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The Deal

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Re: The Deal

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SilentButterflies on Sat Aug 08, 2020 5:42 am

Alaric watched as Regar's expression changed to that of excitement and it stirred something inside of him that he had long since forgotten. The necromancer had become somewhat numb to anything outside of his desire to achieve his goal and he wondered absently how he might feel when they had gotten to where they wanted to be. Although that thought in itself made Alaric feel as though he should be happy, he wondered if his misdemeanours along his journey would all suddenly seem worth it. It was a complex web of thoughts that he often managed to block out by action and that was exactly what he planned to do now.

In response to Regar's description of how he would use Alaric's instructions, Alaric simply nodded, his jaw set with tension. "Okay," he responded simply. "I think that we should meet here before the ball tomorrow for the exchange."

At Regar's next question however, the necromancer pondered for a moment before he responded. He was reluctant to trust his partner as he had observed previously but he also knew that sometimes safety ran in numbers and in this case he needed as much safety as he could get, especially when they were so close to their end game. "Actually, there is," he explained. "One of the runes placed around the castle was compromised earlier today. I need you to keep an eye out for any newcomers at the ball tomorrow, anybody you don't recognise. If you find anything, report it back to me immediately."

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Re: The Deal

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby FaddedFox on Wed Aug 19, 2020 6:56 am

Regar tilted his head to the side at the mention of one of the runes being compromised. What could have done that? Very few people got through the illusionary ones; especially if they weren't expecting it, which meant they were. They had to have a lot of magic at their disposal too. What did they want? What cards did they have to play this dangerous game of Fate? he would certainly be on the look out for anything new and strange.

At the mention of being in the ball, he couldn't help but smirk. "I am not going to be there. I am not regarded quite as highly as you. That's why meeting here beforehand is optimal. No one will see us together and no one will question why you are even talking to a lowly runic mage. But I will keep my eyes open and see what I can find outside of the ball, maybe figure out who messed with the rune. I at least, can wander aimlessly in the town without raised eyebrows." He got up from his perch then and gave a mock bow. "See you on the morrow," he smiled before departing and heading home to begin his work.
"What happened to your forehead?"
"A fork."
"A fork?"
"Yes, sir. I wish I'd been eating with a spoon."
"You stabbed yourself with a fork?"
"It flipped."
"The fork."
"A flipped fork?"
"It flicked my forehead."
Pausing in the counting of my change, he gave me a narrow look.
"That's right," I said. "A flipped fork flicked my forehead.”
― Dean Koontz, Odd Thomas

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Re: The Deal

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SilentButterflies on Sat Sep 05, 2020 4:20 am

The next evening came around quickly and there was an undeniable buzz in the atmosphere of the city as people busied themselves with arrangements for the ball. Although there were open advertisements for the event floating around the different districts, it was an unwritten rule that only witches and wizards of a certain status could attend; if you didn't live up to the places in the hierarchy that mattered, you would be turned away without a second thought. Aradia was well aware of this rule and had spent most of the evening yesterday, and most of the day today conjuring an illusion spell that would transform her into the daughter of nobility. Thankfully, given her background, the young witch knew a thing or two about what it meant to come from a background of wealth and so she had been able to perfect her new appearance with the use of her prior knowledge and the help of her spell book.

Aradia had only left the inn, in which her and Mydrann had taken up residence, once during the day, to gather supplies for her spell and to help Mydrann find something that he could wear. She had found herself to be somewhat twitchy as she had kept her cloak around herself to conceal most of her appearance. It was a strange feeling to be back in her home city and she had found herself to be battling with emotions that she hadn't thought herself possible of feeling anymore. She had spent such a long time shrouded by hatred and bitterness that the idea of any other emotion had become somewhat of an alien concept to her and Aradia was finding it hard to identify what it was she was actually feeling. Thankfully though, during their time in the village, nobody had recognised her as predicted, and so the two had pressed on with their plan.

As the witch readied herself for her spell, she pinned a dark piece of material up at the window to ensure that any light wouldn't capture unwanted attention. She was currently knelt on the wooden floor of a small offshoot room, with the ingredients she had gathered for the spell laid on the floor around her in a circle. Her spell book was placed on the ground in front of her and as she read through the words one final time, Aradia could already feel the power coursing through her veins. A cool breeze seemed to flow through the room as she completed the spell, a soft golden glow encasing her form as it moved to change everything about the witch that made her who she was. Once the illusion had been cast and the glow subsided, Aradia glanced down at herself to take in her costume. A soft dress of light powder blue hung to the floor from her shoulders, with threads of sparkling silver draped through the material. A chain of pears hung around her neck, two pearl droplets from her ears, and her face, which was usually covered by a mass of unruly silver hair was now framed by beautiful dark curls that were pinned half up and half down, a few falling delicately to her shoulders. Aradia's usually cold, grey eyes had been replaced by a pair of deep blue orbs that held a warmth that the witch could only ever have dreamed of portraying. Needless to say her transformation had been a success. Aradia didn't usually consider herself to be beautiful, maybe she had before her banishment, but since she had been residing in a cave in the middle of nowhere, physical appearance had become unimportant to her. However, there was no denying that the form she was taking now was enchanting, and Aradia felt bitterly excited to figure out how she could use such an appearance to her advantage. It was with this thought that returned to the room that she and Mydrann had been sharing.

She glanced at the dragon as she entered, before approaching him with a coy smile. "Ophelia Edwards, daughter of Lord and Lady Edwards. I've travelled all the way from Fara'fel to study at the college here. It's nice to meet you." Even Aradia's voice had changed, a soft bell like chime ringing out from her lips as she held out her hand for Mydrann to take.

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