Snippet #1993554

Larloch, exhausted after walking such a distance to this place was furious, not only did the Wizards of Omperus look down upon and treat him like dirt for his father's descent into Necromancy, they took it upon themselves to make his life miserable at every other turn as well. He'd just been laughed out of the place a tenday or so ago because he theory on Molecular Transmutation and Compound Synergy Through Layered Construction had been 'too radical and more fictitious than fact" even though the very Necromancers they mocked were on the lead front in support of his thesis. Yes it took a whole group of masters to raise a corpse but with the proper single specialization why couldn't one mage do the work of four by making a larger unit and making the units work together. The idea couldn't have been that crazy, he even intends to prove it with water...granted as a fresh apprentice out the academy basics it's far beyond him at the moment.

Actually looking up and paying attention to his surroundings he saw a girl leaning against the wall of a building, hoping Grauenland style of dress didn't make him seem like a total creep in the dark, he approached her, hopefully she'd be able to tell him where he was. Better yet, she may even be able to help him with his theory, the Tavern behind her could come later, he'd always had issues with crowds. But right now he needed a dreamer to talk to, and if a grinning girl leaning against a tavern wall didn't have dreams than he was a Tauron's bastard. He was already a Necromancer's reject so it's not like he could sink any lower, right?

"Hail, I'm Larloch may I ask your name?" Curse his voice, always so weak and soft until he started casting, then it was a rich baritone more befitting his statue, guess that's life a mage that can't talk unless he's casting but is so new to his trade he can barely cast.