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<blockquote data-quote="spyscribe" data-source="post: 1141090" data-attributes="member: 5808"><p><em>(Hey Porthos, glad you're enjoying the story. We think Fajitas' world is pretty neat too. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /></em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>dpdx: get set, because here comes...)</em></p><p></p><p><strong>Part the Fifth: </strong></p><p><em>In which: A diamond is a Wizard’s best friend.</em></p><p></p><p> The Mages Academy is an inconspicuous set of buildings right in the heart of Dar Pykos. It covers roughly four city blocks, but where the streets should be is instead a large grass quad. If you didn’t know where you were, you could walk straight onto the campus of the only school for the arcane arts in the Confederacy, thinking only that you had walked into some kind of civic park.</p><p></p><p> The main buildings are in varying styles, mostly stone. Students practice their spell-casting in the quad, with professors standing by to contain any mishaps. The party pauses to watch as one young wizard manages to cause his own right leg to grow to disproportionate size. Anvil shakes his head and mutters something about safety. Reyu is somewhat surprised to hear Lira wonder under her breath, “Why do people study this stuff?”</p><p></p><p> “Not everyone is fortunate enough to have your gift,” the Elf points out.</p><p></p><p> Lira gives a ladylike snort. “Not everyone would call it a gift.”</p><p></p><p> A few polite questions lead the group to Professor Alexandra’s workshop in the School of Artificy. The Professor is a middle-aged woman whose face is lined more from worry than age. Her hair is up in a no-nonsense bun, from which several stray wisps have escaped. At the moment, she is in the middle of a lesson to a group of first-year students, among them, Amelia. </p><p></p><p> The party catches her eye as they enter the room. “Yes, what is it?” she hisses. “Can’t you see I’m the middle of a lesson?”</p><p></p><p> Anvil takes charge. “We were sent by Tenacious the Just, from the Temple of Justice. He said that—"</p><p></p><p> But the moment Anvil mentions Tenacious’s name, Professor Alexandra’s demeanor changes. “Yes! Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. Please, please come in.” She sets the students to work on their own and takes the group to a corner to explain her situation.</p><p></p><p> The Professor had made arrangement to buy a large diamond from Gurn Stoneshaper, a dwarven miner, at a price of 1,500 GP. The contract had been made and signed, but when she sent payment, the dwarf simply sent her money back with no explanation. She sent him 2,000 gold pieces next and the money was duly returned along with a flat refusal to sell, although without any reason.</p><p></p><p> “Well, if the money has been returned, what do you want us to do?” asks Anvil.</p><p></p><p> “I want the diamond,” explains Professor Alexandra. “It’s crucial for my research. I’ve theorized that gemstones, particularly valuable diamonds, may have great potential as foci or components for powerful arcane spells. I’ve had encouraging results from smaller stones, but I’m at a dead end unless I get a larger one. Besides, we had an agreement. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t sell to me.”</p><p></p><p> Although dubious that they will be particularly persuasive, the party agrees to go to the Dwarven mines near Dar Und and make Gurn Stoneshaper another offer. She gives them 1500 gold, the agreed upon price. The Professor has one other request. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’d like to send my own agent as well, who can speak for me in negotiations.” No one in the party voices any objections, so she motions for her assistant, Edmund, to join them.</p><p> </p><p>He’s a third-year student, about 18. A pair of spectacles perch on the far end of his nose, and he looks at the party over them, not through them. He wears the plain robes of a Mage’s Academy student, which are slightly too short for his gangly arms and legs, and he carries a bulging portfolio of vellum of various types and sizes and a specially designed case for quills and ink. </p><p></p><p> “Edmund, these are the people I spoke to you about. I’d like you to go with them to speak to the Dwarves.”</p><p></p><p>“Absolutely, Professor,” he responds, in clipped upper-class tones. “You can count on me. I won’t let you down, rest assured. With this stout looking group at my back, I shall not return without that diamond.”</p><p></p><p>He turns dramatically and starts for the door. “Very well then, let’s be off.” </p><p></p><p>He stops when he realizes the party is not following him. Edmund smiles at them condescendingly, as if he hadn’t quite made himself clear. “I said, we should probably be off. It is a long journey, lots to do, miles to go, hmmm?”</p><p></p><p>The party stares at him with a mixture of dislike and disbelief. His smile falters under the weight of their stares. “Well… it is, isn’t it?” he stammers.</p><p></p><p>Rather than answer, the members of the party find excuses to spend a few minutes getting final details from Professor Alexandra and making their good-byes. </p><p></p><p>Once back on the street Edmund takes the lead again, heading directly for the city gates. “Right. Well, now we’re off then. Good to be on the road, isn’t it? Not that I’ve traveled much before, but I have read extensively on the subject, and from all I’ve learned…” He trails off when he notices the party is heading in the opposite direction.</p><p></p><p>“What now?”</p><p></p><p>Anvil fixes the young mage with a steely look. “You assume an attitude of authority. It is unwarranted.” With that, he begins walking towards the Temple.</p><p></p><p>Edmund blinks in shock. “I-I don’t understand. You are all in the employ of Professor Alexandra, and I’m her assistant. She has given you your orders. I-I don’t understand the reason for the delay.”</p><p></p><p>Reyu takes pity on the young human, just a baby after all. “We need to collect our things for the journey. Cloaks, food, bedrolls. Surely you have preparations to make as well?”</p><p></p><p>Edmund is even more taken aback. “I… I assumed that had been taken care of. I mean, you’re here to provide those things, aren’t you?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m sure we can… manage,” Reyu assures him. When one has already seen more than 100 winters pass, patience is easier to come by than for the younger races.</p><p></p><p>The party scatters to collect their things from their various lodgings. </p><p></p><p>******</p><p></p><p>Reyu finishes her packing quickly and goes to find Anvil. He is attempting to requisition a crossbow for the journey. Perhaps remembering that this is the same Justicar who returned from his last trip light by one cart and a good mule, the Quartermaster is somewhat grudging as he hands over the weapon.</p><p></p><p>“Don’t loose it,” he warns Anvil. “It’s our only one.”</p><p></p><p>Reyu quirks an eyebrow. “Your only one?”</p><p></p><p>Anvil sighs and shakes his head. “Somehow, we wound up with 800 bolts and one crossbow. Don’t ask me how that happened.”</p><p></p><p>******</p><p></p><p>Delays and Edmund’s impatience aside, the party gets on their way by midday. Thatch leads the party astride Bob who seems pleased to be out of the city stables and on the road again. Dennis follows beside on foot, often pointing out landmarks and potential sites for ambush to the young fighter as they go. Anvil also walks, his contemplation of Justice only interrupted by the unconscious grinding of his teeth as Edmund prattles on in the background about what an honor it was to be chosen from this assignment, and how he was the obvious choice because of all his arcane academic accomplishments.</p><p></p><p>Lira, riding beside him in the cart that Reyu drives, bears the brunt of Edmund’s discourse. With nothing of interest on the road she had been passing the time reading Edmund’s notes over his shoulder. As far as she can tell he is in the midst of composing an elaborate and long-winded treatise that boils down to the fact that lamb and kid vellum are equally good for making scrolls. Then, Edmund notices her reading.</p><p></p><p>“I can explain to you what this is all about if you like. It is rather complicated and technical.”</p><p></p><p>“No, I think I’ve got it.” Lira flashes Edmund a quick smile, and the young mage is temporarily left speechless. People do not often smile at Edmund. People like Lira, even more seldom.</p><p></p><p>“Are-are you sure? As I said, it is quite complicated for the layman. There’s no shame, of course, in not being able to--”</p><p></p><p>Lira shrugs. “I do have some magical background.”</p><p></p><p>Edmund’s eyes go wide with excitement. “Really? I never thought to meet an esteemed colleague on this journey. With whom do you study?”</p><p></p><p>Lira is almost positive she sees Reyu hide a smile. “Well… I don’t study as such. I was born to it.”</p><p></p><p>Edmund’s excitement drains away. “Oh. You’re one of <em>them</em>. Er, not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he says, rapidly backpedaling. “I mean, you do things your way; we do them ours. There’s nothing wrong with that, however simple your ways might be. There’s something primal and visceral about it, that inelegant, primitive force. And sorcery was a vital first step to the development of the more advanced arcane arts…” Now on a roll, Edmund happily keeps himself going the rest of the afternoon. Lira takes small comfort that if she has to listen to him talk her ear off, at least he drives Anvil to tooth-grinding distraction as well.</p><p></p><p>As the party approaches Dar Und, the quality of the road deteriorates, and most of the farms they pass along the way have been razed.</p><p></p><p> The party spends the night sleeping in the barn of one such farm hosted by the farmer, Toroth, and his family. Initially wary of the group, when Toroth sees they have a Justicar with them, he invites the party to stay and tells them of the bandits that have been troubling the area. Anvil promises him that the party will, “Smite them all.” Meanwhile, Reyu is fascinated by her first exposure to human children, and the children are equally fascinated to see their first real, live Elf. </p><p></p><p> As they leave the next day, Thatch looks out over the burned and broken fields and is reminded of why he didn’t stay home to be a farmer. Bob doesn’t seem to be missing his former life as a plow-horse either.</p><p></p><p> By mid-morning, Lira has gotten tired of listening to Edmund expound on the virtues of this vellum over that one and tries to get some better conversation out of her weasel.</p><p></p><p> “Oh!” Edmund exclaims, “You have a familiar! I hadn’t even realized you could. A weasel? Well, I suppose that’s all right. Simply everyone at school has a weasel.” </p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkOrange">Psssst. You want I should bite him, boss?</span> Euro thinks at Lira. Lira buries her head in her hands.</p><p></p><p>“Personally,” Edmund continues undeterred, “I’m saving myself for a pseudo-dragon—“</p><p></p><p> Everyone would have welcomed anything that would shut Edmund up, except he was cut off by Dennis shouting, “In the woods!” and an arrow going >thunk!< into the side of the cart.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="spyscribe, post: 1141090, member: 5808"] [i](Hey Porthos, glad you're enjoying the story. We think Fajitas' world is pretty neat too. :) dpdx: get set, because here comes...)[/i] [b]Part the Fifth: [/b] [i]In which: A diamond is a Wizard’s best friend.[/i] The Mages Academy is an inconspicuous set of buildings right in the heart of Dar Pykos. It covers roughly four city blocks, but where the streets should be is instead a large grass quad. If you didn’t know where you were, you could walk straight onto the campus of the only school for the arcane arts in the Confederacy, thinking only that you had walked into some kind of civic park. The main buildings are in varying styles, mostly stone. Students practice their spell-casting in the quad, with professors standing by to contain any mishaps. The party pauses to watch as one young wizard manages to cause his own right leg to grow to disproportionate size. Anvil shakes his head and mutters something about safety. Reyu is somewhat surprised to hear Lira wonder under her breath, “Why do people study this stuff?” “Not everyone is fortunate enough to have your gift,” the Elf points out. Lira gives a ladylike snort. “Not everyone would call it a gift.” A few polite questions lead the group to Professor Alexandra’s workshop in the School of Artificy. The Professor is a middle-aged woman whose face is lined more from worry than age. Her hair is up in a no-nonsense bun, from which several stray wisps have escaped. At the moment, she is in the middle of a lesson to a group of first-year students, among them, Amelia. The party catches her eye as they enter the room. “Yes, what is it?” she hisses. “Can’t you see I’m the middle of a lesson?” Anvil takes charge. “We were sent by Tenacious the Just, from the Temple of Justice. He said that—" But the moment Anvil mentions Tenacious’s name, Professor Alexandra’s demeanor changes. “Yes! Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. Please, please come in.” She sets the students to work on their own and takes the group to a corner to explain her situation. The Professor had made arrangement to buy a large diamond from Gurn Stoneshaper, a dwarven miner, at a price of 1,500 GP. The contract had been made and signed, but when she sent payment, the dwarf simply sent her money back with no explanation. She sent him 2,000 gold pieces next and the money was duly returned along with a flat refusal to sell, although without any reason. “Well, if the money has been returned, what do you want us to do?” asks Anvil. “I want the diamond,” explains Professor Alexandra. “It’s crucial for my research. I’ve theorized that gemstones, particularly valuable diamonds, may have great potential as foci or components for powerful arcane spells. I’ve had encouraging results from smaller stones, but I’m at a dead end unless I get a larger one. Besides, we had an agreement. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t sell to me.” Although dubious that they will be particularly persuasive, the party agrees to go to the Dwarven mines near Dar Und and make Gurn Stoneshaper another offer. She gives them 1500 gold, the agreed upon price. The Professor has one other request. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’d like to send my own agent as well, who can speak for me in negotiations.” No one in the party voices any objections, so she motions for her assistant, Edmund, to join them. He’s a third-year student, about 18. A pair of spectacles perch on the far end of his nose, and he looks at the party over them, not through them. He wears the plain robes of a Mage’s Academy student, which are slightly too short for his gangly arms and legs, and he carries a bulging portfolio of vellum of various types and sizes and a specially designed case for quills and ink. “Edmund, these are the people I spoke to you about. I’d like you to go with them to speak to the Dwarves.” “Absolutely, Professor,” he responds, in clipped upper-class tones. “You can count on me. I won’t let you down, rest assured. With this stout looking group at my back, I shall not return without that diamond.” He turns dramatically and starts for the door. “Very well then, let’s be off.” He stops when he realizes the party is not following him. Edmund smiles at them condescendingly, as if he hadn’t quite made himself clear. “I said, we should probably be off. It is a long journey, lots to do, miles to go, hmmm?” The party stares at him with a mixture of dislike and disbelief. His smile falters under the weight of their stares. “Well… it is, isn’t it?” he stammers. Rather than answer, the members of the party find excuses to spend a few minutes getting final details from Professor Alexandra and making their good-byes. Once back on the street Edmund takes the lead again, heading directly for the city gates. “Right. Well, now we’re off then. Good to be on the road, isn’t it? Not that I’ve traveled much before, but I have read extensively on the subject, and from all I’ve learned…” He trails off when he notices the party is heading in the opposite direction. “What now?” Anvil fixes the young mage with a steely look. “You assume an attitude of authority. It is unwarranted.” With that, he begins walking towards the Temple. Edmund blinks in shock. “I-I don’t understand. You are all in the employ of Professor Alexandra, and I’m her assistant. She has given you your orders. I-I don’t understand the reason for the delay.” Reyu takes pity on the young human, just a baby after all. “We need to collect our things for the journey. Cloaks, food, bedrolls. Surely you have preparations to make as well?” Edmund is even more taken aback. “I… I assumed that had been taken care of. I mean, you’re here to provide those things, aren’t you?” “I’m sure we can… manage,” Reyu assures him. When one has already seen more than 100 winters pass, patience is easier to come by than for the younger races. The party scatters to collect their things from their various lodgings. ****** Reyu finishes her packing quickly and goes to find Anvil. He is attempting to requisition a crossbow for the journey. Perhaps remembering that this is the same Justicar who returned from his last trip light by one cart and a good mule, the Quartermaster is somewhat grudging as he hands over the weapon. “Don’t loose it,” he warns Anvil. “It’s our only one.” Reyu quirks an eyebrow. “Your only one?” Anvil sighs and shakes his head. “Somehow, we wound up with 800 bolts and one crossbow. Don’t ask me how that happened.” ****** Delays and Edmund’s impatience aside, the party gets on their way by midday. Thatch leads the party astride Bob who seems pleased to be out of the city stables and on the road again. Dennis follows beside on foot, often pointing out landmarks and potential sites for ambush to the young fighter as they go. Anvil also walks, his contemplation of Justice only interrupted by the unconscious grinding of his teeth as Edmund prattles on in the background about what an honor it was to be chosen from this assignment, and how he was the obvious choice because of all his arcane academic accomplishments. Lira, riding beside him in the cart that Reyu drives, bears the brunt of Edmund’s discourse. With nothing of interest on the road she had been passing the time reading Edmund’s notes over his shoulder. As far as she can tell he is in the midst of composing an elaborate and long-winded treatise that boils down to the fact that lamb and kid vellum are equally good for making scrolls. Then, Edmund notices her reading. “I can explain to you what this is all about if you like. It is rather complicated and technical.” “No, I think I’ve got it.” Lira flashes Edmund a quick smile, and the young mage is temporarily left speechless. People do not often smile at Edmund. People like Lira, even more seldom. “Are-are you sure? As I said, it is quite complicated for the layman. There’s no shame, of course, in not being able to--” Lira shrugs. “I do have some magical background.” Edmund’s eyes go wide with excitement. “Really? I never thought to meet an esteemed colleague on this journey. With whom do you study?” Lira is almost positive she sees Reyu hide a smile. “Well… I don’t study as such. I was born to it.” Edmund’s excitement drains away. “Oh. You’re one of [I]them[/I]. Er, not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he says, rapidly backpedaling. “I mean, you do things your way; we do them ours. There’s nothing wrong with that, however simple your ways might be. There’s something primal and visceral about it, that inelegant, primitive force. And sorcery was a vital first step to the development of the more advanced arcane arts…” Now on a roll, Edmund happily keeps himself going the rest of the afternoon. Lira takes small comfort that if she has to listen to him talk her ear off, at least he drives Anvil to tooth-grinding distraction as well. As the party approaches Dar Und, the quality of the road deteriorates, and most of the farms they pass along the way have been razed. The party spends the night sleeping in the barn of one such farm hosted by the farmer, Toroth, and his family. Initially wary of the group, when Toroth sees they have a Justicar with them, he invites the party to stay and tells them of the bandits that have been troubling the area. Anvil promises him that the party will, “Smite them all.” Meanwhile, Reyu is fascinated by her first exposure to human children, and the children are equally fascinated to see their first real, live Elf. As they leave the next day, Thatch looks out over the burned and broken fields and is reminded of why he didn’t stay home to be a farmer. Bob doesn’t seem to be missing his former life as a plow-horse either. By mid-morning, Lira has gotten tired of listening to Edmund expound on the virtues of this vellum over that one and tries to get some better conversation out of her weasel. “Oh!” Edmund exclaims, “You have a familiar! I hadn’t even realized you could. A weasel? Well, I suppose that’s all right. Simply everyone at school has a weasel.” [COLOR=DarkOrange]Psssst. You want I should bite him, boss?[/COLOR] Euro thinks at Lira. Lira buries her head in her hands. “Personally,” Edmund continues undeterred, “I’m saving myself for a pseudo-dragon—“ Everyone would have welcomed anything that would shut Edmund up, except he was cut off by Dennis shouting, “In the woods!” and an arrow going >thunk!< into the side of the cart. [/QUOTE]
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