The Harbor [Post here first]

[Anaius V Silcharion]

32nd of Winter, 512. The waves foamed and slapped up against the hull of the ship as it clove through their ranks with all the ease of a sword through flesh, though it seemed that the nearer it grew to its destination, the more dulled and muted the ceaseless battle of wave upon wood seemed. Its passenger imagined that most things would appear drained of their colour, vigour and appeal to the residents of the island before him, so long had they watched the grains of sand trickle by. The wind was no harsher than a simple breeze yet it seemed to clutch at the skin, greedy to snatch away the precious warmth it held. Little wonder, Anaius thought, that the island had garnered for itself such a fell and unnatural reputation. Simpler folk had a habit of attributing such traits to a mere location, however, and the tall young man who stood with such regal bearing knew himself to be above paltry superstitions. As he drew nearer to the island’s port, he found himself casting his mind back to the journey that had brought him to this point. An uneventful one, the entire affair had been rather lacklustre and subdued, much like the men who crewed the vessel in which he had made the voyage from Zeltiva. Oh, he had tried to pry from them any discernible positive qualities or hidden facets with which they might prove more valuable than the rest of the dross that populated this world but as ever even his impressive charm could not uncover what was not there. The sailors had mostly left him to his own devices throughout the journey unless he sought them out, which he did often enough in order to pass the time with hopefully mildly interesting discourse. Alas, he had discovered that the intellectual value of that discussion was very much up for debate; Not that he imagined his sea-kissed companions were the type to be overly eager to participate in such an exercise as debate. Indeed, what little conversation he could wrest from their tight-lipped mouths amounted to repeated warnings of what awaited those foolish enough to set foot upon the island, to which he told them that their concern was touching and reassured them that he knew what he was doing. He had heard all about the myriad dangers and hazards that awaited upon the isle from a large number of sources on his way to Zeltiva, not to mention the horror stories he had been told of those who actually managed to worm their way into the closeted, clammy embrace of the island’s inhabitants. Tireless servitude was expected of them from their undead masters who showed little to no care as to their requirement for basic needs such as food. Even then, tales abounded of those who had thought themselves firmly entrenched within Sahova, veritably invaluable to the Nuits only to be cast out, killed or thrown into the dungeons to be tortured for as long as their will to live could hold. The unnatural silence of the port was heavy and oppressive as the vessel drew near, with a blanket of fog obscuring much from vision. It seemed as if even the island itself held no welcome for those with blood pulsing through their veins. The man standing before the prow of the ship allowed himself a small curve of the lips; He knew that his will to live would hold as long as was necessary to achieve his desires here, and he knew that he would leave this island alive and with the knowledge and power he so thirsted for. First, however, he had to actually set foot upon it and meet with its storied denizens. As the ship came to a stop alongside the pier, the sailors case their lines and went about the usual routine of docking with movements long since mastered. Making his way to his allotted cabin the dark haired gentleman gathered together his few belongings and emerged a short time later, traveller’s chest in tow. With curt farewells from the captain and crew, he set off down along the gangplank at an easy pace, cold blue eyes focusing immediately upon the Communicator golem that awaited them. The thick soles of his polished black boots thudded hollowly upon the wooden planks of the pier, the steady, purposeful rhythm slowing to a halt before the peculiar construct. The rather plain looking contraption sat upon six wheels, upon which was placed a large metallic cylinder that had two other cylinders attached to it in a rather graceless facsimile of arms. Focusing upon the ‘head’ of the golem, the tall man dressed in impressively stylish finery canted his head to one side as he listed to the creature’s monotonous tone. "Welcome to Sahova," it stated, though there was no warmth in the greeting, and continued, "identify yourselves and state the purpose of your visit. If you are carrying cargo, provide a full description and unload a sample for evaluation. Any passengers wishing to be escorted to the Citadel must approach me and apply for permission." With a broad smile, the likes of which had won him many an admiring look from young women over the years and which would have as much effect upon the golem as smiling at a rock, the Human complied in a rich baritone, saying “Thank you for the welcome, my fine golem. I am Anaius Valerious Silcharion, a practitioner of Magecraft and Auristics, and my purpose here is to further my research and perhaps to aid the masters of Sahova in theirs, should they desire it to be so.” Pulling his trunk forward, Anaius turned and crouched before it, flipping open the lid and extracting from within a cobalt shirt of pure silk. “A sample of my clothing, which is all this chest contains. Within are six shirts; two silk and four linen, three pairs of linen undergarments and a fine pair of black leather shoes.” Straightening, he turned back to the golem, smiling once more as he gestured at the long handle protruding from behind his shoulder. “And this is my greatsword, which is encased in a scabbard and shall remain so unless it is requested otherwise. Is there anything else, dear golem?” After a few moments of silence while it presumably scanned the clothes for anything undesirable, the golem instructed Anaius to proceed to the carriage which would take him to the Vestibule and there he would be deemed either worthy or unworthy, as the gatekeeper saw fit.

[Malefic]

512 AV, Winter 13

Malefic inhaled a deep breath, though he didn't need it. He yawned loudly, though he was not tired. He stretched his dead limbs, though he felt no need. He merely enjoyed to imitate the living, and watch their confusion. Snickering to himself, he leaned gingerly over the wooden rail of the galley, overlooking the thousands upon thousands of waves that lapped against the shore of the deceased island.

The bustling sailors milled about their duties, shouting commands to one another, pulling ropes taut, and a few taking voluminous swigs of seaweed grog. The gentle swaying of the ship made him feel strange. Still, even after several days of being at sea, he felt uncomfortable about the incessant swaying, and the horrid smell of the salty sea. But that didn't matter any more. He was about to arrive at his paradise. The wondrous gray clouds blocked out the sun, leaving a dull mist to linger over the shores of the island. The sea seemed to be drained of color upon approaching the plot of land ahead. The absence of wind, and the stillness of everything made him feel ecstatic inside. He faked a smile that seemed genuine enough for the sailors. Or at least the best smile he could muster. To the seamen, it would appear to this like the mischievous grin of a serial killer, for he was a walking corpse, not a living being. And thankful for that.

His smile obscured the true hatred he had for the living. They stared at him like he was an...object. Like he was a stain of dirt upon the gallant white tunic that was their ship. But he cared not. Their fate was sealed, by him. Most likely, they wouldn't notice the oil poured around the base of their ship, and the trail of flammable string leading to the ship's fireplace. He smiled wider, revealing a set of grisly yellow teeth. Their comfort decreased instantly and his gleeful happiness increased greatly. The loud sound of wood clacking against the rocky shore reached his dead ears. "We've arrived...at last..." His raspy voice ground on the nerves of the lowly humans about him.
The gangplank, it turned out to be. Staring down at it, he blinked at it's flimsiness. Shrugging, he strolled casually down the gangplank, whistling to himself, and ignoring all the calls for him to stay on board the ship. He simply scowled at them and stood at the tip of the plank, awaiting the golems. He sighed like a human, tapping his foot impatiently against the gangplank. "Hurry the hell up..."

The Communicator was not a fancy golem. It could do one thing, and one thing only, but it could do it well. "Welcome to Sahova," it would speak in a slow, repetitive voice that smelled of metal and gears, "identify yourselves and state the purpose of your visit. If you are carrying cargo, provide a full description and unload a sample for evaluation. Any passengers wishing to be escorted to the Citadel must approach me and apply for permission."

He eyed the golem up and down. Leaning forward, he spoke up close and personally to it. "I'm interested in becoming an inhabitat of this... gorgeous island you have here. My only good is my intention, and will to make the best of being a citizen here..." He chuckled maliciously and offhandedly motioned back to the ship. " Oh, and they're selling corpses." He casually stepped off the gangplank, and onto the dead earth of his newly found sanctuary. Sahova. He proceeded by dancing over to the carriage and hopping in, putting his feet up on the front. "C'mon, take me over yonder to that castle place. Malefic waved to one of the golems.

[Nascha Owl]

Timestamp: 85th, Winter, 512 AV

Nascha silently stepped of the ship, she let her eyes wonder to all the other residents of the boat. Their cut up bodies looked gruesome in the light. She stood near the ship lookinat the little amount of people on the dock. She took a deep breathe and stretched her tired limbs. While most of the ride she slept, her back and arms were sore. When her limbs were finally stretched out she stepped towards the golem. She smiled at the golem before saying in a nice voice, "I'm Nascha, I'm looking for work." She pronounced clearly for the golem, rubbing to back of her neck. The golem looked really unique.

[Obadiah Kairn]

Timestamp: 85th, Winter, 513 AV

Obadiah Kairn stepped off the ship, walking down the few creaking wooden steps and set foot on the docks. Before him was a place he had not seen for hundreds of years: A desolate place, devoid of life, devoid of humanity. He had heard the rumors, of course, he had heard what his "fellow people" had been up to. A Citadel? A place of magic? He had laughed out loud! The Nuit forming a community! Ha! The only thing Nuit were good for was living alone, suffering alone and dying alone! But it seemed he was wrong. His own solitude had driven him beyond the point of insanity, though he liked to think he hid it well. He had managed to discipline himself these past months, gaining more and more self control. It had taken several lifetimes, but now, finally, he could actually do something. He could pursue the goals of his old life, he could study, create, research.

He doubted his overlords would be pleased if they knew what his ultimate goal was. But he would have to risk it. He had been out of the game too long, he needed to reaquire the skills he once possessed, and no other wizards would be willing to teach a Nuit. Even the Nuit would probably be far from willing, he knew he would probably be subject to all sorts of tests to see if he was worthy. He wasn't worried about that. He had survived for over five centuries in this barren realm in which pain and suffering walked hand in hand as they inflict their curses onto anyone and everyone.

The Golem arrived. He had seen Golems before. He had witnessed what Golems could do to a man, and he had not survived all this time by being brave. He knew that, had he a heart, it would be racing as the massive thing loomed over him.

"Welcome to Sahova, identify yourselves and state the purpose of your visit. If you are carrying cargo, provide a full description and unload a sample for evaluation. Any passengers wishing to be escorted to the Citadel must approach me and apply for permission."

Obadiah raised his head. He knew that his life was in the hands of this lifeless shell, and he didn't like that thought. One mistake on his part, or a misinterpretation on the Golem's part, and it would be all over for him. He uttered out his few sentences, trying to sound normal. He didn't really notice if he did or not, he was focused on the other Golems that walked the docks, just looking for trouble.

"Obadiah Kairn, here to request an Aprenticeship of the Nuit of Sahova. I wish to be escorted to the Citadel."

Short and to the point. Hopefully the Golem would appreciate that. Not that this mere whisper of life feels anything, let alone appreciates.

[Piat Kalmo]

3rd Spring 513 AV

Piat slowly walked to the edge of the pier and then turned. Facing him was a large golem
"I am here to pursue a career in alchemy" he stated very clearly

[Marlay]

1st of Spring 513 AV

It was a nasty place really, she heard rumors of it through the Zeltivian University but she never imagined it to be as horrible a place as they claimed. But when she got there the place was quiet, and gloomy nothing could be heard just silence. The little sorceress that could felt uneasy, so much so she had an urge to jump off that ship and paddle herself back to Zeltiva. Of course that wasnt an option considering her expulsion, they lacked creativity just a bunch of fire ball flinging mongrals is what they were. They couldnt see her potential what she was on the brink of, or perhaps they did and barred her off in fear of her dark and terrible power she may one day aquire. But time for hate had its place, and this was not it.

Off the boat she went and she was confronted with a machine, now this was fascinating. It was asking a couple of questions, but his mechanical aspects filled her to the brim with delight. She marveled, going over its design, it even had a smell of foreign things like grease and exhaust.

Now it finally asked the question that applied to herself.

I am Marlay I wish to venture to the Citadel, ive heard a great many things about its masters. I was once a student at Zeltiva, I was expelled due to me delving into leaching. I believe im on the verge of a break through, ill commit my Glyphing and Shielding to better serve its masters.

[Rokia]

1st of Spring, 513 AV

Rokia was here at last, Sahova the home of the undead mages. He was here for one thing and one thing only, to seek out a master in alchemy. It wasn't pleasant here, the air held some dark power over him, but his spirits were already low. He sighed loudly as the golem approached him, letting out its usual message to the newcomer.

"I am here to be apprenticed under an alchemist," he said in a clear and monotone voice as he raised the side of his cloak. Revealing the few items that he had carried here. Dread was what he felt as he left the docks, had this been a mistake? No, he was here by choice and that choice was final, whatever happened was his own fault and his own doing, no regret.

[Xaldin Seras]

Summer 14AV

Sometimes the captain wondered how he got into this business in the first place. He had always wanted to be an honorable captain who brought cargo from one part of Alahea to the next with a dependable crew and a healthy payoff for his wares. While he was indeed an honorable captain his crew was less to be desired. Of course when your transporting dead bodies one cannot expect to find most sane people open to join your ship.
Their destination was Sahova. This island was one of the creepiest and dangerous places he had ever encountered. No man would choose to live there. No food grew there and no one who resided in Sahova really needed to eat. They were not alive after all.
Well he shouldn't say 'no man' since he had found an exception in this matter. He was a scrawny boy of about fourteen years of age. The captain had tried everything to make the boy change his mind about going to this place of death but he was adamant and even offered a healthy sum of money to simply stay on the ship until it crossed. The years had dulled his sense of ethics though and with a heavy heart he had taken the boy onto his ship.
The boys name was Xaldin. He was very thin and pale with black hair and eyes and seemed to look like he was undead already. Though the captain had harbored him on his ship for the entire voyage he had not learned much about him. Xaldin rarely ever spoke but always seemed deep in brooding thought even when at chores.
That was not far from the truth. Xaldin had been preparing himself for this trip for a few years now. His family worked in the mines of Sunberth carving out their daily wadges underground. They had wanted their son to follow in the family business. He was not what they had expected him to be though. Unlike his brothers who were tall and strong with normal aspirations Xaldin was short, lanky and had a shifty look about him. Whats more he wanted to learn magic.
They tried so hard to beat these troublesome thoughts out of their sons head and make him like the rest of him that eventually he became the families punching bag. He never stopped his thoughts of being a great wielder of magic, but as he got older they stopped being childish fantasies and started being something dark and disturbing. Looking at life in Sunberth made him hate life in general. Men grew up and died with the only mark they had left being in the mines they had dug in all their lives. They would not be remembered in a few generations and would not even show up in the history books. They were boring and meaningless. Xaldin wanted nothing to do with that life at all, nor did he want anything to do with living in general.

Xaldin wanted to join the ranks of the undead Nuit's as an apprentice. While he knew nothing of magic except for some unreliable hearsay he knew if he was given the opportunity he could learn. He could barely sleep on this ship and did not have the legs for the way it rocked back and forth but that did not bother him. He would be in a new body eventually and his dreams would become reality.

The island looked just as inhospitable as the sailors and captain had told him. The harbor was ran by Golems. He was fascinated by them. He knew he wanted to learn how to create those, maybe take a small army of them back to Sunberth and show his family what its like to get pounded on all the time. They were varied in shape and size, most of them moving around on wheels and carried little resemblance to a human.

As the shipped docked a few golems made of metal rolled towards the ship and stopped
"State your buisness" echoed a metallic voice from them.
"We have cargo for the citadel and an individual looking to be an apprentice" the captain called down. The golem's did not seemed enthused, of course how can rolling hunks of metal look anything but neutral in expression.
"Proceed" They dully replied

When Xaldin stepped onto the land he was directed to go up the dirt path. His heart was racing though he didn't know if it was excitement or foreboding that made it beat so. He did not care though, he had made it this far and he was going to see this through to the end.

[Albitau Redeye]

5th of Spring, 513

Albitau clung to the railing of the wildly rolling and pitching ship like a drowning rat. His ruby eyes were shut tightly closed, his teeth gritted in rage as his white hair whipped around. He could feel the earth rising up underneath him, then plunging him downward in a hail of seawater. He was drenched from head to foot, somewhere his gelding was screaming in the hold below. The frantic shouts of the crew and the suspicious groaning of the ship like a harpooned animal.

The albino had attached himself to one of the rails near the mizzenmast on the gun deck. At first he had roared at the crew to get their own goddamn ship under control, but now he was realizing just what a bad situation they were in. He had one leg curled around the railing, and dared to open his eyes. He looked down almost on instinct, and saw the sea fall away below them, the back half of the ship rising up on the back of a wave. His stomach rose up into his throat as they crashed back down, raining freezing water down on the deck.

He'd been informed they'd been blown off course, as the captain had been shrieking like a banshee at the navigator for the past ten minutes. They were somewhere north, not at all where they had been headed! The ship from Cyphrus was supposed to be headed south, but the storm gale had been herding them slowly and persistently north for half a day, determined to chew the ship to pieces. Albitau heard a terrifying groaning of the mizzenmast above him, and lifted his head. The sails were whipping around angrily, torn free from the mast. With a rip one of the sails flew off into the darkness, and the mizzenmast cracked. Albitau threw himself from the railing, scrambling down the gun deck onto the main. Here he could barely keep his feet, seawater sloshed back and forth. The shrieking of his horse was only making matters worse.

Albitau looked back at where he had been clinging and saw the mizzenmast slowly fall toward the main. The two great pieces of timber crashed into one another, shards whistling off into the blowing wind and rain. The timbers beneath him were shuddering, the entire ship groaning. Albitau ran down the stairs past the galley, then into the hold itself. His horse had torn free of his halter and was standing knock-kneed in the middle of the hold, bellowing his displeasure. The rocking here was worst; the human could feel how the sea crashed and beat against the bottom of the boat. Here and there cracks were spraying water into the hold.
"Calm the hell down you stupid bastard!" Albitau roared at the gelding. He knew the animal wouldn't dare rear with his feet being unstable as it was, but his eyes were wide and rolling and his legs were shaking more than the ship. The albino grabbed the horse by the forelock and yanked his head down to look him in the eye. "We're getting out of here, but you have to be sane and not fucking kick me, right?" he snarled. The gelding panted, his nostrils flaring and foam around the corners of his mouth. Terror had taken over his entire being.

Albitau heard the ship groan again and the frantic shouts of the men above. He heard something large smash against the side of the ship and he let go of the gelding, grabbing a fistful of his mane and beginning to slowly lead him toward the stairs. The gelding refused to move at first, his neck straining toward his master, but Albitau yanked roughly and the gelding followed. More cracks were appearing in the hold, and Albitau had no choice but to be rougher on the terrified animal. When they finally reached the main deck his blood ran cold. The lifeboat had been lowered and had promptly been swung against the side of the ship like it had been punched, and had buckled part of the hold.

He looked forward in the gloom and saw hope. Less than a mile away was the dark outline of an island on the horizon against the extremely early morning. Albitau didn't have a chance to consider his options. A loud roar overtook his hearing and the horse tore free of his grasp, leaving him with a hunk of hair for the split second before the wave swept both of them off the deck.

•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•


When Albitau awoke he was laying on something soft, and cold. Warm winds blew over his body, though seawater still bathed his legs. He lifted himself up on his arms, feeling burns along his lower arms and hands from exposure. He spat out sand and opened his eyes, looking at the sparse treeline in front of him. He slowly rose to his feet, hair half dry. That told him he'd been laying there for a few hours. The sun was still rising, not not enough to cause severe damage to his albino skin but enough to give him a bit of reddening. He swore at the sight. He was not going to turn into a stringy piece of leather like a Zeltivan.

His horse.

He looked around frantically. There was no sign of the gelding. His heart fell until he saw a rather jagged line of hoof prints leading into the sparse vegetation. So he'd made it out alive, though gods only knew what was on this island. Wolves, worse? Albitau took a mental stock of himself. He still had his pack, and the tent was still tightly rolled up inside. He sat down on a rock and opened it. Everything was drenched. His food supply of dried meat and tinned bread had survived, and he thanked the gods he'd had the presence of mind to follow the Zeltivans' advice about tinning food against seawater. He unrolled the tent and layed it out on the rock, doing the same with his other things to get them to dry in the hot sun. He pulled out his brush and razor, laying them on a large flat rock. He couldn't let the razor rust. Speaking of rust...he looked down at his swordbelt, and fear clenched around his throat. Where was the sword?

He shrieked in rage and threw down his pack, running along the beach. Pieces of broken wood, bits of rope were scattered here and there. The sword he found resting on the beach in the sun, and he snatched it up and drew it. A small gout of water came out, and his rage notched up. If he let the sword rust he'd never forgive himself. He seized a piece of sailcloth that had dried and scrubbed the blade until he couldn't see any more water on it. A half mile more down the beach and the broken husk of the ship came into view. With it, bodies.

Albitau pursed his lips and looked at the few pale, dead men laying in the sun. Seabirds were already coming to take their fill, nipping at eyes and tearing off lips and fingers. He sneered at the sight and stomped over to kick the corpse of the one he recognized as the captain. "Steered us into a storm you stupid bastard!" he kicked him again and drew his sword, bringing it down on the Zeltivan's neck. The head rolled away into the water cleanly and the birds chased after it, cawing and fighting over the exposed meat. Albitau spat on the man's corpse. "Stupid Zeltivans. Some sailors." he looked at the ship, cracked open and laying teetered on its side in the sun like a broken coconut. "Let him go to Sylira, they said. He needs world experience, they said." he spat at the ship, angry at his own clan for unloading him. They'd told him to explore the world, to come back to them when he'd learned to control himself. Well he was off to a bloody good start now wasn't he?

He had to find his horse. First and foremost. He took one more angry look at the headless body of the captain and stomped back down to his belongings. To his surprise, the gelding was roaming around, sniffing at his pack and looking hideously lost. At the sight of his master stomping down the beach in a dark mood, the gelding meekly slid up to him and butted his head against Albitau's chest. "You stink." Albitau shoved his head away and examined his pack. It was on the way to drying, but now he had a bigger concern; fresh water.

He looked around the beach, the scrubland beyond. "Where the hell am I?" he wondered aloud, lifting a hand to rake his iridescent hair back from his head. The horse whuffled piteously.

[Valus]

10th of Spring, 513 AV

Valus looked at the golem, not exactly surprised that this was how the wizards of Sahova chose to greet newcomers. The rest of the crew, mortals all of them, looked extremely confused by the metallic thing's presence even the captain looked a little mystified. The Nuit snorted, the sound distorted by his metallic mask, such little things had ceased to surprise him centuries ago. The captain quickly relayed what his cargo was, and also gestured to Valus indicating that he was a passenger.

The masked wizard left the ship via gangplank and approached the golem.

"I am known as Valus, a Nuit of the former Alahea Empire. I seek apprenticeship in the citadel of Sahova, that I may continue my research here in solitude." The undead stated to the golem.

The golem was silent for a moment no doubt working out an automated response.

"There is a carriage that will take you to the Vestibule, from there you may apply for apprenticeship." The thing said, a clear sign of approval if ever there was one.

Valus gave a curt nod and headed to the carriage at the edge of the harbor, not sparing another thought to the ship he had arrived on. The captain had owed Valus a favor from sometime back, this was simply how he had chosen to cash it in. The terrain around the harbor looked very jagged and rocky, though considering the age of the island that should come as no surprise. Hopefully the carriage ride up would not be too unpleasant.

The so called carriage possessed no horses and was rather aged and weathered. Truly it was unimpressive to say the least, however all Valus really cared about was it getting him up to his goal. He wished to get this apprenticeship formality out of the way as quickly as he was able so he could begin his research anew. Not glancing back once at the ship, the Nuit stepped inside the carriage, his sweeping robes not hindering him over much.

After a long while the carriage came to life, moving along the bumpy path to the Citadel. It was likely another golem, Valus surmised as the carriage rode along. The ride to the Vestibule was likely to be long, as such the Nuit allowed his mind to wander to his research. At the moment he was worried about combining certain metals to yield more powerful metal, unfortunately he had lacked the facilities or money to continue the research, thus here he was travelling to the citadel of Sahova.

Not only would this be an excellent place for him to continue his research into crossing the disciplines of Alchemy and Magecrafting, but it would likely help in furthering his knowledge of other disciplines. The possibilities were endless, and Valus looked very much forward to setting foot in the citadel as quickly as possible. This long into his unlife there were very few things that really surprised him any more, hopefully he would find them here.

_________________________________________________________________

Time was something that Nuit had in abundance, as such the 5 mile trip to the citadel was a blink of an eye in the opinion of an immortal. Valus was not overly impatient, he had all the time in the world so long as he had a fresh supply of bodies. He had passed the time by thinking up new theories on alchemical research that he had yet to explore, most involving simple equations and components. A particular interesting theory he thought of involved returning human bodies to their base elements, an experiment in deconstruction he would have to try if given the chance.

Occasionally his train of thought was interrupted by a large bump in the road or a strange animal calling, but it always returned to the focus of his attention; Alchemy. At least until he laid eyes upon the Citadel proper, which was a very impressive sight to say the least. It immediately brought back memories of an age never seen by the eyes of mortals today, when the Alahea Empire was at the height of its glory. Valus' eyes widened a fraction of an inch, the closest thing to surprise he had shown in over a century. It was a great sight to be sure, he could only wonder what secrets laid inside.

The carriage came to a halt and the immortal alchemist stepped out, his eyes still firmly planted on the massive structure before him. Valus knew right then that he had made the right decision in coming here, without laying eyes upon anything inside. Such an ancient place surely possessed a wealth of knowledge and power, things which were inherently connected in the Wizard's opinion. He spared a last glance to the carriage before heading towards the steps that led up into the Citadel of Sahova.