Fantasy The 12th Great Labor

[mechanimated]

All across Aesthura, news of a legendary


endeavor has begun to spread...

​

Welcome, would-be contributors to the 12th Great Labor of Aesthura! Welcome to Scholar's Keep! Here, you will rub shoulders with the most ambitious, skilled, intelligent, and overconfident Aesthurans in the land. All of you have come to answer the call put out by the most notable, powerful sorceress in living memory: Sylwyn Uwenmoor. At her command, leaflets have gone up in every corner of Aesthura - from the most squalid shantytowns to the grandest cities. Those believing themselves worthy - whether rightly or wrongly - have responded.


Pouring in from all over Aesthura, natives and Outworlders alike have come to Scholar's Keep to prove themselves, find fame and glory, acquire wealth, and more. Will you find what you seek?

 

[mechanimated]

The only thing I hate about this place, though Lowry sullenly as she dug through her many leather suitcases, is how goddamn loud it is.


It's true that Scholar's Keep, owing to the never-ending construction, magicians exploding things at all hours of the night, and drunken philosophers throwing chairs, is in a constant state of pandemonium. A number of minor mages were doing booming business sealing peoples bedrooms against sound. Lowry hadn't had the chance to enlist such a wizard yet, as (much to her chagrin) she had been recently forced to relocate. The tower she used to live and work in had broken off entirely yesterday, the combination of haphazard architecture and overcrowding finally spelling its doom. It knocked down four more buildings on the way, and demolished one of the lower markets. Honestly, it had been something of a minor miracle that it hung on as long as it did. Everyone who had been living in any of the structures that had been destroyed was being relocated to this newly constructed wing, supposedly temporarily, but Lowry suspected that wasn't going to end up being the case.


Setting a crucible on the table, Lowry went to one of the narrow, crooked windows, and leaned out over the street. It was dusk, the cobblestones below painted gold and bloody red by the light of the setting sun. Sunsets here were always amazing. Lowry attributed it to the absurd amount of magical energy in the air. Perhaps it did something to the light. Or perhaps sunsets were beautiful all on their own. Lowry had a mid-tower room, the velvety purple sky above her criss-crossed with lines of laundry. By some unfortunate quirk of construction, the tower was designed with single rooms all stacked atop each other, and a single spiral staircase running through them all - meaning the lower down you lived, the more of your neighbors would be running up and down through your room day in, day out. As far as Lowry knew, she was the first one to have begun moving in, but for once she didn't look forward to meeting her housemates. It was gonna be a nightmare...Lowry made a mental note to inquire whether it was possible to localize a muffling spell to a single staircase. Regardless, the idea of people tramping through what was effectively both her workspace and her bedroom was not the least bit appealing.


Returning to the table, Lowry continued to remove implements and set up her workspace. She'd have to apologize later to anyone living above her - smelting work tended to produce a lot of smoke, noise, and unpleasant smells. Perhaps whoever lived at the very top would be willing to swap rooms, but she doubted it. Maybe the person directly above would agree to switch, and then the one above THAT would find the arrangement so annoying THEY'D agree to switch, and then...


Snapping back to reality with a yelp, Lowry dropped her portable kiln and flapped her singed hand through the air. The kiln had a charmed fire homunculus living inside to keep it readily hot, and she had let her mind drift while handling it. Bah! Leaving the unpacking for later, Lowry clattered downstairs to the water pump. Yes, this particular building had a water pump. No plumbing whatsoever. If you wanted water, you went to the ground floor, took a bucket, and dragged it all the way up to your room. Working the lever with her uninjured hand, Lowry ran her burn under the cold water and contemplated (for the 347th time) whether it had been worth leaving home for this.

 

[XxLuluxX]

The day was bright, sun filtering down with its golden rays, turning his surroundings into rich, vibrant colours.


Looking around at the madness that was Scholars Keep, ducking as a chair, or something rather alike it, smashed overhead. He quickly, at that point, attempted an escape to try and find his accommodation. He looked at the dog-eared piece of paper, on which the address had been written, before once more folding it neatly and tucking it away in his pocket. This place was truly a mess, on the way through the lower sections he could've sworn he'd nearly been blown to smithereens, TWICE! He didn't have a bad word to say about Wizards, but honestly! Saftey equipment his arse! They only wore a pair of goggles and maybe if they were lucky some gloves, to stop them burning or staining their hands.


Scholars keep may have had it's difficulties, yet he couldn't deny the fact it was somehow... Beautiful? Innovated? Something along those lines. But then again, to one whom was not partial to the arts and, unpredictably of magic, it could be seen as chaos. When infact the magic users, such as himself, liked to label it 'Organised Chaos'. Much different... Well... As different as siblings could be. But no matter now he criticised it, or praised it, it wouldn't change anything. Only his own view and if he was lucky a few others. Yet Ryan wasn't here to start a revolution. He was here to simply help build the bridge into the Wyrd. It was strangely exciting in someways. For whom knew what lay on the other side?!


Ryan let his hand slip down to the hilt of his rapier to rest, the cold metal a comforting feel to his fingertips. The dark hood had been drawn up around his face, leaving only his firm jawline visible, his eyes mere glimmers of reflected light. He had a small satchel, and a leather case, the only things that held his wordly possessions. A few changes of clothes, and some carefully packed ingredients. He satchel held a few crumpled maps; a pen made of a goose feather; pot of black ink (Which stained terribly!); and some empty scrolls for him to scribe findings or spells for others. Oh... and that half eaten loaf of bread from last Tuesday. He rubbed his calloused hands together, feeling the rough skin rub together.


He couldn't remember a time when his hands had been soft. Years of burns, working the land, and travelling had taken its toll, scarring his hands lightly, with a criss cross of lines. But that was what made Ryan... Ryan.

 

[Lumina]

Cendrillon's eyes slowly opened, her vision slowly adjusting from being asleep to awake. When she finally could see normal again she blinked, looking up to see the ceiling of her work space rather than that of her bedroom. She groaned as she sat up, her muscles screaming at her from yet again having fallen asleep a few hours prior on top of a pile of both opened and unopened books. She rubbed her back, looking around.


Shelves lined the walls, filled with various books and other magical items. A window stood on the far wall, overlooking a good chunk of Scholars Keep, and it was pouring in yellow and red from the setting sun. She groaned again, wondering how long she had been napping for.


The more she awakened the more sounds from the Keep she heard, despite the time growing so late. People hustling and bustling around, because as her mother always said, magic never sleeps! Thankfully she always slept like a log, so the loudness of the keep never bothered her. She stood up, her clothes a wrinkled mess (with a nice imprint of How to Train Your Dragon, Vol. III - A Medical Guide to Burns and Bite Marks on her left side) and her shoulders in knots. Stretching, she walked over to the window, glancing out at all the people still energetically walking about. She recognized many of them - mostly because she remembered everybody who stopped her because of who she was.


The lone child of the Nadjeschda house. A long line of mages ran through the family's history, all seeming to have an aptitude for some slot of magicks that landed them in the spotlight of fame in the world. Her paternal grandmother was apparently a world-renowned healer, and was even rumored to have raised the dead back to living once. But she had died of "unknown reasons" before she was born. And of course her parents, whose names had become known here in the keep. It was no wonder people knew who she was; either from the name or from the news of her parents murders, which had spread like wildfire. Either way, she looked on at all the people with love, feeling like everybody in the Keep was a small part of her magical family.


She grabbed her staff, a long pole taller than herself with a decorative half-moon-esque piece on its top, and many ribbons and metal adornments along the shaft. She touched the tip to her hand, which glowed a bit, then pressed her hand to her clothes, the wrinkles and book imprints vanishing, also cleaning her clothes. It was handy, knowing the cleaning/reset enchantment. It saved a lot of money on laundry.


She set her staff back down, untying and retying her braids, which had nearly come undone in her unplanned nap. She expertly tied the bottoms with the rope and stuck the feathers in like her mother had always done. She then grabbed a black cloak from a nearby hangar and wrapped it around herself, before looking out the window again. It looked to be a chilly night. Simply from looking at her outfit with its midriff-baring attire, it wasn't hard to guess Cendrillon liked to stay warm. Thankfully she had enchanted the cloak to keep her warm when she wore it. She hadn't had it on for more than a minute and she was already feeling cozy.


Cendrillon grabbed her staff again, her hand glowing of its own accord this time and she placed it on the top decoration, and suddenly it was floating on its own. She jumped on it side-saddle, and it floated over to the window and she unlatched it, the panes opening outward toward the city. She breathed in the fresh open air, and then she sped off, watching the city scenery pass by as she flew around.

 

[mechanimated]

Sylwyn Uwenmoor:





Scratching the tip of her nose idly with her pen, Sylwyn glanced up from her work to wave over her ever-present servant Luka. With the snow-white skin of her nose stained with ink, splatters of it dusting her fingers, she hardly looked the all-powerful sorceress she was. Sylwyn smiled fondly at the boy as he scampered over to pour her a steaming mug of tea. Privately, she called him her tea monkey, though never around the other servants. He was a chubby, bright-eyed boy of about 10 (his mother was hard-pressed to remember exactly when he had been born) and possessed of no magical abilities other than fantastic tea-making. Sylwyn would hate to embarrass him in front of his friends, but he was just so adorable! With the universal "run along now" hand-wave to free the child of his duties, Sylwyn turned back to the pages she was poring over. Covered in dense writing, complex algorithms, spell-circles of incredible intricacy, and runes in dozens of languages, the notes would be mostly incomprehensible to anyone else.


"I do think I've almost got it. If I could just figure out that damned hole that all the ether-threads keep getting sucked into. The structure is there, it's just...bah!"


Tossing her pen down in disgust, Sylwyn sipped her tea as angrily as possible, glaring at the parchment as if the whole thing was its fault. She leaned back in the chair, spinning the mug of tea on her finger, turning it different colors, and juggling the mug and liquid separately in the air with the idle indifference of a student twirling a pen while engrossed in a piece of homework.


"Indirion! Come here, please, darling. I need you to carry some letters for me."


With slow, heavy thuds, a massive creature sidled into the room. Even with the doors all built specially wide for him, the being seemed to dwarf everything in the room. He looked wolfish, though his face had something more reptillian about it. Flat and set with seven milky, too-small eyes over a wide, fanged mouth, Indirion was too bestial to betray any emotion in his face. As an Awakened, a being borne of some natural substance in close proximity to powerful magic gaining sentience, Indirion was one of the oldest living things in Aesthura. He was an Iron Awakened, who first knew his own mind some four and a half thousand years ago when an iron mine located near a particularly thin patch of veil gave rise to him. Physically strong, almost immune to pain, deeply intelligent in a distinctly inhuman way, and wielding an unusual type of elemental earth magic (though he himself would call it a "brotherhood"), Indirion was Sylwyn's closest friend and most powerful ally.


His voice was a deep metallic boom when he spoke, like an ancient and massive church bell.





"Ever the fitting tasks for me, Syl. Shall I fetch your slippers, too, my lady?"


Sylwyn twittered with laughter, handing the imposing creature a stack of papers bound with purple ribbon. Each had a name on the front, and nothing more. Indirion didn't need more. He had lived in the Keep long enough to feel every breeze brushing its weathered stones - finding people here was his specialty.


"Come now, dear, you know I only ask you because I want to make a good impression. I think I've right near got it, but perhaps one of those lovely little fools down below can help me with this last, damnable obstacle to success. They're all so...enthusiastic, you know? It warms the cold cockles of my heart, it does. Just feeling all the warring magics is so invigorating. I always loved teaching - I should have started a school ages ago."





"Yes, and gotten around to ruining perfectly good children all the sooner. You're an incorrigible scourge on humanity and the sooner they send you packing into the Wyrd the better off they'll be. It's a miracle half your 'school' hasn't blown up the other half yet."





"Ahh, well, I never said I was GOOD at teaching...only that I loved it. And a good attitude is the first step to success, right?! Anyway, take those out for me, would you? It's important they don't get lost, which is why I'm sending you."


"Very well...Have the smithy melt some pewter for me before I get back, would you?"


Indirion took the letters delicately. They were but scraps in his huge hands, for all that he handled them with gentle care. Each was addressed by hand, sealed with Sylwyn's own mark - a hand clutching a dagger by the blade, surmounted by three stars. Sylwyn thought it her private little joke at the expense of her detractors - a literal representation of being cut by her own sword, as naysayers insisted she inevitably would be from messing with things she didn't understand. Each letter contained some variation of the same missive -





Dear such-and-such,


I believe that my efforts here, as well as those of many of the others I have invited to Scholar's Keep, have brought my goal within reach. There is, however, a single hurdle left to surmount. My attempts to make a bridge into the Wyrd have, despite seemingly sound theory, failed in practical application. In short...the strands of power keep disappearing. Vanishing, sucked into some unknown Nothing that by all rights shouldn't exist, as there truly IS nothing between Wyrd and reality. The veil is like the mathematical concept of a line - perfectly thin, having no width but still existing as a barrier. And yet, something is happening to my weaving between here and the Wyrd that just...takes it. Sucks it away. I would like you to attend to me tomorrow evening, you handpicked few, and witness me creating a small portal and watch it get pulled apart. Afterwards, you will be free to discuss and meditate on what you have seen. I hope you, with your fresh eyes and new perspective, will be able to impart me with some insight.


Mage Absolute of Aesthera


Thrice-Riven, Thrice-Blessed of the Counted Realms


Slayer of Urtem Nalep and His Dark Contingent


Her Ladyship Sorceress Sylwyn Uwenmoor





The letters would be making their way to the addressees soon enough. For now, Sylwyn drank her tea, stared at her papers, and thought inscrutable thoughts.





Lowry Cuts-The-Leaves:


Lowry was in the middle of purifying silver when she heard a pounding from downstairs. Annoyed, she yelled some obscenities in that general direction mixed in with the assurance that she'd be right there in just a half-hour or so. Maybe Lowry would get lucky and that airheaded little heiress girl from upstairs would hear and answer. She seemed to like flying out at the most inopportune times, though, so perhaps not. Cendullon? Cendillion? Something like that. The pounding continued, encouraging Lowry to new heights of swearing-related achievement. When it cut out abruptly, in apparent frustration, it was just as well. Lowry had assumed whoever it was either gave up and left or was let in by someone on a lower floor, until she heard an unfamiliar voice speak from the stairwell. It was cold as steel and made her head ring.


"You'll be wanting to put that through the pyrolysis machine at least another two times, if you're trying to get it pure. Not bad for a little fleshy thing like you, though. Few of your kind have any sense for the deep earth."


Lowry turned to find the top half of a massive, grey-blue beast protruding from the steps. He appeared to be quite interested in what she was doing, though it was hard to tell from his expressionless face. At the very least, he (or it?) was peering around the room a fair bit, offering the occasional bit of advice or even complimentary commentary on her workshop.


"Anyway, I came to deliver some letters from Sylwyn to the folks that live here, only I didn't see anyone on the lower floors. I let myself in after your prodigious array of swears led me to believe you were otherwise occupied. There's one for you, there, I've put it on top. Have a lovely day, little flesh thing. Watch that silver, it'll oxidize."


And before Lowry could properly comprehend what had happened, he was gone. She had to exert some serious effort of will to turn back to her work, not wanting to waste the silver, and it was only when Lowry (grudgingly following the suggestion of the terrifying intruder) had put it in the pyrolysis machine for another separation cycle that she turned to the stack of letters. As promised, hers was on top, and she opened it eagerly. A letter from Sylwyn? Reading through it with growing excitement, she finished it and ran to the stairs with the rest of the stack.


"Hey! Is anybody else home? There's letters for you! Guys!"


Lowry pounded up the stairs with the stack in her hand, calling our for her housemates.

 

[CannibaLilly]

April tapped her pen on her desk in the tuneless rhythm of the spinning gramophone record. She had bought this album in a music store some years ago, because it reminded her of home. The Dark Sisters used to be her parents' favourite band. The two demon girls hissed and whined into their microphones, accompanied by the sound of fingernails scratching on black boards and the odd scream. She doubted other people would call this cacophony "music", but nothing helped April to focus on her studies better than the Dark Sisters did. Still, she didn't want to get into trouble with her housemates, so she kept the volume low.


These housemates... April used to live almost alone in this tower of the Keep, but recently some other houses had collapsed and the inhabitants had been relocated. Some had ended up in this tower. April wasn't sure if she liked that or not. Even though she lived at the second last room at the top it meant the house was more busy than usual, and April didn't like being disturbed during her studies. On the other hand, more people meant you almost always ran into someone on your way. Maybe one day April would find a way to start a conversation with someone...


The calm mood the Dark Sisters and her studies had helped her built up was dispelled by these gloomy thoughts and April let her gaze wander out of the window. The sun had just set, but a silhouette was visible against the dying light that didn't exactly help April to cheer up. She knew the girl that was flying through the air, her pigtails waving in the wind. April didn't exactly have a problem with her, they had never talked after all, but April wasn't keen on making her first friend here a human. She dreaded to think what that would do to her already bad reputation in the demon community.


Someone was yelling in the staircase and even though April couldn't make out the actual words over the sound of her music, the tone told her that someone was being called. The odds that someone was calling for her were tiny, but she couldn't focus on her books anyway, so she stepped into the staircase and looked down to find the source of the noise.


"Y-yes?" she called.

 

[SilverNova]

Scholar's Keep was naturally a cacophonously noisy place. Skyler had learned this the first time she had gone through the portal to get to Aesthura, when her already enhanced senses were multiplied by ten. The sounds and scents of thousands upon thousands of occupants had rushed to her like a stampede of angry rhinos. Needless to say this stunned her and she recalled stumbling to clutch the nearest wall for support. It was an embarrassing sort of entrance for someone who hoped to work their way up to being captain of the guard at the magnificent city in the sky, but it taught her just how different things were around here. Here, at all the worlds' center of knowledge and mystical practices, magic was never shunned or ostracized. Here Skyler could just be who she was meant to be as the power of the wyrd flowed and caressed over the very stones that lined the hold.


However, today, mostly because of the unusual schedule she had been assigned to, Skyler was having a harder time than normal relaxing. Even though she had just gotten off of work, she still felt the tension in the air that lingered about her quite strongly. The day had started with her commanding officer informing her that she was to be relocated. At first, startled by the sudden change, she assumed that it was because the captain thought her to be under performing in her duties. Though she quickly found out it was actually due to a problem outside of her control. Apparently one of the oh so many spires adjoined to the keep had had an architectural mishap causing several of the residents to need to be transferred to a new sector of the enormous fortress. Skyler, because of her achievements in her line of work, just happened to have been the guard that was picked to moderate the tower all these people were now going to. So she had spent the afternoon packing up her subtle belongings and moving into the first floor of the belfry. Perhaps if she had been Chief Ruben, the leader of her cadre, she may have been able to work out some deal with Sylwyn about being able to get a higher up floor, but because she was still mostly new to the keep it was a mute point. But it wasn't just the sudden move that had frayed Skyler's nerves, it was more than that. She had been reassigned to working even closer with Sylwyn Uwenmoor, not that that was necessarily a bad thing, it was just that she had gotten so comfortable guarding the north wing and now the importance of her job, as well as the stress, had just quadrupled. It was on her shoulders to protect the efforts of the great Sorceress and prevent any and all attempts to destroy what everyone had been so diligently working towards here, the portal into the wyrd.


Sheathing her claymore blade, Skyler hung the sword upon a rack in the main living quarters of her floor. Every guard's apartment contained the same basic utilities which included, but was not limited to, a swords rack, wine and beer cellars, a small armory, a mount stable attached on the right, as well as all the other normal rooms and accommodations the other floors came with. While Skyler undressed out of her typical leather and cloth attire, a rap at the door leading up the stairs echoed into the spire. Unfortunately, because she was still half-dressed she was forced to scoot around the corner into the bathroom and let someone else handle it. That was just another one of the downsides of staying in the first floor. No privacy. Well she'd have to get used to it or risk being demoted if she asked for a different position at the keep.


Due to her boosted hearing, Skyler honed in and was able to hear every word from the anonymous visitor when he trampled up the steps to one of the floors atop of her's. So she was not surprised when several minutes later a shout from above floated down the stairwell announcing mail had just come in. These were the first letters to have been delivered to the new residents of the tower. As such Skyler didn't expect that she'd have gotten a note in that stack. After all she hadn't seen or heard from her parents in over five years and there was no reason anyone else would really be sending her letters, but there was no harm in checking the mail anyways.


As Skyler started towards the steps a soft shrill whine sounded from behind her. Automatically it made her hairs stand on end. It was the sound of a carnivorous pack hunter sending out a warning, a warning that few would dare to disobey, but Skyler knew this beast would make an exception for her, if she pleaded. She turned around to face the grand beast of prey, a practically extinct species, the ichneumon. She spoke carefully to him words of trust and an understanding, but never words of assertiveness or commanding as one would speak to a bad pet, as ichneumons were not pets they were wild predators. "Levi," Skyler identified him by name, "I'm just going up a few floors. I'll be right back". Hearing her reassuring words, the creature huffed and laid his head back down on the floor next to Skyler's recently prepped bed. While Skyler turned around she sighed. She should've asked an expert on extinct animals whether those ichneumon eggs she had found all those years ago were still alive when she got them. Would have saved her a bunch of trouble.


Trekking up the stairs, she was painfully aware of all the scents and sounds that loitered on the twisted stairway. For a second it almost made her want to stop and keel over, though she continued on anyways, at least until she noticed the woman holding a handful of letters standing on the outlet to the staircase above her. Meeting up on the floor, Skyler asked, "There any for me? Uhm, my name's Skyler Tamorai".

 

[mechanimated]

"Ah!"


Lowry turned to Skyler (@SilverNova) with a grin.


"We've got mail. From Sylwyn."


She handed over the letter with no small degree of smugness. Unwarranted, perhaps, but having read the missive first Lowry felt a measure of satisfaction. It was much like being in grade school all over again, and knowing the choicest gossip first. Lowry folded her own copy of the letter into her pocket, her smile wild and eager. It was clearly all the woman could do to restrain herself.


"Sylwyn herself! Can you imagine? And she wants us to OBSERVE her! Tomorrow! Actually watch her do magic! Oh gods, I could burst!"


As Lowry spoke, her eyes took on a mad glint, and unbeknownst to the tall and gangly corvid, her arms were sprouting stiff black feathers. Lowry tended to go crow-y when she was excited, especially in the feather department. The change seemed to be entirely beneath Lowry's notice as she waved the empty envelope about, muttering rapidly and only half to Skyler about the deliveryman - surely it had to be Indirion. Lowry voiced half a dozen speculations about the letter, the messenger, and the magic to be performed tomorrow in about thirty seconds.


"April (@CannibaLilly)! I know you're up there with your daft music...letter for you! And boy is it damned incredible! Come down! Cen-cenri, er, Cendrillon (@Lumina)! Letter for you!"


Lowry alternated between calling out for housemates and inundating Skyler with theories about the precise nature of the observation to go down tomorrow. It was quite obvious that maintaining a human enough shape to speak was only just within her extremely excitable limits.

 

[Lumina]

Cendrillon had started flying back to her apartment at the top of the tower when she heard lots of noises. She grinned, excited at the prospects of what was getting everybody so excited. She flew back through her window, but her excitement was too much and the staff stopped before the door but she did not. She flew off the staff, causing her to hit and open her front door, causing her to fall on and nearly tumble down the first few steps of the staircase. She righted herself, knowing that would leave a bruise in the morning, but hopped right up, too excited to see what was going on.


Running down the stairs she soon saw her housemates, enthusiastically chattering about something, as well as holding letters in their hands.


"Lowry! Skyler! What's going on??"


She ran to meet them, taking the letter with her own name written on it, immediately recognizing Sylwyn's crest. She ripped the envelope open, grabbing the paper inside. Her finger glowed a moment and she touched the letter, causing it to float in front of her face no matter how she moved. She twirled on her feet, up and down a few stairs as her eyes pored over the lines of ink with quick and practiced precision. Upon reaching the bottom she grabbed the paper from the air, grinning excitedly at the two other bodies in the stairway.


"Oh this is COOL! I haven't seen Syllie in a long time!"


Cendrillon seemed to bounce in place from the excitement.

 

[CannibaLilly]

By now, April had made her way down the staircase to take the letter from Lowry. Opening the envelop, she took some steps back from the other three girls to read her letter in private. It wasn't so much that she doubted her letter would say anything different than theirs, but the company of three people at once made her nervous and she needed all her nerves to stomach the news in the letter.


Sylwyn wanted her. She seemed to value April's opinion enough to sent for her and to ask her to observe her work. April had to read the letter three times in a row to be absolutely sure. "I can't believe it," she muttered and couldn't help but smile. Sure, Sylwyn wasn't the first person April wished to impress with her hard work, but certainly not the last either. Sylwyn had taken her in when April had had nowhere else to go, and if there was one thing April didn't forget, it was kindness.


She folded the letter carefully and put it into a pocket of her coat. For a moment she stood there like a lemon. Her first instinct was to turn around and walk back into her room, get some rest before the great day and maybe re-read some chapters on the Wyrd, but if she'd ever wanted to get in touch with her house-mates now she had the chance. Channelling all her courage she walked back to the others and said, "this is amazing, but... why us?" She half dreaded the answer, dreaded to find out that all the others turned out to be experts on portals to the Wyrd while she would only serve as an example for what could go wrong.


In April's head a horrible scene took place in which she saw Sylwyn pointing at her tomorrow evening, announcing, "and April here, she lost her whole world to the Wyrd! So let's be extra careful okay? Thanks, April, that was all for you today." She swallowed and tried to clear her mind. A demon who got scared of her own imagination, her family would turn in their graves if they knew!

 

[Grissellegitta]

With the thickest yet cheapest of curtains she can find, Erica can't tell if the sun is out or is it the moons. She must have slept the whole day since she continuously went for the libraries for two days without sleep. If not for the noise in the area she dwells in she could concentrate on her research more. If only she could afford the room to be sound proofed. For now all she can manage are ear plugs that are very uncomfortable to use.


Looking around as she sat up from the sofa she surveyed the plants she's experimenting on by the night light which seemed to failed the test she was doing for the 8th time. Erica then gazed over her bed where her some of her unpacked luggages are still taking space on it along with her journals and books since her table must be free of clutter when working on something. Actually her table is the only tidy area in her room thank goodness she have no roommate for now or she'll be forced to have a cleaning day.


Just moments after she removed her earplugs and sighed a relief from uncomfort yet the rush of the noises of the area again is back, she heard her housemate, Lowry who she never heard being that excited or well since Erica hasn't been getting to know them much yet called her other roommates. 'Maybe the routine mail has arrived' she thought to herself as she now opens her curtains and proper light peering through the windows. The doors from the other rooms opened meaning they have responded to the call. She almost hissed back at the light but decided to check what's happening downstairs. With ears resting by her door she listened intently on the event but she forgot she doesn't have exceptional hearing like her parents who are elves or the other races so she just went on waiting for doors sounds of closing meaning they are done and back to what they are about and just go down and check herself after its over.

 

[mechanimated]

Lowry was half-losing her head, giddy with glee. With the others opening their envelopes, making various comments both excited and nervous, Lowry took a second to search through the stack. There were a number of other names here, missives that hadn't been claimed...Well, I'll just leave them down here and hopefully they'll spot them later...It wasn't like they'd have any trouble finding Sylwyn's castle. Or, er, part of the castle? Scholar's Keep was such a stacked up, messy warren...but Sylwyn's section of it was impossible to miss. For one thing, it was always surrounded by crowds of both admirers and protesters. For another, despite it not being particularly large, fancy, or well guarded, it was by far the most elegant and well-made structure in the entire Keep. With other buildings and towers growing pell-mell around it like a bunch of crooked toadstools, Sylwyn's personal tower was a straight ivory flute, the stonework airy and simplistically dignified.


Turning to April, Lowry allowed herself a brief frown. Why us indeed? Obviously, they weren't the best. Not entirely useless, far from it, but not the best. Lowry could only assume they had something Sylwyn needed. Perhaps they were just the most expendable...Yes, why don't you have the honor of climbing through the portal first? No, no, it's perfectly safe...Why am I wearing lead armor? Oh, it's just the fashion...





"Well, I have no idea, honestly...But it says she wants us to observe her experiments. Oooh, god, I can't wait to see her work! Maybe when she's working the magic, she can't really focus on anything else, and she needs someone to see what goes wrong?"


Lowry briefly considered the small group. Cendrillon, April, Skyler, herself...none of them were that great at anything in particular. But Sylwyn wouldn't have asked for them if they didn't have SOMETHING great about them. Lowry at the very least trusted the expertise of the great sorceress. Calling up the stairs one last time, Lowry shook the stack of envelopes in her fist.


"Erica, I know YOU'RE up there at least! Come down already, quit sleepin' all day and check out the great news!"


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**Note, next time I post (which will be soon) I'm gonna magically transport everyone to Sylwyn's tower with the power of ~narrative storytelling~, so anything you wanna get done, post about it now. If anyone has a problem with that, post in the OOC chat.**