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<blockquote data-quote="Nonlethal Force" data-source="post: 3004778" data-attributes="member: 35788"><p>Rhema’s jaw nearly hit the floor as Brandt asserted the necessity for Ischarus to stay. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“But that’ll mean …”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus, not Brandt, cut Rhema’s complaint off. <span style="color: LightBlue">“That’ll mean that I have a reason to stay hear in Fingerdale and not travel on my broken leg. I’ll be in the care of someone who knows where to get me healing if anything goes wrong. And it’ll likely only be for a few weeks anyway.”</span></p><p></p><p>Rhema shot a disapproving glance to Ischarus and then turned to Charis and Semeion for support. Semeion was smart enough to stay out of this battle between friends. Charis returned Rhema’s look with a smile and a suggestion of her own. <span style="color: Orange">“Well, certainly Ischarus can’t be in training all of his time here. Perhaps that’ll give us an excuse to come to Fingerdale once a day and see how he is progressing? Besides, you all have been telling me that I need more practice to become accustomed to the ways of a civilized lifestyle. We could come to Fingerdale to visit Ischarus briefly and then spend the rest of the day shopping and teaching me how to do the stuff that city people do.”</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt originally thought of objecting to Charis’ idea, knowing that Ischarus’ time would be valuable. Yet as Charis spoke he found himself seeing the wisdom in her argument as well as knowing that Rhema would likely find it a satisfactory solution. <span style="color: Lime">“As the one who would be administering wisdom along Ischarus’ quest, I suppose it would be possible for me to build a small amount of free time into his quest – say an hour after noon each day? We’ll need to stop his training to eat regardless, and I do not get much in the means of company due to my intentionally sheltered life.”</span></p><p></p><p>Rhema still looked dissatisfied, but logically she knew it was about as good an offer as she could hope to receive. As she thought, Semeion decided to add his opinion to the mix. <span style="color: Plum">“Besides, we do have work to accomplish here in Fingerdale. It is work that we were supposed to accomplish today but have not gotten done. Judging by the time that this mess with Grick as cost us, I doubt we’ll get any of it accomplished with what’s left of today. So we have to return home tonight and come back tomorrow anyway. It just makes sense for Ischarus to stay here and begin his necessary training under Brandt while we are already here. Besides, as Ischarus already said, he can’t travel tonight anyway.”</span></p><p></p><p>Rhema knew that she was finally defeated. To object now would only prove to everyone else what she was already feeling inside. She felt like a spoiled little girl who didn’t want to leave. She knew that she must rise above that immature instinctual reaction. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“Very well, then. The sooner we are off to head home the sooner Ischarus can begin his training.”</span> </p><p></p><p>Rhema looked down to Ischarus who was seated beside her and fought the urge to be sad. Her hand reached out and rested atop Ischarus’ right hand. She wasn’t sure if Ischarus’ earlier profession of love was sincere or a means of keeping Brandt from using the drake to destroy her, but either way she was making her affection know through this subtle act. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“So I suppose this is goodbye until tomorrow afternoon, then?”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus allowed the corners of his mouth to curl up in a slight smile as he recognized the emotional difficulty Rhema had in saying goodbye. He turned to look up at her, but his wince from the pain in his leg from the shift in positions told Rhema that he would not be rising to give her a hug. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Once I have found my new talents, my leg pain will be gone. I’ll be good as new, and we can actively find out just how many minions the red wyrm is willing to send after Charis.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus’ train of thought inspired Charis. <span style="color: Orange">“And perhaps we can take another quest into Quehalost and finish what you started the last time through!”</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt smiled and began to walk for the door to his office. <span style="color: Lime">“Perhaps. Although if I take you meaning to be finish the red wyrm, I think you might want to grow in a bit more power before you think of that.”</span></p><p></p><p>Charis looked surprised at Brandt’s suggestion. <span style="color: Orange">“You mean take on Grixanthrosilithiss? I would never think of doing such a thing head on! His might is terrific! I do not know if slaying him is even an option for simple mortals like us. Now perhaps your dragon father might be able to slay Grixanthrosilithiss. Rather, I was thinking of returning to the village and seeing who managed to flee and who was recaptured.”</span></p><p></p><p>Rhema smiled as she let out a soft breath through her nose as an amusing thought passed through her mind. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“I’d honestly like another shot at Druff, to be honest.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion saw his opportunity. He wrapped one of his arms around Rhema’s shoulders and began to walk her to the doorway. He looked back over his shoulder and gave a simple nod of goodbye to Ischarus and spoke in return to Rhema, <span style="color: Plum">“Somehow I imagine that Druff would like another shot at you, too.”</span> The three enjoyed a good laugh as Brandt showed them out of the temple office. Soon they were on their way back to Huetown.</p><p></p><p>Back inside Brandt’s office, the master returned to the pupil. <span style="color: Lime">“Now that we are alone, tell me why you have sought me out at this time.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus paused for a moment and collected his thoughts. His eyebrows wrinkled together and his lips pursed until he had cemented his thinking. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Far a few weeks now I have been having odd sensations in my right hand primarily. The sensations come and go, although most of them came when I was having memories of our last trip into Quehalost and the red wyrm’s village. Once and a while during my practice I would feel the sensation as I went through the motions of my fighting strokes with my sword during my daily rigor.”</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt leaned back in his chair, <span style="color: Lime">“Tell me more of these sensations. Describe to me how they feel within your body. Describing how your body reacts to them will help me understand their origin.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus immediately began again as if he was anticipating the question. <span style="color: LightBlue">“There are at times two distinct feelings. I feel these most noticeably during swordplay and practice. One of the sensations is not unlike the pins and needles feeling when an arm or a leg loses circulation for a short time. The other sensation is quite cold. It is as if the heat drains out of my arm. The rest of the sensations are not so easily distinguished from another.”</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt leaned forward, intrigued by Ischarus’ description. <span style="color: Lime">“I gathered from Rhema earlier that your swordplay is your livelihood. I suppose if you are undergoing your final step in maturity that it is much more than completely symbolic that your sword arm is affected by these feelings. I have a hunch, if you are prepared to listen. Although you will be in some pain, draw your sword. If I am right, the memory of the pain of combat may just intensify the transformation occurring within you for it to be observable. If that is true, then Grick may have done you a tremendous service.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus stood, fighting back the pain that shot through the muscles of his leg. With both hands he focused intently on removing the small leather straps that kept his sword in its scabbard and with a sudden spark of motion a metallic ring shot through the room. Ischarus’ sword was now poised and ready in his right hand. The sudden twisting motion of drawing the sword from its scabbard put tension upon his leg and he cried out in pain. His right hand gripped tightly around the hilt of his sword as it looked to ease the pain.</p><p></p><p>Brandt noticed a faint magical aura around Ischarus as the pain shot through his body. Following a master’s instincts, Brandt quickly held out his left hand and shouted to Ischarus, <span style="color: Lime">“Now, don’t think about it – just touch my wrist!”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus stretched his left arm forward and touched Brandt on his left wrist. Instantly the smell of melting flesh filled the room. Brandt stepped backwards from where Ischarus stood but before he had moved he looked at Ischarus and saw the magical aura move from his right hand through his body and discharge through his extended left hand. Brandt looked down at the flesh on his hand and saw that it had been burned as if a flask of burning oil had been poured over the skin. As Brandt looked down at his wrist, Ischarus likewise looked at what he had done to Brandt.</p><p></p><p>Ischarus spoke as the shock of the action caught up with him. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Sir, I meant no offense!”</span> Ischarus blurted out his apology at the surprise of seeing Brandt injured. <span style="color: LightBlue">“If I knew I was capable of injuring you in that manner I would not have touched you!”</span> Ischarus was horrified at his action.</p><p></p><p>Brandt grimaced through the pain. <span style="color: Lime">“When I told you to touch me I assumed that there would be injury to me. I did not expect an acid burn, however. Either way, with me it is little matter.”</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt stepped back from Ischarus another step and rested his right hand gently over the burned flesh of his left wrist. He spoke the simple words he had heard Charis speak elsewhere. <span style="color: Lime">“Bondras-tol Egro”</span> A white light emanated from his right hand through his wrist. In a matter of seconds his wrist was healed. When he moved his right hand, Ischarus saw that not even a scar remained where the acidic burns had once been.</p><p></p><p>Brandt flexed his wrist slightly and winced at the pain as Ischarus simply looked on in awe. <span style="color: Lime">“There now, I am good as new. My wrist will heal. And it would seem that we will both have subtle pain to remind us of your struggle while you learn your new gifts.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus replied and was still a bit embarrassed at injuring Brandt, even if it was unintentional. <span style="color: LightBlue">“You must believe me that I meant no harm.”</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt returned Ischarus’ apology with a kind smile and soft words. <span style="color: Lime">“There is no harm done. Believe it or not, you just cast your first spell – and I believe it was of the arcane nature. Time will tell, Ischarus, as to whether your natural gift is of magic or religion. But given the way that it is manifesting and the fact that you are skilled at swordplay, I would assume it is arcane.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus unintentionally cocked his head to the left as Brandt gave his revelation into Ischarus’ transformation. <span style="color: LightBlue">“You mean I can cast spells? But, I’m a swordsman! I’m not a spell caster like Semeion!”</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt placed his right hand on Ischarus’ left shoulder. <span style="color: Lime">“Sheath your sword and have a seat, Ischarus. It would seem that we have a bit of learning to do. And remember, you are only at the beginning of your journey. My guess is that neither you nor I can foresee where these things will take you in the end.”</span></p><p></p><p>[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]</p><p>Rhema’s jaw nearly hit the floor as Brandt asserted the necessity for Ischarus to stay. “But that’ll mean …”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus, not Brandt, cut Rhema’s complaint off. “That’ll mean that I have a reason to stay hear in Fingerdale and not travel on my broken leg. I’ll be in the care of someone who knows where to get me healing if anything goes wrong. And it’ll likely only be for a few weeks anyway.”</p><p></p><p>Rhema shot a disapproving glance to Ischarus and then turned to Charis and Semeion for support. Semeion was smart enough to stay out of this battle between friends. Charis returned Rhema’s look with a smile and a suggestion of her own. “Well, certainly Ischarus can’t be in training all of his time here. Perhaps that’ll give us an excuse to come to Fingerdale once a day and see how he is progressing? Besides, you all have been telling me that I need more practice to become accustomed to the ways of a civilized lifestyle. We could come to Fingerdale to visit Ischarus briefly and then spend the rest of the day shopping and teaching me how to do the stuff that city people do.”</p><p></p><p>Brandt originally thought of objecting to Charis’ idea, knowing that Ischarus’ time would be valuable. Yet as Charis spoke he found himself seeing the wisdom in her argument as well as knowing that Rhema would likely find it a satisfactory solution. “As the one who would be administering wisdom along Ischarus’ quest, I suppose it would be possible for me to build a small amount of free time into his quest – say an hour after noon each day? We’ll need to stop his training to eat regardless, and I do not get much in the means of company due to my intentionally sheltered life.”</p><p></p><p>Rhema still looked dissatisfied, but logically she knew it was about as good an offer as she could hope to receive. As she thought, Semeion decided to add his opinion to the mix. “Besides, we do have work to accomplish here in Fingerdale. It is work that we were supposed to accomplish today but have not gotten done. Judging by the time that this mess with Grick as cost us, I doubt we’ll get any of it accomplished with what’s left of today. So we have to return home tonight and come back tomorrow anyway. It just makes sense for Ischarus to stay here and begin his necessary training under Brandt while we are already here. Besides, as Ischarus already said, he can’t travel tonight anyway.”</p><p></p><p>Rhema knew that she was finally defeated. To object now would only prove to everyone else what she was already feeling inside. She felt like a spoiled little girl who didn’t want to leave. She knew that she must rise above that immature instinctual reaction. “Very well, then. The sooner we are off to head home the sooner Ischarus can begin his training.” </p><p></p><p>Rhema looked down to Ischarus who was seated beside her and fought the urge to be sad. Her hand reached out and rested atop Ischarus’ right hand. She wasn’t sure if Ischarus’ earlier profession of love was sincere or a means of keeping Brandt from using the drake to destroy her, but either way she was making her affection know through this subtle act. “So I suppose this is goodbye until tomorrow afternoon, then?”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus allowed the corners of his mouth to curl up in a slight smile as he recognized the emotional difficulty Rhema had in saying goodbye. He turned to look up at her, but his wince from the pain in his leg from the shift in positions told Rhema that he would not be rising to give her a hug. “Once I have found my new talents, my leg pain will be gone. I’ll be good as new, and we can actively find out just how many minions the red wyrm is willing to send after Charis.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus’ train of thought inspired Charis. “And perhaps we can take another quest into Quehalost and finish what you started the last time through!”</p><p></p><p>Brandt smiled and began to walk for the door to his office. “Perhaps. Although if I take you meaning to be finish the red wyrm, I think you might want to grow in a bit more power before you think of that.”</p><p></p><p>Charis looked surprised at Brandt’s suggestion. “You mean take on Grixanthrosilithiss? I would never think of doing such a thing head on! His might is terrific! I do not know if slaying him is even an option for simple mortals like us. Now perhaps your dragon father might be able to slay Grixanthrosilithiss. Rather, I was thinking of returning to the village and seeing who managed to flee and who was recaptured.”</p><p></p><p>Rhema smiled as she let out a soft breath through her nose as an amusing thought passed through her mind. “I’d honestly like another shot at Druff, to be honest.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion saw his opportunity. He wrapped one of his arms around Rhema’s shoulders and began to walk her to the doorway. He looked back over his shoulder and gave a simple nod of goodbye to Ischarus and spoke in return to Rhema, “Somehow I imagine that Druff would like another shot at you, too.” The three enjoyed a good laugh as Brandt showed them out of the temple office. Soon they were on their way back to Huetown.</p><p></p><p>Back inside Brandt’s office, the master returned to the pupil. “Now that we are alone, tell me why you have sought me out at this time.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus paused for a moment and collected his thoughts. His eyebrows wrinkled together and his lips pursed until he had cemented his thinking. “Far a few weeks now I have been having odd sensations in my right hand primarily. The sensations come and go, although most of them came when I was having memories of our last trip into Quehalost and the red wyrm’s village. Once and a while during my practice I would feel the sensation as I went through the motions of my fighting strokes with my sword during my daily rigor.”</p><p></p><p>Brandt leaned back in his chair, “Tell me more of these sensations. Describe to me how they feel within your body. Describing how your body reacts to them will help me understand their origin.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus immediately began again as if he was anticipating the question. “There are at times two distinct feelings. I feel these most noticeably during swordplay and practice. One of the sensations is not unlike the pins and needles feeling when an arm or a leg loses circulation for a short time. The other sensation is quite cold. It is as if the heat drains out of my arm. The rest of the sensations are not so easily distinguished from another.”</p><p></p><p>Brandt leaned forward, intrigued by Ischarus’ description. “I gathered from Rhema earlier that your swordplay is your livelihood. I suppose if you are undergoing your final step in maturity that it is much more than completely symbolic that your sword arm is affected by these feelings. I have a hunch, if you are prepared to listen. Although you will be in some pain, draw your sword. If I am right, the memory of the pain of combat may just intensify the transformation occurring within you for it to be observable. If that is true, then Grick may have done you a tremendous service.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus stood, fighting back the pain that shot through the muscles of his leg. With both hands he focused intently on removing the small leather straps that kept his sword in its scabbard and with a sudden spark of motion a metallic ring shot through the room. Ischarus’ sword was now poised and ready in his right hand. The sudden twisting motion of drawing the sword from its scabbard put tension upon his leg and he cried out in pain. His right hand gripped tightly around the hilt of his sword as it looked to ease the pain.</p><p></p><p>Brandt noticed a faint magical aura around Ischarus as the pain shot through his body. Following a master’s instincts, Brandt quickly held out his left hand and shouted to Ischarus, “Now, don’t think about it – just touch my wrist!”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus stretched his left arm forward and touched Brandt on his left wrist. Instantly the smell of melting flesh filled the room. Brandt stepped backwards from where Ischarus stood but before he had moved he looked at Ischarus and saw the magical aura move from his right hand through his body and discharge through his extended left hand. Brandt looked down at the flesh on his hand and saw that it had been burned as if a flask of burning oil had been poured over the skin. As Brandt looked down at his wrist, Ischarus likewise looked at what he had done to Brandt.</p><p></p><p>Ischarus spoke as the shock of the action caught up with him. “Sir, I meant no offense!” Ischarus blurted out his apology at the surprise of seeing Brandt injured. “If I knew I was capable of injuring you in that manner I would not have touched you!” Ischarus was horrified at his action.</p><p></p><p>Brandt grimaced through the pain. “When I told you to touch me I assumed that there would be injury to me. I did not expect an acid burn, however. Either way, with me it is little matter.”</p><p></p><p>Brandt stepped back from Ischarus another step and rested his right hand gently over the burned flesh of his left wrist. He spoke the simple words he had heard Charis speak elsewhere. “Bondras-tol Egro” A white light emanated from his right hand through his wrist. In a matter of seconds his wrist was healed. When he moved his right hand, Ischarus saw that not even a scar remained where the acidic burns had once been.</p><p></p><p>Brandt flexed his wrist slightly and winced at the pain as Ischarus simply looked on in awe. “There now, I am good as new. My wrist will heal. And it would seem that we will both have subtle pain to remind us of your struggle while you learn your new gifts.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus replied and was still a bit embarrassed at injuring Brandt, even if it was unintentional. “You must believe me that I meant no harm.”</p><p></p><p>Brandt returned Ischarus’ apology with a kind smile and soft words. “There is no harm done. Believe it or not, you just cast your first spell – and I believe it was of the arcane nature. Time will tell, Ischarus, as to whether your natural gift is of magic or religion. But given the way that it is manifesting and the fact that you are skilled at swordplay, I would assume it is arcane.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus unintentionally cocked his head to the left as Brandt gave his revelation into Ischarus’ transformation. “You mean I can cast spells? But, I’m a swordsman! I’m not a spell caster like Semeion!”</p><p></p><p>Brandt placed his right hand on Ischarus’ left shoulder. “Sheath your sword and have a seat, Ischarus. It would seem that we have a bit of learning to do. And remember, you are only at the beginning of your journey. My guess is that neither you nor I can foresee where these things will take you in the end.”[/Sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nonlethal Force, post: 3004778, member: 35788"] Rhema’s jaw nearly hit the floor as Brandt asserted the necessity for Ischarus to stay. [Color=PaleGreen]“But that’ll mean …”[/Color] Ischarus, not Brandt, cut Rhema’s complaint off. [Color=LightBlue]“That’ll mean that I have a reason to stay hear in Fingerdale and not travel on my broken leg. I’ll be in the care of someone who knows where to get me healing if anything goes wrong. And it’ll likely only be for a few weeks anyway.”[/Color] Rhema shot a disapproving glance to Ischarus and then turned to Charis and Semeion for support. Semeion was smart enough to stay out of this battle between friends. Charis returned Rhema’s look with a smile and a suggestion of her own. [Color=Orange]“Well, certainly Ischarus can’t be in training all of his time here. Perhaps that’ll give us an excuse to come to Fingerdale once a day and see how he is progressing? Besides, you all have been telling me that I need more practice to become accustomed to the ways of a civilized lifestyle. We could come to Fingerdale to visit Ischarus briefly and then spend the rest of the day shopping and teaching me how to do the stuff that city people do.”[/Color] Brandt originally thought of objecting to Charis’ idea, knowing that Ischarus’ time would be valuable. Yet as Charis spoke he found himself seeing the wisdom in her argument as well as knowing that Rhema would likely find it a satisfactory solution. [Color=Lime]“As the one who would be administering wisdom along Ischarus’ quest, I suppose it would be possible for me to build a small amount of free time into his quest – say an hour after noon each day? We’ll need to stop his training to eat regardless, and I do not get much in the means of company due to my intentionally sheltered life.”[/Color] Rhema still looked dissatisfied, but logically she knew it was about as good an offer as she could hope to receive. As she thought, Semeion decided to add his opinion to the mix. [Color=Plum]“Besides, we do have work to accomplish here in Fingerdale. It is work that we were supposed to accomplish today but have not gotten done. Judging by the time that this mess with Grick as cost us, I doubt we’ll get any of it accomplished with what’s left of today. So we have to return home tonight and come back tomorrow anyway. It just makes sense for Ischarus to stay here and begin his necessary training under Brandt while we are already here. Besides, as Ischarus already said, he can’t travel tonight anyway.”[/Color] Rhema knew that she was finally defeated. To object now would only prove to everyone else what she was already feeling inside. She felt like a spoiled little girl who didn’t want to leave. She knew that she must rise above that immature instinctual reaction. [Color=PaleGreen]“Very well, then. The sooner we are off to head home the sooner Ischarus can begin his training.”[/Color] Rhema looked down to Ischarus who was seated beside her and fought the urge to be sad. Her hand reached out and rested atop Ischarus’ right hand. She wasn’t sure if Ischarus’ earlier profession of love was sincere or a means of keeping Brandt from using the drake to destroy her, but either way she was making her affection know through this subtle act. [Color=PaleGreen]“So I suppose this is goodbye until tomorrow afternoon, then?”[/Color] Ischarus allowed the corners of his mouth to curl up in a slight smile as he recognized the emotional difficulty Rhema had in saying goodbye. He turned to look up at her, but his wince from the pain in his leg from the shift in positions told Rhema that he would not be rising to give her a hug. [Color=LightBlue]“Once I have found my new talents, my leg pain will be gone. I’ll be good as new, and we can actively find out just how many minions the red wyrm is willing to send after Charis.”[/Color] Ischarus’ train of thought inspired Charis. [Color=Orange]“And perhaps we can take another quest into Quehalost and finish what you started the last time through!”[/Color] Brandt smiled and began to walk for the door to his office. [Color=Lime]“Perhaps. Although if I take you meaning to be finish the red wyrm, I think you might want to grow in a bit more power before you think of that.”[/Color] Charis looked surprised at Brandt’s suggestion. [Color=Orange]“You mean take on Grixanthrosilithiss? I would never think of doing such a thing head on! His might is terrific! I do not know if slaying him is even an option for simple mortals like us. Now perhaps your dragon father might be able to slay Grixanthrosilithiss. Rather, I was thinking of returning to the village and seeing who managed to flee and who was recaptured.”[/Color] Rhema smiled as she let out a soft breath through her nose as an amusing thought passed through her mind. [Color=PaleGreen]“I’d honestly like another shot at Druff, to be honest.”[/Color] Semeion saw his opportunity. He wrapped one of his arms around Rhema’s shoulders and began to walk her to the doorway. He looked back over his shoulder and gave a simple nod of goodbye to Ischarus and spoke in return to Rhema, [Color=Plum]“Somehow I imagine that Druff would like another shot at you, too.”[/Color] The three enjoyed a good laugh as Brandt showed them out of the temple office. Soon they were on their way back to Huetown. Back inside Brandt’s office, the master returned to the pupil. [Color=Lime]“Now that we are alone, tell me why you have sought me out at this time.”[/Color] Ischarus paused for a moment and collected his thoughts. His eyebrows wrinkled together and his lips pursed until he had cemented his thinking. [Color=LightBlue]“Far a few weeks now I have been having odd sensations in my right hand primarily. The sensations come and go, although most of them came when I was having memories of our last trip into Quehalost and the red wyrm’s village. Once and a while during my practice I would feel the sensation as I went through the motions of my fighting strokes with my sword during my daily rigor.”[/Color] Brandt leaned back in his chair, [Color=Lime]“Tell me more of these sensations. Describe to me how they feel within your body. Describing how your body reacts to them will help me understand their origin.”[/Color] Ischarus immediately began again as if he was anticipating the question. [Color=LightBlue]“There are at times two distinct feelings. I feel these most noticeably during swordplay and practice. One of the sensations is not unlike the pins and needles feeling when an arm or a leg loses circulation for a short time. The other sensation is quite cold. It is as if the heat drains out of my arm. The rest of the sensations are not so easily distinguished from another.”[/Color] Brandt leaned forward, intrigued by Ischarus’ description. [Color=Lime]“I gathered from Rhema earlier that your swordplay is your livelihood. I suppose if you are undergoing your final step in maturity that it is much more than completely symbolic that your sword arm is affected by these feelings. I have a hunch, if you are prepared to listen. Although you will be in some pain, draw your sword. If I am right, the memory of the pain of combat may just intensify the transformation occurring within you for it to be observable. If that is true, then Grick may have done you a tremendous service.”[/Color] Ischarus stood, fighting back the pain that shot through the muscles of his leg. With both hands he focused intently on removing the small leather straps that kept his sword in its scabbard and with a sudden spark of motion a metallic ring shot through the room. Ischarus’ sword was now poised and ready in his right hand. The sudden twisting motion of drawing the sword from its scabbard put tension upon his leg and he cried out in pain. His right hand gripped tightly around the hilt of his sword as it looked to ease the pain. Brandt noticed a faint magical aura around Ischarus as the pain shot through his body. Following a master’s instincts, Brandt quickly held out his left hand and shouted to Ischarus, [Color=Lime]“Now, don’t think about it – just touch my wrist!”[/Color] Ischarus stretched his left arm forward and touched Brandt on his left wrist. Instantly the smell of melting flesh filled the room. Brandt stepped backwards from where Ischarus stood but before he had moved he looked at Ischarus and saw the magical aura move from his right hand through his body and discharge through his extended left hand. Brandt looked down at the flesh on his hand and saw that it had been burned as if a flask of burning oil had been poured over the skin. As Brandt looked down at his wrist, Ischarus likewise looked at what he had done to Brandt. Ischarus spoke as the shock of the action caught up with him. [Color=LightBlue]“Sir, I meant no offense!”[/Color] Ischarus blurted out his apology at the surprise of seeing Brandt injured. [Color=LightBlue]“If I knew I was capable of injuring you in that manner I would not have touched you!”[/Color] Ischarus was horrified at his action. Brandt grimaced through the pain. [Color=Lime]“When I told you to touch me I assumed that there would be injury to me. I did not expect an acid burn, however. Either way, with me it is little matter.”[/Color] Brandt stepped back from Ischarus another step and rested his right hand gently over the burned flesh of his left wrist. He spoke the simple words he had heard Charis speak elsewhere. [Color=Lime]“Bondras-tol Egro”[/Color] A white light emanated from his right hand through his wrist. In a matter of seconds his wrist was healed. When he moved his right hand, Ischarus saw that not even a scar remained where the acidic burns had once been. Brandt flexed his wrist slightly and winced at the pain as Ischarus simply looked on in awe. [Color=Lime]“There now, I am good as new. My wrist will heal. And it would seem that we will both have subtle pain to remind us of your struggle while you learn your new gifts.”[/Color] Ischarus replied and was still a bit embarrassed at injuring Brandt, even if it was unintentional. [Color=LightBlue]“You must believe me that I meant no harm.”[/Color] Brandt returned Ischarus’ apology with a kind smile and soft words. [Color=Lime]“There is no harm done. Believe it or not, you just cast your first spell – and I believe it was of the arcane nature. Time will tell, Ischarus, as to whether your natural gift is of magic or religion. But given the way that it is manifesting and the fact that you are skilled at swordplay, I would assume it is arcane.”[/Color] Ischarus unintentionally cocked his head to the left as Brandt gave his revelation into Ischarus’ transformation. [Color=LightBlue]“You mean I can cast spells? But, I’m a swordsman! I’m not a spell caster like Semeion!”[/Color] Brandt placed his right hand on Ischarus’ left shoulder. [Color=Lime]“Sheath your sword and have a seat, Ischarus. It would seem that we have a bit of learning to do. And remember, you are only at the beginning of your journey. My guess is that neither you nor I can foresee where these things will take you in the end.”[/Color] [Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section] Rhema’s jaw nearly hit the floor as Brandt asserted the necessity for Ischarus to stay. “But that’ll mean …” Ischarus, not Brandt, cut Rhema’s complaint off. “That’ll mean that I have a reason to stay hear in Fingerdale and not travel on my broken leg. I’ll be in the care of someone who knows where to get me healing if anything goes wrong. And it’ll likely only be for a few weeks anyway.” Rhema shot a disapproving glance to Ischarus and then turned to Charis and Semeion for support. Semeion was smart enough to stay out of this battle between friends. Charis returned Rhema’s look with a smile and a suggestion of her own. “Well, certainly Ischarus can’t be in training all of his time here. Perhaps that’ll give us an excuse to come to Fingerdale once a day and see how he is progressing? Besides, you all have been telling me that I need more practice to become accustomed to the ways of a civilized lifestyle. We could come to Fingerdale to visit Ischarus briefly and then spend the rest of the day shopping and teaching me how to do the stuff that city people do.” Brandt originally thought of objecting to Charis’ idea, knowing that Ischarus’ time would be valuable. Yet as Charis spoke he found himself seeing the wisdom in her argument as well as knowing that Rhema would likely find it a satisfactory solution. “As the one who would be administering wisdom along Ischarus’ quest, I suppose it would be possible for me to build a small amount of free time into his quest – say an hour after noon each day? We’ll need to stop his training to eat regardless, and I do not get much in the means of company due to my intentionally sheltered life.” Rhema still looked dissatisfied, but logically she knew it was about as good an offer as she could hope to receive. As she thought, Semeion decided to add his opinion to the mix. “Besides, we do have work to accomplish here in Fingerdale. It is work that we were supposed to accomplish today but have not gotten done. Judging by the time that this mess with Grick as cost us, I doubt we’ll get any of it accomplished with what’s left of today. So we have to return home tonight and come back tomorrow anyway. It just makes sense for Ischarus to stay here and begin his necessary training under Brandt while we are already here. Besides, as Ischarus already said, he can’t travel tonight anyway.” Rhema knew that she was finally defeated. To object now would only prove to everyone else what she was already feeling inside. She felt like a spoiled little girl who didn’t want to leave. She knew that she must rise above that immature instinctual reaction. “Very well, then. The sooner we are off to head home the sooner Ischarus can begin his training.” Rhema looked down to Ischarus who was seated beside her and fought the urge to be sad. Her hand reached out and rested atop Ischarus’ right hand. She wasn’t sure if Ischarus’ earlier profession of love was sincere or a means of keeping Brandt from using the drake to destroy her, but either way she was making her affection know through this subtle act. “So I suppose this is goodbye until tomorrow afternoon, then?” Ischarus allowed the corners of his mouth to curl up in a slight smile as he recognized the emotional difficulty Rhema had in saying goodbye. He turned to look up at her, but his wince from the pain in his leg from the shift in positions told Rhema that he would not be rising to give her a hug. “Once I have found my new talents, my leg pain will be gone. I’ll be good as new, and we can actively find out just how many minions the red wyrm is willing to send after Charis.” Ischarus’ train of thought inspired Charis. “And perhaps we can take another quest into Quehalost and finish what you started the last time through!” Brandt smiled and began to walk for the door to his office. “Perhaps. Although if I take you meaning to be finish the red wyrm, I think you might want to grow in a bit more power before you think of that.” Charis looked surprised at Brandt’s suggestion. “You mean take on Grixanthrosilithiss? I would never think of doing such a thing head on! His might is terrific! I do not know if slaying him is even an option for simple mortals like us. Now perhaps your dragon father might be able to slay Grixanthrosilithiss. Rather, I was thinking of returning to the village and seeing who managed to flee and who was recaptured.” Rhema smiled as she let out a soft breath through her nose as an amusing thought passed through her mind. “I’d honestly like another shot at Druff, to be honest.” Semeion saw his opportunity. He wrapped one of his arms around Rhema’s shoulders and began to walk her to the doorway. He looked back over his shoulder and gave a simple nod of goodbye to Ischarus and spoke in return to Rhema, “Somehow I imagine that Druff would like another shot at you, too.” The three enjoyed a good laugh as Brandt showed them out of the temple office. Soon they were on their way back to Huetown. Back inside Brandt’s office, the master returned to the pupil. “Now that we are alone, tell me why you have sought me out at this time.” Ischarus paused for a moment and collected his thoughts. His eyebrows wrinkled together and his lips pursed until he had cemented his thinking. “Far a few weeks now I have been having odd sensations in my right hand primarily. The sensations come and go, although most of them came when I was having memories of our last trip into Quehalost and the red wyrm’s village. Once and a while during my practice I would feel the sensation as I went through the motions of my fighting strokes with my sword during my daily rigor.” Brandt leaned back in his chair, “Tell me more of these sensations. Describe to me how they feel within your body. Describing how your body reacts to them will help me understand their origin.” Ischarus immediately began again as if he was anticipating the question. “There are at times two distinct feelings. I feel these most noticeably during swordplay and practice. One of the sensations is not unlike the pins and needles feeling when an arm or a leg loses circulation for a short time. The other sensation is quite cold. It is as if the heat drains out of my arm. The rest of the sensations are not so easily distinguished from another.” Brandt leaned forward, intrigued by Ischarus’ description. “I gathered from Rhema earlier that your swordplay is your livelihood. I suppose if you are undergoing your final step in maturity that it is much more than completely symbolic that your sword arm is affected by these feelings. I have a hunch, if you are prepared to listen. Although you will be in some pain, draw your sword. If I am right, the memory of the pain of combat may just intensify the transformation occurring within you for it to be observable. If that is true, then Grick may have done you a tremendous service.” Ischarus stood, fighting back the pain that shot through the muscles of his leg. With both hands he focused intently on removing the small leather straps that kept his sword in its scabbard and with a sudden spark of motion a metallic ring shot through the room. Ischarus’ sword was now poised and ready in his right hand. The sudden twisting motion of drawing the sword from its scabbard put tension upon his leg and he cried out in pain. His right hand gripped tightly around the hilt of his sword as it looked to ease the pain. Brandt noticed a faint magical aura around Ischarus as the pain shot through his body. Following a master’s instincts, Brandt quickly held out his left hand and shouted to Ischarus, “Now, don’t think about it – just touch my wrist!” Ischarus stretched his left arm forward and touched Brandt on his left wrist. Instantly the smell of melting flesh filled the room. Brandt stepped backwards from where Ischarus stood but before he had moved he looked at Ischarus and saw the magical aura move from his right hand through his body and discharge through his extended left hand. Brandt looked down at the flesh on his hand and saw that it had been burned as if a flask of burning oil had been poured over the skin. As Brandt looked down at his wrist, Ischarus likewise looked at what he had done to Brandt. Ischarus spoke as the shock of the action caught up with him. “Sir, I meant no offense!” Ischarus blurted out his apology at the surprise of seeing Brandt injured. “If I knew I was capable of injuring you in that manner I would not have touched you!” Ischarus was horrified at his action. Brandt grimaced through the pain. “When I told you to touch me I assumed that there would be injury to me. I did not expect an acid burn, however. Either way, with me it is little matter.” Brandt stepped back from Ischarus another step and rested his right hand gently over the burned flesh of his left wrist. He spoke the simple words he had heard Charis speak elsewhere. “Bondras-tol Egro” A white light emanated from his right hand through his wrist. In a matter of seconds his wrist was healed. When he moved his right hand, Ischarus saw that not even a scar remained where the acidic burns had once been. Brandt flexed his wrist slightly and winced at the pain as Ischarus simply looked on in awe. “There now, I am good as new. My wrist will heal. And it would seem that we will both have subtle pain to remind us of your struggle while you learn your new gifts.” Ischarus replied and was still a bit embarrassed at injuring Brandt, even if it was unintentional. “You must believe me that I meant no harm.” Brandt returned Ischarus’ apology with a kind smile and soft words. “There is no harm done. Believe it or not, you just cast your first spell – and I believe it was of the arcane nature. Time will tell, Ischarus, as to whether your natural gift is of magic or religion. But given the way that it is manifesting and the fact that you are skilled at swordplay, I would assume it is arcane.” Ischarus unintentionally cocked his head to the left as Brandt gave his revelation into Ischarus’ transformation. “You mean I can cast spells? But, I’m a swordsman! I’m not a spell caster like Semeion!” Brandt placed his right hand on Ischarus’ left shoulder. “Sheath your sword and have a seat, Ischarus. It would seem that we have a bit of learning to do. And remember, you are only at the beginning of your journey. My guess is that neither you nor I can foresee where these things will take you in the end.”[/Sblock] [/QUOTE]
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