[Location] D'Rinishad Academy of Arcana

[Gahl]

Gahl entered the building and took a few second to admire the decor and to also look to see what classes where currently available. Hmm Mysticismwhat better way to ready mind than to learn to use it as weapon. Gahl thought to himself.

Approaching the counter Gahl waited to catch the eye of the boy sat behind the desk, turning towards the poster Gahl pointed at the Basic Mysticism class.

[Amber Brightwing]

Amber made a polite bow as well as she said some final words of thanks and then left the Academy again. She could be satisfied with the outcome as it had gone about as good as it could have.

A cycle later she would return to the establishment again, arriving in similar fashion as before. She greeted Banatarion with a polite nod. “Serale, I’ve come to see if Master Danvan has already finished the enchantment.”

[Faust D'Rinishad]

Perched upon his stool as always, Banatarion rubbed his eyes as he looked at the levitating faerie. “Serale, your grace! I’ve been expecting you. Master Danvan isn’t available at the moment, but he told me to give you this should you come by. He said you would…” Scratching his head and shrugging, the diminutive dark elf reached under the desk and procured a tiny corner of paper in which some miniature object was wrapped.

Inside the neatly folded package was a small golden ring attached to a thin black chord that operated like a necklace. Banatarion smiled when the object was revealed. “Master Danvan wasn’t sure of your ring size, he told me. He also said that this ring would take you back and forth from Vortex to Nexus Prime, but it can only be used once a day as the size of the ring made it difficult for the Master to charge it with enough power to provide multiple trips per brightening.”

[Amber Brightwing]

The Fae flew in range just long enough to pick up the item and then backed away a bit again. If swooping down like a hawk didn’t sound so impolite she might have done just that. Not that she didn’t trust the boy – and even if she didn’t there were still her guards – but she felt much more comfortable out of hands reach.

“You can thank Master Danvan for his efforts and I’ll be sure to remember the favour.” She thought about what he had said for a moment before continuing. Back and forth from Vortex to Nexus Prime? Not exactly what she had been aiming for, though it would serve it’s primary purpose well. “I do have a small question though, do you know if it can it be used to return to Vortex from other cities as well?”

She figured the easiest way to make such an spell would be to combine one that teleported you to Vortex and one that teleported you to Nexus Prime and having the one that activated choose between the two. If that was the case she could use it for easy travel back from other cities as well. If more effort had been put in it, it might be triggered by the location you were in though and she didn’t want to find out what happened if activated in another location then those implanted by trail and error.

[Viskyia Crow]

TS: 1st of Ioannes, Summer, XIV (pf)

The letter came rolled tightly and sealed with white wax that had the impression of a crow, wings outstretched, caring a gemstone in its talons. It was brief, of course, and penned in a neat jewelers hand. The invitation might have surprised him, or not, considering. But it was left carefully with the rest of his correspondences on his desk in his very erratically decorated and dubiously cluttered office.

Secrets : 1st of Ioannes Viskyia Crow White Crow Gem & Jewelry Private Trade Circle Nexus Prime, Arium Faust D'Rinishad D'Rinishad Academy of Arcana Vortex, Arium Faust- I'm sitting in a very cluttered workroom that is in dire need of its floor being swept. It reminds me of another workroom I saw not too long ago and that puts a slight smile on my face. I've been working gold and silver and my back aches with the need to stretch. I think perhaps after I get done penning this note to you that I will slip outside for a run until the suns set. Too much time has passed. I know that sounds strange to say, but its true. Nexus seems a world away from Vortex, my friend. And I wish perhaps that it weren't so. I do hope this letter finds you well, that all the tasks you had laid out before you were completed in a timely manner. And in writing that I stare at the words and find them mundane and not at all what I'd really like to say. What I mean to say is that I hope this letter finds you smiling over something amusing, and that there is a noted lack of complaint currently about your life. I hope your worries are not too overwhelming and you cannot remember the last time you've felt a core-deep rage. No, I don't mean that either. Passion drives people, and its good to feel the range of it. Our laughter together was proof enough of that, I think. Perhaps I shall give up penning something sensible that conveys what I mean and instead say only this... I'm roaming a little. I know you said how much you'd enjoy traveling, and perhaps going a few places with me. I take you at your words. I have one last commission that needs tending too this season. A young man named Straylor requires my services and its urgent. Once that's completed and mailed off (part of the reason my workshop is in chaos), I will be hitting the coast for a while and taking a ferry to Demios. I've a mind to see the volcanoes and comb the caverns there for any gems that might be forged in the fires of those mighty giants. I will be there on the 15th of Ioannes. If you've the time and inclination, please feel free to join me. The city itself is rather small, but I hear its a pleasant place to take a respite. And if perhaps you can come, it'd make the trip all that much more enjoyable. If other duties keep you, then please be well. There will be other times and other places to go see together if the urge ever strikes you. I shouldn't say this but I think of you often. -Kyia

[Ian Fraser]

First Carmelyana in the Month of Junctior, Autumn, Era II of the Celestine Mandate, Era XIV Post Fractum

{ not self modding. still rather new to the site! }

Ian Fraser stepped out of the shadowed streets of Vortex, and into the ornately decorated halls of learning. He had put off this particular trip for too long, but he refused to allow himself to be rushed. Instead, he took his time drinking in his surrounding, pausing on the paintings adorning the walls are random intervals, finding himseld drawn to the one above his target -- the front desk. The sight of one so small and young working such an important job gave him pause, but he continued in nonetheless, his steps slow and measured.

Stopping a few feet away from the desk, he stood easy, relaxed, holding nothing in his hands nor across his shoulders or back -- save for a single scimitar, always on his person in this dangerous city. Sometimes, he thought it would have been best to stay in his woods, away from human contact and interaction. But, no. This was best.

Giving a slight inclination of his head, Ian watched the boy before him for a moment, green eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Basic Sorcery. Is there still room for another pupil?" His words were clipped, formal, a slight accent underlying the words -- a slight lilt to the words, te way he pronounced certain letters -- the letter I in particular; he seemed to almost skip over that particular letter, thus making him hard to understand from time to time.

Not that he was aware of this, of course. To him, people in general were simply ignorant, constantly in need of instruction and repitition.

But that was neither here nor there.

[Varees Har'ethwyn]

Timestamp: Second Cycle of Imperos, Era XIV PF
It was stil quite early, and some fog, holding out as long as it could from the darkening before, still clung to Vortex's narrow alleys, reluctant to stir from its cool refuge in spite of the encroaching pale light and faint warmth of the morning suns. Varees liked to rise early enough to see the delicate vapors before they disintegrated completely in the brightening air. They were like his own personal ghosts, friends from the edges of the darkening world whom he had caught only just in time to bid farewell to. As a child, his first memory of coming up to the surface had been in the candlemark or so just after dawn, and from that brightening on the splendor that was Vortex had ever been for the Esh'lahier associated with that wonderful wreath of mist.

Varees was near the edge of the city now, and the dark walls loomed not far ahead. Closer at hand loomed a different edifice, and one that was of greater interest to the young elf at the moment: The D'Rinishad Academy of Arcana. He wanted to learn sorcery; its physical, direct power seemed to him a complement to the subtler, more indirect skills he preferred to employ for most tasks. He had not the physique for a brawler, nor the stomach for Necromancy. Mysticism seemed an unbearable intrusion for him. He treasured his mind, and respected those of others. As for Elementalism, well, he ran, if one could excuse the pun, hot and cold on that discipline. Sorcery seemed best for him: the best way to leverage and be good at those tasks of motion and force that he was not otherwise particularly good at.

He entered the academy and removed his newly-purchased hat to straighten out his pale hair, and he took a moment to look about before approaching the counter. The art and decor here were...odd, even macabre. Some of it was quite subtle and well-done. It was thematic, and didn't have the kind of eclectic collect-the-set feel that the Thanal Palace's art displayed. He liked this better, in all its bizarre variety and glory.

Aware that he was a few breaths away from earning the title "loiterer", Varees turned at last to the front counter, and to the small, dark, intense-looking vysstichi boy working away at his papers. The Esh'lahier smiled, a smile more expressed in the twinkle of his pink-flushed gold eyes than in the minute upturn of his thin lips; the boy reminded him a bit of himself when he was that age, in terms of his manner if not of his color-palette. "Vendui," he said softly, as he approached the youth. "My name is Varees Har'ethwyn-Llocsir, and I wish to engage one of your instructors for Beginning..." he paused to look again at the sign, "...that is, Basic Sorcery," he corrected modelling the sign's terminology. His long, ivory fingers nimbly produced his purse and he counted out 250 crowns' worth of notes. "When can I schedule my instruction for?"

The boy looked up at the money that was coming out of the pale elf's pockets. "He has some business to wrap up for this cycle, but I think he said he's have that wrapped up by the 18th or so. So come by then, early, like you did today. Training usually lasts a cycle."

Varees nodded, smiling at the youth. "The 18th" the Esh'lahier repeated. "Orodisia. Seems like an appropriate brightening to begin the systematic study of something." The boy did not smile back at his little witty observation, but only gave Varees a nod of sober agreement. He was so serious and businesslike, and yet he swung and kicked his feet under his chair in a charming way.

"Thank you, then," concluded Varees, putting back his money purse and readying himself to leave, "I'll be here on the 18th. Vedaust."


ooc ETA: Took care of it. Thanks!

[Eyvind Redbeard]

3rd Brightening of the First Cycle of the Month of Junctior in the season of Autumn; Era II of the Celestine Mandate, Era XIV Post Fractum.

A letter arrived brought by an Imperial Legionnaire.

33rd Brightening of the Fifth Cycle of the Month of Imperos in the season of Autumn; Era II of the Celestine Mandate, Era XIV Post Fractum.

To: Lord Faust D'Rinishad, Baron of House D'Rinishad
From: Eyvind Redbeard Avornmagor Björnsson, Cencoris of the 1st Cohortii of the 2nd Daos of the 9th Imperial Legion.
Ref: The War in Sheria

Your Excellency,

As you certainly have heard Sheria is preparing for war. As you are well aware, these promises made by the Orcs won’t be enough to stop the Imperial War Machine and that the horrors perpetrated against Narim and Autumnus can only be answered with fire and steel.

I come hereby ask for your famed Academy to send help so that this war doesn’t turn into a slaughter for the Imperials like the one before did. All help you can send will be welcomed. Be it in the form of soldiers, mages, engineers, weapons or supplies.

Thank you for your patience.

Signed,
Eyvind Redbeard Avornmagor Björnsson, Commander of the Black Shields

[Kalinda]

Brightening 5 of the Second Cycle of Kalendryas, Winter, Era XIV Post Fractum

A messenger arrived at the D’Rinishad Academy of Arcana, a male vysstichi wearing a black leather armor. There was little about the man that could have given people a clue as to where he came from, whether he was a member of one of the noble houses or just a commoner who had important business here. He carried a letter and would insist that it was meant for Lord Faust D’Rinishad and Lord Faust D’Rinishad alone, and he wouldn’t give it to anybody else, but wait until aforementioned Lord D’Rinishad arrived, even if it meant waiting for candlemarks.

The letter said,

Cousin,

Without a doubt you have read the Herald and know about the vysstichi attack on Portshire. I don’t have to tell you that this is bad news. They blame the three Houses of Har’oloth, they blame us for the attack. Whoever the attackers were, they were seen wearing our tabards. I assure you, I do not have anything to do with it, and despite all their flaws neither Eilantha nor Varelinen are capable of such folly. We agree on one thing, that we have to be careful in our dealings with the surface world after what happened in Silrosia.

I have no idea who could be behind this. Maybe we have enemies in other cities that we do not know of, maybe Silrosia itself is behind the attack and wants to kill us, wants all those so called tolerant people to agree that it would be a good idea to kill vysstichi.

I have received a letter from an anonymous source who claimed to have some inside information and wanted to meet me. He mentioned the Thane of Portshire’s hatred for all vysstichi and that this lightborn elf will do anything to kill us all. I also received a message from Amber Brightwing, the Thane of Vortex. She had apparently been contacted by aforementioned Thane, a man by the name of Riconus Xind’ell. She mentioned that you were his friend. I think you should choose your friends more wisely, but since you seem to know him, I ask you to talk to him – and also meet Amber Brightwing.

We have to find a solution, we have to find out who really attacked Portshire, otherwise we’ll have another war at our hands, and even though I’m confident that we would win, there would be many lives lost in the process, and we would have to spend the remainder of our existence fighting the Empire for they would never leave us alone again after this.

Please reply soon!

Rilvin

[Riconus Xind'ell]

TimestampBrightening 14 of the Second Cycle of Kalendryas, Winter, Era XV Post Fractum

A messenger covered in a heavy black robe approached the front entrance of the Academy, carrying with him the following missive.

Secrets : To the Master of the Barony of D'Rinishad From the Master of the Earldom of Xind'ell Faust, my dear friend, Indeed, it has been far too long since we met last, and I can only hope that such won't be so for much longer. You have my sincerest gratitude for your kind words, and I hope that once this whole situation can be clarified, I can declare to the citizens of Portshire your condolences and good faith. Certainly, I cannot begin to imagine you doing such an unspeakable action, for I know you to be far too diplomatic and intelligent. The words that you promise to me, combined with your influence within Har'oloth, make it hard to consider the initial implications of your city's involvement. Of coarse, you must understand that all possible clues into the origin of the attack had to be investigated. The Herald seems to have jumped the gun in their assumptions, charging hard into a breaking story without knowing every factor and detail. However, that very media outlet - whose article is currently spiralling my city into a race war - can also be used to revert the blame back to the true attackers... which is why I think you need to be made aware of something. By now, I assume you have been told by your kinsmen of an anonymous individual that has requested a meeting with the Masters of House Kitrye'veresi, as well as those from Houses Chaos Dawn and Embracing Oblivion. I would highly recommend you be present for that meeting, and hope you can encourage the other Lords & Ladies of your House to attend as well. The meeting is being held in neutral territory, and I give you my word as a long-time friend that the safety of all Har'oloth leaders will be secure. I cannot begin to express to you how important this meeting will be, for it will certainly garauntee an untold degree of glory for both Portshire and Har'oloth, as well as bring the true conceivers of this attack to swift justice. I hope to see you again very soon, Faust, but in the meanwhile, I shall pray for your good health and happiness. Yours Respectfully, Sir Riconus Xind'ell, Earl of Portshire

[Milo L'Evienne]

Not far from the D’Rinishad Academy, a colorful fellow arrived from Aelyria Prime, a portly and elderly human with blue eyes that if judging by the deep crinkles around them, were filled with eccentric merriment far more often than they weren’t, with a ring of unruly white hair and equally unruly matched brows, a bulbous nose that whistled faintly with every breath taken, and while the black wool robe he wore was unremarkable save for a small Imperial seal upon his breast, he wore a bright raspberry beret perched atop his balding pate, a defining trademark if there ever was one, and one he’d hardly go without even when gone off on the sly for his master occasionally wishing he wouldn’t.

It was him that was most familiar with the city of Vortex, a mildly surprising revelation to the fellow who’d sent him, who might’ve predicted the more likely choice for the task would have been the more unassuming and far less flamboyant Mr. Ulairi. Nonetheless, it was Gwygwin Hurin, Sorcerer in service to His Royal Highness who arrived at the doors of the Dirinishad Academy and stepped inside while carrying in his hand a single leather tube embossed with its mark of origin and sealed tight to all save its recipient. Finding a young Vysstichi boy behind the desk, the old wizard approached with a wide smile and presented himself. ”Good brightening lad, my name is Gwygwin Hurin and I’ve come from Aelyria Prime carrying a missive for a Mr. Faust D’Rinishad, and am to deliver it to him personally, and to receive the gentleman’s reply before I depart again. Might you be so kind as to tell me if he is available?”

[Faust D'Rinishad]

The young boy’s silver hair fell in tousled waves over his shoulders. His obsidian visage, distinguished by regal high cheek bones, softened at the sight of the elderly man, one who hadn’t graced the corridors of the academy before. “A pleasure to meet you, Master Hurin!” He enthusiastically greeted. Thrusting a small hand forward in greeting, the dark elf purposely scooted forward on the edge of his feet to increase the range of the gesticulation. Eyeing the man peculiarly with deep crimson eyes, Banatarion propped his elbows onto the table and leaned languidly upon it. “All the way from Aelyria Prime? Gee, that’s a long way. The master promised that he’d take me there once, after I finish schola of course. Grandpa says that I shouldn’t go anywhere until I complete my education.”” Shrugging indifferently, the boy organized a small stack of papers in front of him before glancing to the parchment clutched in the wizard’s hand.

“And he’s right…” came a voice from the right side of the back wall.

Banatarion’s attention diverted from the wizard as a slender silhouette emerged from the shadows of a stairwell. Cutting an elegant figure across the backdrop of black projected by the unlit stairway, a taller, much older dark elf approached. His gleaming silver hair, framing an unexpectedly youthful countenance, failed to conceal his long tapered ears. Garbed in a simple black tunic that hung loosely to his physique, his pants were similarly hued and tucked into the rims of his high black boots. Like Banatarion, the Vysstichi’s eyes were a shade of dark red, calculating and alert. His head dipped subtly in acknowledgement as he met the wizard’s stare. “I am he…” Faust elucidated, stealing a short glance at the sealed letter. Pausing to wink at Banatarion, the Prince of Har’oloth chuckled to himself as the boy returned to his duties.

“I can take that right now, although I’ll have to read it first before telling you whether or not there will be a letter to take back,” He offered with a shrug.

[Milo L'Evienne]

”Ahh, well all in the blink of an eye my lad when one takes the shortcut,” the old wizard declared with a flamboyant wave of his hand, and was quick to expand on the young man’s thinking. ”The Empire’s capitol is a must see at least once in a lifetime I say, a glittering city if there ever was one and as far as the eye can see…And naturally, of course, once you’ve completed your studies,” Gwygwin amended himself on the fly, a clearing of his throat and the briefest of expressions that much resembled that of a child having himself been corrected.

”Good brightening lord D’Rinishad, a pleasure. Gwygwin Hurin, Sorcerer in Service to his Royal Highness,” he said with a smile when turning and handing Faust the letter. ”And of course, I am at your service,” he then declared of both the letter, and Faust’s remarks themselves before stepping aside to allow the man to read his letter in privacy. Inside the embossed leather tube, there was a single roll of fine parchment tied off neatly with a wide band of black velvet and itself embossed with the Royal seal in crimson.

Secrets : To the attention of: Faust D’Rinishad The D’Rinishad Academy of Arcana, Vortex in the United Arium Directorate From the desk of: His Royal Highness, Prince Milo the First, lord Protector of the Kingdom of Aelyria The Imperial Palace in the Principality of Prime Greetings lord D’Rinishad and may I say what a pleasure it is to hear from you personally. We might have first met you and I under the most extraordinary of circumstances and equally remarkably only recalled to mind in these past few cycles as surely as others have experienced as well, but I remember you well as a man of integrity and honor, and one I was honored to have been in the company of as we collectively emerged from history itself. It is no understatement, the monumental and humbling task which I have been granted by King Auron, and one that I will readily confess I cannot begin to bring to fruition without the support of a great many dedicated individuals, who themselves must recognize the scope of the task that now faces us. With the Empire of old now a thing of the past and a new Kingdom having taken its place, my greatest hope is that we might build a future that all in these lands might be proud of. It is a grand ideal and a far grander endeavor, one that requires not blind faith but dedication, and one that is beyond one man’s capacity to accomplish alone. In light of this I have been recently contemplating a number of roles that have previously been in need of filling, as I have also been in the process of creating new roles in order to address areas and facets of our society that have for too long gone unheeded to their detriment and to that of the Empire as a whole. There is indeed a place for you in this lord D’Rinishad, your expressed support is wholeheartedly appreciated, and I would be pleased to discuss these things with you personally if you find that circumstances permit. Should you wish a meeting this very brightening in fact, my afternoon has been cleared and Mr. Hurin has graciously agreed to transport yourself, and two others should you so wish, to the Imperial Palace so we might meet, and then return you all again safely at the end of the brightening. Suffice to say that Mr. Hurin is admittedly a colorful character by his very looks and demeanor, but I assure you that he is a practitioner of great skill and reliable talents, and as the man most trusted to transport me from one Empire to the other with regularity, I will personally vouch for his skills, eccentric as his demeanor may seem. Should circumstances prevent a discussion this brightening and should you in fact wish to meet, Mr. Hurin has also been given my leave to make arrangements for a later date, and one more amenable to your own schedule. Until then, warm regards, Milo L’Evienne