Prologue

This prologue is a locked thread; no IC reply required, simply an introduction to the upcoming campaign.


Prologue:

"Speaking for Veridium College, Athisa Veras."

The voice echoed in the oddly-shaped room. Magic formed the very bones of the School, and it often found unusual ways of influencing the day-to-day work that went on inside. The Adjunct Hall was a prime example: the room had 19 corners. Most days. Other days it had 13, still others it had 7. Regardless of geometry, voices were always amplified for reasons unknown, though not for lack of studying. It was said that the great scholar Urocyn spent seven years studying only Adjunct Hall and came away vowing never to set foot inside again.

The voice belonged to a woman of indeterminate old age, who stood from her chair leaning on a wooden-hafted spear. "We put forth Krav Thorne. His particular talents will be useful in the world of the aftermath," she stated in clear tones. A white-robed woman nearby leaned over to her neighbor and whispered something, but no one spoke in argument. A scribe wrote the name in a heavy book open on a wooden stand in front of him, and Athisa Veras sat back down.

"Speaking for Granite College, Coram Antior," said a wiry man with salt-and-pepper hair and deeply tanned skin, his voice a light tenor. "We put forth Yelnar. By the Stones, the boy could do better than hauling bricks about the city."

A few nearby chuckled, and the scribe dutifully recorded the second name.

"Dawnstone College, Radisa Tinemyto."

The priestess of Occasa, her dark skin indicating her Rhamian heritage, stood. As usual, she used few words, leaning her hands on the table before her and looking around the room as if daring anyone to speak against her. "Ephwrath, the dwarf."

A representative from Opal College, the formal pin indicating his affiliation at his collar, snorted aloud. "First, you'll have to find him in the Library. And then, you'll have to drag him out. And he still might be clutching a book. Why Ephwrath?"

Radisa turned to the half-elven scholar. "Because he has a higher calling. Do you oppose?" she said flatly, dark eyes flashing. The scholar held up his hands in mock surrender, and said nothing in return.

The south door to the Hall opened, and a halfling woman came rushing in, arms full of rolled-up maps, goggles pushed up on her forehead, black hair in a storm around her head. She came suddenly to realize that dozens of people were looking at her, and she came to a skidding stop. "I'm... late. Aren't I." It wasn't really a question.

"Well, while everyone's looking at me... Ildinale Briem speaking for Opal College. We put forth Viani Yelven. Need to get that girl out of my hair, always asking if she'll ever be allowed to leave," the halfling woman mutters, dropping her armload of maps onto a convenient table. The goggles slip down partway over her eyes, and she nudges them back absently with the back of her hand.

A Naucan woman, light brown skin setting off the pale sunburst pattern coloring her forehead, lowered the hood of her burgundy robe as she stood. The woman's voice was low and musical, a warm blanket on a cool night. "Adaye of Nigen, Whitestone College." Even as she spoke, many of those present heard the words inside their heads as well. "The girl Elora Ladinas. She has the advantage of our tutelage, as well as that of our friend Coram and the Granite. She has the soul of an explorer."

A dwarven man, dressed simply in peasant's clothing, face scarred and nose flattened as though it had seen its share of barroom brawls, was the next to stand. Before speaking, he looked toward the head of the hall, where the seven Masters sat watching the proceedings. The Master of Jade College, a gaunt elven man who sat with fingers steepled as he watched, raised an eyebrow in silent question as the dwarf paused. Several around the room looked about at their colleagues, no one seeming to understand the pause.

"Karok Silverhelm, speaking for Jade College. We put forth Verrian of Cyr," he stated.

At the Masters' table, the elven man shot from his chair, features set in anger. All eyes turned in that direction, silence falling over the room for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, the Master spoke. "This... expedition. It is very likely none of them will ever return. There are consequences, Karok," he said, each word bitten off sharply.

The dwarf inclined his head toward the Master. "There are always consequences, Master," he replied calmly.

The scribe looked toward the Master, pen paused above the book. The Master of Jade College returned to his seat, gesturing to the scribe to record the name.

Whether cowed by the apparent schism in Jade College, or because no one else chose to put forth a name, silence fell over the Adjunct Hall. No one left the room, waiting for the Masters to declare the gathering closed, but many shifted nervously in their seats or looked at one another in silent curiosity at what was to come next.

Finally, the Master of Whitestone College, Tullen Rothenend, the very image of the aged wizard down to the white beard and arcane symbols embroidered on the cuffs of his white robe, stood. "We all know there must be seven to leave. The other parties have had seven." He looked around at the gathering, but no one seemed willing to speak. "Very well. Tullen Rothenend, speaking for Whitestone College. I put forth Ember Elliad."

Nearly everyone in the room looked confused. Who was this seventh proposed by, of all people, the Master of Whitestone College? Then Adaye of Nigen stood. "Master... are you certain? She lacks training, and her bloodline..." she said, and then fell silent. She retained eye contact with the Master, suggesting that further conversation proceeded unheard.

Master Tullen smiled ruefully. "I understand, Adaye. But as our colleague from Jade has stated, there are always consequences..."