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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The Leaving of Solivagus


Solivagus

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Solivagus sighed as he took one final look around his tower. He wouldn't be returning for two whole weeks. It wasn't that he objected to his duties to Neutrality, but he did wish they had let him spend more time amongst the tight night group of people he had come to see as his friends. Realising he was simply trying to dely his departure, he set of down the staircase and out of the exit.

 

Just as he was about to leave, he thought suddenly of Wyvern. There we some valuable artifacts that he had no doubt would go missing if unprotected. Planting the base of his half-white, half-black staff upon the ground, he began to mutter incantations in a low murmer. As he did so, he sent his mind outwards, seeking the mystical plains where he had allies. His chanting grew louder, more silibant as he reached across the vast gulfs of reality. He became incased in a shi,mmering aura of power, the stones blackening beneath his feet from the magical discharge.

 

Finally, he reached the demonic plane, the realm of vast power, but unimaginable power. It was a realm ruled by Chaos, yet he had allies here even so. Slowly his tower began to shimmer, barely noticable at first, yet growing more pronounced each second. Then it was gone, transported onto the demonic plane until he returned. Solivagus's head threatend to droop with weariness, but he had no time for weakness. He had a mission to perform. Taking a firm grip on his Staff, he strode away from the Keep.

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