[University of Zeltiva] Halls (Hrair, Hadrian and...

[Hrair Ansoub]

As the hag increased the intensity of her chanting in response to the young scholars counter charm Hrair brought his hands to his eyes. Dark twisted visions of death, pestilence and war melded with his mind. Try as he might he could not free himself from the visions. Hrair knew they were not far off the end of the alley and if he could regain his faculty's he would be able to outrun the woman. Hrair squeeled in pain as the visions burned into his brain.

Once again he repeated his pleas for help from his com padre.

[Hadrian]

Finally desperate enough to break human taboo, he pushed res out of his hands, along his ice-dagger and into the wound in her neck, pouring more and more liquid winter into her until she should become so hard and brittle that a breath of wind might shatter her. She resisted, of course, her flesh turning blue but refusing to submit. When frost began to appear on her skin and her movements became more stiff, he acted.

"Hit her, Hrair!"

[Hrair Ansoub]

Hrair's mind cleared and he hit the old hag hard across the back with the length of his arm. There was no effect so Hrair hit out again, harder this time. The frozen woman snapped across the middle and an unearthly squeal followed, rather like a fork being drawn across a plate. The pieces of frozen hag fell to the floor.

"She should learn to chill out" said Hrair. He was secretly flabbergasted by the display he had just witnessed. He had never before seen anything like that and was quite astounded. "We should get out of here" he said pushing the young mage towards the exit to the alley. Then remembering what he had just seen he ceased to push Hadrian, instead gesturing towards the exit. "Come on!" he exclaimed "we don't want to hang around here." The pair made their way towards the exit.

"Say, how on Mizahar did you do that?" He was starting to feel unnerved by the coldness of his companion.

[Hadrian]

When Hrair finally got his act together, they managed between the two of them to vanquish the... scary old woman? Is that what she was? An unprovoked attack when Hrair just wanted a drink, that was strange. He stared hard at her broken corpse with his vision augmented by auristics, but didn't dally long when Hrair was ready to go.

He didn't drop the heightened sense for their departure, trying to be forewarned against any upcoming danger by scanning one aura at a time, one after another. So far nothing.

"It's called reimancy," he said quietly. "I'm not very good at it. Except... apparently... when old petching bitches decide to claw my face off... Then instinct takes over or something."

He touched hesitantly at his face.

"Am I bleeding?"

[Hrair Ansoub]

"Yes" replied Hrair, "and that looks quite nasty, you should get it seen to. It looks like she has done some damage and it doesn't look quite right somehow" Hrair examined the wound closely and shrugged. "Yes, you should definitely get someone who knows what they are doing to have a look at that." The happy go lucky Hrair suddenly looked genuinely concerned for the young enchanter. "It almost looks like...nah" Hrair thought something then stopped. He changed the subject quickly. Scars and writing were not his strong point.

The pair found their way out of the alley and towards the kelp bar.

"guess the first round is on me eh" said Hrair shaking his pocket. "I'm starting to get a taste for this Kelp beer, it's not bad is it? Puts hairs on your chest, makes me feel like I have the strength of ten"

Hrair noticed Hadrian did not look too keen.

"S'ok" reassured Hrair, "I'm paying, and I promise not to cause any trouble tonight"

The pair stepped into the bar and Hrair cast his eye around the place. He did not recognise anyone fortunately. He stepped up to the bar and the young serving wench smiled politely. "Hey up love" said Hrair, his eyes firmly fixed on the wenches chest. "two kelp beers please"

Hrair handed a mug to his companion. Hrair thanked the wench with a wink. She smiled politely and moved off to serve another customer. A rather wisened looking old gentleman with a white beard propping up the end of the bar.

"Say how long did it take you to learn how to do that ice thing, that is a neat trick that might come in handy sometime...is that what they call res? you'll have to teach me sometime..." Hrair paused. "say, you look a bit peaky..." Hrair examined the young enchanter's scar more closely. "you really should get that looked at, it looks sore."

[Hadrian]

Hadrian decided that he wouldn't stay long; he would have the one drink and then go to the infirmary to have his face looked at. For now he tried not to touch it. No bar towel would be absolutely clean, and he wasn't sure the alcohol content of the kelp beer would counteract the kelp of it, so it probably wouldn't do to clean his wounds with that.

"The ice thing was sort of a fluke. It was res. I can call up water, which has never seemed all that useful until recently. I managed to make it icy to put on someone's burn a couple weeks ago... and then... tonight." He shuddered. "I always wished I could control fire, but the last time I tried to force the issue, it didn't go well."

He drank deep of his kelp beer, just wanting the night to be over.

"I'm going to go after this drink, Hrair. No hard feelings, but I want to get this looked at and go to bed. Anyway, I have a lot of planning to do to make your blood-compass, so..."

He smiled a little, trying not to wince at the pain it caused.

[Book__wyrm]

Hadrian: 3 reimancy
Lore: Fighting petching old hags.

Hrair: 1 unarmed fighting
Lore: Reimancy (very basic)

Question. Why is an old hag randomly trying to kill you? Am I missing something here?

[Hadrian]

Beats me. Hrair's player started throwing that in there so I just ran with it. Now he's gone so we might never know!