Closed [Ino Vations]To catch a poisoner[Inoadar]

[Clyde Sullins]

62 Fall 514 Clyde was not new to the inner workings of politics. Having just come from Sahova in fact, he was well used to it. Still though, having something to do purely due to the inner machinations of politics was always an odd thing. Not knowing the whole picture, or the truth of things, or who truly wanted it done, was offputting. Clearly it was sourced by one of the big Ravokian families with a great deal of pull with the Stryfe, and who could get such things done, but which one was a mystery. All he had learned was that someone had asked someone to look into a business, Ino Vations, and eventually through a trickle down effect it had been set upon Clyde to look into it. His actual orders had been to go there on reason of a complaint from a customer, and to look into the owner and the business for anything not above board. What was even more interesting was to learn that he was going to a place he knew of, or at least owned by someone he'd met. A somewhat surprise was to learn that he was not going to the same shop, instead was heading to a newly located shop not even open for long. Apparently the previous one had burnt down, in a mysterious fire. Considering the fire scrolls he'd placed within the old place, he did not doubt this had been caused by his scrolls triggering. Though Clyde had made quite clear what would set them off, so did not understand why they had been triggered. He was after all still alive. Regardless, it would be interesting to catch up with the poisoner, and perhaps find out what had occurred to his old shop Clyde had once visited. Clyde did wonder if his being sent was only by chance, or if some deeper political working was at play. His higher ups surely knew of his past dealings with the specific poisoner, so perhaps they had purposely chosen him as the on to go, kind of as a chance to get retribution? Coming up alongside the shop, the Ravasolaman slowed their motion, bringing them to a halt. Clyde was here on Ebonstryfe business, and was clearly marked as such, wearing his robes with their fine side out, and the symbol of the Ebonstryfe clearly emblazoned on the front. They were a black set of robes, with a black sun skewered by a sword on the front. Along with that they were enchanted for increased durability, and lightness, making them as hardy as most common armor, but much lighter. In his right hand Clyde held Cha, an enchanted staff made of Vian wood, a naturally blue wood that came from Mura. It itself was a mages tool, also enchanted like the robes for durability, but also to be a conduit for Clyde's magic. It was the only weapon he truly needed, when he also had his magical prowess at his disposal. “I shouldn't be longer than a bell or so, if you'd like to wait here. Or not, I'm sure one of your brethren could give me a lift later if you'd like to go on.” Unusually kind with his response, Clyde spoke kindly to the Ravasolman, knowing better than to anger them. They were the life blood of the city, carrying people about and hearing much of note. He preferred to have them on his side, and so did his best to keep in their good graces, even if he did not strictly have to as a member of the Stryfe. He quietly took out three gm, and passed them to the Ravasolaman. Two gm for the trip, and an additional one as a tip. Then he headed inside, looking about the new poisoners shop. He spoke out loud once entering, stating his purpose and who he wanted, making himself known. Yet again something he did not have to do, but which seemed the most expedient way of getting to whom he wanted. “Hello? I am here on Ebonstryfe business. I would like to speak to the owner.”

[Inoadar]

The excitement was still palpable. The smell of fresh lab gear was discernible. The Poisoner was giddy with anticipation of great things to come. Vera, his young, olive-skinned apprentice was actually suffering a virtual disability of enthusiasm. Inoadar still found her enrapt at times, simply staring in wondrous glee at the shining beakers, sparkling pipes and versatile nodule attachments to the brand new elaborate laboratory array. Her focus on chemistry and analysis was greatly distracted.

"Master Nolan, this will be the very first time this calcination crucible has been heated to litmus-negating temperature!" she crowed in adventurousness and triumph. "I'll be the first one to flash heat the sift-filtered lotus ash reagent back into a solid!" She sounded as if she was stepping into a royal coronation to become the first child-queen of all Mizahar.

Inoadar tried to look stern. "Well it's not going to happen if you're going to keep standing there babbling about it, instead of doing it. I don't pay you to get all wonder-struck over some new lab gear, girl! Now get to work."

Vera chuckled, "You don't PAY me for anything, Master Nolan. But you're right. My housing is not free, and I have to remember, I am the Master of the Lab, the Lab is not the master of Me!" she held up a finger, her eyes closed as she recited her profound revelation. Inoadar's clerk/slave, Burke, smiled at the exchange. Vera actually lived with him. Inoadar covered the cost of his NHC unit. This was the "housing" she referred to.

Inoadar would hardly have really punished her for her distraction. He was suffering somewhat himself. Not so much over the sophistication of the gear, as the fact of it's complete subservience to himself alone...well, him and Vera. No more did he have to share time with NMSS personnel, be they staff or renters paying to use the gear.

It was a damper on his mood to think of how many times he'd returned to find the gear left in disgraceful states of unwashed disrespect. But he put that out of his mind. This was brand new gear, provided by the Valdinox family for his services. In fact, the entire building, complete with his upstairs domicile, had been underwritten by this previously uncontacted faction.

Up until now, most of his outsourced contacts involved the Nitrozians. Besides the bribes he paid to the ravosalamen, the clerk at Tarsin's Boarding House and the guards at the ferry station and stables on the south lake shore, he'd only had dealings with that merchant family for outside aid. There had, of course, been a number of one-time gratuities to see certain tasks to completion. Staff at the IHL, a whore or two at the Brothel, a couple of slavers, the list went on...

But things had changed. He was known and respected. And with secure backing, from a family known to have ties with the Black Sun, he would be feared as well. Voices would no longer say his name with a tone suggesting HIS obligation to show deference. He did not, however, fool himself into thinking people would grovel before him. It was the Valdinox they feared. But as their indentured agent, he would share in this respect. The fact was, it was important that he NOT display too much arrogance. He knew what side his bread was buttered on.

But it was definitely NOT buttered on the side of the man whose voice interrupted his reverie. “Hello? I am here on Ebonstryfe business. I would like to speak to the owner.”

'Clyde petching Sullins!' Inoadar had heard that his nemesis was back in town. When he'd arranged to have his old shop burned down, as a result of manipulating the nature of the triggers the mage had applied to his scrolls, he'd hoped to get the man in big trouble for recklessness; and liability for the deaths of those caught in the fire blast the scrolls were designed to inflict.

But he knew the whole situation that had led to this lingering animosity had been the result of a side effect of mental manipulation by that slick troublemaker, Wrenmae. Inoadar actually envied the man's capabilities, but naturally, did not care to have been the victim of them.

In truth though, he did not believe Wrenmae had set out to put any of the people involved in that old confrontation at odds with each other. And he knew that he himself had certainly made no attempt to avoid antagonizing the situation. Maybe things could be different this time. Obviously the Ebonstryfe did not feel that Clyde had done anything too heinous. And Inoadar wanted to prove his loyalty. This may be just the chance to do that.

He stepped out from the lab, passing through the corner of the storeroom to enter the actual shop, where the goods were on sale. He nodded to Burke, who nodded back and retreated to the storeroom to "look for something". Inoadar came fully into Clyde's view and folded his arms. Loyalty or not, he would wait to see what the mage wanted before showing too much welcome either.

"Welcome to 'New Ino Vations." he emphasized the word. "I'd heard you were back. So tell me, is my location easy to find? I'd hate to think I could lose customers for being too out-of-the-way. And just how may I help you, Mr. Sullins?"

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde was not inside of Ino Vations long before he got a response. The inside of the place was nice enough, in good condition, more or less new. Though considering how short the shop had been open, that was likely all too true. Who should respond to his inital call for the owner, but the owner himself, the same poisoner Clyde had met not so long ago. Clyde was uncertain how he felt about the man, but knew amongst many thing that he did not trust the poisoner. For that reason, along with the fact that he was here to investigate, Clyde began to extend out his aura sight once he saw the man. As usual he cleared his mind, and willed his djed to build and collect in Cha, to flow through her. Once inside he willed her to exude out his aura sight, to send out a ping, a ripple of djed infused thought sound. Though sound in that it was only audible to Clyde, only existing in his own manipulations of djed. In and of itself the mental exercise, the images and motions of his djed, was a focus mechanism. Likely none of that was truly how it worked, but it seemed to aid his casting to picture it as such, and to will it to occur as such. "Welcome to 'New Ino Vations." As the man spoke, Clyde felt the first ripple splash in the mans direction, felt as the reverberation of thought sound bounced back at Cha, filling out a vague outline of the outer layer of his aura. With a few more pings the aura grew more clear, slowly drawing on color, sounding a bit blackish mixed with a dark purple greenish hue. Clyde was skilled enough at aura reading that he could keep his magic from affecting his attention overly much, so long as he was only focusing on the one aura. Likely his attention would have been strained to do more at once while also continuing on with a conversation. Clyde kept his face solid, not smiling or frowning at the man. Now that he thought back, he recalled the old shop had also been called Ino vations. Perhaps then the name meant more than it seemed at first glance, if he'd gone so far as to keep the name? Hard to tell initially without more information. "I'd heard you were back. So tell me, is my location easy to find? I'd hate to think I could lose customers for being too out-of-the-way. And just how may I help you, Mr. Sullins?" At this, talk of business, Clyde did smile a bit, as he looked at the man with his mundane eyes. On another level he was looking at the man, hearing how he looked, seeing how he felt, and slowly concentrating and deepening his aura sight upon the man's aura. He could feel a odd flavor arising, a odd taste coming off of the man which Clyde could not quite place. It was a vaguely familiar taste, but Clyde could not say for certain what the taste was, nor why he tasted it upon the man's essence. Knocking his staff Cha once upon the ground with a clunk, Clyde began to pace, not looking directly at the man as he spoke, instead looking about at the room. At the same time his motion with Cha was almost meant to engender a question of the staff. If nothing else, most people asked why she was blue, let alone why a Ebonstryfe was carrying it about as their only visible sign of a defense, and one that traditionally was not a deadly weapon. “Back am I? I suppose I am... Or else, how could I be speaking to you now? Though I do wonder, who said I was back? Always useful to know who is speaking of oneself, and why.” Clyde paused, turning to look at the poisoner for a moment, before returning to his pacing, beginning by stamping Cha once more with a clunk. “As for your location, I suppose its easy enough. But then, I had directions. But then I suppose the type of person seeking out a poisoner is willing to take the time to find said establishment, its not exactly a convenience product.” Clyde paused once more, before continuing on, taking a few more paces about the room, and another measured stamp of Cha. “As to why I am here. I am afraid an official complaint has been lodged against you. I can't recall its specifics. Malpractice, injury, accidental unintended poisoning... I believe it was something along those lines. With said complaint in mind, it is my duty as a member of the Ebonstryfe to investigate such a danger to the general population. You know how it is, nothing personal, but a jobs a job, and a complaints a complaint. I mean, we wouldn't want some guy randomly poisoning innocent people who'd done nothing wrong, now would we?” As he finished up with a question, Clyde pointedly stopped and turned to face the poisoner, meeting his gaze, though still with a expression blank of anger or even glee. More the face of a person only vaguely interested, and somewhat bored to be at the present location, questioning said person. All the while he was slowly narrowing in on the man's aura, and sorting out the confusing mix of colors and sounds, tastes and smells, gazing more deeply within.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar wondered if the man's memory was faulty. How could he think Inoadar would NOT be supremely watchful for a man with whom he'd exchanged death threats; and who had booby trapped his previous shop with fire scrolls? "I'll do you the courtesy of complete honesty, Mr. Sullins. I pay people every season to keep an eye out for those that may present a particular threat to me. And, given our past, you are high on that list."

He held up a hand to forestall any response. "However...I want it understood, I would prefer that these unfortunate past misunderstandings remain that way. I was under a deep seated hypnotic debilitation, and did not show proper respect for your affiliation with our noble Ebonstryfe. I...understand if you doubt my words. You will not be the first. It is something I must suffer as a result of my initial foolishness when I came to this glorious city."

'THAT ought to satisfy him...' the poisoner muttered to himself, though it was his experience that Mr. Clyde Sullins, Ebonstryfe mage, had a penchant for dissatisfaction as a general rule. But he listened with a serene smile as the mage continued. He truly DID wish he could get along with the man, but it seemed as if he had to suffer consistently subtle stings to his pride to do so. He would never have allowed himself to attribute a measure of fault to his OWN barbs in return.

Even now, his mind told him there was no insult in the way Clyde spoke of his goods as not being a "convenience product". He felt the man probably meant nothing derogatory about poison crafting, but it still seemed condescending somehow. He shook it off though, scolding himself for his sensitivity.

It was soon forgotten completely as he claimed to have been sent to investigate a complaint. He found it hard to believe that Clyde would forget the specific nature of the complaint. "Well, is it a complaint here, or at the NMSS?" he asked as the Stryfer continued with his spiel about duty and danger.

He burned to make a snide comment about 'randomly incinerating innocent people, who'd done nothing wrong, with a petching fire scroll', but swallowed it back, taking a deep breath to maintain his calm.

The mage finished and stood with a mildly bored expression. Inoadar gave him another moment to confirm that there were no further details. "What am I to say if there's no specifics on the complaint? Of course there is a danger to the population. Everyone knows what I sell here. But I am not liable for the purposes to which someone puts my goods, after the sale. If a man murders a citizen with a knife, do you entertain a "complaint" against the weapon merchant?"

He started counting off on his fingers, "If someone has been murdered with a poison, I can well expect you to come to me for expert advice, identification of the toxin used, possible record of the sale, maybe to ask if I remember a suspicious customer. And I am certainly willing to help. But I am at a loss without some details."

The man's gaze unnerved him. He wondered if it could even be the Nitrozians that leveled this nuisance against him. He'd been their man up until he'd helped Valerius get the NMSS set up. Since then, he'd had really nothing to do with them. If they'd heard that he was being underwritten by the Valdinox, they may be trying to deliver a blow to them, through him. Voice knew they had plenty of incriminating details. But would they want to risk the possible backlash of total disclosure?

"Look, Mr. Sullins, I have only been open for a few days here. I have no problem with you looking over the records of my sales. There have not been too many yet. Word of mouth will bring more customers to my door. And of course, you can look the place over if you wish. I have nothing to hide. I never have."

He regretted letting that last comment slip. He had converted to Rhysol fully now, but he knew damned well that he'd hidden plenty in his first year here. And after his interrogation, he knew the Stryfe knew about all of it. He had even killed four Ebonstryfe soldiers. Initiates, of course, but soldiers nonetheless. He'd spirited a couple of rebels out of town for pay, as well as a couple of would-be Kelvic slaves. And set up a network of information that he'd not shared with the authorities.

Of course, he'd done a great deal of good for the city since then, and suspected that these recent deeds were the only reason he'd survived his ordeal in The Black Hole. He thought it was entirely possible that Clyde wanted something from him; something not related to any alleged complaint.

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde couldn't help but smile a bit, as the poisoner explained his reasoning for watching out for Clyde, for why he'd gone through the trouble of paying people off to warn him should he return. Though now that he thought on it, that also meant he'd likely paid someone that had told him he'd left in the first place. Otherwise how could he have known and then asked for someone to alert him to Clyde's return? He also smiled a bit about the profession of "complete honesty." He had dealt with the man enough to doubt that he was being totally honest even in this instance. "I'll do you the courtesy of complete honesty, Mr. Sullins. I pay people every season to keep an eye out for those that may present a particular threat to me. And, given our past, you are high on that list." "However...I want it understood, I would prefer that these unfortunate past misunderstandings remain that way. I was under a deep seated hypnotic debilitation, and did not show proper respect for your affiliation with our noble Ebonstryfe. I...understand if you doubt my words. You will not be the first. It is something I must suffer as a result of my initial foolishness when I came to this glorious city." Clyde let out a short "ha" as the man finished his explanation, still smiling back at him. As the man spoke, Clyde listened to the background hum of his djed, of his aura, of the rises and falls. As he listened Clyde was beginning to detect a pattern, or at least a tying in between what was said, and when the rises and falls occurred. His first notice was of a odd bristling feeling, like burs rubbing over his skin, near the end of the poisoners speech. Though his words did not show it, there was clearly a bit of latent anger or something there, or some form of bristly thoughts aimed at Clyde. Anger was an emotion none to subtle, but it seemed that those were the peaks Clyde was detecting. “Me a threat to you? I think you misremember our past encounters. You were the one who made attempts against me through subterfuge and second parties. I was quite clear and direct in my own actions, and only did so in direct response to what you did. So in truth in this instance, you are the greater threat to yourself, as since by your own actions you drew both my attention and momentary ire.” “People trying to assassinate me tend to have that effect. But had you not done what you'd done, I would not have had to respond as I did. And trust me when I say, my reaction was much... Nicer... Than it had to be. Don't think you are the only one to have been cursed by a powerful hypnotist, nor that such a thing totally excuses you from your actions. But I suppose in that instance, I do find myself understanding your plight more than others would.” Though he did not outright say it, Clyde was clearly alluding to his own history, of the instance when he was under the affects of a powerful hypnotist that he had run into in Syliras as a child. In that way, he did commiserate a bit with the poisoner. Though only to a degree, as his own hypnotic curse upon him had been much worse than the effect laid upon this poisoner. But then, he also restrained himself from divulging the full details, or really any at all about his particular case, at least for the moment. Perhaps though it was better to leave the other man wondering, with his half confessed notion. However Clyde had little time to mull this over before they went on to the reason for his visit, that of the complaint. Clyde continued walking about, making an occasional stomp of Cha, as he listened to the mans spiel, letting him speak and say what he wanted to, until he ran out of things to say, before he felt a need to respond. Often when one asked a general question, he found, people tended to make assumptions and try to explain away or speak on the problem they thought was at issue, when in actuality a completely different thing was being questioned. This poisoner was not exception to the rule, quickly delving into a lengthy tirade/explanation to wave away what he perceived as the question being asked, or of the problem being leveled. Clyde simply continued to pace about as he listened, not looking at his face very often, instead trying to carry on with an intimidating demeanor, something Clyde was growing increasingly skilled at. "Well, is it a complaint here, or at the NMSS?" Here Clyde noted another surge in his aura, another bristly feeling aimed at Clyde. This time he noted a physical signifier, a pausing and a taking of a breath, as if to forestall speaking. Or perhaps simply as a method of calming oneself. It was a simple enough meditation technique that Clyde had practiced to calm himself, to pause between speaking and take some calming breaths. This seemed to indicate, tied in with the physical action, that the odd bristly feeling was indeed anger. "What am I to say if there's no specifics on the complaint? Of course there is a danger to the population. Everyone knows what I sell here. But I am not liable for the purposes to which someone puts my goods, after the sale. If a man murders a citizen with a knife, do you entertain a "complaint" against the weapon merchant?" "If someone has been murdered with a poison, I can well expect you to come to me for expert advice, identification of the toxin used, possible record of the sale, maybe to ask if I remember a suspicious customer. And I am certainly willing to help. But I am at a loss without some details." "Look, Mr. Sullins, I have only been open for a few days here. I have no problem with you looking over the records of my sales. There have not been too many yet. Word of mouth will bring more customers to my door. And of course, you can look the place over if you wish. I have nothing to hide. I never have." As the poisoner finished speaking, Clyde felt a drop in the aura readings, not exactly a slope downward, but a jut downward suddenly. A different emotion being felt that was more downward centric, though Clyde could not place it. Now that he was apparently finished, Clyde paused, turning to face the man, stopping with another stomp of Cha on the ground. By his response Clyde had learned several things. For one, he had either a guilty conscious about some of the poisons he had, or had sold, or too who he had sold them. Perhaps he had sold them to someone he shouldn't have... Though his insistence on having nothing to hide tended to tell Clyde the opposite. Clearly he had plenty to hide, and so was insistent on the fact of his innocent. But then, innocent people did not have anything to hide, and so therefore had no need to say they were innocent, since it was so obvious. Clearly in this case the man either had much to hide from his current actions, or those of the past, which had not yet been fully revealed. Clyde continued to smile back at the man, enjoying as he more or less interrogated himself on Clyde's behalf through the open ended statement. It was a questioning technique that did not always work, but when it did, it worked exceedingly well. And there was also the bit about the series of bribes, for information feelers to alert him to any coming threat to the poisoner, that was revealing. Perhaps such a series of bribes and informants should be looked into... But now that he knew of the one avenue of a complaint, it made more sense to go in a different direction with the supposed complaint. The first thing that came to mind was the dangers of the shop itself, and so Clyde went with that as his story. “Assumptions assumptions, you really do make a lot of assumptions on something I've yet to have time to fully explain. Do you perhaps have a specific instance of having sold to a particular nefarious individual that is weighing on your conscious? Well never mind. Since the complaint that was registered has nothing to do with any of that.” Clyde paused for a moment, letting it sink in that all that the poisoner had said was more or less pointless and unneeded to be said, even though Clyde had allowed him to say it all. “You are too right, that we would not blame a craftsman such as yourself, or a weapons maker, for the final use that his product has, nor for the activities it is used in. We would indeed question the person directly responsible, and you only in an assistance role. However as such in this case, for say... One of those convenience product vendors, say a man selling ale on the corner, if his patrons grew sick from the ale they consumed, would we not question said vendor?” “Such is the case here. The complaint is not from a end person being poisoned, but from one of your customers themselves who purchased your product, or visited your shop, and through no fault of their own were affected by one of your poisons. It is well understood that poisons should be poisonous, but it is another thing to have complaints of unsafe work areas, improperly sealed poisons, and an unsafe store environment. People shouldn't be poisoned simply by walking into your shop, or by handling a "sealed" poison. Such is the issue here, and the source of the complaint. Its also why we are talking here, at your facilities where the issue in question arises, and not in other places more conductive to questioning. It is not your records that are in question, but your facilities themselves.”

[Inoadar]

Inoadar smiled as he shook his head. "Clyde, Clyde, Clyde...You asked me about who was marking your comings and goings, didn't you? So I told you. I was not trying to inspire you to rehash our old confrontation. It is all too tiresome, even after all this time. Especially that part where you are still unable to see anyone's point of view but your own."

He folded his arms and leaned back against a table, "And this is made plain by your refusal to see that it is really Wrenmae that was the big threat there. But I DID come to realize how wrong I was...At the start anyway." His eyes narrowed with his last comment. "I am perfectly willing to engage this debate again, if you insist. But how about the short version? My comprehension was distorted into perceiving your comments against Wrenmae as disloyal to one of Rhysol's chosen. Wouldn't you have been angry over such a transgression?"

He held his finger up to indicate just a bit more. "It's not about whether I wa-...okay, the FACT that I was wrong." he nodded this concession to Clyde. "It's that I believed you were disparaging Our Lord! Knowing this, how can you fault me? I do not claim to have been RIGHT, but all the escalation after that stemmed from YOUR reaction, your threats, your promises of destruction."

"You see, from MY point of view, at the time, I was being told, by someone I was made to feel was disloyal to My God, that I'd be destroyed if showed any further displeasure. Well, being a loyal Ravokian, there was no way I could NOT take further displeasure. I MUST react as I did. That made your warnings into threats. And I treated them as such."

The poisoner sighed heavily, "I don't suppose any of this matters to you. You have your rank, which was ALSO held over my head as a warning. I figured you to be a rebel infiltrator. And as such, you'd need to be rid of me before I exposed you." he grinned suddenly, "I suppose you'd probably STILL like to be rid of me. But, alas, you have to investigate me first."

He thought of mentioning how he'd been interrogated in the Black Hole itself, by the very Druvin Warden himself! And been released, to resume his unique position in the city. But he decided to let the man think he would be able to intimidate him. '...and good luck with that.' he smirked to himself. If Ematho had opted to let him live, would he be pleased to have this mere soldier rescind his decision?

He listened as Clyde went into vague details about the investigation, both relieved and disappointed to have not triggered further debate from the mage. But he actually found himself genuinely alarmed at the thought that such an accident could have happened. This was suddenly a delicate situation. Having been underwritten by the Valdinox, with their connections to the Black Sun, what profit would there be in immediately undermining his professionalism with some poorly crafted equipment? Had someone sabotaged something?

He looked calculatingly at Clyde, speaking slowly and cautiously. "I'm sure the records of who provided me with this equipment are not beyond the authority of your order, Mr. Sullins. Oh, by the way, is there some other title I should honor you with?" he asked this last question with a sudden light tone, to change the subject. "Mr. Sullins' just doesn't do you justice, but 'Soldier' seems like I'm presuming a higher military position. As for 'Sir', I call any mere citizen that. You certainly deserve something more than that."

[Clyde Sullins]

"Clyde, Clyde, Clyde...You asked me about who was marking your comings and goings, didn't you? So I told you. I was not trying to inspire you to rehash our old confrontation. It is all too tiresome, even after all this time. Especially that part where you are still unable to see anyone's point of view but your own." Clyde shook his head, continuing to grin back at the poisoner. It suddenly occurred to him that he could not recall his name, even though he'd been told it upon being sent on this mission. He seemed to have a knack for forgetting this mans name. Still though, it was funny, since he was pointing out a fact about Clyde, while doing the very same thing he called Clyde on doing. A pot calling a kettle black, not noticing its own blackness. "And this is made plain by your refusal to see that it is really Wrenmae that was the big threat there. But I DID come to realize how wrong I was...At the start anyway." Still though, it was clear that the man was in denial, unable to take responsibility for his own actions. Clyde did what he did knowing what might happen might happen, and it had indeed. But it had been a conserved reaction, and one much subtler than his usual responses. Wrenmae had apparently done what he'd done, perhaps inexpertly, but in a way that served him. He'd likely not done it intentionally to cause what he had to happen, nor to go against Clyde, but should he have known he'd likely take responsibility for it. However as Clyde knew, being hypnotized was no excuse, one was still responsible for ones own actions. This habit of the poisoner, to not take responsibility truly for his own actions but to focus on others, was a clear sign he had not learned much from his past. Clyde had learned much from his own experience of being cursed, and had been changed at an innate level by that understanding and learning. This man however... Had not. He still clung to his old self, Clyde could see this. Clearly he needed help in doing so, lest he never be able to step forward. "I am perfectly willing to engage this debate again, if you insist. But how about the short version? My comprehension was distorted into perceiving your comments against Wrenmae as disloyal to one of Rhysol's chosen. Wouldn't you have been angry over such a transgression?" "It's not about whether I wa-...okay, the FACT that I was wrong." "It's that I believed you were disparaging Our Lord! Knowing this, how can you fault me? I do not claim to have been RIGHT, but all the escalation after that stemmed from YOUR reaction, your threats, your promises of destruction." "You see, from MY point of view, at the time, I was being told, by someone I was made to feel was disloyal to My God, that I'd be destroyed if showed any further displeasure. Well, being a loyal Ravokian, there was no way I could NOT take further displeasure. I MUST react as I did. That made your warnings into threats. And I treated them as such." "I don't suppose any of this matters to you. You have your rank, which was ALSO held over my head as a warning. I figured you to be a rebel infiltrator. And as such, you'd need to be rid of me before I exposed you." "I suppose you'd probably STILL like to be rid of me. But, alas, you have to investigate me first." Clyde smiled, shaking his head, though the smile was false, and did not move beyond his lips. "I'm sure the records of who provided me with this equipment are not beyond the authority of your order, Mr. Sullins. Oh, by the way, is there some other title I should honor you with?" "Mr. Sullins' just doesn't do you justice, but 'Soldier' seems like I'm presuming a higher military position. As for 'Sir', I call any mere citizen that. You certainly deserve something more than that." “Ah but being rid of something is such a subjective thing. Take it from me, someone who has seen life, death, and undeath... Things are not so simple, and things once gone do not necessarily stay as such.” “But your supposition, that you were forced into your actions, both through the hypnotic effect of Wrenmae, and by how I reacted... Please. Your sanity and memory were left intact. Your ability and consciousness where left as such. Perhaps you were nudged, perhaps a confusion was laid over what you saw, but you were still you, and your actions were your actions. You still had a choice, you still had will and freedom, and the ability to act as you chose. And for that your actions are your own, not those of the ones who affected you. Only when you see that, will you truly be free of the effect, and no longer a slave to the hypnosis.” Clyde sighed, letting the false smile fade from his face, as he stepped along further, looking about the room and checking for the next one. “But alas it is clear that even now it still affects you, and you are in denial. Hypnotism is about will, and only the strong of will can overcome it. Only those who understand themselves, and who they are, what they are, can step through it to find themselves intact. Until you truly will it, and know it, believe it, you will be a slave.” Pressing deeper, Clyde inspected the poisoner, felt across the green black hue's that were the stream of him djed. As he looked, he felt a slight taint, a foreignness, a foriegn djed still within his own djed. Remnants, leftovers and bits from magic laid upon his person. There was a slight fuzzing within his chest, and a greater fuzzing of the foreign djed within his skull. It was only by his deep intrusion and inspection of his aura that he saw the fine residue of the past magics. However he also saw something else, something he'd never seen before. A odd flash, blackness, images, images of the man, but not now. It was a confused garble, a mix of colors and images, but the rush was slowly fading and slowing. He wasn't sure what he was seeing, but it was something, something new. With a somewhat far off look, as he was focused not on what his mundane sight was showing him, Clyde spoke, though not in particular to the man before him. “Names. Names are words, words to pin down and describe, to try to understand. While names can help with understanding, understanding takes more than simple words. It takes intent. I am Clyde. Clyde Sullins. I am a mage. Sir Wizard. Teacher. Ebonstryfe. Chaon. I was destroyed. I came to be remade. I hold within my hand Cha, who is more than a simple staff of wood. Who though are you? What is your name? What are you? What describes you? What is your name?”

[Inoadar]

Inoadar maintained his blank smile. "I have seen all those things as well, my friend. And I wonder how you can claim to know to what degree ALL people can justifiably be affected. Or for how long. I doubt very seriously that ALL people are affected in exactly the same way by hypnosis. Perhaps you have an innate resistance to it that I lack. Perhaps the one who subjected YOU to it lacked Wrenmae's power."

He waved dismissively. "But you still misunderstand me to some extent. While I DO blame Wrenmae for twisting my perception to think you a traitor, I do not say that he "ordered" me to speak out. He was not even there. I do not deny making the choice for myself. For I put my devotion to OUR God above my own welfare. If you are truly going to fault a man for being so devoted as to confront a powerful mage, rather than cringe in fear and allow him to freely go on his way, then I must confess to my complete misunderstanding of the term 'loyalty".

He folded his arms with a sigh, "But this is getting us nowhere. I AM sorry, and I DO apologize. But not for resenting that you WILL NOT allow that I was doing what I thought was my duty. My motivation was with the desire to do My God's will, and I do not apologize for that. I fully admit my faulty judgement, but it was the result of the effect I was under."

He started toward the door to the storeroom. "And it's very easy for you to say that I am still affected. Naturally, if I am, I will be the last to know. But by that logic, I can accuse YOU of the same thing. Perhaps YOU did not shake it off so well as YOU thought. Maybe that staff, which you keep pounding on my new floor, is empowered somehow to keep you so befuddled as to remain oblivious to the fact that you do the bidding of our enemies. Now, of course, I do not truly think this. But could you PROVE it was not so, if no one wanted to believe you? If they decried your honest insistence as denial?"

"And, to clarify, I never made any assassination attempt. My actions were to craft a defensive measure against you." He gestured to the door to the storeroom, ready to escort Clyde through his new facility. He was, in fact quite proud of it. He would be perfectly willing to continue the discussion as he led the Stryfer on, showing him the large double door on the right, leading to the dock, and the two doors on the left, the first to the lab, the second to his office. If they went further, he would define each additional room, and its function.

But for now, he continued, "I would really like to put this all behind us Clyde. I really would. But I'm afraid my very next observation is only going to seem contentious once again. I do not deny keeping a watch for your return. But even without it, I would know that you have not been back long. For you should already know some of what you have asked me. You see, last season, I was arrested and put to the question in the Black Hole."

He held up his left hand, with its missing finger and a half. "This is only the most visible scar of what I suffered. But I make no complaint. My actions from my first days here, brought me to that end, fully deserved. But surprisingly, those actions were not greatly focused on. In fact, they were largely dismissed as actions which proved my creativity and resourcefulness. As if to justify the second chance My God, Rhysol, has given me."

It occurred to him that the mage woiuld surely ask what WAS asked during the interrogation. He sought to nip that in the bud. "Now, I am unsure as to whether I am allowed to give you details, despite your rank. For those that questioned me outrank you. I can only assume you can go to The Vitrax and find these things out for yourself. But the reason I mention this is that I was ordered to give my oath of allegiance."

He narrowed his eyes in memory. "Now this seems a simple enough thing for a loyal man to do. BUT...in that circumstance, what value is a promise of loyalty and obedience? When it is assumed that a man would say anything to escape further torture? That same conundrum presents itself here and now. How do I give you the proper measure of deference, against our past contention, without it seeming as a coward's defeat, and not genuinely spoken?"

His eyes then clouded and twitched in those same memories, "So I resisted to the last, announcing this point of view and refusing to swear loyalty under those conditions, avowing such an oath as meaningless. Then, when The Warden gave me a moment's respite, I gave my oath."

The poisoner suddenly knelt. "Clyde Sullins, soldier of The Ebonstryfe, I Inoadar, certified by the name of 'Nolan Parnell', born 'Trandino Adarius', and going by a number of other aliases, do swear my undying oath, and I give it willingly. I swear on my life and my name, that I know only one true God. I worship only that one God, holding him to be rightful ruler above all other gods, and all that is, and ever shall be. And that god is Rhysol, he that protects Ravok and requires the loyalty of his subjects. I acknowledge that my actions have not always represented my devotion. I am only mortal and lack the full understanding of his will. I acknowledge my error in thinking that I ever knew a truer path, when it was at odds with the commands of his servants, my superiors, being those chosen by his will to direct my actions."

The he lifted his face to the ceiling. "I swear undivided loyalty to You, my Lord, to your city, Ravok, and to it's guardians and directors, of both body and mind, your Ebonstryfe, your Black Sun and your Druvin. All other priorities are secondary. I have been broken by your will, remade by your will, stronger by your will, and swear to sacrifice my life in its service."

[Clyde Sullins]

It seemed of all things, their discussion was changing into more of a philosophical debate, pondering on free will and whose actions were responsible by whom. An odd thing, considering the past of the two present. Almost absentmindedly, Clyde kept his connection to Cha, could feel the workings of djed as they mingled their powers, and exerted their senses upon the poisoner. Of all the magics Clyde had used through Cha, Auristics was always the most interesting, due to the perspective shift he often felt through her. His aura sense felt more... Radiant, through her. At the same time, he felt connected to her, as he worked with her for the magics. "I have seen all those things as well, my friend. And I wonder how you can claim to know to what degree ALL people can justifiably be affected. Or for how long. I doubt very seriously that ALL people are affected in exactly the same way by hypnosis. Perhaps you have an innate resistance to it that I lack. Perhaps the one who subjected YOU to it lacked Wrenmae's power." Now though, they were getting into Clyde's domain, magic and djed theory. That was something he did understand, quite well in fact. The thrum of his voice met Clyde's ears mundanely, but so did the beat of his aura thrumming outward pulse to him magically. As he spoke there was a steady rhythm, a beat to it, with small up swells and down slides, but mostly steady. "But you still misunderstand me to some extent. While I DO blame Wrenmae for twisting my perception to think you a traitor, I do not say that he "ordered" me to speak out. He was not even there. I do not deny making the choice for myself. For I put my devotion to OUR God above my own welfare. If you are truly going to fault a man for being so devoted as to confront a powerful mage, rather than cringe in fear and allow him to freely go on his way, then I must confess to my complete misunderstanding of the term 'loyalty". Now though, it was clear the man still did not take responsibility for his own actions. Now he was blaming Rhysol, or his devotion to him, or of him, as the reason he had done what he'd done. Clyde doubted that was the truth, doubted that his actions had been much of anything outside of working in his own self interest. Doubted he'd thought so far as to find blame in Clyde in being not of Rhysol, even though he was, and thus had acted for that reasoning. It was due to nothing he detected magically, more so it was his own instincts that told him so. Though the statement that he had "confronted a powerful mage" made Clyde almost laugh. He had not confronted him, instead go about it in a sideways roundabout and indirect fashion, sending another in his place. He had not confronted Clyde, instead trying by stealth to maneuver to his own advantage. Yet he had the gall to say he had confronted Clyde... Funny, if not ironic. "But this is getting us nowhere. I AM sorry, and I DO apologize. But not for resenting that you WILL NOT allow that I was doing what I thought was my duty. My motivation was with the desire to do My God's will, and I do not apologize for that. I fully admit my faulty judgement, but it was the result of the effect I was under." "And it's very easy for you to say that I am still affected. Naturally, if I am, I will be the last to know. But by that logic, I can accuse YOU of the same thing. Perhaps YOU did not shake it off so well as YOU thought. Maybe that staff, which you keep pounding on my new floor, is empowered somehow to keep you so befuddled as to remain oblivious to the fact that you do the bidding of our enemies. Now, of course, I do not truly think this. But could you PROVE it was not so, if no one wanted to believe you? If they decried your honest insistence as denial?" This Clyde also found funny. He not only claimed that he was free of any effect, but also that Clyde was himself affected. The fact that he was a mage, using magic at this moment, meant he was not. But then, this man did not know what had been done to him, did not know that the very proof that he was free was the actions of magic Clyde had taken before, which the poisoner found so rude and such. The fact that he was a mage at all, was in direct dispute to the magics used against his mind. He could, in fact, prove it, simply by doing the smallest of spells, and admitting that he was a mage and magic existed. The effect used upon him though had been far less subtle than what had been used on this man. "And, to clarify, I never made any assassination attempt. My actions were to craft a defensive measure against you." As Clyde watched, the imagery shifted, taking on a clarity, as a second and third man formed a chain, shifted forward in motion towards a certain doorway. Within a few moments the man in reality made a gesture to the same door, directing Clyde to that door and heading toward it. Yet Clyde had seen it, seen it before he had actually done it. Not seen the specifics of the actions, but seen the door, knew he would be going to it. As Clyde listened deeper to the echo's from the man, he found more of such images, felt the shifting from place to place, from thing to thing. He felt as the second and third images turned to himself, turned to other doors, turned to other rooms, and back to him. All just before the actual man in fact did turn to or go to those things. As he listened deeper, he found himself more and more concentrated on the task of examining the man, and less and less listening to his words. He still heard them, but slowly more and more he was cognizant less and less of them. "I would really like to put this all behind us Clyde. I really would. But I'm afraid my very next observation is only going to seem contentious once again. I do not deny keeping a watch for your return. But even without it, I would know that you have not been back long. For you should already know some of what you have asked me. You see, last season, I was arrested and put to the question in the Black Hole." Clyde recalled his own torture, when he had been marked by Rhysol. But then he had been tortured not by a Druvin, not in the Black Hole, but perhaps by Rhysol himself, or a seeming of Rhysol, or some such confusion. Even to this day the events were clouded and did not make much sense. But oddest of all, was as Clyde watched in his aura sight, as the man made a indication to the now gone finger, there was an echo. For a moment his physical sight overlaid his magical sight, and as he did it blurred, and in his aura sight all of the fingers were there and intact, even as in his mundane sight he could see the finger missing. But as quickly as it had came, it was gone, forgotten, a wisp escaping. One moment the finger was there in his magical awareness, the next it puffed away as mist, mist carried on a wind. "This is only the most visible scar of what I suffered. But I make no complaint. My actions from my first days here, brought me to that end, fully deserved. But surprisingly, those actions were not greatly focused on. In fact, they were largely dismissed as actions which proved my creativity and resourcefulness. As if to justify the second chance My God, Rhysol, has given me." "Now, I am unsure as to whether I am allowed to give you details, despite your rank. For those that questioned me outrank you. I can only assume you can go to The Vitrax and find these things out for yourself. But the reason I mention this is that I was ordered to give my oath of allegiance." Clyde recalled his own oath taking, his own trials, and his own pain. Rhysol was known for his tests, for his testings of his faithful. Clyde could sense a small disturbance, an unevenness of the echo's off of the man, of the thrum of his aura, though in a different way. It was not up or down, but side to side, if directions could indeed make sense when explaining a sound and a feeling. But it made sense to Clyde. It was not downward or upward, did not mean the same thing, but something new. "Now this seems a simple enough thing for a loyal man to do. BUT...in that circumstance, what value is a promise of loyalty and obedience? When it is assumed that a man would say anything to escape further torture? That same conundrum presents itself here and now. How do I give you the proper measure of deference, against our past contention, without it seeming as a coward's defeat, and not genuinely spoken?" Clyde recalled his question of obedience. He however had never been asked to follow Rhysol. In fact, he had been asked the opposite. He had been asked to turn traitor on him, to assist the Rising Dawn, and to sign a Grand Oath to him. Clyde had declined in a roundabout fashion, and had then been tortured. Then he had been questioned more, along with other oddities and actions. "So I resisted to the last, announcing this point of view and refusing to swear loyalty under those conditions, avowing such an oath as meaningless. Then, when The Warden gave me a moment's respite, I gave my oath." Suddenly there was another shifting, a motion of the man, a downward motion as the second man knelt and moved to the floor, while the third stood looking at Clyde. Oddly enough to Clyde, the true man did likewise, kneeling before Clyde, while looking at him. His next words were the most interesting so far. "Clyde Sullins, soldier of The Ebonstryfe, I Inoadar, certified by the name of 'Nolan Parnell', born 'Trandino Adarius', and going by a number of other aliases, do swear my undying oath, and I give it willingly. I swear on my life and my name, that I know only one true God. I worship only that one God, holding him to be rightful ruler above all other gods, and all that is, and ever shall be. And that god is Rhysol, he that protects Ravok and requires the loyalty of his subjects. I acknowledge that my actions have not always represented my devotion. I am only mortal and lack the full understanding of his will. I acknowledge my error in thinking that I ever knew a truer path, when it was at odds with the commands of his servants, my superiors, being those chosen by his will to direct my actions." "I swear undivided loyalty to You, my Lord, to your city, Ravok, and to it's guardians and directors, of both body and mind, your Ebonstryfe, your Black Sun and your Druvin. All other priorities are secondary. I have been broken by your will, remade by your will, stronger by your will, and swear to sacrifice my life in its service." Clyde smiled, motioning for the man, this Trandino Adarius, or as he was known Nolan Parnell, to rise. As he had listened, both mundanely and magically, he had felt the thrum, the evenness, and the purity of tonality. Even and smooth, of one purpose and truth. Clyde let him finish, before finally responding. “Rise, Mr.Parnell. Your words... Intrigue me. Let me in turn, tell you a few truths. Though let me finish myself before you interrupt. Let me first begin with a bit of basic djed theory. All magic is done by djed. Djed used, transformed, expended and re-purposed to cause an effect. This is how all magic works, from the flames of Reimancy, to the mind games of hypnotism, to the workings of Magecrafting, as exists in this staff I hold. All are about djed, djed being moved or reused or transformed, and thus causing the end effect.” “You ask how I know what I know, how I know that I was not simply more resistant to the spell than you were, and that you were not affected more than me because you were weaker. I know this because of the laws of magic. A spell is a spell, no matter what upon. If I manifested a ball of flame, and threw it at you, you would burn. However if I in turn created the same ball of flame, and tossed it at myself, all other being the same, I would just as surely be burned. All magic is as this. One cannot be resistant to magic, one is simply affected. There are exemptions, other rules, and quirks of other magics that distort this, such as say Anti-magic, but at its core magic is magic no matter who upon. You only know the strength of a magic by its end effect, by the spell made manifest, the user does not matter. The strength or weakness of the user does not matter. All that matters is the strength of the used spell. It is how I know that the spell used upon you was weaker than the one used upon me.” “Hypnotism, as I understand it, acts upon will and belief. The more subtle it is, the more unnoticed, the more likely it is to work. Likewise the more unsubtle, the more obvious and different from ones own thoughts a effect is, the harder it is to do, the stronger the needed effect. Your thoughts, your reasoning, were altered in a small way, one that to a degree was in line with your own thoughts. It worked within your own thought system, within your own mentality, and so was a lesser working when compared.” “The spell used upon me however, the hypnotic conditioning place upon my mind, was not subtle, did not work within my thoughts, instead working against it. The effect laid upon me was nothing less than telling me, forcing upon my will the fact and telling, that magic was not real. I, a mage, I who could create fire upon a whim, was told that magic was not real, and so strong was the spell that I did not question it, and for years, was a mage who could not use magic, for I did not believe in its existence. So strong was the effect that even when magic was used before me, I explained it away, and still did not believe.” Clyde paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, and taking a moment to rub his hand along Cha to reassure himself of her existence, of his existence, of his magic. The vibration he felt at her contact, the senses of magic through her, were a good way of calming himself. “You ask then, how I know I am no longer affected by this magic? It is because I have used magic, use magic, am using magic now, and acknowledge this. If I was still affected as I was from the time I was but a child of 12 when I was first so cursed, and until the affect was overthrown with the aid of another strong hypnotists aid but a few years past, then I would not now be a mage, and would still refute the existence of magic.” Clyde paused once more, the pain of his own brought up and almost forgotten memories clear on his face, and at the secure nature by which he clutched the magic staff Cha, his knuckles whitening. “Magic is about will, but overcoming Hypnotism is even more so about will, about knowing who you are. While the aid I received helped lift the weight enough to move, to finally overcome the effect and break free of it in its permanence, I myself was responsible for my freedom, for my own freedom, by my own belief conviction and will. Perhaps now you see why I say the same is true of you, in your overcoming said effect. I speak not being unfairly, but from experience, in having overcome much greater trials.” “And I also hope you understand that what is said here, is to stay here, between the two of us. I speak in confidence that you will be discrete.” While Clyde did not enjoy the memories, he also knew the importance of remembering. He knew he needed to recall so as to know what he had been through, but also more importantly to never let it happen again.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar listened to the mage, probably more than he would have in the past. He found himself agreeing with much the man said but still disagreeing with a considerable share. "I am aware of how will is the hinge that hypnotic success turns upon. I am citing it as both the cause of Wrenmae's success AND my eventually shaking it off."

He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes slghtly, "First, I am not that sure we are talking about the same stage of our conflict. Except for my reference to my "defensive measure", where I recruited Amolina, I have been referring only to the initial confrontation in my old shop, in the presence of Marcus Ayhsen."

"Now, I think I understand your statement about the power of a spell. And I can see that being entirely true of something as...tangible...as a fire ball. But with something, as you yourself describe, as subtle as hypnotism, the power of the...caster...I believe would be only one element. There would be the "approach" in how the lie is impressed upon the target. But also the innate vulnerability of the target, at that exact time, TO that specific approach."

Inoadar found himself greatly appreciating Clyde's willingness to engage him this way. "For myself, while I have no skill in hypnosis, I would assume there to be far more than the simple amount of "power" the practitioner has. Consider, for instance, a lie spoken without hypnosis. A "better" liar will know how to word it more smoothly; how to broach the subject in a more seemingly innocent fashion; how to imply corroboration that does not truly exist; and how to play upon the convictions he has learned that the target possesses ahead of time. The point being that two different people telling the same lie, about the same topic, to two different targets, could have vastly different levels of success, even though the lies are of the exact same degree of believability."

"And I believe that hypnosis would compound this tremendously. And I believe this all came into play with Wrenmae's actions. There is still one aspect of which I think you may be unaware. Just a few days prior to the meeting with Marcus and you was the event of my conversion to Rhysol's fold!"

Inoadar placed his hands together as if in prayer and turned a joyous expression to the ceiling. "I was enrapt with the salvation at hand; rejoicing over the feeling that I'd finally found a god worthy of worship! One that set aside my offenses and acknowledged my abilities as useful and worthy of contribution. The main one being, at that time, that glyphed bird skull, and my prayers that it could be used to destroy My God's enemies."

Then, once again, a bitter anger crossed Inoadar's face. "..and it was in this frame of mind that Wrenmae "impressed" upon me his status as one of his god's chosen, led to me by his god, come to see me rise in status among His fold. I could not have BEEN in a more perfect state of eagerness to be deceived. My will WAS strong. But it strong towards the wrong end. But it was also because Wrenmae was not actually trying to deceive me. His god was Vayt, not Rhysol!"

"As a poisoner, I guess he assumed that Vayt would be MY god as well, and did not need to be clarified. And certainly I DO revere Vayt. But only as a worthy adherent to the Supreme God, Rhysol. But in my diverted mind, I thought Wrenmae was sent by Rhysol to bring me to new heights in His service. I could not have been more eager to believe...The lie being perfectly imposed upon me, I accepted it with absolute conviction."

He paused, and a somewhat shame-faced grin touched his features, "...And then you spoke ill of both Wrenmae and his magic..." he could hardly look the mage in the face. "In that instant, you became the embodiment of all that stood to prevent me from rising in Rhysol's glory. And worse, since we were engaged in the pursuit of a traitor, it did not seem outlandish that you were there specifically to undermine that effort."

Inoadar sighed, knowing there was no going back, only forward. "In fairness, I do not blame Wrenmae for the gamut of offenses I imagined you being guilty of. But by the time I'd realized that my behavior was shockingly out of character, and that I'd been "bent", WE were already enemies and I'd already had you tell me all about the ease, and lack of warning, with which you could destroy me. And the rest is...as they say...history. And I would very much like it to remain that way."

"What I mean is that this was not a lie that ran contrary to my established beliefs, like yours regarding the truth of magic. It was in line with my search for how to more devotedly surrender my will to Rhysol. If someone was to now try to force me to believe that poisons do not truly work, I do not think I would believe it for a single chime. And now I will certainly be on guard for subtle twists of my beliefs. I believe my will to be strong."

Now a look of conviction came upon him and he stood straight, "And I know who I am. I am Trandino Adarius, which name I reject, in favor of the name by which Rhysol and his city has come to know me: 'Nolan Parnell', a man whose identity I usurped upon his death, at my hands, during the riots a year and a half ago. I am a man who has paid numerous penalties for his foolishness. And deserved all of them. A man questioned, tortured, and released by The Warden of The Black Hole. A man who believes that any who feel they suffer injustice in this life, surely escaped justice in their LAST life, and are only now paying the price for it."

Inoadar would have liked to cite more of his own trials in his life, to see how they measured up. But that was only pride talking. Clyde may well have been through trials beyond his imagining. Who, that did not do magic, truly knew what it cost one who did. He nodded at the mage's "confidence" that this conversation would be unspoken of in the future.

"As for this complaint, I suppose it's possible that in the jostling of a move, some seal might have been broken. But I find it difficult to believe I missed something of that nature. I check such things meticulously. Nonetheless, if you can give me more details I will see what I can do."