"Out of the Frying Pan" - Book II: Catching the Spark (Part One)


nemmerle said:

Anc, You are thinking of Tom the Silver. :D

Maybe I should do an "Out of the Frying Pan" Glossary

Me too I was confused by all those "Name the Color" mages. Martin the Green, Tom the Silver, Richard the Red...

A Glosary is a good idea :) :)

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Moderator Emeritus
Session #21 (Part III)

“Wha- what are you doing here?” Martin stuttered.

“I am here on a mission for the Academy,” Richard the Red said. “Come up to the top step, and have your companions step away and I will come out and talk with you.”

“Do you not trust a fellow Alumnus?” Martin asked.

“You, I trust. Your companions I am not to sure about,” Richard’s smile shone.

The party discussed it and it was agreed. Martin climbed the lower steps, and the party stepped back about five feet. The double doors of the enclave opened with a groan and a moment later, Richard the Red emerged. He was not overly tall, but had a stately posture when he walked, almost gliding down the stairs. His robes were varying shades of red, like the fire of a forge, and he is hair was a dull red fire as well, liked heated brass. And it was long, shoulder-length, put back in a braided pony tail in the Thrician style. (48) He had thick beard, but trimmed close to his face, and bright blue eyes that shone like the ocean on a sunny day. Richard smiled broadly as he put out his hand to shake Martin’s. Martin the Green took his hand hesitantly. He did not smile.

“I heard the Watch-Mage of Gothanius died recently,” Richard said, his face becoming grave only for a second. “Did I hear wrong?”

“You must mean Tom the Silver (49),” Martin replied. “He did die. I am his replacement in the interim before the Academy chooses a more permanent replacement. Actually, I am quite surprised to find another Watch-Mage here. I was certain I was the only one to be sent here.”

“Well, they do not always tell us what all our brethren are doing, especially not a less experienced more recent graduate. When did you graduate? Five Sixty -One?”

“Five Sixty- Three,” replied Martin.

“Then you probably knew my son, Gregori,” Martin said with a smile. “He graduated in Five Sixty. They tell me he was the color brown. Gregori the Brown. (50) I have not seen my son in too long.”

“Yes, I remember him,” said Martin. “He was two or three years older then I was, so I did not know him well.”

“So, look,” Richard put his hand on his hip. “I’m going to assume that your mission is less important than mine. So why don’t you move along. I have everything under control.”

“Under control? Whatever do you mean?” Martin asked. “What is going on here?”

“I am not at liberty to tell you. I’m sorry,” said Richard. “All I’ll say is that it is a joint venture between the Academy of Wizardry and the elves of Tempestas.” (51)

“Well, we came here to consult with the elves, and to find an old ally of my companions,” Martin explained. “I’m afraid we have to speak with the elves, especially since they seem to be acting strangely.
Richard did not seem to be listening, he was looking past Martin’s shoulder at Ratchis and Kazrack, who seemed to have been inching forward and were whispering to each other.

“Hey!” Richard yelled. “I thought we agreed you’d step away.”

“We did step away!” Kazrack yelled.

“Then keep it that way,” Richard said. “I want to trust you, but let’s not do anything stupid, okay?”

“Perhaps if you just tell me what you are doing in a more general sense, we could figure out some compromise. Perhaps I could even help you,” Martin suggested.

“I doubt you could do much to help me,” Richard said with easy arrogance.

“Or at least let us see the elf maiden,” Martin tried.

“I said that’s impossible,” Richard said. “She is involved in a delicate elven ritual. She cannot be disturbed.”

“Then let us come in. We’ll wait,” offered Martin.

“I am charged with making sure this thing gets done uninterrupted. I cannot just allow a pack of strangers into this sacred conclave and risk it,” Richard said. “Look, you’re not in the Academy anymore. You have to understand that not everything is so easy or cut and dry as they would have you think. The Academy prepares you for your true learning. The experience you gather out here in the real world.”


“As a Watch-Mage of experience and authority I am asking you to defer to me in this matter and take your companions and go,” Richard said, frowning.

At that moment, Ratchis and Kazrack were quietly counting to three. Ratchis had cast a Detect Magic and noticed the elf behind the murderhole and the one up on the left lookout had the aura of enchantment on them.

Ratchis charged at the Watch-mage. “Martin get out of the way!” he yelled.

“You left on two!” Kazrack yelled, coming up behind the huge half-orc. However, his stunty legs did not take him far enough.

Ratchis has already pushed past Martin and slammed two devastating punches on Richard the Red, who groaned in pain.

Richard the Red stepped back and suddenly there was a golden wire bent into a cup-shape on one end in his hand. He waved his hand over is and shouted, “Levessess!”

The Watch-Mage began to ascend straight up into the air, coming to a stop twenty feet up.

“Ratchis! What are you doing?” Martin stepped back agape, a look of horror coming over his soft boyish face.

Jeremy moved up the stairs, passing Kazrack who was yelling, ‘The elves are ensorcelled.” Arrows came hailing down from the lookouts and from the central murderhole above the door. They bit at Jana and Ratchis, who was loading his crossbow. Jana ducked behind the stone steps, seeking cover.

“Argh!” Martin held his head in his hands. “You’re an idiot!” He then looked up at Richard the Red. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why they are doing this. Let’s talk more Um…”

“Looks like the Academy isn’t so good at picking its charges anymore,” Richard said, sardonically.

Kazrack poured on the speed, and taking steps two at a time ran up the upper central stair for the double doors which were still ajar, going straight for the elves that stood just within them.

“I was hoping it would not come to this,” Richard said, and he whispered and arcane word gesutured. Below him appeared a flat plane of white light and he quickly descended into it. He and the disk of light disappeared with a flash.

“Why are you doing this?” Martin whined.

“Prove these elves are not ensorcelled,” Ratchis yelled at Martin, scathingly.

Jeremy took off after Kazrack and came through the doors, crossbow in hand. The dwarf was already facing two elves, whose blows he deftly avoided despite the fact that he had left himself open to a flanking attack.

There was a popping sound as Janx appeared beside Jeremy who was coming to Kazrack’s aid.

“You cannot penetrate the sanctity of our compound,” both elves were saying in their flat voices that seemed to echo each other.

“Martin, look at those elves. Can you tell me they are not ensorcelled,” Ratchis cried.

“I can’t do this. I can’t,” Martin was gibbering incoherently, still trying to find the words to say that would make this nightmare end, but the flying arrows were enough to scare him into action. As he ran past Ratchis to go back down the stairs and take cover with Jana, the huge half-orc slapped the Watch-Mage hard in the side of the face.

“We have to help the elves!” Ratchis screamed. Martin whimpered and crouched beside Jana.

“These people are crazy,” commented Jana, peeking over the steps.

Ratchis snorted in disgust and ran up the steps towards the doors, dodging missile fire the whole time.

“Remember these creatures are ensorcelled. Do not try to kill them,” said Kazrack, stepping past the two elves, spinning around and sending the sword of one of them flying into the air. The dwarf was now past the entry hall, back into perpendicular hall the last battle had occurred in.

He felt magic wash over him, but he shook off it, his dwarven resistance to magic serving him well. He turned and saw Richard the Red still levitating, but in the room with the stairs to the lookouts and the large hearths.

“Ha! Ha! Foul mage! Rivkanal protects me from foul magics such as yours!” the dwarf laughed aloud.

Jeremy slammed his crossbow into the face of the now unarmed elf, and he heard the crunch of the elf’s nose, as it stumbled back stunned.

Ratchis joined the fray, hammer in hand and immediately felt the bite of the other elf’s sword.

“You don’t know what you are getting into,” called Richard the Red.

“Wizard, these elves are charmed!” Ratchis insisted.

The unarmed elf stepped away from both Ratchis and Kazrack and tossing some rose petals in the air he said, “Dormu”. Karack shook off a wave of drowsiness.

Outside, Jana and Martin were pinned down by arrow fire, so Martin waved an open hand before him and spoke and arcane word. Now, an invisible shield hovered before him. Jana stood and pointed at the elf on the left lookout. The archer stumbled back disappearing from view. Martin took his chance and ran for the cover of the archway above the double doors.

Ratchis ran towards Richard the Red, yelling “These elves are charmed!” Kazrack was close behind.

“It is no concern of yours!” the Watch-Mage replied, sounding annoyed. “The agendas of the Academy are above the likes of you!”

“Nubes de Foetor!,” cried Richard punching into the air with his right hand that crushed a rotten egg while pointing with his left. A billowing cloud of green gas unfolded from nothingness about forty fet ahead of him, filling most the room and the entire hallway.

Ratchis and Jeremy felt their stomach rumble as the noxious gas filled their lungs and in less than a second both of them were puking up trail rations and bile. One of the elves Jeremy had been fighting also began to lose his lunch, but Kazrak’s dwarven constitution allowed him to fight the nausea.

Jeremy stumbled out of the gas down the hall to the left, still puking, while Ratchis left his own trail of vomit as he left the cloud as well, still trying to get to Richard the Red.

“As you can see I am not trying to hurt you,” Richard the Red called. “Please just leave.”

Kazrack broke through to the other side of the cloud and seeing Richard floating there he dropped his halberd and pulled out a grappling hook to which he still had rope attached.

“Don’t make me kill you to free these charmed elves,” the dwarf said angrily.

“This is obviously an eventuality that calls for a different approach,” Richard the Red said cryptically, and lifting the edge of his cloak, whipped it around himself and faded from view.

“Your invisibility tricks won’t work on me!” Kazrack cried, tossing the grappling hook with all his might to where the Watch-Mage had been floating. The hook just sailed through the spot and landed on the ground.

Kazrack cursed and then cried aloud in pain, as another elf appeared on the stairs to the lookout and fired an arrow at the dwarf, which sunk deep into his side, the cold metal arrowhead actually glancing off a rib, and bouncing away, taking a large chunk of flesh with it.

Jeremy had recovered but still struggled with the no longer unarmed elf (he had drawn a dagger). This elf had avoided the stinking cloud. Martin had made it to the relative safety of the doorway. Jana ran up the stairs after him and straight through the doorway, unknowingly passing beneath the trapdoor that led up to the lookout spot that the central murderhole was, and the elf above was wait, firing an arrow straight down, that was deflected by her collarbone, but was painful and bloody nonetheless. She threw herself against the opposite wall, trapped in the entry hall by Richard’s spell, which still had not dissipated.

Kazrack now had his halberd back in hand and went for the elf on the stairs from the ground level. But the elf was too nimble and leapt away from the blow and off the stairs, striking the dwarf with his sword (having dropped his bow seconds before). By this time Ratchis who was leaning against the hearth feeling his stomach and intestines spasming recovered. He turned away from the hearth, which he noted had a mantle covered with a collection of mundane objects and ran for the elf fighting Kazrack, and gritting his teeth through the deep sword blow to his hip, slammed two punches into the elf’s face.

“Oh, no. Not again…” the elf murmured as he collapsed into an unconscious lump on the ground.

The elf above Jana and Martin, who now eyed the trapdoor warily, dropped sand through the open hatch and called, “dormu!” Jana felt a wave of drowsiness come over her that she could not resist. In a second she had slid down the wall she had been leaning against. She was a asleep.

Jeremy was smiling having seen the elf he battled wobble when the Neergaardian punched him in the face with the hilt of his sword, and blood had exploded in crimson streams from the elf’s delicate nose. But the elf was not giving up, and dagger flashed twice, making shallow cuts on Jeremy’s wrist and forearm.

Martin shook Jana awake.

End of Session #21


(48) In Thricia it is common and fashionable for both men and women to wear their hair long, and have either one long braid, or a few smaller braids.

(49) Tom the Silver is the former Watch-Mage of Gothanius. Among the things Martin the Green was supposed to discover while in the Kingdom of Gothanius was more information about how he died.

(50) Gregori the Brown was actually a founding member of the adventuring band known as the Oath, but interestingly he was not a member at the same time as Escher of Fallon. (See Sessions #5 and #6).

(51) Tempestas is the island homeland of the elves of Aquerra, due east of the Black Islands Barony.


Moderator Emeritus
Just some notes.

When this session ended mid-combat (we often end mid-combat - for some reason combat encounters always occur near the end of our sessions) every sighed, feeling like they were ending up exaclty where they had been the last time they tried to get in the place.

It was deja vu all over again. :D

In terms of ending mid-combat, I rather like it - because that means next session we can jump right into it - and focus is re-gained almost immediately. Also, it is an excellent cliff-hanger..

Actually, the session we had yesterday (session #26) also ended mid-combat.


First Post
Nemm, that plotline has me enthralled (no pun intended). It's so interesting, and I just can't figure out what's going on with the elves. It seems like I'm checking every five seconds to see if there's any more. I hope you don't torture me for too much longer.

I do have to wonder how a wizard, no matter how high level he is, can keep so many targets charmed, and elves no less. I do realize this takes place in a different campaign world with different rules, however, so I'll reason it out with that fact in mind. All in all, very good stuff. I'd say this is my most favorite story hour. I love the characters and I love the setting.
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Moderator Emeritus
Thanks, Metus - eventually it will be revealed. . .:D


A note to those who might be interested. I am reposting Book I of "Out of the Frying Pan: - Gathering Wood - one installment a night from now on - to get people to start reading it (instead of being overwhelmed with catching up).

So for those of you who might want to read it from the beginning again (and maybe look for patterns ;), or ask new questions) you can click here and jump right to it.

Wow I can't believe I feel 4 instalments behind. All caught up now. Great as always Nemm. I realy like this side trek. A nice mystery yet to be solved if they can ever defeat these pesky elves.


First Post
You have me wondering what kind of spell can "charm" that many elves at once. Apparently, it requires no concentration to maintain as Richard is casting other spells.
Unless.........there's a another wizard inside and Richard is providing covering fire?

Question about the colors. Do the colors represent wizard level or status in the Academy?


Moderator Emeritus
Session #22

“We have to find Tirhas,” Ratchis yelled, and began to run up one of the broad corridors that led further into the fort. Kazrack followed on stumpy legs.

Janx popped into existence beside the elf Jeremy was still struggling with, trying to distract it, but not actually biting or clawing at it.

“About time I get some help,” Jeremy quipped.

Martin examined the green cloud of noxious gas, trying to identify the spell that caused it, but failed.

Jeremy was able to knock the elf he fought in the head with the pommel of his sword, staying clear of its proficient dagger-work, but still the elf would not give up.

The cloud disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and Jana risked passing by the trapdoor in the ceiling again, and felt the bite of another arrow. She fell to the ground, blood pouring out of her at an alarming rate. Martin moved his magical shield to above his head with a thought and quickly pulled Jana out from under the trapdoor and into the perpendicular hall where Jeremy was cursing the elf he battled.

“Ratchis! Kazrack! Where are you?” Martin called desperately.

Ratchis noticed that the broad hallway had staggered alcoves, with tall wooden statues in them of elvish figures. He slowed his jog to look at one more closely. They seemed to be made of living wood, but still had clothing painted on them. It was strange to the half-orc, looking at the statue of an elven maid of pale blue skin. He shrugged and ran on, Kazrack not too far behind him.

“Gee, I hope these things don’t come to life that one at the door did,” Kazrack commented as he stole a glance at the statues as he ran past.

The broad hall connected with another hall that ran the width of the fort, and Kazrack took a left down this new hall, and saw two sets of earthen steps going downward towards each other, with a tall statue of an muscular elf dressed in green, wearing a crown, wielding a spear, standing beneath an arch of elven runes carved into the stone wall behind him.


The two companions moved towards where the other broad corridor met the rear hall they had found. It must lead back to the front.

“We should try and get back and rejoin the others if we can. Hopefully this does lead around,” Kazrack said to Ratchis who was a good twenty feet ahead of him, but he suddenly heard a sound on the steps they had passed and he looked back over his shoulder. An arrow whizzed past him and he flinched. Another elf had appeared on the top of the stairs. He turned around and ran up to deal with the new opponent.

The elf leapt aside dropping his bow and drawing his sword, avoiding the blow of Kazrack’s halberd. While Ratchis, hearing the sound of combat behind him snuck back down the corridor quietly. He came around the corner, but the elf and Kazrack were in clear view. There was no way the half-orc could sneak up on the new opponent, so he merely joined the melee. The elf was overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of a second combatant, and Kazrack took advantage of the moment’s distract and sent the elf’s weapon flying out of its hand, dropping on he top step. The elf stepped back and tossing a handful of sand at the dwarf called out “dormu!”. The dwarf did not even feel drowsy.

Ratchis swung his powerful fists at the elf, but the elf was bobbing and weaving, avoiding the blows. Kazrack swung his polearm at the elf’s feet, but over extended himself towards the steps, and in a frantic attempt to keep his balance, only managed to fall in place instead of tumbling down the stairs.

Again the elf retreated, “Dormu!” This time the dwarf could not resist and he fell asleep right where he lay, snoring loudly.

Ratchis took a step down the stairs and swung again with all his might, feeling the sharp chin of the elf against his knuckles twice. Head reeling, the elf ducked and grabbed his sword from the floor, but this allowed Ratchis an opening, slamming another blow against the back of his head.

The elf barely had time to look up when the second fist came down on his eye. He tumbled down a few steps unconscious.

Ratchis kicked Kazrack awake. The dwarf awoke with a snort.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Magic,” Ratchis replied.

The dwarf stood and went down and hefted the elf onto his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Ratchis asked.

“I don’t want to leave it right here. Someone might see. Let’s go back to the group,” the dwarf said, and dropped the elf at the top of the stairs.

“I think I hear someone calling our names,” Ratchis said, turning to hurry back to the others.

Kazrack collected the elf’s weapons, a Janx appeared from around the corner. The blink dog sniffed the unconscious elf and popped down the stairs.

The dwarf looked after the dog for a moment, and then took off after the half-orc.


And so someone was.

“Drop! It’s for your own good!” Jeremy cried, and slapped the elf he fought across the face with the flat of his blade, drawing some blood, but finally succeeding in defeating him.

Martin was frantically trying to bind Jana’s bleeding wound, but the blood just seemed to seep into everything, and would not stop. (53)

Jeremy walked over to the Watch-Mage, as Janx popped out of sight and reappeared near the hall Ratchis and Kazrack had gone down, and ran that way.

“Martin, what happened?” Jeremy asked with concern in his voice.

“She was hit by an arrow,” Martin pointed up at the trapdoor.

“Is she alright?” Jeremy asked.


“Can you help her?”


“Where is Ratchis when you need him?” Jeremy said.

“Ratchis!” Martin called, cupping his hands about his mouth. “Ratchis! Kazrack!”

The Watch-Mage sighed in resignation and tore more strips of cloth from Jana’s skirt to bind her wounds. The bleeding slowed. (54)

“Okay, I’ve got her wounds staunched,” Martin said, with a long exhale of breath.

“Good,” Jeremy replied. “Can she move?”


“I mean, can you move her?”


“Well, we need to do something about the elf up there,” Jeremy whispered, pointing up. “Can you flush him out?”

“I can try,” Martin said, pulling a piece of wool from the pocket of his blood-stained emerald robes.

In a second an illusory Ratchis stood beside the Watch-Mage, and then ran to the ladder and clambered up. The elf above who was holding an arrow in wait for someone to do jus that, let loose the shaft, with through flew through the hulking figure with no effect.

Jeremy leapt upon the ladder and climbed up after the illusion, which disappeared as soon as it left Martin’s view, but now the Neergaardian was in the tiny space and pulled his short sword.

The elf dropped his bow and drew his own sword, just barely getting out of the way of a thrust from Jeremy.

“Why’d you have to draw a weapon?” Jeremy said. “Make this easy for once.”

The ringing of blades resonated from the tiny room as Jeremy and the elf struggled to get the upper hand on each other. However, Jeremy was quicker in a small space, and despite the elf’s parry, he was able to force him back against the wall, pressing him into an awkward position, and then slam! The flat of his blade slapped the elf in the neck.

“You like shooting from holes, huh?” Jeremy mocked. “You don’t seem to be doing so well in a straight up fight.”

As the elf made a futile attempt to counter strike, Jeremy struck again, shoving the hilt of his sword into the elf’s gut. The elf groaned in pain, but spied Ratchis coming up the ladder and struck an awkward blow with his sword against the half-orc, but Jeremy took the opening and the elf dropped unconscious.

The party collected themselves in the entrance hall.

“We need to find Tirhas,” said Ratchis.

“Jana is really hurt,” Jeremy said.

Kazrack laid a hand upon Jana’s shoulder, and another on his bag of runestones about his neck, “Rivkanal, please give you protecting hand to this young lady who is trying to learn to do good in this world.”

Jana coughed and opened her eyes.

“Take a moment to rest,” Kazrack said, and then cast a spell of healing upon himself as well.

“Kazrack?” Martin asked. “Did you see where the wizard went?”

“He disappeared,” Kazrack replied.

”He’s probably still here, somewhere,” Martin mused.

“I got the impression he wasn’t going far,” Kazrack said. “We’d better get moving. Jana, can you accompany us if you stay near the rear ranks?”

“I’ll slow you down, but yes,” replied Jana.

“She and Martin can be in the middle,” Ratchis suggested. “Jeremy, you take the rear.”

The party gathered themselves and made their way down the broad hallway, pausing only a moment to look at the tall wooden statues of elven figure, with elven characters carved behind them on the alcove wall.

“They seem to be growing out of the floor,” Martin noted of the statues.

“I thought maybe these statues might be of elves that reside here,” Ratchis said. “If we could read elvish, we might be able to discern their titles and ranks. We do not know what Tirhas’ position is here, if any,” Ratchis said.

“She seemed like more a wandering person. She may not have any real ties to this place,” said Jeremy.

“I think these are elven gods or heroes,” commented Martin.

“Let’s continue, and explore the lower level,” Kazrack said, eager to have earth and stone above his head.

The party made it to the rear hall and as quietly as they could made their way down one of the two earthen staircases.

“Do you see any sign of Janx?” Kazrack asked Ratchis, as the half-orc kneeled way down to look for signs of passage.

“No, let’s move forward down that corridor,” Ratchis said.

The walls here where horizontal slats of lacquered wood set against earthen walls. The smell of fresh dirt filled the place and Kazrack took a moment to breathe it in and enjoy –and then returned to his usual vigilance.

The moved in a close line, as they carried no light source. Instead, within touching distance they crept along the low-ceiling corridor. A cold draft circling about their wet feet.

Only a few feet down they came to a small alcove with a wooden door. Kazrack signaled the others to wait and he snuck forward and listened, hearing faint sound of movement and breathing.

He signaled the others to come forward, and drew Jeremy nearby, whispering, “Be ready, someone is in there.”

“I’m ready,” Jeremy said, grim-faced.

Ratchis threw open the door and Kazrack leapt into the dark room. Jeremy looked both ways down the hall trying to see in the dim light of lamps on either end of corridor.

The room was small, like a monk’s cell. A small hearth burned low in the opposite wall, and the air smelled of herbs. The dwarf held up a hand to Ratchis as he noticed a figure lying on a sleeping mat on the floor. The figure moaned softly. Ratchis walked over and kneeled beside it. It was an elf. The one had critically injured with his fists two days before. The elf’s face was swollen and black, and his head lolled back and forth.

“Remember, I can provide light if we need it,’ Jana whispered, leaning her head in the door.

“We don’t need it yet,” Ratchis said, taking a last sad look at the elf he had been forced to beat that no one could see in the dark. “But be ready, we may need it at a moment’s notice.”

The party moved further down the long corridor and came upon large oaken double doors reinforced with iron plats gilded like leaves.

Again Kazrack listened, and Ratchis joined him.

They could hear a sound like water dripping and echoing and perhaps an intermittent rush of air.

“Get ready everyone,” Ratchis said. “This could be—”

The doors opened.

An elf had pulled them open and stood to one side, as if to make room for the party to walk in.

They stood at the entrance of an immense chamber. The ceiling was open, but a the thickest tangle of thorns, vines and branches covered it over, but some light did pour down, as did the drippings of melted snow that tumbled down into the dark recesses of whatever was below them. This room was an open shaft crossed by wide platforms of stone, one of which leading to a large rock pedestal upon which three tall stone columns of oblong shape and rough unworked exterior. Kazrack could identify it as volcanic rock. The way it was pocked-marked showed where bubbles of air had escaped. They were nine feet high, and each had a gemstone embedded in it at about a seven-foot height. They were flanked by braziers with tall flames burning in them.

Another elf stood with bow drawn on the other end of the platform the party stood at. There another set of double doors led out of the chamber. On the broader section of the crossing platform stood another elf, his face bruised, with bow drawn. Upon the pedestal stood Richard the Red, smiling. And behind him on a low stone slab lay the form of a maiden, with slight features – but not quite elfin.

And between them all stood four growling wolves, with streaks of red in their ashen gray fur. Their saliva steamed as it slathered the stone before them, and the cool breeze from below wafted the smell of sulfur from the beasts.

Ratchis took a step forward, warhammer in hand. Kazrack stepped in beside him, as the others leaned forward to see what the first two could more clearly.

“Perhaps, we should take this time to talk, Richard the Red said, with a smiled that shone even in the dim light of the braziers.



(52) This reads: Cieladorn banar en saniel Geled-Treead.

(53) In Aquerra, it take 1d10+10 rounds to administer first aid and the skill check is made at the end of this time. Needless to say, characters do not die at –10 hit points.

(54) Actually, Jana stabilized on her own. Martin no ranks in heal and would have likely failed the check when time came to make it.
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Moderator Emeritus
Dawn said:
Question about the colors. Do the colors represent wizard level or status in the Academy?

No. They are merely a way to identify a wizard as an alumnus of the Academy. The robes are a badge of honor. WHen one is about to graduate, one's classmates choose which color you will be given.
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Another cliffhanger! Nemmerle, why do you keep doing me this? I want to know!!!!

Please, another update soon, O.K.?

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