Coartez and The Frozen Forest

[Cyrus the virus]

((Seth, Rae, let's do it this time. Fo reals...))

Coartez Manuevon was a fallen man, and yet he was cursed to never fully realize it. Once a magic instructor in a Raiaeran school (before Istien University became the most revered), Coartez was once looked upon with respect and adoration, for his stunning looks, sharp wit and great skill.

Now, the man was a sick facade of his former self, a true testament to the humor of the Gods. Not only had he grown fat and lazy, but Coartez' mind had deteriorated, reflecting perfectly the change in his appearance. Not only was he less intelligent, but Coartez was plagued by delusions of grandeur, and seemed completely unaware to his rapid change to those around him. In truth, he was a sad, sad example of human greed, for these changes had only occured once Coartez had obtained the great magic of young Luc Kraus in an ancient ritual.

Far beyond the reach of Salvar's biting winds, and even farther from Alerar's highest mountain regions, there stood a tower. The spire reached an incredible height and was blacker than the darkest night. Its location was not in Corone, nor was it on any part of the northwestern continent. It was everywhere and nowhere at once, in a space separate from Althanas' plane of existence. This was a world of bright light and little else. No ground, no background, no sky or environment. There was only the tower, painted against a canvas of eternal grey. Powerful enough to shake fearless men to the bone, intimidating enough to drive them away at a single glance.

The wizard of ice walked in the grey, his cloak trailing low for there was no wind to blow it.

The tower's top floor served as a meeting place for the Six Commanders of the Elements, or the Adept Six, as they'd so humbly dubbed themselves. Six people, five men and a woman, each harnessing a great deal of powerful magic in one specific element. And at who's expense? Luc Kraus, when he was just a child, but unmistakably the most powerful wizard any of them had ever seen.

The story'd been told a thousand times, at least to the unlucky tavern-dwellers Luc dealt with on lonely nights, but never from a perspective not his own. Never from the perspective of an idiot man, whose selfish and repulsive behavior ruined the respectable reputation he once had. Never from the perspective of Coartez Menuevon, minister of ice. If Luc ever heard Coartez call himself that, he'd likely go mad.

Nobody paid Coartez any regard as he phased through the wall of the tower, after levitating to the great height. His cloak allowed him the ability to enter in such a fashion, and saved him the trouble of climbing from the bottom.

This top floor, which consisted of a single large room, was decorated with the tower's natural spiked interior. The walls were, like the outside, black as death itself, but flaming torches lit the inner room very well. Well enough for the Adepts to see each other clearly, anyway.

"Another meeting so soon, Brash?" A gentle voice asked, breaking the long silence among them. It was the first set of words in what would become a drawn-out conversation which would go nowhere, Coartez imagined. "We met here only two months ago, am I right?" Freesh asked again, before descending into her chair. The lone woman of the group, Freesh often assumed the role of peacekeeper.

Brash responded with the first thing that came to him. "Yes, you're right." He couldn't offer any more than that. Not yet, anyway. It wasn't he who'd decided the meeting was necessary in the first place.

More silence followed. The crackling of the lit torches was loud in the room, but nobody noticed. The Adept Six were sitting around a round obsidian table, each one of them wearing a black robe which gave them physical protection from the tower's natural aura, not to mention any other thing that might seek to harm them. Coartez had his chin(s) in his hand as he looked forward, unfocused on his colleagues.

Vai let out an audible sigh, one so loud that it caught the attention of all of the others in the room. "It was I who called you all here, and I'm sad to say that my attempts at keeping the mana crystals stable have failed." He brushed silver hair from his face, tossing the long strands behind his shoulders, revealing a straight face with a clean complexion and a pointed nose.

Illia piped up, a rather rare occurrence. "So we can't use them, yet," he said, speaking everybody's fears.

"There's good news, though." Vai continued, ignoring Illia's declaration. "Although the crystals are unstable, I've been able to create one for each of you. I don't have the time to examine each one, so I'd ask that each of you run your own studies, while I evaluate the I've got."

Coartez perked up at this. He was going to get a mana crystal of his own? Finally, he could use the magic extraction machine Vai provided him with so long ago. "Great!" He boomed, his gullet wavering with the vibration.

"So our dream of creating an army of elemental beasts is becoming a reality?" Crowley asked, his dark hazel eyes sparkling with a kindled excitement, one that up until now, Brash would have sworn could only exist within a child.

Vai nodded. "That's right, but we're still a ways off. It's possible to use our magic extraction machines to create monsters, but I haven't quite figured out how to make them, well... obey."

The others listened intently. Though Vai had finished speaking, they knew him well enough to be able to tell that he was hiding something. Vai always saved the best for last.

[Dissinger]

Kid, you pickle your liver anymore and I'd have to take over just to get you home. You've had enough...

"Never enough," Seth muttered as he sipped the drink. His eyes closed as he lingered in the bitter taste. He was about through with all this; he was just too old, too tired, and too grumpy to be an adventurer anymore. He had no ambition, no direction, nothing at all. However, when this happened, it was usually because at the bottom of the tankard, was one Seth Dahlios, swimming in thoughts best left for the end of a lifetime, rather the first fourth of it.

I'm telling you, you keep drinking like this and I'm going to weigh your hands down so you can't drink anymore. You're destroying yourself Dahlios, The stern voice of General Karel Dahlios, first of the Traitor Generals was blaring through his head, echoing and reverberating in the alcohol laced brain of Seth.

"My life, my right," Seth muttered.

What about the pretty lady you seem to obsess over?

"She hates me," He muttered. It was a lie, and an easy one to tell himself in such an inebriated state. However the General of Revan's armies wasn’t placed in that position because of mere paper work. He was a battle general through and through. This meant he could see through even the most hurriedly and proficiently constructed lie, and so, when he detected it, he responded as he would any of his soldiers. He gave them a good smack of sense.

As Seth tried to raise the glass he found it exceedingly difficult to do so. Looking down he realized why when his hands were placed within gauntlets at least ten to twenty pounds heavier than he could lift even sober. As he grumbled about bastard grandfathers he heard the general's voice, Sober up grunt, you're doing yourself no good drowning yourself in ale. Now, the first thing you're going to do is order food so you get soemthing to stop alcohol absorption, then you're going to order water. You hear me-

"Shuddup, I don't care about your wants!" Seth hissed as he felt a pounding headache. As he tried to lift his hand he sighed in defeat before he groaned and sighed in defeat. The general had him, and he would be unable to do anything about it for gods knew how long. The general could be a stubborn person, and while Seth could deal with that, the lack of corporeal form on Karel meant he couldn't just knock the bastard out and keep drinking.

Lets see you put up a fight Dahlios. If you can lift this gauntlet and take a sip, I'll let you kill yourself in drink. But if you can't even crawl to your grave, I sure as hell ain't pushing you in.

Seth looked at the glass in his hands. He wanted so badly to do this, and so he flexed his forearm trying to get the sip of alcohol. He could see the fluid it was only a quarter of the way down. However he was having problems even trying to get it up, let alone in the general proximity of his mouth. He grumbled before he tried again, this time managing to lift the drink up an inch before it slammed down to the bar. Her grumbled again as he tried, this time repeating the spectacle before he heard it slam down again. A grunt escaped his lips before he grumbled, "You win old man, let me go."

Not till you promise on your parents Lad, we aren't going a second round because of your thieving ways. The reply left no room for negotiation, and Seth grumbled as he gave up the promise. Immediately the gauntlets broke into a band on his wrist before he sighed and pushed the glass away. The tender raised an eyebrow as he walked over and said, "Not going to finish that?"

"Take it, I need some food and water now, I'm trying to sober up," Seth grumbled. It was obvious the thief was not happy with the situation, but he had to endure.

The man nodded as he said, "I'll grab you some bread in the meantime while the kitchen cooks up the rest. Water will be up as well."

[Raelyse]

(Not sure if I can copy and paste. If I can't, kick me in the balls.)

In the bursting metropolis of Radasanth, everyone rushes. Warriors and adventurers rush because they want to pass through to get to the next big enemy that they need to defeat, only slowing down to purchase overpriced, useless "adventuring tools" from the merchants that live here. The residents rush because they must service the merchants so that they can maximize the exploitation of the adventurers that pass through the town. Those that do not have any relation or relationship with any of the above parties run one of the seemingly unlimited bars and pubs that populate the area and they too, must rush.

So that is why when, among the dashing feet and blurred figures on any and every street, a slow moving figure becomes easily spotted among the crowd. It is a rare sight and as you cast your eyes, from wherever you stand to a dashing crowd, seemingly orbiting around a lone, stationary figure, that one person instantly stands out among the crowd. As you begin to focus on that, you begin to notice his features, realizing as you continue to analyze that he seems to be one of those people that is born to stand out in a crowd.

With a healthy, muscular six foot frame and long silver hair billowing down from his head, he cut an impressive figure among the crowd. The clothes were sophisticated and easily stood out from the torn rags or loose fitting, comfortable fitting that the people around him donned. While others did not even think of purchasing new shoes to cover their feet, this one had leather covering his that were polished from right to left, from back to front. Everything about him seemed to be perfect. And when his face rose to reveal his handsome features, it did not seem like that theory would be disproved today. In his right hand he wielded an elegant jet black cane, which he slowly tapped on the ground as he moved slowly through the bustling crowd.

His face moved from right to left, examining the people which moved past him. The amusing thing that was the more he moved, the bigger the smirk on his face seemed to be. It was one of patronization, one almost of amusement as he seemed to be able to examine every single rushing figure as they moved past him, amusing him to no end. Whatever it was about these people that amused him, it seemed to have no end.

[Cyrus the virus]

"The good thing is," Vai continued, "the crystals themselves can amplify our power to some degree. It seems that deep within them there is a spark, and when it's tapped by a spell caster’s power, they grant power to the user."

"You've... Created a means of making a wizard's magic more effective?" Crowley asked. "Nothing like that has ever been done!"

Vai gave him a half-smile.

"And you're the one who created such a thing?" Illia scoffed. "I don't believe it. There have been a thousand brilliant inventors in our time, and none of them ever accomplished something of that caliber. Knowing you as well as I do, I find all of this very suspicious."

"Yeah, you're way too dumb for something so advanced," Coartez added, not quite realizing how ironic the insult was. Perhaps in the future, he'd figure it out.

"Am I?" Vai asked, as he pulled a light blue crystal from his pocket, placed it on the table and slid it across to Coartez' pudgy, waiting fingers. "That crystal is yours, Coartez, so feel free to examine it as much as you like."

"Do you plan on giving us ours as well, Vai?" Crowley asked. "Or are you only going to reward him with this... New development?"

"The crystals are still incomplete. There are problems with them that prevent me from just handing them out to you all, otherwise I'd just do so," the man explained.

"So why give him his?" Illia countered.

Vai, rather than verbally answer the question, extended a bony finger to point at the jumbled mass of Coartez that sat at the other end of the table. One by one, the others turned to look at him, to witness him completely lost in the crystal, his eyes glazed and his mouth hanging open.

"What happened to him?" Freesh asked.

"Since he is the wizard I manipulated the crystal to adapt to, when he looks into the item, he and the magic of the crystal form a bond. Because of Coartez' idiot mind, it's no surprise that he's become completely enthralled in the crystal." Vai responded. They watched Coartez for a moment longer, as Vai let the surprise sink in and disappear. "If we did nothing, he would stare into it like that until his body wasted away. It pays to be intelligent."

Vai came to Coartez then, carrying a velvet pouch dangling from a silver rope. He opened it, slid the crystal inside and then closed it up tightly. Almost immediately, Coartez snapped back into reality, though he didn't have the presence of mind to clean the spit off of his mouth right away. "Huh?" He mumbled.

"Here, Coartez," Vai said gently. "Take this pouch, and don't you dare look inside, or what just happened to you will happen again. When you get back to your bunker in Corone, have Poladine run tests on it using the extraction engine or the generator I installed."

Coartez nodded weakly, for even he wasn't stupid enough to ignore Vai's advice, considering what just happened to him. Despite the nature of his brief trance, Coartez still felt he was missing a part of his life, as if time had departed for a moment. He shook his head, took the pouch by its rope and stood up, walking toward the wall. Remarkably, it opened up as he approached, and Coartez walked right through the hole into the "air" of the strange realm. He then created a gash in the very space before him, and stepped through a sea of stars before the break in the universe mended itself.

There was a pause among the remaining Adept, a quiet that only came when a startling revelation emerged. "Vai, this is... Stunning," Brash mentioned.

"The potential is frightening," Crowley added.

Vai smiled and nodded. "Let's just see what my little experiment reveals about the crystal."

[Dissinger]

Seth sipped the water as he tried to sober up his mind reeling as he groaned softly in pain. The bread he was given was quickly chewed upon so as to try and offer some substance and grab the alcohol. As he continued to eat he groaned softly as he heard the general's voice in his head, Dahlios, you sir are a fuck up, you ever realize that?

"Not a day goes by that I don't," He muttered.

Good thing I'm here to stop you from killing yourself, gods know how many times you tried-

"Seven," Seth replied bluntly. An awkward silence followed the count as it seemed he had shocked the general. He continued to eat in silence as he did so his eyes closed as he sipped the water, feeling a bit of sobriety seep into the confusion and chaos of his mind.

Seven?

"Didn't stutter did I?" Seth replied as the tender showed up with the plate of food. Seth laid down payment as he took the warm food and began to eat it. He sighed in frustration as he let his hand rest on his forehead. It was beginning to pound with the noise of the tavern reverberating through the area that was once filled with his brain.

Son, I may not have known you long, but you don't seem to be able to do anything right-

"You want to spend another few years locked up in a museum, keep going," Seth snapped. The amulet remained silent as he closed his eyes and just rested, trying to figure out how to get over the headache. He couldn't hear a thing beyond the constant rining and pain, but he knew one thing, he had to stop drinking for awhile. It was an escape, and as sobriety slowly claimed his mind, he could understand the dangers. If he lost it and killed someone, he might actually succeed.

Opening his eyes he looked up into the confused eyes of the tender who was reaching out to grab his plate. Seth sighed as he shook his head, "Not done yet, give me some more time."

"You alright there? Talking to yourself is a bit suspicious," The tender asked.

"Yeah, just trying to force my conscience to shut up and let me drown myself in drink," Seth responded.

"Well, just keep it down, drives customers away when someone starts mumbling to themselves."

"Will do."

[Raelyse]

Haste had never been one of Raelyse's most dominant character traits. In fact, it had never been something that the prince though was necessary in his life, never mind something that was implemented on a regular basis. He had always told himself that the only people that needed urgency in their lives were those that were unlucky and lazy. Unlucky because of the predicament they had been born in and lazy not to bore themselves out of it. Raelyse deserved his status as prince and nothing could ever take that away from him. As long as he lived, he would always be royalty and as a result, he would never ever need to quicken his pace for anyone.

Radasanth had always been one of his favorite places for that reason. Now that Myrusia was a distant memory, the only place that the prince could get anywhere near the kind of respect that he received in his homeland was this little town in Corone. In Alerar, Raelyse admired the wealth that he could exploit through the Dwarven mines while Raiaera's elegant elves were one of the few things that had the prince's respect. In Corone, he enjoyed the surplus of working class peasants. Excessive leisure time always ensured that Raelyse was always entertained, but one of his favorite pastimes was looking down, smirking at common people. After this boosted his ego considerably, the prince would head off and find the nearest place where he could clutch the wench with the largest bosoms and treat her to the largest room in the most luxurious inn where she would enjoy the best morning/afternoon/night of her young life. Then he'd step out of the balcony, throw his long silver hair backwards and admire himself, looking down at the townspeople before wondering how he could be the best at everything.

Today's schedule was slated to be no different.

But the first bar the prince stepped into showed no more promise than the mob that crowded outside its premises. His feet had grown tired though and at the moment, he could scarcely think that he would have the energy to pleasure a woman, nor the energy to tolerate the poor excuses for foreplay she would throw at him. Tapping his cane loudly on the wooden bar floor as he advanced onto the counter, he could not help but stare condescendingly at every single peasant within the bar. They either went back to their drinks or looked away, hiding feelings of rage. In this middle class part of town, they seemed to fear those that dressed the way that Raelyse did. It represented wealth and power that they dared not oppose for fear of Corone's politics.

When the barkeeper cocked his head to the side and asked the prince in a short tone what he wanted, Raelyse could only smile back before replying, "One executive room, please and..." the prince allowed his eyes to wander the area, before spying a buxom blonde girl at the back of the bar washing dishes. "I'd like one of everything that you serve with..." he paused again, his head tilting slightly to indicate his target.”...her."

The bartender flinched for a second, about to open his mouth to protest against letting someone like this stare lecherously at his daughter, but before the thoughts could manifest themselves as words, his customer had already ascended the stairs, the only signs of him remaining was the sound of his cane slamming loudly on the wooden steps.

As soon as his fingers turned around the door knob, the prince of Myrusia instantly threw the cleaning lady out before throwing himself onto the bed, flinging his boots to either sides of the room. Before he knew it, the pillows sucked his head into them and his eyes closed. He had seldom felt anything more than minimum fatigue, but still he could not help but fall asleep quickly and sleep soundly.

[Cyrus the virus]

Coartez emerged in a low level facility which acted as his headquarters, stepping out from the strange space that appeared in the air. Poladine, his resident expert on magic and technology, was hardly surprised to see him. After all, Coartez had been using these strange dimension gates for as long as they'd known each other.

They were in a small room at the center of a massive chamber, a booth where mechanical operations were performed. In the chamber outside, there was a great platform and a strange device above it, cold steel wires dangling from it. The booth itself had a great clear window that looked down at the platform, as a ladder led up to this base of operations.

"Good meeting?" Poladine asked.

"Pah," Coartez spat. "Vai needs you to run some tests on this," he said, handing the pouch over.

"Should I let you know what I discover?"

Coartez waved a dismissing hand. "Just write me a few notes about it."

With that, Coartez turned and opened the door to the small, confined room he had appeared in. Poladine was left slightly baffled, not knowing what tests to run or what item he held, but revealing the crystal helped him understand. "Ah, wonderful!" He exclaimed, walking quickly over to where one of the generators stood.

"We've had this generator so long, with so little to use it for. Maybe with this, we can finally begin to build!"

Poladine excitedly placed the crystal into a small slot which held it perfectly, right in the center of a machine which sat next to the window. The crystal glimmered as if in response, but Poladine didn't notice. He flicked a switch near the bottom of the machine, and it suddenly flared to life, flashing lights and vibrating. The crystal began to glow, and everything began to work effectively. There were many smaller machines in the tiny room, and they began to react as well.

Poladine smiled as everything moved like clockwork. But after only a moment, the activity ceased and the machine sighed. Even the glow of the crystal dimmed suddenly. The scientist flicked the switch off and then on again, but nothing happened.

He murmured to himself.

<('.'<)
(>'.')>

Few things jostled Luc Kraus. He was no pillar of strength, and he lacked the mental endurance better wizards seemed to possess, but he prided himself on his ability to keep from being shocked. There was something arrogant about his lack of surprise toward things, but the mage did not intend on coming across that way. Really, he just wanted to be admired, in one way or another.

So when the hand of a bandit reached for his coin purse, which produced the clink of platinum coins with each step he took, Luc had a means to stop him. From his body came a gust of wind, not produced by any gesture he made, just a simple thought that was powerful enough to push the figure away. The man shook his head and looked about, but nobody else in the crowd of people seemed to be effected by the strange push. He reached again, but caught Luc's eyes when his hand came close. Something in those emerald orbs unnerved him. The man clad in green, despite being a rather small and frail-looking one, did not hold even the slightest fear of this would-be thief.

The shady man grunted, turned, and walked swiftly away while Luc simply carried on walking among the others. He was back from a visit to Raiaera, where he'd attended a party of elves. The event was embarrassingly dull, and an eye-opener to the man who had once admired the haughty race. He missed the simple pleasures of a Radasanthian tavern, but hopefully wouldn't for long.

Stepping into a bar, Luc was overwhelmed with familiarity. The smell of ale and sweat, the dim light provided by the lanterns, the dull sun through a dirty window, the man playing a slow piano tune, it all made him feel comfortable.

At the bar, he spotted a familiar man. A coy grin snuck onto Luc's face, and he made his way to Seth's side with a casual stride, taking the stool next to the Hex Mage.

"Last time we met in a bar, Seth, things did not go so well. It'll be different this time, I hope," said the mage, ordering a mug of ale for himself. "I've been traveling since then, trying to get a grip on this magic you possess. Nobody knows a thing about it, but I've learned other things. I'm a more knowledgeable man than I ever was.

"And you, what have you been doing in these months?"

[Dissinger]

"Not so loud," Seth replied as he winced. The alcohol still amplified noise to painful heights as he cringed. While he was normally immune to pain, the alcohol made this one almost intolerable. However he was far less drunk than his last try with the mage. As he sipped his water he said softly, "Well I promise I'm no where near as drunk as the last time."

You know this whelp?

Yes, he's a mage I fought awhile back. Seems a bit less interested in my head on a plate, Seth replied as he continued to eat his food. As he rubbed his temple to clear the pain he sighed as the mage asked his questions. He acted as if they were old friends, and while Seth could understand, he didn't want to give the same impression back. He hardly knew the geomancer, and to be buddy buddy with him was not a good thing, especially where he was right now.

And just where is that?

What have I told you about my private thoughts! Seth hissed back to the amulet. The amulet only remained silent as he sighed and closed his eyes sipping his drink, "Been wandering about for a bit, looking for some answers. I guess it came back to the same thing. I get drunk to try and forget my pain for a night. At least now I just stay to myself instead of talk about Alerian whores..."

His words brought back the memories of the Silver pub and with it the fight that had ensued. The drunken thief was only trying to sober up as the General had other things in mind, like arguing with Seth about things, So you mean to tell me you get drunk and try to get yourself killed? Even worse than I thought.

"I know," He snapped forgetting Kraus was with him as he rubbed his temple irritably. The signs of anger were upon him as he sipped his water.

[Raelyse]

In consciousness, Raelyse Salidan followed no one. Never did he have to rush for anyone else, never did anyone else affect him in anyway... he merely moved through life at his own leisure, occasionally stopping when something interested him enough. He never had to care about anything else except himself and his fickle whims.

But in his dreams, he did not know why, but the prince of Myrusia always dreamt that he was running. The area changed each time but his speed was constant, his breaths were constant, even the length of the dreams were relatively the same. The area did not matter though; the very fact that he was putting one foot in front of the other at rapid pace did, though. For as long as he could remember, Raelyse had been crippled, a wicked side effect of being Myrusian royalty. Only rarely did he get the chance to temporarily deactivate the enchantment, allowing him full use of his legs. He was not fond of doing this often though, preferring the steady pace than sudden bursts of sprinting interrupting his usual limping. It was too troublesome and besides, he liked to save his legs for when he really needed them, like whenever he was in a battle for instance.

But yet... the prince could not deny that he loved running or at least the thought of it. The wind through his vibrant silver hair and his tensed thigh muscles that propelled his feet was enough to drive him wild. Most of all though, it was the experience (for Raelyse thought of it as nothing less) of near euphoria just after each foot launched his body into the air. It gave him a sense of pride that nothing could dissipate, ever. In the prince's mind, running and flying were not that different and he thoroughly loved the thought of both.

Maybe it was because he only really experienced the true joy of both when he was asleep, when his narcissistic mind had the chance to shape the world to his own desires. It was no coincidence that the time when he smiled the most - genuine smiles, not smirks - was when he dreamt of doing things that he could not do in real life. Unfortunately, this time, the dream would come to an abrupt end.

As images of happiness flooded in the prince's mind, something foreign invaded his paradise. In his state of dreaming, he hardly noticed but slowly, his world informed him of the startling new unfamiliar object that it had created. Abruptly, the running stopped and the head turned to the side. All that he could see was the image of a long, blue missile as it shot from the distance and straight towards him. He barely had time to react before it landed straight into his chest, knocking the wind out of him, causing him to fall to the ground with a thud, sending sand flying all around him.

So this was what his mind had created for him. A desert.

Any contemplations that Raelyse might have had over yet another dream were thrown out of is mind when he abruptly awoke, his frame shooting forward from lying down to sitting on the side of his bed. Sweat had matted his once liberated silver hair to his head, sticking it to every part of his head and even down to his neck. Instinctively, he brought his hand up and brushed it off his face, away from his eyes where it irritated him. He always awoke sweating from his running dreams, as if he had been moving his legs the whole time. This time though, his forehead was absolutely drenched and his clothes, wrinkled a creased from him sleeping on them for however long, were similarly ruined.

Raelyse sighed. He hated and loved these running dreams so.

[Cyrus the virus]

Seth's voice was almost hushed, almost coming out as a croak. Luc imagined it was because the man had been sitting here at the bar, nursing a few drinks for the past while. The Hex Mage seemed listless and troubled. There was bags under his eyes that betrayed the lack of sleep he'd been getting. Were Luc more skilled in making life brighter, he certainly would have tried, at least briefly, to do so for Seth now.

Instead he sat in the vacant stool next to the man, sweeping his cape around the surface of the seat so that he wouldn't crease it. He pulled the newly poured mug of ale close, smelling the bitter brew as its bubbles danced below his nose. Taking a deep sip, Luc was reminded of easier times, when he was a budding mage around seven years ago. He had so little responsibility then, and really only had to take care of himself.

As time went on, though, his power had increased steadily, and he'd become a skilled elementalist. That strength had taught him he could not stay out of things going on around him. He'd saved a woman and her friends from a wizard, he'd saved cities from complete destruction, and he'd proteted people. It seemed odd to him, thinking back on these things, that considering his past attitudes--which still came back to haunt him at times--he'd been so willing to help people. He'd found a role in life because of his fellow man's need for aid.

Luc listened to Seth's explanation, took a sip, then looked to the Hex Mage with skewed eyes when he spoke to himself and rubbed his temple. He was clearly going through something Luc couldn't understand, so the mage didn't try to get anything out of him, merely sitting there to keep him some company.

He took a quick look around. The bar wasn't busy, but there were a few patrons sitting splayed about the place, all at individual tables, all looking downward. The atmosphere didn't help, for there wasn't much light. Cracks of sun broke through the doorwar, and a beam snuck in by the window, but besides that it was dark. Luc began to feel the weight of the tavern on his own mood, so he turned back to face the front.

"You said you were looking for answers?" He asked.

[Dissinger]

"More like I found them, and didn't like what they said," Seth replied softly. He was irritable cranky and worst of all sobering up. As he sighed he ate a bit more of his meal as mercifully the general kept his nose out of the conversation. As he continued to eat in silence he could only hope this was a passing thing and that Kraus would be leaving soon so he could go off and find a nice quiet place to think.

What good is thinking gonna do when you have your answers pup? The elder Dahlios was certainly having a field day with the drunken Lavinian.

Maybe I'll find different answers- Seth tried to reply, before the General cut him off.

Son, you have your answers, go back to the little lady, apologize for wasting her time, and get settle boyo. This is no longer about what you want, its about her needs and wants. Even I know better than to incur a ladies wrath, you on the other hand, keep playing with matches hoping to light yourself up like a candle.

Seth sighed before he said softly, "So what brings the famous Geomancer to another watering hole, in the ass end of Radasanth?" He looked at Luc expectantly, knowing the boy would more than likely give him his answers. He seemed keen on talking at least, that’s what he was getting the impression of. As he sat there feeling himself sober up, and the headache subsiding he sighed in fatigue. He hoped he could get some rest soon.

You could use the rest, but let’s wrap up conversation with the wonder boy. You need to sleep it off before you get too angry and do something stupid like usual, The general said as he seemed to give a mental sigh.

Would you for ten seconds stop with the belittling talk? I swear you have nothing good to say do you? Seth hissed in his head at the amulet.

Oh, I have plenty good to say, I just don’t care to compliment a man when he’s being an idiot. If I have to beat some sense into you boy I will train you to be as good a fighter as one of my soldiers.

I’m plenty good enough damnit. I’ve done enough killing as it is.

Oh no you aren’t, your technique while pristine is sloppy. You leave yourself open almost begging someone to kill you. Then let’s not forget the fact that you can’t seem to focus worth two shits. Add it all together and you get a person even one of my privates could wipe the floor with.

Well then I guess it’s a good thing your dead and with you your army.

Seth meanwhile took a sip of water as he looked expectantly at the Geomancer.

[Raelyse]

Much later, a revitalized Raelyse emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped around his otherwise naked body. Baths always took his minds off things and put him where he wanted and needed to be, the present. After admiring his muscled, well toned body in the closet mirror, the prince then proceeded to play with his hair, though he soon began to realize that despite the different styles that he was experimenting with, none brought out the vibrant silver more than any other. So after this rather narcissistic display, he threw himself on his bed, relaxed and smiled as the wind from the open window blew in, tickling his naked torso gently. It was only three loud knocks on the door that prevented him from falling asleep right then and there.

At first, the prince ignored them. But when another three rang through his ears, he turned his head slightly in the direction of the door, shouting. "If you can't get in, you're not wanted," he said gingerly, knowing that the only one he wanted to see at this moment was that attractive blonde he had seen before. Raelyse could barely contain his enthusiasm as he heard the key enter the lock, then the sound of it turning and was nearly on the verge of throwing the towel out the window and pouncing on the next person that entered. Unfortunately, the sound of the door knob turning heralded a different companion than Raelyse would have wanted. A thin, adolescent boy entered the room, pushing a trolley of food.

His sandy brown hair covered his freckled face and it was a wonder to the prince that he could see behind the acne and long hair. A sprinkle of facial hair underneath his nose indicated that this one had just entered puberty but had not yet become a man.

"I ask for beauty and I get baby?" the prince asked, jumping to his feet and securing his towel before grabbing his cane and limping over to the boy, seeing no point in hiding his disability to this one. He looked down at the boy, who was at least a foot shorter than he was, even when he hunched over. Raelyse spied his knees quivering and fear in his face and he only decided to be fiercer at the sight. "Tell me, does your... I presume he's your father, does he always disregard the customer in such a manner, especially one of..."

The prince took a moment to relax, before smiling as he saw the fear grow in the boy's eyes. "... royalty."

Raelyse took another step forward, his crotch inches away from the boy's face. "I'll tell you what, I'll go downstairs and woo that wench for myself, but I want you to sprint downstairs as fast as you can and tell her to get dressed in her best clothes."

The prince could only laugh as the boy turned and ran, presumably at his maximum pace down the stairs and towards the main tavern. Raelyse smiled, moving towards the bed and his discarded clothing. The jacket was ruined, but the pants and shirt were dry, though they still stank of sweat. He swallowed his pride (a considerable task) and wore them, making sure to unbutton the top few buttons on his shirt to show off his still wet torso.

Raelyse strode effortlessly down the stairs and towards the tavern, throwing his hair back occasionally behind his ear to make sure they did not obstruct his face. When he reached the bottom, he could not see the girl, nor the boy, not even the bartender he had seen before. But something else caught his eye.

With an unwavering obsession with his own hair, Raelyse was always quick to point out the imperfections in someone else's. So when he saw that familiar mess of brown hair on top of a middle aged face, the prince did not hesitate in arching his back straight and strutting forward, raising his voice to let everyone else in the bar know who this one was.

"Kraus, Lake Kraus, is it not? what are you doing in my tavern? I thought i had chosen the non-rabble building!"

With vague familiarity and without class, of course.