weren't broken, nor dusty, nor out of their places. Everything was placed in the appropriate places with delicate care. It perhaps only needed a bit more space. "Come, come, Keeva." A voice reached the woman somewhere in the room, depending how much she managed to move from the door during the short lived silence. And there it was... a unicorn came out from behind one of the bookcases which blocked half of the room.

White as snow itself in winter. Large and graceful as only a unicorn could be. It seemed to shine with greatest wonder the girl ever saw before in her life. "Wonderful isn't he?" From the other side of the bookcase a gnome came out. He too was dressed in a dark red robe. Only he had no black stripe on his face. From the looks of it, he was quite old, since his face had lots of wrinkles, his voice however was not one which would normally belong to an eldery person. "Yes he is a beauty." He answered after Keeva, no matter if she chose to say no.

"Please take a seat." He waved for the woman to go around the bookshelf which unlike all others was standing in the middle of the room, blocking the armchairs from the door. The unicorn also paced to that part of the room. For his age, the gnome was really fast too. The way he ran back to his armchair and settled in there was faster than expected. "So... Tell me about yourself." This time and finally it was a request and not an order. "Please." The unicorn shook his neck once, making the mane dance in the air, as he stood behind the gnome person thing.

[Keeva Kaldres]

The man did not seem particularly inclined to behave in any kind of polite or civil manner, and certainly had not chosen to exhibit the cordial behaviour which was to be expected of a man when confronted with a flustered and confused young woman. Still, he had made the offer of escorting her to the bathroom, which was a kind gesture in itself. Although…that wasn’t really it, was it? No, it had been more like he ‘vocally bullied her into following his commands,’ rather than merely having suggested the idea. Either way, however, she supposed she had at least something to feel grateful to him about. He had agreed to show her where the bathroom was, after all, and had not merely chosen to strand her in this strange place, leaving her to wander around through its halls aimlessly, trying desperately to locate the bathroom so that she could then contend with the wine stain.

“Thank you…?”

Then again, she still was not completely sure why exactly she was thanking him, what with all his rhetorical questions and angry stares. It was quite clear that he didn’t really like her much, despite the fact that they had only just met, and Keeva’s feelings towards him were hardly to the contrary. She had been about to point out that the stain was not blood, but rather red wine, before she hastily bit back her words with thoughts that he would not bother to listen and heed her words anyway. Besides, any exchanging of words now would mean time wasted, and time wasted would mean more time for that dreaded wine stain to increase its powers of resistance against anything she could offer up in a bid to rid her garments of it.

Drawing the focus of her gaze away from glaring intently at the elf’s back, the woman instead chose to look around at her surroundings a little more, to take all of it in. Such a big place…she would never have believed that such a place existed upon first entering the otherwise nondescript little tavern here in Vortex. What disturbed her more than the grand hallway and the numerous individuals scurrying about shouting at each other was the uncanny feeling that she was being watched. More than once grey eyes darted every which way, looked behind her as though expecting to see some horrible little fiend creeping up on her. It was not a welcome feeling, and yet she could not tell whether or not her invisible stalker had good intentions or no. From the look and feel that she had obtained from this place and her guide so far, she did not doubt that it was the latter.

“Cosy little place you people have here…”

Those whispered words provided little comfort to the young woman as she continued to follow on from behind the mumbling elf, eyes shifting from side to side nervously as she strived to discern from whence her watcher was placed.

Finally however, after what seemed more like candlemarks than mere moments, the door to the ‘bathroom’ came into view, and Keeva found herself being ushered through quite rudely, away from the sight of the chamber outside, away from those watchful eyes, and their owner. Or so she hoped. The little respite she took from being away from the outside was short lived, and in but a split second it was being replaced with the decaying threads of disappointment. This was no bathroom; it looked more like a demented classroom than anything else, and a decidedly weird one at that, what with its feeling of comparative cosiness when compared to the room outside, the clean skeleton propped up in the corner, the unicorn…

Unicorn??!

Inclining her head rapidly to get a second look, the girl’s eyes widened substantially when what she thought she had seen proved itself to be what she had seen. A unicorn, beautiful as anything, its coat lush and white…a sheen of pure innocence set against the bleakness of the city’s guilt. The epitome of grace and elegance, Esteron’s flair was but a shade when compared with this refined specimen of a beast. Was this creature even real, though? She did not believe she had ever seen anything so beautiful in all her life, but this unicorn…

Her thoughts were distracted by a voice, a voice that had spoken to her only seconds before…or hadn’t it? She had been so wrapped up in ogling and gawking at the unicorn that she had hardly been able to take those previous words in.

“He is wonderful…wonderful beyond belief…”

Still caught somewhere between reverie and the real world, the girl did not fully realise that she had spoken in response until the words had already left the haven of her mouth. When the awareness or what she had done had been given the change to fully dawn on her, the woman brought one pale hand to her mouth in shock, before appreciatively slumping down into the seat that was offered her. The fact that he was a gnome was a lot less interesting than the fact that he had a unicorn stood right behind him, even if gnomes had always managed to cross her path one way or another in the strangest of ways.

Something, however, compelled her to talk in response to his query, to witter on quite incessantly, all thoughts of bathroom and stain temporarily erased from the confines of her mind.

“Me? Well, um…I’m from Alleria Prime, mister, although now I don’t really come from anywhere. I used to be a soldier, but I really want to be an artist at heart, to make pictures and drawings and things, and I…”

A sudden extraneous thought managed to break through the outer shell of her current trail, then, poking at her mind with an unwavering doggedness that could easily be associated with an annoying child pestering its mother for some thing or other.

“Pardon me for asking, sir, but how did you know my name? I didn’t tell you…Wait, this isn’t the bathroom…That nasty elf lied to me!”

Rising abruptly from her chair, the woman’s eyes narrowed in blatant bewilderment as she looked about the room once more, her gaze finally resting on the wooden structure of the door after taking a skittish, roundabout route about the chamber itself. What did she think she was doing, sitting here and engaging in meaningless banter with some gnome whom she didn’t even know? Foolishness…Such an act could only bring her more trouble, and she had already had enough of her fill of trouble for one evening.

[Dragon]

"You have no idea how cosy." Was the only thing that the elf answered to the woman while they got close enough to the door. And indeed she had no idea. Even if the place wasn't eternally big and had rather real borders, which were known to a few people in here and unknown to most, it was still a mystery with no end. What the woman so far saw was the first hall. But there was the second and third, each having its own doors which led to rooms and tunnels to the most unbelievable ones. Just like where she ended up now was a bit unexpected.

The gnome was really glad watching the girl take a seat and adore his newest creation - the unicorn. "My girl, being a soldier is definitely not for you. And I can tell you that. Nono, you must pursue your artistic abilities, not your combat ones." The gnome agreed taking the tea from the table and taking a few sip. Then a few more as he listened to what the woman had to say next. "And art is what you're going to learn here. The purest form of art." The gnome only smiled at that comment. There was no better art than arcana.

He watched the woman's sudden burst of confusion. Was it time already to explain further? "Please wait." He told her as she went half of the room to the door. The unicorn paced around the middle bookshelf as well only through a different side of it. It slowly neared to Keeva with a lovered head and huge pleading eyes which begged to stay. He came to her in a non threatening manner, making his hide shine in snow-white even better and the horn reflect light better.

'You ask me how I found out your name and I will tell you. This is me doing art. By learning this art, I learned a lot, it's creating beauty and trying to understand people. Tell me if you want to see this walking in your garden." The gnome waved at the unicorn at those words. After what reaction the girl just shared, he was sure that she would. "I can teach you that, lady Keeva." He said and started walking back to his armchair. "If you really want to, then you can leave. But if you will you won't be able to come back and if you won't then you won't learn how to create art, my dear. Arcana is the highest form of art, mysticism is the purest."

He whistled and the unicorn paced back near the gnome, bowing its head once more. "You ask me how I found out your name and I will tell you that it was arcana as well. I am a mystic lady Keeva. But I did not dig in your mind if you want to know." He took another sip of the tea. Clearly enjoying that a lot. Tea made art better. "Yes, Keeva this is not a bathroom. Spirotyn didn't tell you the truth, yes. If you really think that you should leave, then you can. But perhaps you would want to see and create more?" The gnome only smiled, comfortably sitting in his armchair.

At that he waved at the unicorn an as soon as Keeva looked at the creature, she noticed how it suddenly changed and... disappeared. It was almost as if a picture once turned would have only the border visible and the true glory unseen, so did the vision of the unicorn fade and completely disappear in the game of reflections. It was just an illusion. A beautiful illusion. One which the gnome promised to teach Keeva if she would want to. Also one of the hardest illusions the gnome so far had created. Now however he could make his piece of art whenever he wanted to.

[Keeva Kaldres]

“Art? Here? But I only came looking for a bathroom to wash of this wine…”

Confusion, confusion and more confusion. Was that all that this strange place had to offer up to her? Her mind was already thoroughly bemused as she was, and she did not need strange little gnomes and their somewhat exotic pets to make things any worse for her. Of course she had no idea that he had meant something completely different to her when he had mentioned ‘art’ in the context of his sentences; such was an easy mistake to make, and she had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

Something in his voice, however, essayed a certain degree of intrigue to the young woman, however, a titbit of interest that made her pause in her steps, hand just about outstretched to turn the handle of the door that would permit her an exit from this chamber. The unicorn nearing her in a gentle, non-threatening fashion, the woman took one look into those huge, saucer-like eyes, before finally emitting a heavy sigh and looking back to the gnome to hear whatever he had to say. What came worked to momentarily stun the young woman as her mind sought to catch up on what information was being imparted it. Of course, she would love to see such a creature as a unicorn in her garden- if she had had a garden, that it- but how would such a thing be possible? Unicorns were rare sights in the Empire, weren’t they? She had certainly never seen one in her lifetime before now…

“Teach me…? Is he…is he real..?”

She was not aware of any of the spells higher than initiate level in her chosen sphere of arcane, but she had had some experience in weaving illusions about herself, draping herself under the guises of choice pieces of furniture. For all she knew, this creature of beauty and light could simply be a donkey or a llama in disguise, could it not? Or was this something completely different? It was always hard to tell with mysticism, but she was not about to deny that she wanted to learn the skill for herself. Initiate level spells were all very well and all, but the prospect of learning more enchanted her, piqued her curiosity quite fully.

“I apologise, sir. Please forgive me, I had no idea. I would be honoured if you could take the time to teach me, to show me how to create. I want to learn how to make illusions, like the unicorn.”

Seeing the unicorn simply vanish in the way it did had not surprised her in the slightest. On the contrary, it had merely confirmed her suspicions as to the unicorn’s true nature. How long had it been since her first lessons in the sphere of mysticism? How many long months? Had it been an era? Too long, certainly; much too long. And now that she was being given the opportunity to further her skills, to broaden her horizons with respect to arcana. Moving back towards one of those dreadfully comfy-looking chairs, the young woman seated herself back down once more, without another glance towards the door, to the way back.

“Please, sir…You know my name, but I would know yours as well. How should I call you, if I may ask?”

[Dragon]

The gnome could not control his smile, nor did he try to. The woman seemed to be a good choice. Not too cautious and perfectly eager to pursue in this art. A little bit too young and naive but would have to do. Maybe he, the great mystic as he held himself, could actually teach her how to live... cast. Vast, teach her how to cast and create spells. Good, almost too good. First of course she would have to prove herself worthy, getting past the tavern was not enough of a proof, especially not now that she got here this easy.

"Mainel Earthor. Pleased to meet you lady Keeva." The gnome introduced himself and took another sip of his drink. "Now. Before I can start teaching you, by the rules of Art, this is how the academy is called, you have to do something for your art master. In this case for me. It's suppose to be something that would prove the candidates inner will and strength, something hard to accomplish. However..." The gnome mused to himself the last bit, standing up from the armchair and going near one bookcase, which had all kinds of vials on the shelf.

'I could of course give you a trial and all that, but lets say that I believe that you would pass it, so lets not waste time, shall we?" He winked at the woman taking one of the vials from the lowest shelf. In a bottle of green glass, Keeva could see something dead and pale swimming in it. Some sort of creature or plant. A small one at that too. "Now. What you will do, is hunt down 20 rats... well or mice, both are just fine. I need them for experiments and I am not going to use sentient beings, while mice and rats are just filthy, harm doing rodents."

After these words the gnome put the bottle back into the shelf and waved for the woman to follow him, barely listening to what she had to say. He then took a leather bad from a cupboard and threw it to the woman. "This is where you will store the rats and bring them to me in five candlemarks. Not more. If you are unable to get 20 rats in that time, then do not return, because you will not be accepted. I don't care if you'll bring dead or wounded rats as long as they are not dead for more than one brightening. Understand? Good." No need to answer rhetorical questions of course.

Again barely listening to Keeva's words the gnome practically shooed her to the door. "One last thing before you go and either never return or come back and learn to tame unicorns. No one is allowed to know where you have been. No one. I will be watching you. Just like I was when you entered, that's how I heard your name. Now go. Five candlemarks. Twenty rats. Unicorns. Go." The gnome opened the door, letting the woman ask her last questions if she had any and waved a serale.

If Keeva chose to go, then no one stood in her way. The black striked guard let her through, the stairs were just as spirally, just as dark and just as long. The kitchen was where it was before and just as busy. The tavern looked pretty much the same, except that Agaenos wasn't here. "Good luck." That was the vysstichi from the counter. One of the few who knew what Keeva would have to do. "And don't worry about your husband, he's fine and will meet you in the morning."

[Magrand Black]

Finally, the bloody drunk had taken the hint… Magrand couldn’t get blunter than that without resorting to a sledgehammer. He got worried there for a second—worried that this imbecile would pass out drunk before spilling the beans. That would really be a quandary for this wannabe necromancer… much more so than showing up to complete whatever task he had been given both drunk and disorderly. If Magrand didn’t kill him, his masters apparently would if they were anything more than spineless cretin… and it was a rare occurrence indeed to find a coward capable of mastering the infernal powers. If this fool desired real respect; respect derived of supremacy and of honour, than he had a much lengthier journey ahead of him.

He was close… so close to his goal now and he was getting excited at the prospect of advancing his power. An initiate in the dark arts could only accomplish so much, and while his power had proven sufficient for his purposes, Lord Kras’nan knew that there was more… so much more for the taking. The necromancer had only dipped his feet into the pool of power, and he knew it well enough. More importantly, he knew the downfalls of his eager pursuit of power and the subtle traps of emotion. Both lead to carelessness, and carelessness led to trouble. He had almost left the White Night’s Drink without making his payment, and he only had a moment to do so before he was whisked away by his drunken companion. Hastily, the Diantar left a hundred-crown banknote on the counter in front of the calm vysstichi along with a rushed explanation.

“For the drinks.”

Then he was dragged off into the back of the tavern, through the bustling kitchen and into a dank stairwell. By Jorel, this dracon was insistent… and Magrand certainly didn’t think much of his aptitude for persuasion, as could be seen by his passive resistance to Sagah’s forceful apprehension. Indeed, he was feeling a certain compulsion to wretch out of this fool’s grip when he finally let go, likely in anticipation to their descent.

The dark passageway caused a certain shift of focus in Magrand’s mind… no longer was he thinking of his asinine guide. No, his attention had shifted fully onto his surroundings, or more specifically, his lack of awareness in respect to them. He was no vysstichi, and though he had spent months underground he would never be entirely used to it. His feet struck clumsily against the cold stone of the spiral staircase, a single clawtip grazing the side of the stairwell in an attempt to guide his blind feet.

And the darkness parted to reveal marvels within—magnificent, cathedral ceilings, flowing texts and sinister statuettes, paintings and runes and unknown stories oozing with infernal legacy and raw, undeniable power. Yes, this place had power… power in abundance. He could feel it in the cold stone beneath his feet… from the great roars of Toherro himself thundering from within his chambers. Yes, though the walls didn’t ooze and writhe with dark magicks, Magrand knew that he would find this place an agreeable substitute for the Collegium in Har’oloth…

But he made it through unscathed—a slight inconvenience, and he had seen far too many wonders in his travels to be overly enthralled with something like this. As such, the dracolord’s mind immediately shifted back to the original focus; the seeming ineptitude of his escort and the ambitions within his breast. He was thinking now, about tests and acceptance and Aeternian preference. He didn’t rightly know which cult he was to personalize, or simply, whether to put on a façade at all. Perhaps a mystic had already gotten into his thoughts… perhaps he was being tested right now. Anything was possible, after all. Nonetheless, he was here now and there was no turning back… the only acceptable path was onwards. So onwards he went, to speak to the rude lightborn who seemed to have addressed him.

“Magrand Black.”

Alright, the softskin asked for his name, and he got it. That, and he had been unnecessarily rude… the dracon hoped it wouldn’t carry on through their conversation, as this string of distasteful circumstances was getting a little long… first questioning some dirty drunk and now this? Oh well…

[Dragon]

The huge chamber remained ever as magnificent to each new person that came here, paintings, size and magical lights that were here instead of windows, all this take the breath away even from ones who were here not for the first time. There was no visible connection to the world. Just the stairs from which Magrand descended and nothing else. No windows, no sun rays, just a few more doors and a high stone ceiling. People, oh they were busy, mumbling something beneath their noses only for themselves and a few people in need to hear. None of them seemed free for chatting. Even the guards who did nothing but stood, seemed to be not interested in moving a muscle or taking a break.

"Black you're gonna be." The elf replied with a dark snicker and looked from Magrand to Sagah. The elf overlooked him almost with pity and mocking only said nothing out loud about it. Apparently the Greeter didn't think of Sagah highly either. "So I see you brought someone after all. Almost too late. Now come." With that same mocking voice which gained a cold and firm tune at the very end, the elf turned and began to walk further into the great hall. A good choice was perhaps to obey and follow and Magrand's drunk companion nodded to him that they should follow. There was no need not to listen now that the dracon was perhaps just so close. Maybe.

The elf led them to one of the almost middle doors on the left. "It is here. Come in and enjoy your stay. Especially you, dracon." There was no telling which dracon the elf meant, since by the time Magrand and Sagah managed to glance at him to discern to who he had spoken, the elf already turned his gaze away and opened the door. "What? Who? Why..?" Sagah tried to understand, his drunk mind not completely aware what Spirotyn meant by that. Of course, no answer followed.

The room into which they came was rather dim. There were about five candlesticks with five candles each in the room. All placed around, but more to the door than the other side of the room. As soon as both of them were inside the door was closed and the room became even darker. Sagah almost unaware that he was still with his new found friend and not simply on another meeting in here, did what he always did. Go a few paces forward and kneel bowing to Winds knew who. There was no one alive in the room so far and if anyone had a detect spell then they would know that for certain but as the case was, they didn't.

The room was not empty however, it even had more than the candles. To the left there was a table with a chair and a bookcase next to it. To the right there was a rather big container, filled with something unknown to the dracons and covered with a large cloth. There was something more though. In front there were three steps going around a half circle of a pool. Right next to these steps there was Sagah kneeling. The pool was rather big and took the biggest part of the room, leaving more space in the two corners closest to the doors, since the pool was only half circle. "I have completed my task, Master Aribeal." Was all that Sagah said in the calmness and silence of the dim room and nothing happened for one minute...

[Magrand Black]

There was something… odd about this situation, and Magrand couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sure, it was an academy for the dark arts, but something wasn’t right, he could feel it in his gut. And no, it wasn’t the characteristic ineptitude of his drunken companion, nor was even the cryptic décor. Such things he was well accustomed to, they had fused themselves into the realm of tolerance, and even in some cases, acceptance. No, it was that uncouth softskin’s cryptic comments and sour demeanour that posed a bitter taste on the corners of his tongue. Instinct, it seemed, had disagreed with these circumstances… and he was hardly willing to ignore instinct. It had saved him too many times…

Silence, it seemed, was the best approach… a subtlety which this asinine fool would be apt to recognize. For now there was no denying it. After all, who in their right mind would approach a master about training while stumbling around in drunken stupor? That wasn’t just stupid; it was crazy, and it seemed apparent from Spirotyn’s tone that he concurred. Fortunately for Magrand, his need for a companion had dwindled with the discovery of this trove of knowledge. Still, he would tolerate the fool’s presence until his master deemed it fit for him to do otherwise. He could be a patient being if need be, despite his psychological dramatics.

So he followed the softskin through the hallways… he didn’t need prompting from Sagah to follow through with his objectives. Not even as pleasantry—he seemed far too drunk to appreciate such trivialities regardless of Magrand’s current disposition. The necromancer was much more attuned to his surroundings than he was to Sagah’s drunken antics. Perhaps later he would be able to appreciate his setting more aptly, being as resolute as he was on achieving his current objectives.

A door opened to a most curious chamber, apparently the sanctum of a certain Master Aribeal… and judging from the calm pool encompassing the better half of the room, he would have to be some sort of oddity. But oddities could teach… and a freak with master necromancy could have him roasted on an open spit with a snap of his fingers and he knew it. If there was one thing that Magrand respected above all else, that was power—and those who had it and exercised it wisely were worthy of some degree of praise. The dracolord only hoped that this Master could stand up to his measure of worth, as he was getting tired of the company of rude obnoxious fools on that brightening.

Instead of following Sagah, this time the dracolord stood back and observed silently, waiting for the appearance of this curious Master Aribeal. Of course he meant no disrespect, but without instruction or knowledge on the nature of the situation, following along would have been an unappealing option—especially when it involved an unknown entity and a large pool of water. Unusually enough, though tense and unquestionably tempted, Magrand refrained from allowing his hand to waver too closely to the hilt of his dagger. This small restraint tensed both mind and body, as breaking cautionary habits was inclined to do. Instead, the silence pounded in his head now, thoughts, questions and ideals whizzing through his brain in harmony with the uneasy calm around him. He could do naught but wait for them to be answered.

[Dragon]

And so they waited for the Master to arrive, if such existed here in the first place of course. Both of the dracons remained silent, except Sagah started hiccuping again and tried to control it as much as possible, giving him something more to do than wait for the unknown, plus he knew for what or rather who he was waiting for. The pool remained ever so quiet and dark. It was impossible to tell how deep it was, nor if there was anyone in it at the moment, there was no visible underground there. Nothing. Just a pool of darkness, with only the surface illuminated by the candles.

And then Airbeal decided to show or perhaps was finally able to show himself. A few bubbles popped to the surface and a head appeared. The skin was greyish, a single fin ran from the eyes and down the spine making it look just slightly like hair. The eyes were also close to white and grey colours, rather big eyes they seemed to be too. Magrand could see more of the body which was underwater and if he knew the race then he would know that this was a merman. And definitely not a tropical one, since its body was of dark and blank colours and the water was quite cold as well in the pool.

Then he swam closer to the edge of the pool and rose more from the water, which meant only one thing - there were steps on the other side too, just like the ones which led into the pool. There the master sat down, covered in water to about his bellybutton, his grey scaly chest Magrand could see just how strong the body was, muscles covering it everywhere, fit for swimming with great ease. "Serale Sagah. I see you fulfilled your task. And expect to be taught necromancy now? Yes... First we have to see what you brought." The mer began and his gaze traveled from Sagah to Magrand and then the dracon's hand which was ever so ready to defend the life of the dracon. Now Sagah rose and walked a little bit back and to the side.

"You came as expected. Took almost too long though. But almost is just an almost. I am Master Aribeal, if you will be successful in the task which shall be given to you, then I shall probably train you in my art. Your art as well as I was informed. The first level is meaningless. Yes. It gives you the first glimpse into the big void filled with the unknown and unexperienced, but it is not yet the thing which gives you anything more than... a new game. We shall see if you are worthy to know that there is more to the art than a game."

With that the mer waved to the container and there seemed to be some movement for a second. A groan echoed from there and the cloth which covered it was raised a little bit, then a little bit more and something crept out of there to the ground. It was hard to see who it was or what it was, since the light was not so good. The only really well lit place was the part where the desk was. Still the creature came out of the container and all could see it much better as it neared closer. "This is what you might be able to control, Magrand, if you succeed. He will not harm you, so do not fear. Just don't try to play with it, not to mention tease it." The mer advised as it still sat in the pool overlooking the whole situation and controlling the newly summoned undead.

The thing looked much like a dog, a dead hound which had once been a really big and living pet to someone. Now its flesh was rotten and bloody in most parts, brown fur had fallen in some parts, especially on the left side revealing bones and decaying flesh. The eyes were filled with hatred and malice, eyes which did not blink, nor hold any life, just death itself. Soon the undead moved closer to the door, making Sagah back away even more to the left side of the room and it was indeed hopeful that Magrand would do the same. A low growl came from the dog and then it sat down next to the door, facing its master and blocking the exit.

"Now. Magrand. You know what sphere you have chosen and you know that it is not one of healing, playing with minds or animals. Not even the elements. It is the sphere of death. Murder. Betrayal. Vengeance. You want to be a master of this sphere? That is possible if you indeed understand what this sphere is about. And so if you want to be my apprentice you must prove yourself." The mer spoke, slowly and clearly, making sure that Magrand understood and had time to take in every word. After this there would be no way back. "If you want to be my apprentice then you decide now. If you don't, you will be allowed to leave this place alive and well with only your mind erased of all memories concerning this place. So decide now."

[Magrand Black]

More time passed, and Magrand could feel the hammering of his black heart from within his chest in anticipation for the unknown thing that was soon to be surfacing itself before him. Everything moved in slow motion: the flickering of the five flames, the serene rippling of the unbroken pool, the deep, dull pulsation of his breath… even Sagah’s drunken disturbances. His eyes moved slowly from the stone floor beneath his feet to the room around him; to the 5 pillars of incandescence lining his side of the room, to the large, silent depth before him. And then the master emerged in all his glory, to the Magrand’s surprise. A merman as expected. One who appreciated the effect of a good entrance…

As the murky-scaled mer rose from the depths of his pool, Magrand couldn’t help but to be slightly impressed at the sight of his master. It was rather uncommon to see a mer here in the interior—even a temperate one, and a sea-dweller rising to the position of master was an intriguing prospect. To see a master magus that wasn’t a skinny little runt was a point which dracon hadn’t seen much of, and one which he found particularly admirable. As such, he liked this Aribeal character intuitively, and he hoped things would stay that way…

“It is an honour, Master Aribeal.”

The dracolord’s hand relaxed as the unease of the situation left him, and he was left with what he started with: thought and thought alone. And he knew what this Aribeal was trying to do… he was trying to tempt him; to impress upon him the tenets and the power and the influence of Aeternia. He was trying to sear this path permanently into his brain or banish him from it completely, but little did the mer know that Magrand had long travelled beyond the threshold of penance. There was no turning back for him anymore even if that was the extent of his will—which it wasn’t.

But with the coming of the undead, well, Magrand’s unease renewed itself with vigour. It wasn’t as if he had never seen a zombie before—Aeternia, he had commanded hundreds of his own maggot-ridden minions for the better part of a week, summoned by a creepy, gold-greased necromancer no less, but there was just some innate lack of regard shown in stealing souls from Umblat to further one’s personal ends, even for such things as training. Besides, the dracon didn’t like the idea of such a dangerous creature being subject to the whim of another master… even if it was his own. However, there was definite interest in the power displayed to him by his possible master. But fear… well, fear was one of the last things on his mind. How could one hope to control a power which they dreaded beyond the level of respectful caution?

Nonetheless, Magrand decided to err on the side of caution and give the walking feth pile enough leeway to make its way to the door unhindered. There was no harm in offering due respect to the powers which he commanded. He had learned that lesson the hard way, from a failed Spirit Shield spell. Mistakes were a way of learning, but in this field of the arcane, making the same mistake twice wouldn’t just be stupid. It could be fatal.

“I am already dead set in my path, master. Initiate is but the first step on a journey to greater things… a filter to weed out the unworthy, and nothing more. I will take your test, and I will not fail. Name it.”