A New World

[Reytac]

{{OPEN}}

Harold looked around slowly, taking in the sights of this town. Like many of the towns that he had passed through in the last week or two, he saw no signs of higher levels of technology. He also saw nothing resembling clothing like what he had worn when he arrived; which made him extremely glad he had been able to trade his attire for a more... common outfit. He tugged the collar of the vest around his neck, shifting uncomfortably slightly at the unfamiliar weight of the armor. The man with red hair frowned slightly - he needed to find a way to get funds coming in if he was going to advance his magical studies once more, which was the only option left open to him right now in terms of returning home - if he ever could return home. He drummed his fingers on the staff that the farmer had given him as he looked around the busy street, trying to see if there was anything at all in this place that was familiar. Of course, looking around just brought home the fact that he most definitely wasn't in his world any more. The various non-human races that he could see represented here made sure of that. Not that non-human races were something he was unfamiliar with, but these ones... didn't have the slight edge of something unnatural about them. That just served to make it all the more unnatural to Harold, but he would adjust quickly.

Then his eyes hit something he wouldn't have expected to see, a sight that was quite familiar to him. Hanging above the door of a shop a short distance away from where he was standing was a sign that bore an open book with a quill dripping ink from the tip above it. Checking to make sure he wouldn't walk into someone on the way over, Harold hurried to what he hoped was actually a bookshop of some kind. A bell above his head jangled when he opened the door, and for a moment he paused on the threshold, taking a deep breath of the scent of musty tomes. The aroma took him back, back to before a desperate rune usage ripped him from his world, took him to when his partner was still around. Then a wizened voice came from deeper in the store, and jarred Harold from his reminiscing. He shook his head rapidly to clear the cobwebs away and responded, announcing that he was just here to browse at the moment. Slowly the runic mage perused the shelves, looking for any books on magic or on history - he needed to learn more about this world before he made some drastic error that got him exposed as from another world and in serious trouble.

[Reytac]

Harold leaned back against the wall full of musty books and scrolls, closing the one in his hand with a soft sigh. Two hours of study, flipping through several tomes carefully, checking and double-checking… it had all resulted in only one conclusion for him. And it was a result that confused him and sent shivers of worry down his spine.

He couldn't read the language of the world he was in. He could speak it without a problem, but for some unknown reason actually comprehending the symbols on the paper in front of him seemed beyond his capability. He could make out the repeating patters, so he could at least figure out what the words resembled, but he had nothing to base a translation on, nowhere to go with it. This wasn’t a ciphered language he could decrypt, he had nothing like the Rosetta tablet to go off of. And to make it worse and to further keep him from translation efforts, there wasn’t a second language present for him to compare this one to!

With care Harold slid the book that had finally broken his hopes back into the crevice on the shelf it had come from and started to make his way to the exit. He would have to figure out some other way of carrying on his profession and of doing his research, as trying to run a bookstore in a place where he couldn’t even understand the basic alphabet would have been ludicrous. However as he was walking past the counter the wizened old man who had greeted him when he came in called out a question.

“What’s the matter lad? I’d’a thought one of those books would pull your pouch out after you studied them for so long.” Harold stumbled slightly, not having been expecting to get called out on this, though he should have known it would come. Thinking fast he straightened up, tugging at the hem of his vest with one hand as he faced the shop owner.

“I wish I could. Unfortunately a few moons ago, I was hit on the head by a bandit. I managed to recover my belongings, but not everything could be recovered. I was unable to test it until today, but my worst fear is confirmed, I cannot read any longer.” The old man looked to be considering his words for a long moment before shrugging apologetically.

“Sorry ta hear that lad. I don’t know what I’d do if I could’n read.” With that the book-keep dismissed Harold, looking back down at the scroll that was laying open on his work desk. To Harold’s eye, it looked like the man wasn’t just a book-keep, but an actual scrivener, something he hadn’t even heard of being practiced by anyone on his world for several decades. He frowned in thought as he exited the store, one possibility running through his mind now. But for it to work, he’d need someone who knew the language, or be able to read and write it himself. Out in the early evening twilight now, he pulled the brim of his hat down slightly and began walking aimlessly through the streets of Scara Brae, keeping a firm grip on his staff; and watching to avoid running into anyone as he meandered.

[Vincent the cold]

Vincent let out a cloud of breath as he sighed. It was a downright miserable sight, a fully grown man pretending to read yet failing. However, something intrigued Vincent. The man Admitted that he had forgotten how to read. no normal man would openly admit that. Vincent had found what he came for and walked up to the man at the counter.

"Sad that." He said as he looked at the door as it closed.

"If that man use to be able to read and then forgot how" The book keep paused and stroked his chin as Vincent interjected.

"How much for a learn to read book and this one." Vincent tapped the book as he put it down.

"That specific book? it aint cheap sir." he said as he scratched his head "a Hundred gold, it was hard enough for me to get it let alone to part with it."

"Fair enough" Vincent dropped his hood and opened up his trench coat, blasting the room with frigid air. He grabbed one of his coin pouches and dropped it on the desk. "50 gold pieces right now, Write to the Icebreaker family on Eiskalt we will send the remainder. i don't have enough coin on me if that is fine."

"ice...Icebreaker?" He stammered "Right away, thank you sir have yourself a great day. if you have any spare time you must come back and have a coffee with me."

"I will hold you to that sir." Vincent said as he put up his hood and closed back up his trenchcoat, taking the books and putting them into his pockets as he walked outside to head after the man. It was a Balmy warm day, not that vincent would notice with the nature of his magic, the Sun was beating down on the people and the breeze had a slight chill to it. The would-be Teacher from his student amongst the crowd, after all his red hair and staff madee it quite easy to spot him, and headed his way.

"'ey you, Money Pants" a shot was heard from behind him. Vincent ignored them and kept walking, he had other things on his mind present. One of the would be muggers grabbed his cloak and yanked back as hard as they could. "I was talking to ye'"

The baffoons had caused a scene now. With the sudden removal of his trenchcoat the High pressure of frigid air was released rapidly. causing a blast of frigid air to go in every direction by ten metres, dropping the temperature rapidly. Dirt and dust blew back all around them as the Icebreaker turned around. Two Raggidly dressed men stood there, dumbstruck as to what had just happened.

"This is your ONLY warning, Give me back my trenchcoat." The Icebreaker commanded. his right hand formed into a fist as his left hand clasped it.

"How bout we just dig in and find what coin you still got eh?" The bigger of the two said.

That was the wrong answer for the impatient Icebreaker. He Muttered 'Ice Garden' under his breathe as his fist slammed into the ground. Black spikes of frigid ice erupted from the ground in a cone like fashion stopping only as the ice wrapped around the big guys legs. It wasn't his fault that he had picked a fight with an Icebreaker.

"Bastard!" The other would-be criminal called out as he rushed at Vincent's side, catching him off guard.

[Reytac]

Harold froze in place as he was walking, his thoughts completely disrupted by the shout behind him. He spun in place to see what was going on, and a large frown etched itself onto his face when he saw two men grabbing a third, especially with the call that had accompanied it. He started moving forward even as the trench coat was ripped from the man, his pace faltering slightly at the blast of cold air washed over him. As the wanna-be muggers and their impromptu victim argued, Harold was scratching a rune onto the ground with the base of his staff. It wouldn't take much for something like this to start pulling in other people, and even though this wasn't his world, he was still stuck in that protective mindset that had been ingrained into him.

Then the ice erupted into the world and Harold rapidly re-evaluated just what kind of place he had fallen into. There was absolutely no sign of anyone or anything other than the humans and other fairly similar races in the area, and none of them looked to be trying to help the victim. That meant that magic actually existed here, and it could be used by normal people without a contract? The thoughts flew through Harold's mind fast and furious before vanishing as his rune was finished. As the cone of ice sprang into existence around the first attacker, the quickly sketched rune began to glow with ethereal light, and Harold felt a comforting pull that he hadn't experienced in weeks.

The 'Creature' rune hummed with power as dirt and detritus from the area began shooting rapidly into the air above it, piling up into a heap that was about half as large as a normal human being. Then the rune on the ground vanished, reappearing on the center of the pile. The pile stretched and warped, extruding arms from the center, the bottom part separating into two distinct legs, and finally a rough caricature of a head appeared atop it. The head had a face that was simply two hollows where the eyes should be and a deep gash in place of its mouth, which was currently open and emitting a sound like gravel and rocks falling together.

Before the rushing mugger could actually reach his target, this creation reached him. Solid arms locked around the man's legs and sealed together, flowing into a solid loop of dirt and stones that secured his legs. Then the golem anchored itself to the ground with its legs fusing to the path beneath it, halting the attempted criminal's forward momentum entirely. As he struggled in place against the sudden hold Harold caught up to the action himself, and laid his staff on the edge of the man's shoulder, ready to smash a blow into his head.

"I think that is quite enough of that little men. How about you return the property of the nice ice mage to him now hmm?" Though Harold had a rather pleasant smile on his face, his tone was as cold as the air about them as he nodded to the ice-wielding man.

[Vincent the cold]

Vincent was shocked when someone jumped to his aid. He was use to being out in Salvar and fighting the church. Normally he was off fighting the assasins in a one on one combat style. This time it was 2v2 and based off of what was grabbing the other man he didnt really have anything to worry about.

"You know, i was coming to find you when these fools decided to attack" Vincent said as he placed his balled up right fist ontop of his left hands palm and started to force some magic between them. "Now, either you return my belongings or i shall encase you in pure black ice. Good luck ever seeing the sun again, or being warm for that matter." Vincent certainly could of just sealed the would be mugger away and just take his coat back. but then the fool wouldnt of been given a chance to regret his mistake.

"Yeah right, and i am the King of dumbasses if you think i would just hand this coat over." He stated as he struggled to get free.

"Poor choice of words. you have officially crossed the path of an Icebreaker, The strongest Icemage to come out of the Icebreaker family in decades." Vincent threw his hands to his right as he whispered some words. "Ice Claymore"

A massive sword made out of pure black ice formed in a flash as he threw his fist back. With the sudden appearance of the sword both muggers turned pale. the Flanking mugger struggled to run for his life but the golem still had a solid hold on his legs. Vincent took off towards the one holding his coat and started to swing towards his outstretched arm. the man was still unable to move due to the ice Vincent had wrapped his legs in earlier. Not suprisingly the Mugger dropped his trench coat and began screaming bloody murder as he clenched his eyes shut.

As he opened his eyes Vincent was holding both his coat and the sword, the sword resting up against his own shoulder.

"Thanks for my shit back" Vincent smugly said as he snapped his fingers and all the ice disappeared into a miriad of black smoke almost instantly. "Now let's get out of here, i got something for you. Names Vincent Icebreaker by the way"

[Reytac]

Harold nodded slowly, taking in the impressive ice manipulation that this Vincent individual had managed to pull off in such quick succession without seeming to strain at all. From the casual display of power with both the grasping ice and the massive blade, he probably hadn't needed Harold's help at all. Still, Harold didn't regret his actions in the least, and it from what the other spell-user had said, he was happy to have it. Harold brought his staff back then jabbed the tip into the back of the head of the man his golem was still holding onto, knocking the criminal out cold. Once the man had slumped over in his creation's hold, the rune-user dispersed the stone and dirt entity, letting it dissolve back into rubble and detritus on the street.

He swung his staff back around and tucked it under his arm, tilting his head to one side as he indicated that the other should start walking. He had no idea where this man was planning on going, or what he had for him or why he was looking for Harold, but for now he was content to go along with the flow. With that in mind though, it couldn't really be that much worse than the last mage he trusted. The likelihood of his luck being that utterly abysmal were slim..right? He shook his head rapidly to dispell those thoughts as the two of them walked through the streets of the town.

"Likewise, my name is Harold Linsbaine. It is a pleasure to meet you Ser Icebreaker." As he walked the young rune-wielder was studying the man next to him. Specifically, he was trying to figure out how it was that the trench coat was able to contain the frigid air that had been unleashed from Vincent when it was torn from him. There were quite likely enchantments woven into it, but were they heating, or focused on straight containment? And was Vincent prone to the cold, or was his body magically acclimatized to the chill? The person walking with him was a strange enigma, and quite fascinating. There was also that black ice that he had created from the ether, which Harold would like to get a sample of to study - it had seemed to be different from regular ice somehow, beyond the color, and incorporating a rune based on it into his research could hold interesting connotations. For now though he needed to find out what the other person was after.