Hjolnai

Sald was slow and measured in his tread as he stepped into the corridors, but his mind was racing. Someone had procured Edris’ assistance in banning him from the caves, and whether speech or writing was the mode of conversation, another would almost undoubtedly know. Who had regular contact with Edris? Sald quickly made his way to the library, finding exactly who he sought. “So, Worm, I thought I’d find you here.” “Sald, you know that’s not my title. Bad manners to insult me when I know what you need to.” “Fine, Bookworm, have it your way. Don’t let them catch you eating in here...” In reality, Sald respected Bookworm’s approach. Withholding his real name held clear benefits, and his “title” built a persona which was difficult to pierce. What few vulnerabilities he had (like eating where he should not) were as likely feigned as intrinsic. “I’ll tell you who’s after you if you forget me eating, forget the favour Aisen owes you, and owe me a future favour.” “Don’t go too far... I have options beyond other sources.” Bookworm clearly saw through Sald’s feigned anger, but Sald knew he could not point it out without sacrificing some of his own persona. “Oh, fine. Forget food and Aisen. Now what you must understand is... Stop glaring at me like that! Um- Now, you want to know about Edris and caves, I assume. I “overheard” him talking with Lynna about your access to them. Come back in half an hour and I’ll have a list of all the details I can remember.” “Thankyou. I’m sure we’ll have reason to talk again.” As Sald walked away, he realized he had forgotten a crucial part of the bargain – Bookworm was free to tell others what he had been asking about. It did not matter; if Bookworm sold that information, it would only strengthen his position. Of much more concern was Lynna’s part in the events of the day. Was this only for her entertainment, or did she want him to spend more time in the main halls? Was it, perhaps, that she wished for more time in his company? He dismissed the thought. Lynna, being more reliant on cunning than power, was undoubtedly a step ahead of his predictions. In the short term, he should find some public revenge to maintain his persona... though the thought soured in considering his target.

The Eis River flowed in from the North, and cut a path surrounding the Eastern half of Eisund. By the time it was South of the Academy, it flowed through a deep trench, carved by its own waters. The walls of this trench were pitted with caves. It was to these caves that Sald’s feet eventually led him. He clambered down the rock face, eventually reaching one of the deeper caves; it had not been difficult to claim that cave for himself, some years back. On this day, however... “Student Ardil.” “Tutor Edris. What brings you here, sir?” He knew it had to be trouble. Edris was rarely formal, and fairly bookish; furthermore, he was one of the more friendly and informal staff. “You are to leave the rockface. You are temporarily banned from this location.” “Yes sir.” Sald immediately turned and began to climb back up the cliff. To hesitate or question would be a loss of face. He could not afford to seem an easier target. Still, he felt both loss and anger; the relative solitude of the cliff and the flow of the river were calming after the stress and machinations of each day. Someone had taken this simple pleasure from him. He would have to find out who was behind it. He counted several students his rivals, though others would also gain from his loss. As he made his way back to Eisund’s structures, he whispered under his breath. “Who’s behind this? It’s time to call in some favours, consult some...sources.”

It seems that activity is picking up a bit, after a slow few months. As for Shades of Grey, my laziness means that it may be very slow... provided I don't forget about it and abandon it altogether. Still, I'll try to get some more done soon. The NASA contest looks interesting, and I bid good luck to any Pennites who attempt it.

The Academy of Eisund was a bustling place as usual, filled with many of the cleverest and most powerful mages in the land... though rarely anyone who was both at once. Sald Ardil watched the writhing courtyard from his small window. Uncharacteristic nerves gnawed at him, and focus eluded his grasp; he had picked up subtle signs that he might be tested soon, perhaps that day, and once called he would have one chance and no more. He rose from his desk with a sigh. “This is futile; I’ll never learn anything like this. I should go, exercise away some of my frustration.” A familiar voice answered in a taunting tone; “What’s the matter, too afraid to fail? If you know you’re not ready, why not give up now?” “Lynna. I should have known you’d be around. Why don’t you just turn around and go away? I’ve had enough of your games and tricks!” Sald almost flinched at his own harsh tone, but maintained his facade. It would only diminish him to appear indecisive, and weaken his position in the subtle politics of Eisund. To break into anger so easily was bad enough. “Hmph, you’re no fun. Perhaps you just... never mind.” Lynna left, and Sald felt yet more turmoil. Why could he not take these taunts calmly, like all the brightest did? Why did Lynna focus on him? Why did her teasing almost seem friendly at times? He knew it must be his imagination. She was just too bright and cunning for him to understand fully. Her natural charms only strengthened her position and served to confuse him. Then another thought dawned, and he more confidently strode down the corridor. “She dropped a sentence. I must have frightened her, just a bit. Looks like I built the image I needed...”

Well, I'm more often preoccupied with other things, but I'm here...

I'm just lazy... reading on occasion but posting rarely, nothing unusual really. Still, I'm a bit late here.

Solorassil stood silently for some time, apparenty digesting the plan as a whole once again. Finally, he spoke clearly, loudly enough that the hiss of his voice did not detract from the words. "So, let me reiterate the plan, with my interpretation of our alterations. Thomas will find a room or alcove near the Recruiter's Office, where he can observe the goings-on without being too obviously a sentinel. Should Wyvern or another come and appear to be headed for the office, Thomas, you should delay them by telling them you have a new song you want an audience for, and launch into song immediately. That will give us an early warning to abort the plan. After Thomas has taken his place, C and I will enter the office and raid it. We should put things back into a semblance of usual order without overspending time, so that the ruins are not suspiciously different from the expected disorder. I'll be certain to brush past a lamp and leave it swinging, but not falling, as we leave. Then, Tom will enter without being seen and make the lamp fall, so that the crash of the lamp comes when none of us is known to be present. We'll have to remember to put it somewhere within climbing reach. Finally, as we leave, we must split up and wait for the cries of fire; at least one of us should be visibly fighting it, but not all of us. Either C or I should certainly go, to ensure the most suspicious piles are fully burnt. We split up again and meet here an hour after the fire is completely quenched. Now, let us be done with questions quickly, for daylight is running out." My detailed plan may finally get us moving. While I am in no hurry, the appearance of impatience serves my cause, and I see no benefit to taking much longer before beginning. I merely hope the perceived arrogance of my conclusion is not received too badly, for power struggles merely add to the delay.

I woke gradually, light forcing its way through my eyelids. When I finally sat up it was with a groan, for the stiffness and pain of complete exhaustion was all through me. It took me a moment to realize that my actual injuries were gone, the scars minimal, a little hair missing and no more. When at last I could fully comprehend what my senses told me, I found myself lying on a sheet in the centre of a circle. The walls and floor were of a pale wood, not stone as the summoning chamber. Looking up, the circle had been painted on the ceiling as the floor, and I recognised the sigils and patterns; the circle was one for containing and treating the magically insane. It would try to redirect magic used within to harmlessness, while permitting external magics to be used to heal or subdue the one held within. I sat for a while, trying to work my mind into comprehension, but merely thinking was almost painful. I slept once more. When I awoke a second time, sleep had returned much to me. Still I felt the bone-deep ache which I now attributed to magical exhaustion, but my mind could function at some approximation of its normal capacity. Memory also returned, and I recalled all of the summoning ritual at once. Shock almost sent me back from consciousness once more, but I persisted in exploring my recollection. The other mages had pit me against the Third demon... and I had lashed out at them in retribution. Rationality had certainly not been mine in that event; why had I not fled at the earliest opportunity? I answered my own question; "Rage. So much anger..." Still, I found myself wondering how I yet lived. The demon's claws had been stopped before I fell, perhaps by the voice from behind me before it struck. Past that, why had the three not killed me? Perhaps things were not as clear-cut as I had thought. I sat in thought for a while longer, until I was interrupted by shoes tapping the wooden floor. Looking up, I saw that a healer had entered, this one a man perhaps in his thirties. "You remember what happened?" "Yes. The ritual which was meant to test my ability was a trap. They held me in a secondary circle to pit me against the demon... partially using my own energy. I broke out, then struck at each of them. I tore my portion of the ritual's magic from the primary circle, and tried to directly dispel it. Clearly I did not act rationally; I did not flee, my anger got the better of me. My dispelling was flawed also, as it spread to the primary circle's remnants and struck at the bell-shape used as an additional precaution, which I had dropped to gain time dealing with the demon. I should have died to that, using so much power, but I must have been very lucky. The demon was prevented from killing me by someone entering from behind me, but I lost consciousness due either to the demon's failed attack or magical exhaustion. Presumably the three who performed the ritual with me were also prevented from killing me, unless they were also tricked in the ritual. Is that about right?" "Your memory is vivid and functional, and you recognize failures of judgment. I will take you before the judges of your test." Still weak, I had no more strength to question. The healer quickly disabled the circle holding me and led me into the next room. Three people in the testing robes sat on a bench at the back, while the healer led me to a seat before it. I sat gratefully, then flinched as the centre mage spoke. It was Kepran's voice, and it was not unlikely that he had been West in the ritual as on the preparation day. "So, Ailar, I believe it is time for an explanation and our judgment. The intent of the ritual was not just to judge your skills in performing a part of a combined spell; it was to put you in a combat situation under controlled circumstances. For once, they were not as controlled as we had intended. Your response to the combat situation has yet to be evaluated; we will need to see your perspective before conclusions can be drawn, particularly in light of the unusual results. Your capacity to cope with a new, intimidating ritual was good, however; your magic followed the requirements of the ritual as effectively as could be expected, and mistakes were minimal. Academically, you have made great progress through a better understanding of what it is to truly work at something. Now, would you tell us of how the conclusion of the ritual seemed to you?" "It seemed strange to be going through such a dangerous ritual as a test, and so I was subconsciously suspicious of the motives behind it despite the forms which proved the legality of the ritual. Not suspicious enough to consciously realize it, but it left me open to the words of the Third demon when it said that I had been betrayed, which coloured my experiences in the next moment when I found a secondary circle around me. As this barrier was formed partially of my own magic, I felt all the more betrayed, and acted in the belief that each of the testing mages was as much a threat to me as the demon. When the stone bell delayed it, I turned to attacking the other casters as the more immediate threat, and the ones truly responsible for what I saw as a threat to my life. I think that this was the point where I became too emotional to maintain control." "So, your immediate actions were justified had your conclusions been correct? That makes sense, but we need your perspective on the less rational events afterward to understand what happened. The chaotic situation means that we have no objective picture of what happened next." "Picture, for the moment, the position of having been betrayed and attacked through ritual by three others, which is the position I felt I was in. I felt tremendous anger, and struck back in the swiftest manner I could. Unformed bolts of magic, driven by rage to make them stronger. It was madness, I suppose, to use such methods, but in this position it seemed there was little chance of surviving the betrayal anyway, and I could think only to strike back." "It seems you are not ashamed of the intent behind that attack. Good. In combat such instant judgments are necessary, and even resorting to raw magic when contingencies and stored spells are absent or too slow can be a correct response. This is rare, but... In any case, continue. We cannot truly judge until we know the facts. What happened next to spread chaotic magic all through the room and free the demon?" "Without considering consequences, feeling only anger at my own magic being used against me, I tore all the magic of my own from the circle. This must have unbound the spell and left the remainder free to generate truly-random effects. I may or may not have planned for the chaos to distract the casters away from attacking me, which I expected to happen; had they not just tried to kill me through the Third demon? In any case, what came next made even less sense. Lacking the time to harmlessly redirect the magic I had torn from the circle, I directly dispelled it with Endoru kashin stored from long ago. This spell must have been malformed, as it not only dispelled the intended chaos of my own power, but also spread to the circle and pushed back the magic of the ritual and the power of the stone bell. I do not know why I survived that, but I maintained consciousness long enough to see the demon prevented from killing me." This time, the woman who had been East spoke. "So that explains the chaos which spawned so suddenly, and its gradual disappearance. You are lucky to be alive. I know of few with the capacity to expend so much energy over as short a time as the circle took to vanish. You may not know it, but you even sent that demon home after it was stopped. No wonder your magical burnout has lasted so long, a tenth of a star-cycle. To destroy an hour's worth of magic in a minute..." A star-cycle was as a "year" of Home, though legends tell us that Home's year was perhaps twice the length in days; on the other hand, a day of Airlith lasts twenty-eight hours, and even the length of an hour may not be the same. Much was lost when we crossed over. In any case, I had slept for a very long time; it was surprising that I hadn't been transferred to an asylum to recover. In any case, I should move on. The group judged that I was combat-worthy in reflexes provided that I could build trust in any allies, and my willingness to take a major risk when life seemed forfeit was also judged to be a useful combat trait. I had my doubts over the validity of this ruling, but I did not argue; my own views were less positive. They then sent me to Archmage Kals, who had apparently been the one who prevented the demon from tearing my head off, as he came to investigate the chaotic disturbance.

I will not go into detail as to the ritual, the exact nature of the circle or the incantations used in gradually opening a portal, or dragging a demon through it. Such would be against the request of the Council. I will, however, mention that I rarely stumbled in my part, though the Southern chant was by far the simplest; perhaps the ritual had even been modified to place more of the burden on the other casters. It was still a taxing work, though, as I was reciting from memory without having performed the ritual before, and summoning less dangerous demons was far simpler through not having to build as many shields during the casting. As we approached completion of the casting, the portal opened in the North quadrant of the circle, facing toward me. It was as I remembered, a turbulent lake made vertical. A shimmering surface with semi-darkness in its blue depths. Then the Third demon stepped out. A massive shape, perhaps twice my height, standing on two legs with a long tail for balance, with four arm-like limbs, it was far more intimidating than the depictions I had seen in the demonic bestiary. Looking closer, each arm was a mass of spikes, with claws like knives as fingers. High above was an upper jaw, but no lower; hollow fangs for drinking blood, long enough to penetrate the armoured hide of creatures common to the Third's plane of existence. When it ate solid food, one of the arms would be used as a lower jaw. Still, the awe-inspiring appearance and tremendous strength of the demon were not the only threat; it held a crafty intelligence in its brain, located between the shoulders of the upper pair of arms, guarded from blood pressure by bone (I remembered). Though it could not quite match a human mind, it could speak and even deceive if taught our language. Furthermore, as the book had stated, it held some command of magic, and even a small disturbance can potentially, though rarely, destroy even the mightiest of spells, and the demons can apparently see the power itself in action. This particular Third demon seemed little interested in magic; it threw itself against the barrier of the circle (which must have been semitransparent to it, though not invisible as it was to us) with the weight of a falling tower, fanged jaw striking down to collide with a shield before my eyes. I felt an inaudible thump as the first layer of the barrier gave way, but many layers remained, and I just managed to stop myself from stepping backward. Temporarily frustrated at that point of escape, the Third demon turned back to the portal, and attempted to force its way through there, but that avenue was blocked equally. It turned East, and whoever was there (it may not even have been one of those present the first time) failed to stand firm as I had, stepping back almost to the edge of the stone not taken into my bell. The demon's raging assault continued for some time, until it had expended most of its energy... for a while. Finally it turned to me and barked a demand in its harsh language. I glanced at West, who nodded once, and I spoke the words of a translation spell for the Third's language. "Repeat what you said, demon." I managed to avoid any uncertainty in my voice, which could have set it to raging once more. "Why does small thing trap me? I feed soon, feed on you!" Knowing that intimidation was standard in its dangerous society, I tried to give as much of a picture of strength as possible. "Silence, weakling! If any are to feed, it shall be us!" "Small thing thinks it has allies. Small thing stupid, betrayed! Now I feed!" I quickly found that the demon spoke some truth; I now stood inside a small barrier while a path slowly opened between the demon and myself, and panic almost took me. Still, I was not truly faint-hearted, and I had options still available to me. "Come one step closer and I'll destroy you, wretch!" My bluff failed, and the demon struck at the fading wall between us, savagery almost unmatched. Feeling the bitter sting of betrayal, I threw myself into another incantation; I judged I had time for two spells before the demon could force its way through the torn circle. I first called a defense against magic, for I would not be struck down from behind while concentrating on the demon, and as I finished the spell one demonic claw punched a hole in the circle's barrier. Seeing this I knew that I did not have time for a magical strike which could hurt such a large, tough creature, and I wasted another second or so trying to step back. I gambled, then, on the stone bell-shape having been forgotten. I severed its hold against gravity while maintaining its shape, and it slammed down between the demon and myself. Despite the thickness of the stone, I knew it was still a mere delaying tactic, and I set a brief glance to the smaller circle trapping me. The hidden runes blazed into visibility as they had since it was activated, and the "feel" of the magic was almost flawless... but I found a weakness. Anger filled me then, and I tore my magic from the small circle, which left the remaining three-quarters of the power shredded and ineffective. As I broke free, I lashed out with three bolts of lethal energy, formed of will without an incantation; a dangerous act indeed, and one which no combat instructor would accept, but my anger pushed against caution and each bolt sought one of the three casters, East, North and West. I shouted, "Betrayers! You sought to kill me, I will return the favour!" My blood was truly up now, and there was no hint of caution in me, but each of the other casters was no doubt more skilled in combat than I, and my bolts faded into nothingness. With rage, strangely, came pride. I cannot remember what I said next, but my next action I do recall. As I had shredded the small circle, I pulled my magic from the greater, leaving the main part of the power torn and malformed. The task of containing that chaos distracted the other mages, and I was left to control the chaos of my own power. "Endoru kashin!" With those two words I released a compression of a much longer spell, one which many mages keep for emergencies. It drew directly on my magical energies to nullify the power I had drawn from the circle, in equal measure. To expend almost as much in an instant as I had through the entire ritual was potentially fatal, and by all rights I should at least have fallen into unconsciousness. My anger faded at once, all emotions too much effort to sustain, and all I could feel was a cold numbness... but I remained standing. I was too weak to run from the chamber, almost too weak to raise my arms and incant once more. Still I clung to life, to consciousness, and managed to draw up the will to observe what was happening. I had destroyed the magic of my part of the circle immediately, but what I saw now would have stunned me had I not already been near emotional blankness. Starting with my corner of the circle, the bell within it was sliding away, flowing back to the stone's original place in the floor. The chaos of the circle itself was being erased, bit by bit, pushing back from me as it was dispelled. My magical energy was not returning, but instead wiping away all traces of the magics containing the demon! When the dispelling gap in the stone bell was large enough, the Third demon dragged itself from it. The dispelling of the circle sped up as more cause for fear came before me, and I still lacked the willpower to do more than hold my eyes open. I heard a voice behind me, and the demon reared up... and brought its massive claws down upon me. A brief explosion of pain... but not enough pain, strangely. The claws had stopped, digging into my skull but no longer with force behind them. Still, it was enough. The world faded.

Solorassil was immediately aware of the depth of his miscalculation. Now I am trapped. To leave now would show disloyalty, though not treachery, which works against any image of trustworthiness I might hope to cultivate. To remain, however, will lead swiftly to severe infamy unless I can apply some degree of control over the situation. As for actually betraying the group... that seems quite dangerous, but it might give me an opportunity to take memories from the group once subdued by whatever passes for guards here. I... I am uncertain. One course of action seems most reasonable as a primary plan, but I have no contingencies from it without suffering a dramatic setback. Still, a chance is better than nothing, and even the attempt may garner some benefit. "Infamy would not sit well with me, and torching the Recruiter's Office seems a bit extreme; the fire could spread to claim much more of the Pen keep. Would it not be more reasonable to apply subtlety to the problem? A night-time approach with a few silencing spells, and perhaps... an approach from a different angle. Certainly with the door and window damaged, we would have an excuse for entering, and the night can be explained by not wishing to disturb Wyvern at his work, as silence spells are to avoid awakening the entire keep; though these excuses are not foolproof, they would likely not be needed. If the office absolutely must be destroyed to bury evidence, perhaps we could make its destruction seem more a chaotic event than deliberate destruction, through termites in the wall supports or a lamp unattended. Such subtlety could surely fulfil our needs, without battering our reputations as readily as a direct assault. Is there some reason that we must be as direct and unsubtle as an ogre?"

When it was time to return to the Council hall to continue the ritual, I decided to take a more normal method of transportation. Teleportation may be almost instant, but the risks involved are considerable, and there are many warded chambers filled with mind-torn mages. Usually these injuries are from the first few times, but it is still preferable to travel through the intermediate space unless you almost always use teleportation. Excessive instant travel is also discouraged because it creates magical ripples across the aether... but I should return to my point. I decided to travel by land. More precisely, I rode an arcane construct, or golem. My golem was a fairly basic one, essentially a pair of jointed wooden legs holding a table top on them. My usual preference would be to fly, so I need nothing more substantial for ground travel, but I had expended a substantial amount of energy recently, and the ritual would be equally draining. The golem would not require much of me. I brought it out of the alcove where it had been sitting for months, animated it and stood atop the circle of wood. Using haste magic and an angled magical shield, I was able to travel swiftly without too much trouble from the wind, and the limited magical consciousness of the golem ensured that there would be no collisions. It took about an hour for me to get to the Council hall, and I sent the golem back at its own pace. Most likely it would get home before me, as the ritual was extensive even after the circle had been prepared.

Perhaps I should give a summary of one of the books I was given. A demon is, simply put, a hostile being from another world, usually brought here through magic. In our own way, we would be the most common demons of Airlith if we caused more destruction, and certainly the darker ones among us could be called such. Demons are numbered by their discovery, although many numbers are missing; for example, the Fifth and Sixth demons were found to be the same, so there is no sixth, and no records of the properties of a Twelfth demon exist. The higher numbers have less gaps because our methods of research were improved gradually, although there have been naming conflicts when two types were found by different sages almost simultaneously. Once the book finished with the general theory, which was hardly new to me, it went on with the specifics of the first twenty demon types (which concluded with Twenty-Fourth demons). This included details on summoning Seventh and Twenty-second demons, generally considered to be the most harmless low-range demons, and information on fighting the more dangerous ones. The chapter on Third demons urged extreme caution if one should be encountered, preferably involving overwhelming numbers of powerful mages to avoid loss of life, and also mentioned that they are particularly talented at escaping prison circles and have some minor magic at their command. Having refreshed my memory of the theory, I moved on to the next tome, which turned out to be a box for a scroll rather than a book after all. The scroll held the details of the South part of the summoning ritual for a Third demon. I went over this thoroughly before moving on. It was the third day of my week before I was certain I understood my part in the ritual well enough to minimise the chances of a demon escaping. Of course, there is never absolute certainty with any spell, particularly when hostile magic is involved, but I felt confident that my part would be almost flawless. The third and final text I had received was a treatise on battle-magic, Large Scale Destruction. It was a restricted book, meaning that only a certain number of copies existed, and all were carefully tracked by the libraries responsible for them. Furthermore, to gain access to a copy required a good reason, generally taking the form of a research project (although response times on applications are very good; usually a day or two). I read this quite eagerly; combat magic has always been of some interest to me, and is not an uncommon interest. On the other hand, in my case it was also not impossible that I might end up using it; I could see that the text was a contingency in case the summoning ritual went badly. After reading, I spent a day in a weak-magic space hurling dampened versions of the spells I had learnt at large targets. While I was there, I worked on my non-restricted combat magic repetoir as well, which consisted more of shields and illusions than attacks, as usual. Most of us are taught as self-defense, not aggression, after all. On the last two days of the week I had buildings to construct, which I will not go in to now. Let it suffice to say that I managed, despite the constant drain of maintaining my hold on the stone bell such a distance away.

Solorassil listened intently to Thomas' every word, hoping to find clues as to what defenses he might have to deal with and what quality of memories he might be able to steal. Seeing that Thomas had turned to speak specifically to Tom, he turned himself and spoke calmly to C. "It would seem that you are a better judge of character than I, for I had not considered how Wyvern's avarice might keep information from us despite any benefit he might naturally derive from our quest. Furthermore, a search for a map seems more reasonable than looking through the whole forest, though perhaps after that ballad we should consider Thomas a guide." He then raised his voice so that the whole group could hear, despite interrupting the conversation between Thomas and Tom; "So, Thomas, was that all composed on the spot, or did you already have more knowledge of ruins than the vague rumours I had heard?"

It was but a moment later that I was ushered into a small side room, with a basic ritual circle carved deep into the stone floor. Three mages stood at the edge, one left, one right and one straight ahead, with myself making a fourth to form a square (it happened that I was South, as that was the direction of the door). This surprised me, for on my test before, there had been only one other mage involved, and we had not started with a ritual. As before, though, I could not tell anything about the testing mages, due to a particularly enveloping robe worn by each of them. Only by their voices would I learn anything of them there. I stood silent and as motionless as I could, staring at the centre of the circle. After a minute or two of silence, the North mage spoke in an aged voice, so cracked that I could again tell nothing. "Good. You have learned patience. Undirected curiosity and impatience are no longer your flaws. Now we must test your memory and initiative. We are summoning a Third demon. What do we do now?" I froze, considering the implications of this statement. "In that case, we must request special permission from the High Council to perform such a normally-illegal ritual, and when our turn comes to speak, in a month or so, we could hope that such permission is received." "You are surprisingly calm in the face of such developments. Good. What if I were to tell you that we already have the Council's agreement?" "Well, sir, I'd need to examine the document involved, check that the Council seal is valid, and also check the Council records of the day of the petition." "Very good. You have the necessary caution now, I see." Now East spoke with the voice of a middle-aged woman, and pointed somewhere to my right and behind me. "North, stop toying with him. South, all the documentation is on that desk." I investigated, and found that everything was in order, as far as I could tell. I turned back, and said as much. North spoke once more. "So, it seems the genius isn't infallible after all. When were you going to check records outside this room? After the ritual? It would be a bit late by then, don't you think?" "Enough, North. You've had your petty triumph, now get back in line." This time it was West who had spoken, and I was surprised that I recognized the voice. It was Kepran, who had been one of many lecturers through my apprentice years. That thought brought back a memory of North, who sounded like the one who had tested me before. It occurred to me that perhaps North had deliberately marked me down last time... but no, I remembered well enough that I had not really been ready for the test, particularly the non-magical portion as this last exchange had been. In any case, I should continue. After a brief exchange, I walked to a nearby records room and rechecked the permission forms. Everything was correct, and it was then that it truly hit me. This ritual was happening, and I was going to be a part of it. A Third demon? No one summons worse than a Seventh before passing the test, and it is very rare that demons need to be summoned at all. This was, though not the most powerful, almost certainly the most dangerous casting that I would ever have taken part in. All too soon, I arrived back in the test chamber, where the testing mages had already cut lines through much of the circle in many patterns; this also surprised me, as cutting the floor is an unusual measure, but the danger of the creature to be summoned made it reasonable. The pattern being cut then was one I recognised, overlapping semicircles touching the main circle at both ends, so I began the cuts to go on the Southern edge of the circle. Despite not starting from an existing semicircle, my precision was close enough that none had to be reshaped and cut again, which meant less released magic to disrupt the ritual. Then the woman who had stood East told me to construct a bell-shape with a rim the size of the circle using the stone of the floor outside the needed ritual area. Realizing that it might be an additional safety measure for the summoning, I went straight to work. I marked a square on each corner of the room, then put runic symbols on each square. Though not my usual task, it was close enough to my work on building rituals that I could make a rudimentary design in my head, and the marks I made were merely a brushing-off of dust. I think that impressed at least one of the testing mages, though I could not tell which one it was. Then I whispered a particular pattern of words to shape the structure. We ended up standing on a raised stone circle, with the ritual circle carved only a pace or two in, as the stone outside there (with the exception of a path to the door, and the floor covered by the desk; my pride drove me to preserve these areas despite the added difficulty) flowed into a huge bell above us. Throughout this, I got a surprise myself, as none of the mages present took much notice of the huge stone forming above them. I was a little daunted by it myself, and I was in control. With preparations complete, each of the instructors handed me a tome, and I was to return in precisely a week. I assume they thought I was exhausted, for the stone bell required a great deal of magical energy, but perhaps my continuous application of building rituals had toughened me against that form of spell. Also, the tomes held the instructions for the ritual I was to return for...

When next Tarin and I spoke, it was through crystal mirrors. To be more precise, I used a piece of polished agate, while Tarin spoke through a formal quartz Council mirror. "Tarin. No mistakes?" "None, Ailar. Is perfection yours?" "For now." A fairly typical greeting among the more-powerful, what with the dangers of misdirected magic. I continued; "So, what news from the Council? Is this about Home?" "It is indeed. The Council is sending me there, and Materials want a replacement. I couldn't get you through the portal, but..." "They're going to test me again for your place?" "Yes. Apparently your career after the test last time is close enough that you won't be too far behind, and they feel you may have matured enough to keep your mind on the job. The- Hold the link a moment." I waited as he (presumably) spoke to someone, and in almost no time he was speaking again. "Materials want you to come now. Teleport to the third Council rune in exactly three minutes. No time for more, pass swiftly." His image faded from the agate before I could give the customary reply. I scrambled hurriedly for the Tome of Runes, sketched the correct one with airborne lines of power, and incanted so hurriedly that I almost spoilt the spell; then, I faded from there and arrived standing on a large copy of the rune. Never had I needed to travel on such short notice, and I was shaking visibly as the attendant bade me to step off the arrival circle. The attendant was a fairly short woman, perhaps twenty years older than me, and apparently with a dislike of the powers who must come through this chamber daily. Seeing my nervousness, her expression softened. "You look frightened. Another one brought in in a hurry for the first time?" Rather than answer, I just gave a brief nod before passing through the door into the circular corridor around the Council hall. To be more precise, the local hall for the High Council, a major part of the political and economic structure of Airlith. I took a moment to catch my breath, and calm my mind after the traumatic trip; teleportation is rarely used, for good reason.

Solorassil mentally recoiled, though he did not visibly flinch at C's fearless gaze. He meets my eyes? Surely such courage in one so travelled is a sign of dangerous power. It seems I would be best served to test Thomas for hidden depths, for almost certainly I cannot safely attack C; unfortunate, considering the value of his experiences, likely to be varied and interesting. I'm running out of time to speak... "You ask how I heard of your quest? Why, the commotion in the Recruiter's Office was very attention-grabbing, so I exercised my curiosity and asked around for rumours. Plainly I should not rely on such rumours to cover details as to the difference between restoring and finding a book. And since Wyvern was involved, I assumed that it would be something to do with money, such as finding a valuable book rather than buying a copy, or maybe hunting one down to sell." There, I have breathing space again. I don't have much time to think, though. How can I link the book to the "library" in the forest? Ah, I know... "You say we're going back to the Recruiter's Office? Surely if there were anything relevant, Wyvern might have mentioned it? He has an active mind, despite being focused on his own short-term benefit to the exlusion of almost all else... On the other hand, I can see that the Pen keep might have spells to restore anything papery, what with the collection of minstrels, bards and other writers who make their homes here. Still, an ancient library seems a better bet to me, if it exists, for a library would have even more need of such magic. Regardless, you are in the lead, and I have only just joined the adventure, so I will follow." Oh, I see he's still going to keep pressing me about my past. It seems questioning his leadership won't throw him off the trail, but it is better that I held off until now. Being too willing to share my "past" would be dangerous, as a tower of lies should be as short as possible; the taller it is, the sooner and harder it comes crashing down. I'm also concentrating too much on him. Surely I should not ignore anyone in this unusual group, lest they come to see me as more an intruder than I already am. "Anyway, I feel I have spoken enough for now, surely it is time for another to have his turn." Yes, a little hostility to make him realize I am not a mere pawn... for I may need to be pushy in order to accomplish later goals. Still, when next he has the opportunity to ask, I should answer. To ignore his curiosity for too long would be very dangerous. "So, Thomas, how long have you been practicing as a bard? You clearly have great skill to compose so quickly after first hearing the story, and it was well sung."

Solorassil thought swiftly, hoping that his hesitation would be seen as a search for a story to tell. Well, he got the better of me there. I should not press C overly, as excessive curiosity could be suspicious. If we end up in combat, that should give me an overview of his preferred techniques; I should try to steer the group into dangerous areas to increase our chances of facing enemies. In fact, combat should help me understand the entire group, and possibly reveal any hidden depths to anyone here. Since C seems to be leading and to know where he's leading us, I should question him about our goals and reasons for going this way. Perhaps I can cause enough doubt to make him turn back into the forest, which has more danger. "Before we become engrossed in another tale, perhaps I should ask where we're going. I know we're looking for a book of some kind, but I don't know what sort of book or where it might be. So, where are we planning to look for this book? I've heard of some ancient ruins somewhere in the forest, rumored to be part of a long-forgotten library..." A difficult lie to detect, as rumours are unreliable at the best of times, and for all I know it might even be true. It might have been a mistake not to comment on the song, however...

Solorassil thought quickly, preparing to reply; A vampire? A guess closer to my nature than he could know. In any case, I should ask for names before replying; if they realize I already know, I could have more trouble convincing them I'm on their side. Oh, and if I can draw out my answer to C's question long enough, Tom may forget about asking for knowledge of my mists. Explaining that will be hard, since calling it a curse might draw attempted cures. He seems too eager, though... "Perhaps I should start from the beginning. I am Solorassil, and I trust you will provide your names if you accept my presence. To answer your questions, I am certainly not a vampire. A wood such as this could hardly be a place for such evil undead, with the sun a constant threat and few potential victims. As for my capabilities... well, I dabble in many fields. As you noticed, I possess some skill at woods-craft, and along with that I can make reasonably effective use of a dagger." Solorassil pulled a dagger from the mists surrounding him, and then resheathed it with a flourish. He then pointed at C; "Ah, you must be the infamous C, since you seem to be leading this group, and you carry the tools of a scribe. I expect you make use of magic, what with not carrying much in the way of weaponry. Magic is available to me, but only as a weapon of last resort; as I said, I dabble in many fields. Alternatively, do you wield martial arts? I understand that unarmed combatants can be highly effective, and rely heavily on willpower." "In any case, you asked for a story of my background. While I have not such grand adventures to my name as you, if you give me a minute to think, I should be able to come up with something without hopeless digressions and ramblings." Well, that sounded reasonable, now I just need to see how they react. The toe-sized Tom may still need to be placated regarding my mists, and at present Thomas is an unknown quantity, though his reputation is not terribly formidable. Hidden depths, maybe. I should begin concocting a story, maybe hint at a death curse causing the shadows, for only the most powerful mages would attempt to fight one of those and "cure" me. Ah, yes, perhaps an embellished version of my encounter with that necromancer, Kardel Ialkan, who could barely animate a skeleton when I took his memories. Then I'll have to avoid his spells for the time being, as necromancy would be suspicious. Oh, and I should be careful directly saying that the mist was his death curse, since I'm not certain of his death. My current assessment of this group is that none of them are suitable victims just yet. Thomas may have hidden depths, or otherwise may not have many useful memories, while Tom might be too small to be a valid target for my power, and C still seems like he may be too powerful and dangerous to attack, unless I can find a weakness.

Solorassil walked almost silently through the remnants of the tangling vines, and knew he was approaching the group; his stolen memories gave him some degree of woods-craft, and the vines were recently torn. Then, he heard voices ahead, and moved forward more quickly. "... and many dangers lurked, some more considerable than others." Hearing these clear words, Solorassil realized that a story was being told up ahead. Perfect, the end of this will be an excellent time to join the group. If I make a few comments on walking in, there shouldn't be too much suspicion, and after that I should be able to convince them to let me aid in their quest, and when the quest is done I may build more trust among the community. He waited, and listened more. From the sound of things, this one is either a skilled liar or an adventurer with many experiences beyond the norm. His memories would certainly be valuable, but undoubtedly he would be a dangerous victim. I will not make a judgment now, but I suspect that I would be best served by leaving him unharmed. As for the others... I can tell nothing now. In any case, none of this will matter until the quest is done; there are too many people in the group for any opportunities to arise. As the story approached its end, Solorassil approached the group, and as C suggested that they should be moving, Solorassil came into view and spoke. "An impressive tale, though I would hope that we meet no such truly powerful creatures in any travels around here. I hear you are in search of some kind of book; knowledge is certainly worth searching for, and I would gladly join you if you have need of an extra pair of hands. If you think me too untrustworthy, however, I will understand; the mist which swirls around me is certainly offputting." Not the most elegant of greetings; I could have handled that better. Still, I think it may be enough to serve my long-term goals.

Solorassil (I may or may not end up sorting this somehow, and indexing it.) Brief description Solorassil's most immediately apparent feature is a strange mist which flows gradually around him. Within this, he is apparently a fairly short humanoid figure, though whether the shadowy fog is natural or a curse on an otherwise mundane being, only he could say. When he speaks, he would seem personable enough if it weren't for a slight lack of depth to his voice, and a habit of pausing as if stunned at any new development. Certainly he is willing enough to give anecdotes from his past, though these seem too varied to come from one human lifespan; he will even discuss his unusual attributes if asked, though rarely will he repeat the same story in answer. History As in the brief description, Solorassil will happily speak of his history, but as he speaks of many different experiences none of this can be taken at face value, and he often seems to be joking. Certainly he speaks of knowing several trades which can take a lifetime to master, and mentions places no one has heard of. In case you wanted his actual history, I don't have any to give you. Sorry, but it's something I may add later. Motivation (Your character does NOT know this) Despite an appearance of personability (perhaps to compensate for the expected distrust his shrouded appearance might bring), he is actually a cold and calculating being. Solorassil has one main purpose in life: to gather memories of strong positive emotions (or just knowledge; this isn't a finished character, but in a state of flux to some extent), generally taken by force from the minds of others. However, he follows this goal with almost infinite patience, often being willing to wait years to gain access to a single source, and rarely draining enough memories to have their loss immediately obvious to the victims or their friends. This patience may stem from the fact that being caught could be fatal, and then there would be no more chances to collect memories. In rare cases, such as encountering a lone wanderer in the wilds, Solorassil may take more extreme steps. Generally, if the wanderer is not expected somewhere (as seen in their memories), Solorassil may take far more from their minds, potentially almost all they remember, before killing them to destroy the evidence. This is because the chance of discovery is low, while the addition to his stock of memories is substantial. One cannot steal memories without some risk, after all. His motive for remaining at the Pen keep is simple enough. Should he wait long enough to seem not at all suspicious, there is a plentiful supply of victims for him to take a tithe of memories from, enough to make waiting worthwhile. The only risks before then, after all, are of people trying to cure his misted appearance and so discovering that it is natural to him. (You didn't think he was really human, did you?) Still to be considered: particular flaws apart from being cold, calculating and memory-collecting, as he is a bit one-dimensional Currently under consideration: greed (in the financial sense, not food), pride, hidden contempt for "ordinary" people, cowardice, any other flaw someone suggests Also to be considered: reasons for wanting memories Abilities Solorassil's main ability is his capacity to steal memories. The method he uses is obviously hostile and very difficult for a single victim to avoid, but leaves him highly vulnerable to others and is obviously hostile (I haven't decided quite how it will work yet). It also leaves the victim unaware of the attack, provided he has time to take the memories of the few seconds before his memory-draining took effect. The many memories he has stolen in the past provide him with a number of abilities. Certainly he has taken memories from a chef at some point in the past, and it is unknown precisely what other skills he has. One particular facet of this is magic. By stealing the memory of a spell, he may cast it himself, though it will vanish from his mental grasp once cast (as the power to cast it would also come from the mage's mind). Finally, Solorassil has strong mental capacity to judge consequences and probabilities; it is this which allows him to determine the best course of action to take for future gain. However, he tends to stop doing anything while thinking, which is a suspicious act he hasn't noticed himself yet. Equipment (None has actually been seen yet, due to the mists shrouding him) Ordinary clothing (where "ordinary" will have to remain undefined for now) 1 normal dagger 1 small wand of stunning, limited charges, not very powerful (easy to resist) I may add more as time goes by, but not in the middle of an adventure. Other I don't mind if someone writes in Solorassil's actions a bit, just don't go making him blurt out secrets. Also, I may at some point search for volunteers to have their characters' memories sifted (and I'll probably do it to one of my characters too). If so, I'd show the volunteer what I write before releasing it.

Catastrophically late, but still earlier than many entrants, a towering cake glides into the room on a wheeled table. The base is apparently chocolate, with an artful toffee staircase spiralling around four thick columns of an unidentified, pearly-white sugary substance. At the top of the staircase lies a dense fruit cake, artfully hollowed out to form a castle of sorts, and just barely strong enough to hold the wafers which support a third layer, which appears to be a pastry base filled with icecream. Just looking at the whole cake is almost enough to bring on fits of toothache and burnt-out tastebuds. Stepping out from behind the cake, Solorassil takes in the scene before him... It appears that I have miscalculated. The only other entrant here provides a living dish, and most likely one who will not be eaten. I can only hope that this cake is so over-sweet that I get disqualified, for a first prize in anything would draw too much attention to me. Such attention would be dangerous, and might delay the gathering of any memories for weeks. I had better say something, because a lack of action regarding the scene before me could be seen as a lack of compassion, which again would delay my search for happy memories to steal. "Ahem. What's happening here? Surely Wyvern is not a meal! Quite apart from the suffering involved, who would stamp applications for new entrants to the Pen keep?" There, I hit just the right tone to make them trust my intention.

It seemed a fairly normal day on Airlith, and the blue-green sky held not a cloud to foreshadow events to come. Still, on that day, as many others, I was contemplating it as much as my work in architecture. I thought, as I often had, of what Home was, and pondered how an azure sky must have looked to our ancestors, and how strange the greenish tinge must have seemed to those few who survived the Fleeing. Ancient history now, certainly, but I've always been a bit of a dreamer, or at least I had up to that point. In any case, I tend to ramble on. We should get to the events which made that day important. As I sat there, pondering the eternity above, I felt a mental contact from my brother, Tarin. Ailar. I sighed and dragged my attention from the sky, and then accepted the contact - while most distance communication is through glass orbs or mirrors, I was close enough to Tarin to use direct mental communication without too much concern over stray thoughts. But I digress, once again. Tarin. Yes? I did not hide my irritation very well, but Tarin seemed excited enough not to notice. Have you heard? We've just made contact with Home! No, Tarin, I hadn't heard. You're the researcher, I'm just an architect, remember? We don't get told these things the instant they happen. Certainly he felt the sarcasm and bitterness there, but it was not so surprising, as we had been over this many times. I was always the more brilliant student, the faster learner, while he always worked harder and ended up doing better. A dreamer I remained, and so it was Tarin who impressed the Universities enough to go into magical research. Still, he knew my bitterness was not directed at him. Yes, Ailar, I remember. I'm sorry I brought it up. You're too hard on yourself. Anyway, this represents a new opportunity for you. Having opened a portal to Home, I'm sure the High Council will soon be calling for volunteers to go through and see the old world again, maybe negotiate with the Burners. Haven't you always dreamed of seeing Home again? Thankyou for telling me, Tarin, but I don't think I'll be going. No doubt the reality of the Burners would shatter my illusions of what that world was like. Anyway, they'd never let me go, unless there was a settlement there for me to build for. Oh, come on. You know you want to go, you're just making excuses for not trying because you're afraid of being turned down and disappointed. I'll tell you what, I'll volunteer on the condition they let you go too. Then there won't be any reason to worry. You know me too well, brother, and I you. I can tell you're almost as eager as I am, so if you get the chance you should go whether I can or not. We finished "speaking" and I turned away, nervous but excited. I had something to aim for, something aligned with my inclinations. Perhaps it was something I could achieve precisely because of the dreams which formerly held me back.

The main door of the office slams open, nearly falling off its cheap hinges, and a towering orc - Sir Ordolar - marches in with a clatter of steel boots on stone. Seeing the remnants of the small fire, and remembering the shouting, Ordolar suddenly turns and tears the door from those same hinges, before marching over to the fire and slamming the door down to choke it. Seeing that minor threat neutralized, and ignoring the surprise and shock evident through the room (particularly from Wyvern, whose clawed toes were inches from the broken door), Ordolar turns to C and speaks in a voice absent the usual orcish growl; "Ah, a newcomer! Greetings, and welcome to the Pen keep. I am Ordolar, a knight of Aasharam." He then steps back, realizing (albeit rather late) that his entrance and towering height make him appear quite intimidating and potentially hostile. An orc's nature is not suited to social graces, after all.

To whomever owns this castle, This kingdom is abominably cold - Silence, servant, and write what I say! No, not tha- (there is a large hole scorched through the parchment) How terribly annoying! I am now forced to write this in my own hand. In any case, as I was saying, this kingdom of yours is freezing, and I detest the cold. As you seem unwilling to expend any of your bountiful magic on heating the country, the cold wind occasionally blows into my kingdom. The only solution I see to this annoyance is to make a bonfire of that marble city of yours, so I can stand in it and not freeze. In conclusion, Hjolnai

Thanks for your feedback, and I see what you mean with the Spanish flu. I'll see what I can come up with to replace it. Here's one possibility... Once you're dead it will not end, for many more have you frightened. The fear then kindles a bright spark a spark of war, another dark. Another rises, conquers more, covers all the fields with gore. Life and death bring blood and pain, the cycle rolls back on again.