ooc: I am still here I am just pouting on the roof.

Angel

Angel had been prepared to refute the Arch Mages claims on her property but the report of how it was stolen made her feel disturbed. She already knew about the theft from the battlemage who had supported Carahil earlier. This theft did not sound like the work of Swims-On-Land. It simply was not the way Elgin would handle such a theft. The battlemage reported a death at the same time the artifact had been stolen. That was not Elgin either.

Someone else was entering the picture. It would be simpler to deal with if the Mages guild was not involved. "You are not going to tell me what to do. The Golden Egg is mine and so is the base; the key as you call it. It's original purchase and transfer of ownership to my father are recorded in the Imperial records. That is the requirement for all Dwemer artifacts. It is of no further concern to the Mage's Guild where the Egg or the base are now."

Having defied the Arch Mage, Angel was swept by a mood of reckless abandon. "I have discovered that I like being independent. I am leaving for Skingrad. If you wish, you may accompany me or have me followed. I don't really care what you do or what you say anymore." Half expecting to be attacked, Angel turned and headed for the Anvil main city gate.

Carahil

Standing and turning to the Arch Mage, Carahil said "She's more like her sister every day."

After a short time, Claudius rose and, after grabbing his possessions, headed out of the Guild just in time to see Angel walking towards the gate. Such haste is foolish. What will I do though? I must leave for Gardenhall immediatly, but I can't go without the girl or Berich will execute me for sure. Neither could I force the girl to go with me. I don't think I could force her to do anything, even if I wished to. This is turning out to be more trouble than it's worth...

He ran over towards Angel, and once he was close enough to speak to her, he asked, "Where exactly are you going? I must leave very soon, and I need to know what you have planned."

Belland had seen Angel leave the guild hall from the roof and hooped to his feet.
"Good day kind sir" Belland said to the unidentified figure, moments before leaping from the roof. However contrary to what the common observer would have classified a suicide Belland had already thought of a spell that would stop the impact and released his magic moments before he hit the earth. The magicka had not stopped the sudden thud however it did stop his ribs from turning to dust and every bone in his body from shattering. He momentarily considered running after Angel however he had some unfinished business. He opened the door to the hall and went inside. He saw the archmage and gave a salute and ran like he had never ran before. He wanted to rub some salt on the wound of having failed to kill him and thought that revealing himself to the arch-mage would act as a reminder that their where those above his power.

Back on the steps of the hall he shouted Angel's name and ran in the direction he had last seen her walking.

"Sorry you can't come along." Angel addressed Claudius. "I'm going to Skingrad. From there I don't know where but I'll try to leave word with Falanu Hlaalu at All Things Alchemical; that's the name of her store in Skingrad."

"Erandur, do you have a horse? I bought one of the whites from the stable when I first got here. I don't weigh very much so we could ride double but it's not very comfortable."

"Skingrad? How interesting. Ironic even. I'm sorry to say that I can't accompany you, but there is a small chance that I may be there when you arrive. If I'm not there, seek out a man named Caius Cassidius at the West Weald Inn. He will aid you in any way possible. He's a fellow member of my Order, and I'd trust him with my life. I'll make sure to notify him of your impending arrival," Claudius said. He wore a smile, but it was easy to tell that something was troubling him.

Before he left, he added in a somber tone, "I wouldn't trust anyone wearing the same clothes as the Nord you met earlier. You have attracted the attention of the Order now, and when there is something they want, very little will stop them from getting it. Be safe on your travels. I hope you find what it is you're looking for. Until we meet again would be the appropriate thing to say, right. Ah, whatever. Try not to get yourself killed."

With that said, Claudius pulled a small piece of parchment from his bag. It was the same paper he had written on before, and the lines still glowed. He muttered a few words, and it burst into flames. There was a bright red flash, and Claudius was gone. As the teleportation took place, he couldn't help but wonder if the girl realized what kind of impact she could have on the world. It wasn't until he arrived at his destination that he began to wonder how Berich would react to his failure.

Belland eventually caught up with Angel and her companions.
"Hello" he said dispassionately. "Where do you plan on going" he questioned, where ever she went he felt that the key would end up so it was in his best interest to know where she was.
Your being a sentimental fool a voice shouted in his subconscious.
I need to find the key he thought back.
Kill her and take it the voice grew louder repeating its grim chant, he felt his hand slide down to his blade before snapping himself out of his trance and put on a smile albeit an unconvincing one.

William decided to sit there for a few minutes, then decided to meet with his men. Once he reached them, he spotted Angel heading towards the main gate and decided to speak to her. "Lady Angel," he said with a bow, "my five men and I are ready to ride out with you. Where will we have to go for you?" as he said this he noted Erandur's prescense and chose to not look at him. It was embarasing enough being left behind, but making an enemy of his dead rival's brother was not on his to do list.

"And to you Erandur," he said after he mustered up his courage, "I just want to apologize for my statment before. You truly struck a chord with your comment, and it made me angry. I am truly sorry."

IC
"William," Angel said, "I am proud of you. It was very manly of you to say that. We are going to Skingrad to find out if my friends have the key or not."

"Belland, I'm so glad you decided to come along. I will feel safer knowing you are with us."

OOC
Erandur; just waiting on a response from you about whether you have a horse in order to hit the road. Go ahead and control Angel to the point of getting saddled up and on the road to Skingrad.

OOC: Well, here's Berich. I don't have the time to make a post of the length I want, so I'll do it tomorrow. He won't actually be doing much except talk for quite some time. Sorry about the length of the sheet and all. Okay, so admittedly, the age thing is a bit ridiculous, BUT, trust me when I say it will all make sense by the time you actually meet him.

Name: Berich

Race/Gender: Male Breton

Age: 1432 (Vampire Ancient)

Class: Grandmaster of the Order of the Blue Rose

Class Description: The Order of the Blue Rose, otherwise known as the Bluebirds, is a military organization that operates in total secrecy. They answer solely to the Chancellor, and even the Emperor does not know of their existence. They experiment with magicka, doing things that the Mages Guild would consider horrible, and might even make Necromancers uneasy. They have no morals or standards and will do whatever is necessary to accomplish their tasks. They frown on the Blades and Legion and consider themselves above the law.

Skills: Berich is a master of most forms of magic, including Necromancy and some forms that the Mage's Guild wouldn't dare experiment with, though he rarely demonstrates this, preferring for others to do tasks for him. He considers physical weapons to be beneath him, and while he may know how to use a weapon, he wouldn't demean himself by doing so.

Mental Description: Berich is very secretive, never allowing others to see what he's thinking or feeling. He always has a smile on his face, and the only way you could tell he's in a bad mood is because he has a slight twitch when he's angry. He is quite insane, though he manages to hide this fact fairly admirably, and only one that spends a lot of time around him could tell just how far gone he is.

Physical Description: Though he is a vampire, you could never tell by looking at him. He is 6'2'', appears to be of average weight, neither fat nor thin. He has long, black hair, which flows down over his shoulders and down to his chest. His skin is tanned and there isn't a scar on his body. Many women would probably consider him handsome if not for the eyes. His eyes are piercing, and are the color of blood. It is the only thing that would make someone think he is a vampire, but even so, there is something strange about them, as if he's staring right through you and knows something you don't. His own men have often expressed the opinion that his appearance is nothing but an Illusion spell, but no one dares to inquire what he actually looks like.

Height: 6'2"

Hair: Long, black hair that goes over his shoulder and down to his chest.

Eye Color: Blood red.

Clothing/Armor: He wears a long, blue, sleeveless trench coat, and under that, and dark green, silk shirt, and silk pants of the same color. He wears dark, blue suede shoes that match his coat.

Weapons: None.

Inventory: Two bags full of different seeds. A strange gem that gives off a blue glow, which is always with him, on a gold pendant around his neck.

Bio: To be revealed.

Companions: The Order is made up of four lieutenants, two head advisors, the Grandmaster, and dozens of people that operate different tasks. Many are often out in field missions, but at least a dozen can usualy be found at the compound.

The four lieutenants are:

Lieutenant Darnmon- This Dunmer is the leader of security and is the personal bodyguard of Berich. He is quite sadistic and enjoys causing pain and suffering, and wouldn't think twice of killing someone when ordered. His sword Alamund is strange, and when around him, it almost seems like it's calling out to be drawn.

Lieutenant Joran Were-Bane- This Nord is the head of intelligence, and is very perceptive, often noticing things others do not. Unlike most other members of the Order, he is loathe to kill and prefers non-lethel methods. Little is known of him or how he got his name, but Berich trusts him completely, and as soon as he arrived in the Order, he was made a Lieutenant. He can often be seen carrying a silver warhammer.

Lieutenant Malinus Ferus- This Imperial is head of education and training. He always seems be pessimistic, and looks down on the Legion, making others think he may have a past with them. While he rarely shows emotion, he is very proud of the members he trains, and is saddened every time a corpse is brought back. He's a bit of a drunk, much to the disgust of Berich, but he is one of the best trainers in the Empire, and is invaluable to the Order. He hates Darnmon for some reason.

Lieutenant Caius Cassidius- This Imperial is the head of field operations, and isn't usually at the compound. He is quite upbeat, always looking on the bright side of things, and he is the member with the strongest set of morals, despite the fact that he usually carries out Berich's plans. He is good friends with Malinus, and they are usually seen talking together on the rare occasion that Caius does not have a mission.

The two head advisors are:

Claudius Alidun- This Imperial is the head of research and development, and knows the most of Berich as a person, often guessing his plans before anyone else.

Rasien Arnoal- This high elf is extremely reclusive, and is very old, most likely near death. His position was never announced, and no one except for Berich knows what happens in the library where the Altmer makes his home. No one is allowed to see him without Berich's permission, and there are many rumors about what he might be doing.

"Hopefully she works on more of the good qualities." The Archmage replied, his face turning grim and only worsening as he saw someone walk past him, waving. His eyes narrowed.

"Clemmon!" Traven snapped, moving his hand back as if summoning. In response a mage approached; it was the man who had been mistaken by Angel and Claudius as the Archmage some time ago. Traven gave his instructions the moment the man arrived. "You are to join Angel on her trip to Skingrad and her travels thereafter. Keep an eye on that one, surely you recognize him and understand why. Do not actively engage against him, but keep an eye on his behavior. I don't trust him close to Angel. Send me word through Dreamsleeve whenever something of importance occurs."

"Shall be done, Arch-magister." Clemmon replied, and moved off to the growing group that would be traveling with Angel. He stopped, however, a few feet from them, hands behind him and gentle smile on his face; as if he were waiting his turn.

Traven watched with some satisfaction, but still unease clung at his heart. "She's so young... so variable." He said softly, looking to Carahil. "I fear she might be manipulated. Especially by that man, Belland. Nothing you say, or do, Carahil, will sway my opinions concerning his actions. If Angel will not allow me to protect the Egg, very well; I don't blame her after the theft of the Key. But precaution must still be taken."

His entire manner seemed to change, though, as he looked back at that group, then to Carahil again. "I hear the Count's Arms has a wonderful pork dinner special." Whatever business-like air he once had faded with a small smile.

OOC: I'll make a sheet for Clemmon soon.

IC
Carahil

"There's also a lovely fireplace where two old friends could share a bottle of wine after the meal and maybe even get to understand each other better." Carahil said; one hand fluttering as she patted loose strands of hair. Taking the Arch Mage's arm, the two strolled together toward the Inn.

Angel

The last time she had traveled this road was with Elgin and Falanu Hlaalu on foot. Now Angel reigned and nudged her horse into the roadway at a comfortable walk. She also remembered passages between Anvil and Skingrad, chased by mountain lions, wolves, bandits, and once, a bandit had followed her all the way up to the Skingrad city gates. The city guards had arrested her thinking she was one of the bandits. It had taken a long delay in the Skingrad castle to talk her way out of that one but she eventually left without a fine and with her reputation intact. Now she looked forward to the intrusion of a beast to give her an excuse. She would press her horse to a run; the two of them flying down an open road on their way to a new adventure.

Claudius calmly walked down the dark corridor towards the council room. A full meeting had been called, and everyone except for Caius would be in attendance. Indeed, it was lucky he had returned when he did. Missing such an important meeting would simply compound his other failures, making his ultimate punishment even worse.

When he finally reached the end of the torch lit hallway, he pushed open the ancient door and saw that everyone was already here, with the exception of Caius and Berich. They were all gathered around a large, oaken table, with similar chairs that were all the exact same size and shape. Supposedly, it was to signify that they were all equals, but everyone knew that Berich was superior to any of them. He took an empty seat next to Malinus and noted that none of them were arguing, something that happened at every meeting. They all had solemn expressions on their faces, and they all knew that Berich was not tolerant of failure.

They sat in silence for a few moments until the door opened again. None turned to see who it was, as it was obvious that Berich had arrived. He sat at the end of the table and looked everyone over, a broad smile on his face. His gaze rested on Claudius for a second, and then he exclaimed, "Claudius, how wonderful to see you! I'm glad that you could make it. This meeting is of the utmost importance."

Everyone, including Claudius, stared at him in shock. That had obviously not been what they were expecting him to say. They had expected a severe reprimand, a decree of punishment, or even the announcement of his execution, not a jovial greeting.

Darnmon was the first to recover. "So then. What exactly is so important that you could pull us all from our duties to attend this meeting? We never even had a moments notice!" he asked.

"I have called you all here to make a declaration. Thanks to the actions of Claudius and the research of Rasien, we have found what will allow us to make our dreams into a reality. We have found the child of legend. I am officialy mobilizing the full force of the Order for her apprehension. Furthermore, I have decided that we no longer require the Empire's protection. So, I have come to the conclusion that it is time to declare our independence. Once the child and the artifact is in our hands, we will finally be able to accomplish what we have strived for for the past thousand years. I have a task for each of you, and they must be completed quickly and efficiently to insure my plan's success. Are there any questions?" Berich said, a smile still on his face as he viewed the surprised faces of the council. For the second time that day, he had shocked them into silence.

OOC: I had a hard time with this part, and it didn't come out how I had intended, but I think it gets the point across all the same.

Here is Clemmon's sheet. If it is not acceptable, smack me.

Name: Alexander Clemmon
Nickname: Al, Alex
Gender: Male
Age: 65 (looks late forties, early fifties)
Race: Breton
Birthsign: The Ritual

Class: Battlemage
Class Description: Alexander is far more than any common Battlemage. At the age of 20, he was one of the last students of the now infamous Battlespire, war college and proving ground for the Battlemage legions of the Empire. Considered a War-Wizard, he actually relies less on his warrior skills, and more on his magic, but both are lethal attributes.
Skills: Blade, Light Armor, Alteration, Destruction, Mysticism, Conjuration, Block

Appearance: Alexander Clemmon does not look his age, as anyone will tell you. His youthfulness is not excessive, but it does cause him to be incorrectly identified or underestimated often. He has an overall kind, gentle, tolerant air to his presence, yet still holds onto an essence of authoritative, noteworthy might. He has been occasionally mistaken for Hannibal Traven, odd considering he looks younger than his Arch-mage. His face is rather smooth though developing faint wrinkles, and is strongly shaped.
Height: 5' 9"
Eyes: His eyes are a light brown, and glint with a combination of wisdom and confidence.
Skin: Healthily tanned, though beginning to show age in the occasional wrinkle.
Hair: His hair is his oldest quality, and even it looks good. A thin layering of flowing gray hair rings his bald-topped head, giving him a 'wise old monk' style. He has gray stubble on his chin.
Tattoos/Scars: He takes good care of himself, so while he has cut marks and burn scars, they are all rather faded and small, having healed over time.

Weapons: A silver broadsword, which hangs on his hip but he rarely resorts to using.
Armor: Beneath his robes hides a Mithril Chainmail tunic, which unlike the common cuirass does not come with shoulder plating. The sleeves come down to his elbows and the skirt halfway down his thigh. He also wears Mithril chain trousers and boiled, studded leather boots. Mithril plate bracers cover his forearms, but he does not wear gloves.
Clothes: Covering all of his armor is the standard Mage's Guild aqua robes, that fall to his ankles and come with a hood he rarely has up. However, these robes are triple layered, so thicker than the average mage's and give just a margin more protection from the weather and attacks. When not in armor, he wears his second set of mage robes, also triple layered.
Inventory: Around his neck is an amulet, typically hidden under his robes, that is enchanted with a Dispel. One each hand is a golden ring; one is his wedding ring, the other is enchanted with a healing spell. On his belt, he carries trail food, a map, and money. Tied by simple knots are two bottles of magicka restoration potion, which he rarely uses.

Misc: -Has an affinity for Frost magic, though adept in the other destruction spells as well.
-Unlike colleagues, he felt mysticism was more important than conjuration, so he more often uses Mysticism than summoning.
-Stemming from his advanced training and trials in the Battlespire, he is capable of spellcraft in his specialty schools that most mages would not fathom, let alone understand how to perform.
-His combative abilities are waning in his age, though his constant training to keep himself fit holds them steady. His magical prowess, like most magicians, seems to only grow as he ages.
-Does not hold grudge against the Necromancers, except those select few who abuse their power and end multitudes of lives. His vendetta lies with Daedra worshipers.

Spells: Master spells in the schools of Alteration and Destruction, and Expert-level spells in Mysticism with Journeyman level Conjuration magicks.

Mental: Alexander is as he looks; tolerant, gentle, honorable and noble. Even in battle he maintains his poise and calmness, though inside he may be seething with anger. That anger is usually released afterward in likely unhealthy ways. He puts his duty before himself like a true soldier, but will not fret to use unorthodox methods if it gets the job done, and keeps him alive.

He quickly befriends those who don't take insult to his humors, ways, or views, and remains loyal to them; unless those loyalties conflict with his duties. Even then, he will seek to look out for his friends, however.

Keen of eye, swift of deduction and thought, and confident of his skills, he makes a good comrade and an enemy not to take lightly.

Bio: Born to the nobility of the Kingdom Wayrest, he was quickly instated into the tutelage of the court mage, who recognized a potential in the boy. Eager to learn and quick to grasp the concepts, he seemed destined to be a mage of high caliber.

His interests changed, however, when an outlaw on the run had come to their estate. A Battlemage of the Imperial Legion was tracking the dangerous convict down, and from the roof of his manor Alexander watched the battle that had ensued, fascinated by the mix of steel and spell the Battlemage used. As soon as he was able, he enlisted in the Legion, seeking to become a battlemage.

No one is certain, but scholars guess Alexander left six months before Mehrunes Dagon attacked the Battlespire, the exact date of the invasion uncertain. After his graduation he married one of his pupils, Sameri, and fathered a son and a daughter. He is one of under a hundred still living alumni of the Imperial College of War, Battlespire.

IC: As Angel set her horse to a walk, Clemmon meandered himself over to her side, walking along with the horse at an even, steady stride. He cleared his throat before speaking to grab her attention.

"Lady Angel... we have met before under false pretense; you believed me to be the Arch-magister, a mistake commonly made." He explained with a smile. "I am Alexander Clemmon. I have instruction from Traven to accompany you, to keep you safe. And to ensure the artifact in your possession, remains in your possession, a desire you made plain to him. I pray I am accepted without malice?"

OOC A little Easter egg. Whoever discovers her first getw to carry her to Skingrad

IC
Angel reigned in her horse and dismounted. The sickness that had overtaken her in the halls of her fathers mansion's, now fired by her freedom, drove her to Belland's side.

"we are alike more than you know. We burn, together."

Angel's senses reeled as power flowed through her. The Egg called to her and she whirled in a dance of desire and frustration in the dust and dirt of the road to Skingrad. A dance of innocent yearnings; A dance of advlt desire, a dance of insanity.

As the energy waned and her senses returned, she looked around her; a lost child in an unforgiving land; the conflicts resolved as the child of prophesy collapsed in a dust covered heap on the road to Skingrad.

OOC: well.... I would... but my character just got ignored, and I can't figure out what in the name of Akatosh just occurred, so can't really reply to the situation either.

OOC
Profoundly apologetic. I claim temporary non-compus-mentus and confess I skimmed your sheet and missed the IC at the end. Blame it on my A.D.D . Also I've been accused in the past of being human. Secretly, I hope it's true but publicly I deny all responsibility and demand a lawyer.

Please assume a favorable response from Angel who still bears memories of better times with the Arch Mage.

ooc: computer broken have enough problems keeping up with current game of werewolves so my posts will be seldom for awhile.

OOC: Just got my computer back, sorry.

"I'll walk." he said, walking on. It had seemed that he blacked out in the confusion. "Oh, and Will. Apology excepted." he grinned. "Didn't mean to make you mad."

"Hello Clement. My name's Erandur. Erandur Vlotarus. Pleasure to meet you."

Alexander watched angel for a moment before she disappeared in a flash of light, at which point he raised an eyebrow and turned to Erandur.

"It's Clemmon. Clem-on. My first name is Alexander. Just call me that." He said nonchalantly before thumbing towards the spot of Angel's disappearance. "Does this happen often?"

OOC: Best way I could think of us losing her. :shrug:

IC: The ground around him was no longer the same rocky, uneven texture it once was. Now, it was interrupted by carvings into the hard earth, etched lines as thin as a knife blade and forming a circle. Within this circle border more lines had been etched, forming shapes of common symbology and some more abstract and unusual. A moon, a star opposite, a square with two triangles drawn within to form a six-point star, a triangle with a square within drawn opposite. But in the center, and in the concentric rings that connected the four outer symbols, there were shapes vaguely resembling skulls, birds, and human forms. In the center of the carved circle, in the center of one skull-shape, sat the Key, a thrumming container of magic.

Siras stood at the very edge of this circle, his ivory Kris in his hand and ground bonemeal in the other. He muttered something incoherent to the uneducated, an eerie ethereal light spreading from his hand and engulfing the bonemeal. Walking around the circle, he lightly spread this magically imbued substance, continuing the incantation as he did so. The bonemeal that collected in the groves on the ground flared brighter, and when he completed his move about the circle he turned to face it. His expression was, as always, a passive seriousness.

The light filled the cavern room as his unholy words grew stronger and louder, and he brought his left hand up over the edge of the arcane circle. The wicked blade slid across his flesh without hesitation, blood seeping from his squeezed palm to drip upon the symbol and sizzle. He forcefully threw his hand out towards the Key, droplets of blood flung into the air, and proclaimed a word in a foreign tongue, activating his ritual spell.

OOC: I'm going to leave exactly what the spell was a mystery, as it was actually an experimental ritual devised by Siras himself from rituals he researched, therefore not something any character would easily unveil or comprehend.

OOC
Nice spell. Angel definitely still has a lot to learn :goodjob:

So; Will someone rescue her or does she have to recover on her own?

OOC: FInally an IC post from nilloc sorry it is short running out of time before being dragged away by library staff...

IC:
"I am not sure I understand" belland questioned. He had understood the words but not what angel meant by them however he was tense the option of drawing his sword and taking the blunt method of retrieving the artifact was becoming more and more tempting. Instinctively he pulled harder on the reigns trying to focus, he stared blankly for several moments then turned back to Angel. For the first time in a long while a look of pain was on his face, not the physical pain but the gut wrenching feeling at realizing how far he had fallen.
"No" he said louder than before, "You truly do not comprehend how different we are"

OOC: Gah, still I'm having a hard time! I just don't know why, but nothing I type here seems to come out like I want it to. Oh well. I'm sure I'll get back to normal soon enough.

The council was still too stunned to speak as Berich began handing out orders. "The Chancellor does not yet know of my decision, so you must stay in the shadows for this operation. Malinus, you will seek out the artifact and secure it. Take two light squads with you, but let no one know how important this is. These words will not leave this room. Joran, you will handpick three men and head to the Imperial City. There are two members of the Elder Council there that are getting too curious for their own good. I think you know who I am referring to. Silence them. Rasien, you will find the nearest village of creatures and purge it. We will need the souls to power the stone. Claudius, you will take Manus and Alister and secure the child. Take whatever means necessary to insure her capture," Berich explained, looking towards each man as he spoke.

The addressed council members rose and left without a word, but Darnmon stayed in his seat. "And what of me. What task will you have me perform. And why give Claudius the task of securing the girl. He can't be trusted after his latest performance. If you would simply give me the order, I could have him dead and the girl here begging for-"

Darnmon never finished what he had been planning to say. One look was all it took to make him stop. Berich began to speak again, his voice steady and a smile still on his face, though his eyes were focused solely on the Dunmer, making him sweat in his seat. "I gave him the task because I know he won't accomplish it. He is too soft. He could never bring himself to hurt a child, unlike you. He will not capture her. Instead, he will convince her to come here willingly. And this is your task. You will follow him, taking with you three dozen men of your choice. Should he fail, and I doubt he will, then you will capture them both. Kill anyone who interferes, but insure that no harm comes to either of them. And again, you will do this ONLY if he fails. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes Lord Berich, I understand perfectly," Darnmon said as he quickly rose from his seat and headed for the door. But before he could leave, the voice spoke again.

"And Darnmon, if you ever threaten another member of this council in front of me again, I will have your tongue cut out," Berich said, his voice now having a tone to match his smile.

The seizures had stopped so long ago Angel had forgotten them. It was the stress of worrying about Carahil and the unpleasant confrontation with the Arch Mage that had triggered this one. She realized belatedly that it had been too long since she used her meditation techniques to center her mental and spiritual being. Now, more than ever. she would need the stability of mind and spirit to get through each day.

"I'm sorry Belland." She said simply. "Sometimes too much stress can make me act a little strangely."

"Alexander, I am grateful to the Arch Mage for his concern and I welcome your company. It is my intention to visit someone in Skingrad who may know more about the theft of the key from the University. Then again; he may not."

Mounting her horse once again, Angel nudged him into an easy pace; headed in the direction of Skingrad.

"So who is this contact" belland asked interested at the concept of a spy inside the university. He had ocasionaly bribed an insider but someone who could supply information would be useful. His sources had varied from apprentices to black mailed evokers but their services usually cost him a small fortune in spies or bribes to get his information.