Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: smurphy@unix1.tcd.ie (Mithrandir(S)) Subject: [Sorc] Saoirse at the Guild Message-ID: Date: Thu, 11 Mar 1993 13:30:09 GMT ADMIN: Thanks to Bernie Hsiung for providing insight and comment about the Guild. The following was approved by him. Saoirse looked about herself. The kind man called Arcadio had left her on the steps of the Guild. He had to run, to help his friends. So she waved goodbye to him, and ascended a few steps to a large door with a Gargoyle Knocker. Lifting the Knocker, she pounded it three times upon the door, feeling the vibrations through the ancient wood. She waited. Eventually, an old man came up to the door. He took one look at her attire, and bowed. "Welcome, madame. Come in, please. I will get someone for you immediately." She read his lips, and he hurried off. His expression seemed troubled by something or other. There was a mirror on the wall beside her, and Saoirse looked at herself. Her hair was a bit scraggy, and there was a streak of dirt on her left cheek. Then, she saw through the mirror that there was someone behind her dressed in officious robes. He was an elderly man, in his mid-fifties by appearances. He extended his hand in Magiran fashion, with the finger closed and the palm facing upward. She responded by placing her own palm upon his. "Greetings, Academician. To what do we owe the pleasure" She smiled, and turned her eyes away from him, gazing at a ring on her left hand index finger. It glowed bright yellow. The elder man was startled by this, but he betrayed only the barest flicker of reaction. 'Ambassador Talon?', the thoughts appeared in his mind. "Yes," her eyes gazed up at him, noting his reaction. 'Ambassador, I am Saoirse, Scholar of the Academy. I forgive this not speaking to you directlly, but you see, it is because I am -' "Stone deaf", he interrupted. She looked up a little startled now. "I remember you, all right. I was present at your final initiation, Saoirse. As I recall, the Council thought very highly of you." Saoirse smiled. Then her expression darkened. 'I have come here on a matter most urgent, Ambassador, that needs immediate aid' "What is it, child?" She signed to him reflexively, then, remembering that he couldn't read sign (at least, she assumed not), she returned to her ring. ' ... Magira is ... in the throes of Civil War' The Ambassador looked blankly at her for a second, then his eyes seemed to refocus with a sharp clarity. "Come with me, we must meet the Supreme Archmage immediately". He clapped his hands, and both vanished. Delalle sat in focused concentration in the meditation bath as the waters played over his body. How best to face the Council? he wondered. Should he tell them of his projected death? How would they react? Should he attempt to make Urcohea the Supreme Archmage? How much support did Thorn have? There was a sound like a sharp intake of breath, interrupting his thoughts. Delalle shot up out of the bath, grabbing a bathrobe and readying a spell. If now was the time, he wouldn't go down without a struggle. "Who is it?" The voice of Talon, the old retired Ambassador to Magira hailed through the oaken doors. "It is I, sir. We need to talk. Right now. On a matter most urgent indeed." "It can't wait?" "Absolutely not." Delalle emerged from the room, with his bathrobe all around him, a towel in his hair, and a pair of soft shoes that he liked to call slippers. He saw that the Ambassador had company. Of the female persuasion. And a Magiran scholar to boot. She looked a bit worn out. "Well, Talon, what seems to be the trouble ?" "You're not going to believe this, Delalle, trust me" It never rains, but it pours. Delalle began to feel a little put upon, as Saoirse began to describe the current Magiran situation. This was the third, fourth, or maybe even fifth major crisis in the current timethread. Even more upsetting was his premonition, an almost constant feeling now, that he would not get to see any of them through to their conclusion. He would have to delegate the responsibility. Talon was by far the best mage qualified to deal with any problem in Magira: the most experienced, and the most respected in Magira. If Urcohea was right, and Thorn was planning to make himself Supreme Archmage, Thorn would undoubtedly try to replace Talon with a mage who would serve his interests rather than that of Magira. Accordingly, Delalle reinstated Talon's status as Ambassador-in-Chief to Magira, got Rivy to mark him as such "for the rest of his natural life", and gave him total autonomy to act on behalf of the Guild there, responsible only to the full Council -- not to any particular Archmage or Department. It was the most he could do, but still he wondered if it was enough. Later on, Saoirse was in a room, which had been prepared for her so that she might sleep. She was worn out, and the Guild's leader had been quite trying. He'd had many questions, and looked very concerned indeed. Saoirse had told him all she knew, how the city had suddenly exploded in a shower of violence. Eventually, she went to bed, leaving Delalle and Talon talking late into the night about the day's events. The dreams came. "I am standing in the Great Hall of the Academy, amongst my fellow scholars. There is heated debate about a subject, but I am too wearied to try and sense all their thoughts at once. My eyes wander, and I notice that there are many magicians missing from the assembly today. Then I notice a disharmony that I cannot quite identify, but which is there. I see an image, and I am startled. "The image is that of a tall man, dressed in night-black robes. He is old, and I can feel his power is truly tremendous. He inspires a fear that I have not ever known before. Behind him stands a dark immeasurable force that is truly alien to my way of thinking, my perceptions. I cower in terror before him, seeking to escaping his awesome power. As I look from side to side, I see that there is a figure shrouded in darkness, with a bright, white, glowing sword. His face is Elven, but strangely bestial, and his grey clothes ragged. "I try to cry "Strike him!!", but I have no voice, and I never have had one. He looks undecided, unsure, terrified even, more of himself than of anybody. But I gaze upon him, and there is something about him that attracts me, despite his dark visage. "Then the dark robed one attacks, and I cower, but he grabs me, and.. I am back in the Hall of the Academy, where Pandemonium has broken loose. Magicians are attacking magicians! This is unthinkable. I flee, searching for the Council of Nine. What has happened in this city? She awoke trying to scream. She was breathing quickly, sharply, in a panicked state. Something grabbed her arm. Saoirse looked around in wild panic, a surge of power ready to blast away whatever it was. It was Talon. He looked worried. The energy of her spell faded, and she looked at his lips. "Dear Lady, forgive me, but we must hurry. This night, there has been reports of the fight in Magira spreading far and wide, causing untold troubles. The Guild is doing its best to keep Generica neutral." She nodded once, and got out of bed and dressed while Talon turned around, red-faced with embarassment. Then she tapped him on the shoulder. 'I am decent, Ambassador. We must leave quickly' "Um, yes. Please call me Talon." The two cast a spell of teleportation, and were gone suddenly. -- To those trying to get in touch with Mithrandir, do not email to the Address in the header. It is borrowed, cause my newsfeed has exploded. Email:tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie Thanks.