Orthan

My vision was filled with pain as I slowly became conscious once more. I could hear a slow drip and the air was filled with the scent of mud after rain. Dry blood and sweat soaked into my shawl as I tried to focus on my predicament again. I let out a groan as I sat up and pressed my hand onto my wound. I felt a trail of dry blood running along my arm and staining the floor beneath me. Once again, the darkness surrounded me, trapping me in a strange place with impossible bindings. I peered around as I tried to find a glimmer of escape. My stomach sank as a gruff voice spoke from the darkness. "Do not bother. Your prison is enchanted. Only magic can undo the bindings."

I scanned the darkness as I tried to find the source of the voice. "No prison can hold an orc." I retorted. "Even enchanted bindings will break if the gods will it."

A deep chuckle echoed around what must surely be some form of cavern. I shakily got to my feet as I began turning on the spot, searching for the mysterious speaker. His voice was oddly familiar. "And what makes an orc? Is it your garments? Your weapons? What of your skin? And your tusks? If one could learn to recreate them, then they have no true significance. Even your mannerisms could be mimicked with enough repetition." A light suddenly flickered into existence behind me and I turned towards the source. My eyes grew wide and my stomach dropped as I saw the image before me. An orc with a smile running ear to ear was standing before me, cradling a small elven candle in his hand. His fingers were massive in comparison to the stick of wax. He was dressed in a large brown shawl and long loincloth. His wrists were bound in crude leather bracers that did little to contain the hair beneath them. I blinked in surprise as I sense a familiarity in his features. His dark hair was like my own, matted and resistant to any form of order. His eyes held a glint of green between the brown and his tusks tilted together slightly, much like my own.

I banished my confusion and let out a scowl as I glared at the stranger. "Traitor!" I barked. "You would ally with the slavers? They will betray you as soon as they are finished with you."

Strangely, the stranger began cackling in a familiar manner and my anger turned to shock as I stared at him. "Convincing, is it not?" He asked. He began rubbing his face as he spoke, eyes gazing off and fingers paying close attention to the teeth protruding from his lips. "The mage-slave was most skilled at potion-making before he was taken. He obeyed our orders beyond expectation. This form will be most excellent when we enter your capital." His eyes suddenly flicked to me and I flinched at his intense gaze. "They cannot hide the outsiders forever. Almar will have his pets returned."

I scowled at the stranger as I began to understand what had occurred. "How have you done this?" I asked. "How do you bear the form of an orc?"

The elf-orc smiled as he turned his head, revealing his slightly pointier ears. "Why, my simple savage, by your generosity. Why else would we require ichor from the likes of you?"

I looked down at my blood-stained arm as the realization dawned on me. "You plan to infiltrate the city." I gasped.

The elf-orc grinned wide as he turned back to me. "You are cleverer than the others, I give you that. Sadly, that does nothing for you here. We came to find the outsiders and we intend to return with them, living or dead. Nothing your city has can hope to stop that."

I sneered at him as he mentioned the outsiders. "You would be hard-pressed to find them. My father knows the chief. He would never leave the outsiders unguarded. He does not trust them enough for that."

Despite this retort, the elf-orc's face grew wider. "Then he would be kept in the prison. Your city has few places more secure and I doubt your chief would allow him to remain within the Hall." He then turned again and shouted at the darkness. "How go the remaining potions? Did the blood-dagger collect enough?"

I turned to the blackness as a new voice answered back, this one distinctively elven. "The stone has grown clear. We require more ichor to complete the transformations."

The first elf-orc grinned as he pulled his hand away from the candle he was holding and allowed the flame to cast its dim light about the cavern. The other elves had evidently been sitting there, lurking just beyond my vision. A few of them were clustered around a rudimentary surface, a slab of stone that appeared to be pulled from the cave wall at stomach height. Though for them it was perfect for a table. Other elves with the form of an orc were sprinkled about the cavern, redressing themselves to suit the body they now had. I turned back to the first elf-orc and glared at him. "You shall fail in your endeavors. My kind is not to be underestimated. You Will Face Their Wrath, My Wrath."

The elf-orc's lip curled upward in a sneer as he stared at me. "That lives to be seen. . . For now, " He suddenly snapped his fingers at the elves surrounding the surface. "Slave, fetch more ichor." I turned as the robed elf shuffled out from the group, eyes blank and expressionless. His gait was unchanged from when he first plunged the dagger into me. I brought my hands close to my chest and widened my stance as I prepared for what was to come.

Dexter

The next day passed by slowly. Brokil, Salthu, and Gremach had spent some time looking for someone willing to part with a bit of land. A bunch of other barns were on the cusp of our price range but were far outside our beacon range. Anything that was just inside our beacon range was somehow a lot more expensive than what the Institute was giving us. Prospects for buying a new place weren't bright. Nothing else interesting happened until my defacto-guild was trudging towards the barn.

The others were chatting between each other as I let my eyes grow unfocused and I mused on the listings we had found. I was doing my best to estimate how long we'd have to save up before we could finally afford any of the places. "Another month at least, that is if the boost to our allowance was as substantial as we thought. The Archive discovery has to be worth that much. If not, we might have to sell some of the artifacts. Kind of hesitant on selling a lot of them though. They have a technique of magic the city hasn't seen before. I want to help them, but I also don't want to risk giving away something crucial we didn't notice before. The manastones would be fine. They've had centuries to charge up and it's nothing new to them, even if they are still subpar quality."

I looked up as I noticed we were rounding the last turn to the barn. My eyes widened as I saw a familiar cylinder hanging from the hook next to the door. I heard the others suddenly stop as we all noticed the message dangling there. I started jogging as I felt my heart pounding from nervousness. I slowed to a halt and grabbed the roll, feeling a strange weight to it. I held it gingerly as I examined the exterior. It was designed exactly like the cylinder that had first appeared outside the door, swirling emblem and all. I turned back to the others as I let out a shaky breath. "We have an answer." I practically gasped.

Amelia rushed up and looked down at the capsule in my hand. "What do you think it's going to say?" She asked.

I tilted the length of wood back and forth slightly as I tried to compare it to the weight I'd felt so long ago. "It's hard to tell." I admitted. "We won't know until we open it." I looked up at the others as I let out another breath and forced myself to calm down. "Let's head inside. We can discuss his answer in here." They nodded and I turned to enter the barn as my heart continued pounding in my chest. "Why am I so nervous? It's just a letter. This is the difference between a lot of headache from traveling miles every day and a very convenient guild location. Plus, it can tell me how much Dubak trusts me." I shook my head slightly as I sat in the office chair and continued to stare at the roll, leg bouncing nervously as I did so. "Just open it. There's only one way to know the answer." I let out a slow breath as I brought a hand up, gripped the end of the capsule, and pulled.

Bulak

My arms stung as I ascended the stairs to my abode. The sounds of my footsteps echoed up the spiraling staircase. I was returning from a day of training, practice in anticipation of this year's harvest festival. I was determined to triumph in the Losh tournament this year, even if my inexperience was a disadvantage. I stretched my fingers and felt the soreness dissipate momentarily, joints aching from the momentary stress. "I must learn to last longer. The skills amongst the tournament are so closely match that it often becomes a battle of attrition. Training with Dexter gave me a good goal to reach in terms of endurance, but it is still a lofty goal." I looked up as I suddenly saw my father round the corner. His face was contorted in thought and he did not realize my presence before I made myself known. "Good afternoon, father." I said sheepishly, pausing on the step.

He looked up in surprise and his eyes lit up as they laid upon me. "Good afternoon, Bulak." He said cheerily, stopping just in front of me. There was plenty of room on the steps to pass me, but it seemed father wished to discuss for a moment. "I hope you are well."

I nodded as I lifted my arm and rubbed it. "A little tender, but otherwise invigorated." I answered. "And you?"

My father let out a sigh as he lifted his hand and rubbed his hair flecked chin. "I am pondering a recent decision of mine. Nothing you need concern yourself with. I am merely questioning my own judgment."

I tilted my head slightly as I looked into his deep brown eyes. "Do you believe you were mistaken in your choice?" I asked him.

My father let out another sigh as he pondered for a moment. "I am uncertain." He finally admitted. "This matter is complicated and there may be consequences I have not considered. However, I have often erred on the side of caution and this is no exception. As I said, you need not be concerned with this matter. I have made my decision."

I nodded as I gave him a reassuring grin. "And I am certain it was the right decision." I affirmed.

He nodded as his eyes grew unfocused and he sank deep into thought again. "Perhaps." He mused.

I nodded as I deftly moved past him and continued ascending the steps. "I had better leave you to your thoughts then." My father nodded as he looked up and watched me depart.

I took a few steps before I abruptly stopped as my father suddenly asked me a question. "Do you trust the outsiders?" The question rang up the steps as I slowly turned back down the stairs.

I paused for a second before daring to answer. "Do you speak of them as a pair, or of them as a whole?" I asked.

Father paused for a moment before answering. "Them as individuals." He finally replied. "How much do you trust each outsider? You have sparred with them. Surely you were able to learn something from it."

I paused as I considered for a moment. Their approach to combat was so vastly different. Dexter preferred to keep a consistent string of attacks and not allowing his opponent to slow down, wearing him down over time. It was an astute means of using his strengths. Overwhelming an opponent through sheer force of strength was nothing new but forcing your opponent to drain themselves was an intriguing tactic. He was effective too, dodging or deflecting most blows that came his way. But he was physically weak and more susceptible to damage than a normal orc. Amelia, on the other hand, was more precise, overwhelmingly receptive to my lessons on Losh combat. She would likely be able to master the art quite quickly. Though she is even weaker than Dexter. Even with Losh training, she'd be hard-pressed to be effective in combat. Though I suppose her aptitude for magic will allow her to make up for that.

I finally let out a thoughtful sigh as I looked at father. "What Dexter voiced when you first encountered him is true. He is nothing like . . . Him. His convictions are iron clad and I have no doubt he can be trusted. I believe Amelia is also to be trusted. She suffered beneath the same elf that has been a thorn in your side. I am certain both would wish to eliminate this thorn as swiftly as possible. Their actions appear to be building towards that exact goal, perhaps even Adympia as a whole. Though I am wary as to whether or not they will succeed in that lofty endeavor."

My father nodded as he heard my answer. "Most thorough. You have taken your tactical lessons to heart."

I grinned softly and nodded as I felt a sense of pride welling up within me. My face fell as I realized why he may be asking me. "Maybe I inquire why you asked?" I probed softly. "Do you not trust the outsiders?"

My father was silent as he seemed to ponder his next words. "Enjoy your evening." He finally answered. "I hope you are correct about the outsiders. It would be unfortunate if you are mistaken." My face fell as my father turned and continued descending the steps, leaving me to the silence of my own thoughts.

Dexter

My leg bounced rapidly as I pulled off the stopper and slid the contents onto the table. There were a total of two rolls in the capsule. Both had a familiar S symbol stamped onto them, one using green wax the other using blue. Curiously, they were addressed to different people. The one with green wax had ‘The Guild' written on the back while the one using blue wax had ‘Garahk' written on it. I stared at the pair of messages in confusion as my leg suddenly stopped bouncing. "The hell?" I exclaimed.

The others were giving the parchment equally confused looks. Dumag picked up the blue stamped scroll and examined it. "What manner of trickery is this? I thought our Chief would be more straightforward than this. Why would be present us with two scrolls?"

I picked up the other one and examined it, flipping it over in my hand to read the words and examine the stamp. Upon further inspection, I could see the wax emblem was slightly different from the one I had seen two months ago. There were a few more decorative strokes within and surrounding the S. Now that I had a closer look at it, the stamp itself seemed to be bigger. I ran my hand along the wax as I noticed flecks of gold within the green. The writing on the back was drawn using intricate calligraphy that would make most modern writers jealous. Yet it didn't detract from or muddle the final declaration written there. "The Guild." I mused curiously.

Bruga stood beside Dumag as he examined the words on the other bundle of parchment. "Why would the chief present us with a message for Garahk?" She asked curiously.

I flipped the scroll back over and ran my thumb over the wax seal as I considered. "Maybe this will give us some answers, it is technically addressed to us." They all turned my way as I pushed my way into the seam of the scroll and broke the wax seal. Everyone waited with bated breath as I unfurled the message, cleared my throat, and began reading aloud.

Dexter, Champion of the Butterfly,

I hope this message finds you in good spirits. I am impressed and intrigued by the initiative you have displayed. I have heard your discovery of the Archive has greatly benefited the Institute. You have also been said to show great promise during your lessons there, though you are still behind on your tasks. Most would be content enough to rest after such an achievement. However, you appear to lack that contentment and wish to create a guild for the denizens of Snakhagr. I have considered your request most thoroughly and have pondered each aspect of my decisions. You have shown resolve, honor, courage, and ingenuity, traits most suited for a guild leader. However, you have also shown insolence, immaturity, recklessness, and a general disregard for traditions.

I winced as I read the last sentence.

This has left me with uncertainty as to your next actions, something I find unacceptable for a common soldier, let alone one that has earned the title of Champion. This has left me with the dilemma of deciding whether to reward or punish this behavior. My support for your title was one matter. Your actions during the battle were unequivocally due for a reward, despite your insolence initially. However, your following actions created tension and turmoil within Snakhagr that I wish to appease. There are those that still despise your presence and presentation of a title. Nevertheless, my ponderings have produced a solution to this dilemma.

My brow furrowed as I read the last part of the letter.

Enclosed with this response is a message to Garahk. Please complete the forms you have been using and present it directly to her with the message. She will know what to do once she reads what is written. I hope the future shines favorably upon you and bring fortune in your endeavors.

Good tidings,

Dubak Farod

Chief of Gashur

The room fell silent as I finished reading. Everyone seemed just as confused about his response as I was. Dumag stared down at the scroll in his hand in disbelief. "What manner of trickery is this? That did not enlighten us in the slightest. How does he expect us to create a guild if we do not possess ownership of our guild house?"

My index finger tapped thoughtfully on the back of the letter before I turned it over to check that nothing else was there. There wasn't, besides the upside-down letters that I'd seen from the outside. sigh "I have no fucking clue. Out of all the ways he could have answered, this is probably the worst of them. . . . I don't even know what to do about this. This just asked more questions without giving me any answers." Amelia stepped beside me and began reading from the parchment in my hand. I handed it to her before beginning to pace around the barn. "The forms are almost done, but we still need proof of ownership to submit it. This was supposed to tell us if we have permission. Without it . . ." I let out a sigh and rubbed my face. " . . . The only thing we got from this is that message, which he was careful to avoid saying anything about it. . . . What would he even need to tell Garahk? Why would he want us to give her the message?"

Salthu let out a sigh as he rubbed his head. "Perhaps we have overlooked something. Has Dexter misread the letter?"

Everyone turned to Amelia as she continued to read the letter. Her eyes glided over the parchment and her mouth moved as she read. She finally let out a sigh before pressing her fingers to her lips thoughtfully. "It doesn't look like it." She finally admitted, bringing her hand down and running it along the page. "The wording is interesting though. He really gave this some thought. . . . Give me a minute."

I let out a sigh as I rubbed my head and mused over the letter. "What the fuck are we supposed to do?" I muttered. I couldn't recall the wording verbatim, but I could remember the general idea of it. "Good qualities and bad qualities. Reward vs punishment. No answer and instructions for a message. . . . What does the message say?" I turned to Dumag and the scroll in his hand. My mind started toying with the idea of finding out what was inside, using conventional and magical means. I bit my lip as I stifled the thoughts. "You don't know enough. There could be a number of enchantments and countermeasures that you don't know about. Plus, there's the physical integrity of the wax. You're not informed enough on how the wax binds to parchment. It might be impossible to undo the seal without breaking or melting it and you sure as hell shouldn't start trying to forge a fucking Chief's seal. . . . . Wait what if this is a-"

"I think this is a test." Amelia suddenly blurted out. Everyone turned to her as her eyes glided over the page. She looked up at me with an amazed expression. "Dubak is testing you. This is an exact scenario you've put him in, lacking information and relying on your word for the future. How else would he make you understand?"

My head tilted back slightly in realization and I let out an annoyed sigh. "Motherfucker, that's it." I exclaimed. "Of course that's what he would do. . . . Then again, it's a smart plan."

Amelia nodded in affirmation as she looked down at the letter again. "He chose his words carefully, making sure not to give anything away about his actual response. The only things we have to go on are his instructions and the message, the latter of which is not for us."

I nodded as I stifled my annoyance and considered our predicament. "But we can't submit incomplete forms, even with a message to Garahk. We need to know what to give the Institute, what to say our guild location is. Hell, I'm not even sure we should be giving this stack to Garahk. There's got to be an official process for this."

Amelia shook her head as she reread the letter again. "I think that's part of the test. He wants you to trust him enough to follow his instructions. He probably gave you the bare minimum to know what his answer was. We just have to find it."

I felt my annoyance rise again and I forced myself to let out a calming sigh before speaking. "So where is the information? We read the same letter. As you said, he was very careful with his wording. There's nothing in there that'll tell give us his answer."

Amelia nodded as she continued to gaze at the parchment. She seemed to think for a minute then suddenly flipped letter over and looked at the back, running her fingers along the letters emblazoned there. "I think I know what to do." She quietly muttered.

Garahk

My fingers danced gracefully over a length of wood, flakes gradually peeling off of their own accord and disposing themselves into a small bucket I had beside it on the table. The deep light of my study helped me focus my mind on the staff before me, a near replica of my own but with a few improvements from the years since I made my own. Instead of the sheer tower of wood, I had an array of divots to help the user grasp it. Instead of the messy mass holding my own focus, I had a deliberate socket in mind. I was using magic to ensure a precise outcome instead of the awkward fumbling I had been required to hand carve. I dipped my fingers into the wooden gem socket I had managed to create at the head of the staff as flakes continued to peel away from the item. I had consulted Sherkul on how best to shape it for the new gemstone I had created using the ‘autoclaves'. He recommended a cage-like binding best suited for holding spherical items. With magic, I was able to take certain liberties, but I would still need to create a snug fit if I wished for it to be effective in battle.

I began dancing my fingers back along the shaft of the staff when a loud knock suddenly emanated from the far door. The staff fell to the table with a clatter as my concentration was momentarily broken. I let out a sigh before calling out to the guest. "Who Goes There?"

The muffled voice of the outsider replied through the door. "It's me, Dexter. I have something for you." I scowled slightly before hobbling towards the door, staff clacking along as I went.

I pulled open the door and was greeted by the outsider's towering figure. His mouth curved up for a moment in a form of greeting. "I was told to give these to you." He said as he held up a stack of parchment.

I looked at them skeptically. "And who, might I ask, told you that?"

The outsider's head tilted towards the satchel on his back as he replied. "Dubak, ma'am. I also have a message he wanted me to give you along with these."

I nodded as I ran a thumb up the stack of parchment. I recognized the forms for guild registration all too well. I looked up at the outsider curiously and he gave me the same grin, only this time I saw a hint of apology behind the expression. "Why would I need to be presented with this? The Institute has a proper registration process. I cannot be bothered with every group that wishes to create a guild."

The outsider nodded apologetically. "Yes, I know about that, but Dubak gave me explicit instructions to give these to you once I finish them. The message for you probably explains everything."

I tilted my head to gaze at the satchel he had strapped to his back. Outsiders had such curious creations. "What is this message?" I asked.

The outsider shrugged apologetically. "I don't know. It has your name on it though, and a seal so I'm guessing it's only meant for you."

I took pause as I considered the circumstances. I finally relented as I gestured him inside. "Come then. Set those on the table over there. I shall read his message and do what I must."

The outsider nodded as he stepped into my study and moved toward the empty table I had indicated. He looked around curiously, much like a child in a marketplace. His attention was drawn to my half-finished creation on the far table. "What have you got going on there?" He asked, leaning slightly as he set the pile of parchment down with a thud.

I gestured to the staff as I moved towards it. "A long overdue improvement on my own armaments. Your curious creation has given me the perfect opportunity to create something better than the original, an opportunity that I hope you will be able to repeat in the future."

The outsider shrugged as he stretched, causing soft pops to emanate from his body. "If I knew more about chemical reactions I could. I think there's a way to turn sand into quartz, but I don't know enough. Plus, it would likely require chemicals and processes that I have no idea how or why they work. Damion would, but he's not here. So, as far as increasing crystal quality, the autoclave is about as far as I can go."

I nodded thoughtfully as I walked up to the outsider. "It will do for now. Now then, hand the message over. I must see what excuse Dubak has cooked up."

The outsider nodded as he released one of his arms from the strap and began pulling at his bag. It looked like he had performed this action on the satchel on countless occasions. The material opened smoothly with an audible rumble, allowing him ingress where none had existed before. I tapped my finger thoughtfully as I considered how I could go about replicating what allowed him to perform this action. "Here it is." He suddenly exclaimed, pulling a roll of parchment from his bag. He performed a quick motion and the tear disappeared as quickly as it had materialized with a second quick rumble. He then returned his bag to his back and held out the message for me to take. His arm appeared to tremble in nervousness. "I hope you don't mind all this. I'm just following Dubak's instructions."

I shook my head as I gazed at the seal, blue to indicate a deeply private matter. I took it from his grasp, parchment letting out an audible crinkle as he relinquished the message. "I will not if he gives me a good reason. . . Now then, run along. I am sure you have classes to attend still."

The outsider nodded hesitantly before shuffling back towards the door. He turned and gave an equally trembling wave goodbye before closing the door behind him. "Good luck with your new staff." His voice called as he disappeared from my sight. I stood in the softly glowing mage lights as I considered the possible contents of Dubak's message. Any number of excuses could have been within. He was well known amongst the council for his art of speech. If he so wished, he could convince a bear to relinquish one of his claws. I let out a sigh as I reached up and broke the blue seal. "No use delaying it. Let us see his reasons for this." I slowly unfurled the scroll and began reading, his calligraphy as precise as ever.

Garahk, Elder Mother,

I hope this message finds you in good health. If all goes according to plan, you will be reading this within the comfort of your study. The outsider will have given you a stack of parchment with an air of nervousness I have yet to witness. I apologize for not informing you directly, but I do not believe it would have been as effective were you aware of my intentions. The outsider has been a product of concern as of recent. His mere presence angers many and his actions do not quell this anger. Were he another common soldier, I would have him reprimanded in accordance with his misdeeds. However, since he has not breached a decree nor is an ordinary fighter, I must find more creative ways to ensure he keeps in line.

I levitated a chair over and sat in it as I continued to read, brow furrowing in intrigue.

He has requested permission to utilize his makeshift abode for a guild. I found it most curious that he did not request a more fitting accommodation, one that would be worthy of the Champion he has become. Perhaps though, his visions extend farther than anticipated. He may intend to mold the meager stables into a most prestigious guild, regardless of its exterior appearance. In any regard, I am officially giving him permission to do so. He may utilize and modify his stables as he sees fit. However, I do not wish him to know this directly. I wish to make my point more apparent. I ask that you delay the results of their application, three days should be adequate. I would also like you to create an addendum to their guildship announcement, one that will ensure their guild as a whole does not run wild within the city. Announce that the chief has given them permission to operate under special conditions. Since they have established themselves much closer to civilians than the others, they will be required to take care when performing experimentations of any variety. I will not tolerate undue harm to the residents of Snakhagr.

I smirked as I lent back and cradled my staff gently.

I do not anticipate the outsider bringing harm to the city, but this shall appease those that are concerned. If I cannot demonstrate control over my own soldiers, then I am no chief. Once more, I apologize for any inconvenience this may bring. I ask that you express leniency towards me in this regard and complete the registration as I have requested. I look forward to your next contribution to the great tribe of Gashur.

Good tidings,

Dubak Farod

Chief of Gashur

I let out a content sigh as I leaned back. The interruption had been inconvenient, but most alleviating as to how the outsider would conduct himself. "This would certainly ensure he acted in accordance with his duties. It could also stifle the resentment many would certainly feel at this development. Anyone rising in the ranks this quickly would certainly spawn jealousy, but his outsider nature meant the jealousy was more akin to resentment. This solution is far from perfect, but it would suffice for the moment, at least until the outsiders could prove themselves to all of Gashur. . . His ambitions for a united tribe just might accomplish that." I shook my head slightly as I rose from the chair and returned to my task. The papers could wait. Dubak had given me a grace period of three days.

I ran my hand along the rugged handle of the staff. It was almost complete. One last addition would make my gift ready. I reached over to a nearby box and pulled out a pure black gemstone, my hand straining slightly to contain the large rock. The telltale hole of the outsider's crystal method was only concealed by the dim room and coal-black color of the stone. I set the gemstone down with a thud and pressed my hand upon it. I kept a clear image in mind as I began an incantation and the onyx began to glow softly. After a moment there was a sharp crack and the gem split, dropping thin shards around the larger, now complete, gemstone. I picked it up and examined it, light glinting off its intricate faces. The once spherical crystal was now more egg-shaped, the hole through the stone now absent, perfect for the staff. I looked down at the wooden rod before me and waved my own staff over it, causing it to rise from the table.

I directed my staff to the empty head hovering before me. My focus began to glow as I began my incantation. The room filled with the sound of creaking wood as the head began to expand, opening to allow the crystal ingress. After a moment I deftly lowered the onyx into position and slowly released the spell, causing the wood to contract once more and bind the focus into place. I gingerly tapped the gem as I checked to ensure it was not at risk of shattering or slipping out. The onyx held firm in its place as it continued to glint in the light. The wood bindings now split the gem into five faces, one for each cardinal direction and a fifth resting atop. The stone would not soon be removed without destruction or enchantment. I lifted the staff from its levitating position and examined it briefly.

It was certainly an improved version of what I carried. Once it was enchanted it would become a most excellent focus for all manner of magic. . but it was not built for me. I turned and carried it to a dark corner of the study. I gently lowered the base onto the floor and rested the head against three other staves, each holding a different gemstone of their own; a ruby, a sapphire, and a piece of quartz. I let out a sigh as I looked at my craftsmanship. "Nearly done," I assured myself, turning back and hobbling over to the table. "Just three more," I muttered as I reached beneath the table and pulled out a virgin cut of wood. I levitated it above the table and repeated a prior incantation, flakes of wood beginning to peel from the length of wood. I let out a sigh as I began depositing the pieces into the bucket. "Perhaps I shall create mine next. It may be selfish, but I am eager to gaze upon my own focus staff. Umhra's and Mogak's staves can wait a while longer."