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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7408695" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>I considered ending it with Bredan yelling to Quellan to look out, but figured this had a more natural flow.</p><p></p><p>I'm almost at the end of book 7. I haven't started book 8 yet, but I've been filling out my outline. Spoiler: it's time to split the party.</p><p></p><p>This week's posts will have a lot of exposition, but it's time to answer some of the questions raised earlier and to set up the main plot line for the rest of the story.</p><p></p><p>* * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 154</p><p></p><p>Glori had known Bredan for a long time, but she had never seen him so angry before. No, not just angry. He was <em>pissed</em>.</p><p></p><p>Their bootsteps echoed off of the surrounding walls as they made their way down the vaulted corridor. They came to a broad set of marble stairs, and without hesitation Bredan started up. Glori and the others had to hurry to keep up with him. She felt dirty in clothes stained with sweat and blood and other nastiness from the fighting in the sewers, but Bredan had not been willing to wait even for them to wash up and enjoy a hot meal. If he hadn’t needed a fresh set of clothes she doubted he would have even agreed to stop at the inn at all.</p><p></p><p>They made quite a scene, the five of them with their filthy garb and assorted gear. They’d had to leave their weapons at the main entry, but the wizards’ guards hadn’t otherwise tried to stop them. With the way Bredan had been acting, she’d thought that maybe they’d all end up getting arrested, but so far it seemed as if the leaders at the Apernium had been expecting their visit.</p><p></p><p>She felt an echo of some of Bredan’s anger, enough to understand the reasons for it. On their way here he’d told them some more of what he’d experienced while a captive of the strange cult that had descended from the survivors of the Silver Gauntlet. She’d felt a pang when he’d revealed how this “Pentar” had told him of her death, and that Bredan had been responsible for it.</p><p></p><p>The stairs wound around and around, steadily climbing the levels of the tower. They passed landing after landing, occasionally encountering robed figures who watched their progress without trying to interfere. Glori glanced over at Bredan, and from the look she saw on his face she could understand their reticence. Even without his armor and his huge sword he looked dangerous. He seemed to radiance confidence, driven by his righteous anger. He projected an air that felt alien to Glori. Her friend had been changed of late, even before the torture he’d experienced during his recent imprisonment, and she might have feared for the boy she’d known had it not been for the warmth with which he’d embraced her earlier.</p><p></p><p>She only hoped that he knew what he was doing. Just because he had a legitimate grievance with the wizards did not mean that they would tolerate anything.</p><p></p><p>“How many bloody stairs are in this place?” Xeeta asked as they passed still another level.</p><p></p><p>“This tower is the tallest structure in Severon, so I would imagine the answer is ‘many,’” Quellan said.</p><p></p><p>“I thought senior wizards were all old,” Xeeta said. “You’d think they would prefer the ground floor.”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps they use levitation, or even teleportation,” Quellan said. “In any case, in architecture height is a sign of status.”</p><p></p><p>“Let me guess, there’s a book somewhere entitled, <em>The Hidden Rules of Buildings</em>, or somesuch,” Xeeta said.</p><p></p><p>“Well, actually…”</p><p></p><p>“It doesn’t bloody matter,” Kosk said, cutting the two of them off.</p><p></p><p>“You never told us where you’d been the last few days,” Glori said over her shoulder.</p><p></p><p>“No, I didn’t,” Kosk said.</p><p></p><p>Any possible follow-up was preempted as they came to the end of the staircase. There was still another landing there, with a corridor that curved around the outer wall of the tower. But directly in front of them was a pair of tall, ornate doors decorated with what Glori judged to be an excess of gilt. Gregoros Konstantin was standing next to them, apparently awaiting their arrival.</p><p></p><p>Bredan went right up to the wizard. “You know why I’m here,” he said.</p><p></p><p>Konstantin inclined his head. “A Circle has been assembled. If you’ll come with me.”</p><p></p><p>He gestured, and the double doors swung open. Bredan barely waited until they were out of his way before he strode forward into the chamber beyond. Glori followed close behind, ready to intervene if the situation warranted. She did not know what a “Circle” was, but it sounded portentous.</p><p></p><p>After just a few steps she came to a stop, taken aback by what she saw.</p><p></p><p>From its size and the curve of the back wall, the chamber had to take up almost the entirety of this level of the tower. The peaked ceiling was at least thirty feet above them, supported by elaborate curving buttresses that looked almost architecturally impossible. Tall windows let in generous amounts of light, though there were dozens of glowing mage-lamps to augment that and ensure that not even the deepest corner was hidden in shadow. The room itself was arranged in the style of an amphitheater, with raised tiers that followed the curve of the outer wall, forming a semicircle that faced a raised dais ten paces across in the center of the chamber. The tiers were populated with an assortment of padded benches and small writing desks, along with the occasional framed wooden booths that likely were reserved for individuals of particular prominence.</p><p></p><p>Those tiers all appeared to be empty at the moment, as the people waiting for them were gathered around a six-sided table situated on the edge of the central dais. There were twelve chairs around the table, three of which were occupied as they came in. Glori didn’t recognize any of them, but all had the look of what she imagined to be the archetype of a wizard. The man and woman were both old and dignified in their ornate robes and snowy white hair, but she was surprised to see that the third member of the Circle was a gnome, tiny within the oversized chair, his bushy white eyebrows and broad mustache bristling around the protruding mass of his nose. Glori could feel the collective weight of their combined stares as they fixed them upon the intruders. Even Bredan had been given pause by that intensity, she noted, but he quickly recovered and after hunching up his shoulders strode over to the dais to meet them.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7408695, member: 143"] I considered ending it with Bredan yelling to Quellan to look out, but figured this had a more natural flow. I'm almost at the end of book 7. I haven't started book 8 yet, but I've been filling out my outline. Spoiler: it's time to split the party. This week's posts will have a lot of exposition, but it's time to answer some of the questions raised earlier and to set up the main plot line for the rest of the story. * * * Chapter 154 Glori had known Bredan for a long time, but she had never seen him so angry before. No, not just angry. He was [i]pissed[/i]. Their bootsteps echoed off of the surrounding walls as they made their way down the vaulted corridor. They came to a broad set of marble stairs, and without hesitation Bredan started up. Glori and the others had to hurry to keep up with him. She felt dirty in clothes stained with sweat and blood and other nastiness from the fighting in the sewers, but Bredan had not been willing to wait even for them to wash up and enjoy a hot meal. If he hadn’t needed a fresh set of clothes she doubted he would have even agreed to stop at the inn at all. They made quite a scene, the five of them with their filthy garb and assorted gear. They’d had to leave their weapons at the main entry, but the wizards’ guards hadn’t otherwise tried to stop them. With the way Bredan had been acting, she’d thought that maybe they’d all end up getting arrested, but so far it seemed as if the leaders at the Apernium had been expecting their visit. She felt an echo of some of Bredan’s anger, enough to understand the reasons for it. On their way here he’d told them some more of what he’d experienced while a captive of the strange cult that had descended from the survivors of the Silver Gauntlet. She’d felt a pang when he’d revealed how this “Pentar” had told him of her death, and that Bredan had been responsible for it. The stairs wound around and around, steadily climbing the levels of the tower. They passed landing after landing, occasionally encountering robed figures who watched their progress without trying to interfere. Glori glanced over at Bredan, and from the look she saw on his face she could understand their reticence. Even without his armor and his huge sword he looked dangerous. He seemed to radiance confidence, driven by his righteous anger. He projected an air that felt alien to Glori. Her friend had been changed of late, even before the torture he’d experienced during his recent imprisonment, and she might have feared for the boy she’d known had it not been for the warmth with which he’d embraced her earlier. She only hoped that he knew what he was doing. Just because he had a legitimate grievance with the wizards did not mean that they would tolerate anything. “How many bloody stairs are in this place?” Xeeta asked as they passed still another level. “This tower is the tallest structure in Severon, so I would imagine the answer is ‘many,’” Quellan said. “I thought senior wizards were all old,” Xeeta said. “You’d think they would prefer the ground floor.” “Perhaps they use levitation, or even teleportation,” Quellan said. “In any case, in architecture height is a sign of status.” “Let me guess, there’s a book somewhere entitled, [i]The Hidden Rules of Buildings[/i], or somesuch,” Xeeta said. “Well, actually…” “It doesn’t bloody matter,” Kosk said, cutting the two of them off. “You never told us where you’d been the last few days,” Glori said over her shoulder. “No, I didn’t,” Kosk said. Any possible follow-up was preempted as they came to the end of the staircase. There was still another landing there, with a corridor that curved around the outer wall of the tower. But directly in front of them was a pair of tall, ornate doors decorated with what Glori judged to be an excess of gilt. Gregoros Konstantin was standing next to them, apparently awaiting their arrival. Bredan went right up to the wizard. “You know why I’m here,” he said. Konstantin inclined his head. “A Circle has been assembled. If you’ll come with me.” He gestured, and the double doors swung open. Bredan barely waited until they were out of his way before he strode forward into the chamber beyond. Glori followed close behind, ready to intervene if the situation warranted. She did not know what a “Circle” was, but it sounded portentous. After just a few steps she came to a stop, taken aback by what she saw. From its size and the curve of the back wall, the chamber had to take up almost the entirety of this level of the tower. The peaked ceiling was at least thirty feet above them, supported by elaborate curving buttresses that looked almost architecturally impossible. Tall windows let in generous amounts of light, though there were dozens of glowing mage-lamps to augment that and ensure that not even the deepest corner was hidden in shadow. The room itself was arranged in the style of an amphitheater, with raised tiers that followed the curve of the outer wall, forming a semicircle that faced a raised dais ten paces across in the center of the chamber. The tiers were populated with an assortment of padded benches and small writing desks, along with the occasional framed wooden booths that likely were reserved for individuals of particular prominence. Those tiers all appeared to be empty at the moment, as the people waiting for them were gathered around a six-sided table situated on the edge of the central dais. There were twelve chairs around the table, three of which were occupied as they came in. Glori didn’t recognize any of them, but all had the look of what she imagined to be the archetype of a wizard. The man and woman were both old and dignified in their ornate robes and snowy white hair, but she was surprised to see that the third member of the Circle was a gnome, tiny within the oversized chair, his bushy white eyebrows and broad mustache bristling around the protruding mass of his nose. Glori could feel the collective weight of their combined stares as they fixed them upon the intruders. Even Bredan had been given pause by that intensity, she noted, but he quickly recovered and after hunching up his shoulders strode over to the dais to meet them. [/QUOTE]
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