Topic: Institute of Arcane Principle -- Acquisition Challenge

Arkon Daraul

Date: 2010-01-21 09:28 EST
http://i836.photobucket.com/albums/zz281/AukaiMastema/megillah.jpg

The scrolled parchment would appear before you, hanging in the air until acknowledged by your gaze. Upon receiving recognition it would spin in a corkscrew circuit, unraveling slowly to reveal the lengths of its tattered facade, blank at first, though after a moment of patience quickly filling with cuneiform script that would slowly bleed into a language more akin to your understanding.


http://i836.photobucket.com/albums/zz281/AukaiMastema/scroll-stock-small.jpg


This is a challenge for the Students of the Institute of Arcane Principle!


The Dragon Bone Acquisition.

Must be at least two and a half meters in length from a dragon aged beyond its juvenile year. The challenge is mandatory -- all must participate -- and the first one to return with the acquired item will be given the honor of Primoris Discipulus, or first student, as well as the privilege of assisting with the crafting of the bone into a relic.

The Challenge shall begin on the 22nd day of January and run through the 25th day*.

Good luck.

Mastema Arkon Daraul











(*Please see OOC folder for rules.)

Tia'tari Blayne

Date: 2010-01-21 18:50 EST
A tendril of hair would have escaped from the knot that she had secured her waist-length hair with. Spilling free to tickle across the parchment that she studied. The air around her was stifling, a dry heat of suffocating proportions, in part due to the location of this room to the boiler room of the new Institute, and to the various substances bubbling, cooling, or mixing in the assorted vials around her.

Arcadius wound his black form through the assorted bottles, pipes, and cauldrons, sniffing delicately and disdainfully as only a cat can. Before with a spring he would launch himself at her dangling hair, skidding across the parchment in his efforts to capture the prize.

A surprised cry would echo in the small chamber as she launched herself back from the workbench and the clinking vials. With a spill there,a mix here, and the right amount of commotion there he could very easily have erased them both from existence.

"Arcadius!"

From her newfound position upon the tiled floor, her skirts puddled around her and hair askew, she would glare up at her misbehaving furball.

"I can't believe you'd do that!"

He'd look pitiful, crouched as he was on the table. Apologetically miserable and delightfully adorable.

With a roll of her eyes she would pick herself up and dust herself off,albeit carefully with consideration to the materials she came in contact with. Her love of alchemy had benefited her for years, sending her to the top of her classes at the Academy.

She had hoped it would turn out to be useful here in her new home at the Institute. After watching the duels at Twilight Island on two separate occasions she had discovered that to truly be recognized here one must refine their battling skills. She'd start with potions to make her quicker, smarter, more agile, thicker skinned.

The young woman who had spoken with her the other night had inspired Tia to enter. Querylon had seemed like such a shy, reserved young mage and yet had not hesitated to throw herself into the rings and give it a try.

An odd arcane whisper would have her looking over her shoulder at the door, the sensation that she was not alone in this abandoned part of the building unnerving her. But nothing was there. With a shuddery little sigh of apprehensive laughter she would turn back to her work only to find herself looking directly at a floating silver scroll.

She'd read it through twice before a frown would descend and she'd whisper, "a dragon bone?"

"A dragon bone." She'd repeat... gray eyes widening in dismay, however am I going to accomplish that?

Celeth Vindra

Date: 2010-01-22 16:11 EST
Those arriving and leaving the institute since Celeth's meeting with the Archmage would notice a large sky-blue crystalline object occupying a space in the southern courtyard. Nearly sixty feet long and over thirty feet wide, the shell was plain and unadorned, seemingly carved from a single great stone. Since his arrival on RhyDin less than a month ago, the ship has served as his residence, and rather than take up a room or office within in the institute, Celeth chose to bring his own.

The previous night had been quite eventful, and in a rare display of sloth, Celeth's rest carried throughout the morning. The sun was near its peak when the vessel's door finally opened, a simple narrow staircase folding down to touch ground. As the man descended, he surveyed the premises for the first time in the light of day.

The Archmage had done well for himself, Celeth mused, observing the compound's activity as the door closed behind him. Servants bustled about their myriad menial tasks while several magi, most youthful in appearance, practiced incantations or discussed everything from complex methodology to the latest insipid gossip. Frozen eyes glossed idly over those gathered with a mark lacked of interest for now, however - Celeth had relocated here for a specific reason, and he saw no purpose in wasting time.

Footprints of solid ice marked his trail as he crossed the courtyard, but just before he reached the tall doors to the main hall, his attention was drawn by the sudden appearance of a scroll before his eyes. A curious quirk of the eyebrow was his only reaction as the written language shifted to the complex runic system of his homeland, complete with the unique dialect of the Solarfall isles. Frivolous as this display of magic may be, Celeth could not deny the Archmage's sense of style.

As he read the message's contents, however, orbs of ice rolled back into his head. This motion, although familiar amongst humanoids, was particularly disturbing in Celeth's case, as his 'eyes' rotated a full 360 degrees before he dismissed the magical parchment with a slight wave of his hand.

"Did we not speak already of such patronizing games, Archmage?" His voice was soft and did not carry, although the man knew his words would reach their intended audience. Meanwhile, chatter had started again amongst the students; some were daunted by the task at hand, while others summoned their best show of bravado. In either case, Celeth was not impressed.

Regardless of his obvious contempt, he gave a measure of thought to the challenge. He'd met dragons in battle during the defense of Ethos and again during the sack of Sintherrata. His knowledge of their skills and tactics could be invaluable, but it occurred to him that simply handing that knowledge to these apprentices would compromise the exercise.

Only one thing remained to consider, and Celeth did so with a derisive smirk: Whether or not it was worth his time to find and kill a dragon.

Celeth Vindra

Date: 2010-01-22 16:36 EST
((Damn it, "Quote" is not "Edit" ...and it won't let me delete this for some reason. Can a mod get rid of this please? ;) ))

Elkinid'qualn Teken'irrt

Date: 2010-01-23 12:09 EST
"Elka..." The man said, breaking away from the failed attempt, frustration contorting his features in some sort of pain as he read the name on the small piece of parchment, a wide finger giving a habitual push of his thin-rimmed glasses to rest them higher upon the bridge of his nose. "Elkahnidi....?"

"Elkinid." The peculiar elf corrected, rising from his seat upon the long bench among the other apprentice wizards waiting for their names to be called. "Elkinid'qualn Teken'irrt."

The glower he was met with showed that the attendant didn't appreciate such a convoluted pronunciation. The man turned abruptly with the sole of his boot squeaking across the smooth floor, and started away down the long, square hallway. "This way."

The tawny embers of his dubious stare lit beneath the easy dismissal, a response that he had become quite familiar with since coming to these lands. In the place where he had previously called home he was a rarity, the offspring of a high elf and dark elf, a spawn whose existence was thought to be virtually impossible. His arrival in Rhy'din made him reevaluate this stance of such pointless perceptions quickly, seeing as how the unique and exceptional were the normative stock.

The wave of an outstretched hand brought his bags to life, their bottoms sprouting thin, sinewy legs that propelled them into motion following him as he started forward in step behind the attendant.

The room was simple, four white walls and a small window, the smooth pane of glass marred with a spider web crack expanding from a diminutive point near the corner. A pair of beds were positioned upon the astride walls, opposing one another, with traditionally plain lockers at the foot. Aside from these standard fixtures, there was nothing else.

"Excuse me," Elkinid said, slowly turning to bring the attendant back into view. "Where is my desk?"

The man nearly barked out a laugh and again pushed his glasses up his nose. "Why it's right over there next to your starter spell book and beginner wand."

Elkinid kept his expression steady, refusing to indulge the urge and look to see if there really were the items the man described. "I do not find your sarcasm amusing."

"Yea, well I feel the same way about your ignorance." The attendant took a single step to the side so the trio of crawling bags could make their way into the room. "A wizard's desk is a powerful tool. We don't just hand them out. If you want a desk, you need to make it." He paused so that doubtful eyes could survey the young elf. "And I'd suggest finding an instructor to help you. I would hate for you to blow yourself up."
Elkinid said nothing as the attendant departed with a grunting laugh that echoed down the hall. He had expected a desk. During his novitiate semester back home he was given a desk, just a simple wooden structure where he could focus his talent away from the eyes of others. His desk had been his island of reliance and resource, and without it, he wasn't sure where to even begin.

Perhaps some sleep would help. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken a meaningful reverie that resulted in both mental and physical rejuvenation.

He turned to close the door and found himself face to face with a sterling silver scroll case floating at eye level. He gave a quick glance to each side, looking down the hall as far as he could without stepping past the hovering tube to see who had left the item, though its owner was not apparent.

Of its own manipulation the case began to unroll, the empty papyrus spewed forth. The assortment of foreign script caught his interest, though as it became clear that the magical ledger was simply scrolling through a variety of languages to find one that he understood, he was a touch crestfallen. He enjoyed the deciphering of ancient characters and writings, and found the translating of mythical text exhilarating beyond reason. His muse, it was.

He carefully read through the assignment three times; the first for the initial discerning, the second for possible omissions, and the third for any abstruse meaning or allusions. He liked to think that his thoroughness was born of scrupulous focus, but in reality, it was based around a jittery excitement that often caused simple oversights to occur as his mind raced with fascination and ideas halfway through whatever topic or verse he was reading.

"Dragon bone." He said confidently. "This should be fun."

Angelica Rose

Date: 2010-01-23 15:43 EST
Now why did her mother get the bright idea that she needed these lessons? The young woman had been more than content to train her shadow skills with Bintyl. The ways of the assassin was more comforting to the young one. Yet, her mother was most insistent on this. One did not argue with her mother and her madness.

The challenge itself had been a bit of a surprise. Maybe? Still it was rather simplistic. She had to assume her competition would take the easy route and hunt a young dragon that was unawares. No real skill in that and young dragons were plentiful.

No the real skill would be in what she planned to do. Afterall, the challenge did not specify anything other than a dragon bone. There was a certain level of finesse required in talking a Dracolich into parting with one. A certain level of guts and bravado too?

But then she was willing to bet none of them had grown up knowing of at least two.

Daugolzan was immediately ruled out. Old Daug boy was not inclined to aid her family. More than likely, he was kill her? or capture depending on his mood.

No, her mind was made up as she ventured from her Uncle?s tower and headed for the nearby lair. Yeah, she learned how to address the Old one Properly from her Uncle and Bintyl.

?Hail, Great Scar? I come asking a boon of thee.?

Tia'tari Blayne

Date: 2010-01-24 14:25 EST
The blood of witches ran through her veins and with it came the curses and blesses associated with it. She knew well what three-fold harm would do to her should she seek to harm or kill an ancient and majestic beast such as a dragon. But the challenge had not required she pit her strength against something so grand.

With that in mind she summoned the electrical energy, picturing the currents and twining them about her, braiding them together into a rope and using it to yank her to her destination: the Southern Glen, reputed home of dragons.

Immediately upon arriving she was greeted with the sight of a powerful and massive silver dragoness lazily basking on a stone near the lake, tail twitching. Curiosity would bring the great head around to eye the young witch and she would gulp back a swallow at the proximity to such ancient power. She knew nervous energy was radiating off of her in waves and she desperately sought an approach that would place her in a favorable light, but she only managed a weak, ?umm...hello.?

The Shimmerscale Matriarch flared her nostrils as she caught the young woman?s scent. She?d offer a rumble of, perhaps, welcome. Taking it as such, Tia?tari would approach on soft steps, careful to keep the spelled shield in place should the dragon grow irritated with her boldness, ?I?m sorry to bother you, but I... I need your assistance.?

?Aye? what sort o assistance, lass?? The dragon would question with an arching of an eye ridge.

"I was told that the dragons kept a graveyard ... a cemetery if you will...where they bury their dead.?

Two young dragons would gallivant free from the lair and down the path drawing the flicker of serious grey eyes. She hoped that she did not offend with her questions.

Despite the alien nature of the dragon?s features it was clear that her question had brought a solemnity to the creature that had not been there before, ?why woul' ye be askin o sacred grounds??

As she brought her gaze back from the youthful antics of the young dragons fairly prepared to lie about her intents she found herself nose to snout with the beast and floundered, ?It's for scholarly purposes.. a better understanding..,? the boring gaze would dry her throat shut ?..of..of.of. of...dragons.?

The dragon would wait for her to expand on her explanation and Tia would debate her options and weighed the truth, the lie, or the varnished tale a mix of both. As if reading her body language easily the dragoness would reply, ?Ah'd recommend the truth, lass..? The words were soft, but held a slight edge to them.

She?d answer with truth after another uncomfortable swallow, ?I don't really know, to be honest, I was set upon a quest for proving myself. I need to recover a dragon's bone but I could never seek to harm so majestic a creature and the only thing I could think of was perhaps finding one that was no longer needed.? She blanched and hastily continued, ?I realize that might mean desecration and...?

Rows of dagger-like teeth were exposed in a smile as Moon Lyght laughed at the young woman. It was a beautiful sound, but one that frightened Tia within an inch of her life, ?I am so sorry. I shouldn't have come here... I shouldn't have asked such a thing.?

And with a suddenness that astounded, the silver dragoness stood abruptly and turned tail, with a growled, ?Come with me.?

Tia froze and contemplated fleeing, but curiosity (the bane of her existence), and the dragon?s commanding presence would win over her fear and self preservation. Following the silvery form through the Southern Glen she was oblivious to the beautiful scenery that unfolded before her.

She was unsure how long they traveled, lost in contemplation of the dragoness herself, and upon cresting a small rise, they would come to a stop. The silvery form settling back on its haunches like a majestic cat, tail coiling sedately around her taloned feet as she waited.

Upon reaching the top, Tia could only stare in wondered awe at the valley that spread out before her. A gesture of her great horned head to the small valley below, where there was tick brush that had in many places been trodden down by the great beast herself, the ground was littered with shed scales, a few broken claws and the occasional horn, Unlike mast dragons hers ocasionally fell of to regenerate anew. The dragoness eyed the girl: ?Ah'll nae take ye tae th' graves, but might this do??

Tia felt a flare of hope, a flash of something excited as she surveyed the littered valley with avid eyes, ?I appreciate this! I do! Most sincerely!? Her gaze flying from one discarded talon to another, searching, seeking her prize.

Moon Lyght watched the girl as she searched through the cast off scales and such: ?Ah'll ask ye ah favor in return, Tia'tari? Her tone was not harsh, but she sounded stern at the same time.

Tia paused, frightened eyes flashing back to Moon Lyght, as she considered the boon a dragon might ask of her before slowly nodding.

?Dinna allow another soul tae learn o' this place. there be those who woul' use such thin' fer ill.?

Tia sighed at the request as this she could do easily enough, her head whipping in a quick nod of agreement, ?of course, I won't.. I will excavate what I need by myself so as not to reveal its location as you wish.?

?Ye will alow yerself tae be bound?? This query held a curious note, hinting magic would be involved.

Tia?tari paused, she was familiar enough with the arcane to know what Moon Lyght requested was more than a simple word from her, those nervous grey eyes would narrow slightly as she weighed her answer considerably before nodding again. ?You have my bound word that I will tell no one of this location, nor willingly allow myself to be followed. This location shall forever be my secret to hold.?

Moon Lyght reared up, her wings splayed in an awesome display of power. The great dragoness inhaled and aimed her maw at the girl exhaling a torrent of black flames, and the world went dark. They now seemed to be just the two of them floating in space, though their feet would be firmly on the earth. ?Swear it upon pain o death, lass? Came the resoundingly echoed request.

She would stumble back from the majestic display, nearly falling to her knees but able to right herself, a deeply sharp inhale dragged in as she sought to ignore the urge to flee from the darkness, drawing her chin up she'd manage a firm if slightly soft response, ?I swear upon pain of death.?

The girl would, upon swearing, feel the light sensation as if being tied by invisible ribbons, not uncomfortably, but irrevocable. The world righted itself and she would appear unchanged, but be bound.

Tia released a shuddery sigh as the world righted itself, and a shift of her shoulders as she felt the ties to her essence binding her to her word and her promise to Moon Lyght. To deliver the location of this place to any would result in her immediate death and the thought was a frighteningly heavy one.

?Take yer bone then, lass,? The words would rumble out with a nod of approval.

?Thank you Dragoness.? Her slender body descending into a curtsy reserved for royalty.

?Moon. mah name be Moon.?

Tia?tari would give a shy smile, ?Moon...? obviously a little surprised to be on such familiar terms with such a magical and ancient creature.

Moon Lyght smiled back: ?Take care, little one tae use wisely what ye 'ave.?

?Yes, Yes Moon. I will.? Nodding and moving toward that slope and the valley that beckons, pausing long enough to whisper an arcane spell to cloak her location so that none may simply find her and therefore the location.

She would descend upon the valley and eye the upcoming work with a weighted glance, she was in for a long excavation but she felt comfortable in her choice of actions, even with the bound weight of Moon Lyght's arcane oath upon her.

((Chat logs sent to Arkon))
((Thank you Moon Lyght for the assistance! ;) ))

Homicidal Logic

Date: 2010-01-24 18:36 EST
He is thrown into the side of the cave with tremendous force as the dragon's tail whips around to catch him fully in the chest and fling him off of his feet. The impact itself jars even his senses, trembling the stone of the cave, leaving an impression of his body in the semi-soft limestone of the cavern.

Such a challenge he could not resist, and he is not good at coming right out and asking for things. It's just not his style.

The scroll had not stated they had to kill a full-grown dragon, true. and yet, even as he had read it, he had known this would be his task.

Arkon had given him nearly free reign to explore his potential, and this challenge he had seen as an opportunity to do just that.

The red dragon before him roars out its rage at having been disturbed, its frustration that this armored figure won't die, and lunges.

It had already learned the folly of trying to use fire. The first breath of it had not even singed him, had in fact been harnessed and turned back against the dragon, searing a leathery wing from crimson to charred black. The scream of pain from the reptilian giant had been glorious, music to his sadistic soul.

He dodges to the side with a leap, an armored fist already lashing out backhand to strike the dragon's head on the side with sufficient force to dent scales. Tremendous strength called upon as he draws more upon his own power, and the dragon bellows yet again, this time lashing out with its tail yet again.

He's playing with the beast, though doing so thus far has afforded him few strikes and more than one headlong flight into the walls of the dragon's cavern. Still, this is the most he has enjoyed himself in ages. The lips under his armored faceplate are curved into a manic, gleeful smile, showing many white teeth, though they are not visible under the visor that covers the lower half of his head.

As the tail whips around, this time he leaps up and over, letting the whip-like tail whistle by under his feet. The tail halts its swing and whips back at him just as he is coming down, and this time he drops prone. The tail misses by millimeters.

The dragon turns again, this time bringing it head on to him, the rage and frustration readily apparent on its features. He looks up to see the bunching of muscles under its scaly skin, and knows that the moment has come. A good thing, too, because as powerful as he is, he can't play like this forever.

He gets to his feet, feeling the power course through him, starting at his feet and surging up through his body, a nearly erotic, pleasant sort of heat that flares up to his shoulders and finally down to his arms as the long, wickedly curved, sharp sword is conjured into being.

The dragon roars as it lunges at him, a headlong rush, not realizing its mistake even though it is too late, looking to crush the demon with its sheer body mass.

And as it comes, he charges as well, sword held low, and just before the two of them meet, the demon drops to his knees, thrusting upwards into the dragon's softer underbelly.

Even being softer, there is a horrible screech as the blade, harder than the hardest of metals, sharp enough to rend the electrons from an atom, encounters scales. Finally finding a soft spot, a weak link, a chink in the armor, it plunges upwards into the dragon's neck.

The dragon's own forward force is the driving impetus to its own doom as it continues on. Scalding hot blood gushes over the demon as the dragon's life-force is spilt, the dragon's roar of pain and rage already weakening. As it begins to fall, he rolls out of the way, letting it crash to the stone floor of the cavern.

The dragon's weakening struggles, thrashing in a growing flood of its own blood, are halted as he gets to his feet and strides up to the head. The blade is lifted, reversed, plunged point-first into the dragon's skull, through the brain, ending its life.

He stands over it for a moment, feeling the glorious rush of victory, the thrill of being the dominant in this battle. After the moment, he bows his head to the dragon, a gesture of respect. "You fought well, young one."

He pulls out the sword and walks along the dragon, looking it over, before finally finding the very thing he is looking for.

Some time later, soaked in blood, bruised and battered but triumphant, he walks out of the cavern, carrying with him part of one of the rear limbs of the dragon, nearly three feet in length, hewn from the beast. The tall, proud walk of the victor is his as he heads back for the Academy to give his prize to Lord Arkon.

The rest of the carcass is left where it lies to be claimed by any that wish to have it.

Angelica Rose

Date: 2010-01-25 11:38 EST
She was in a pitched battle with some sort of angelic creature. Scar was quite helpful in her quest?

Provided she did him a favor?

Another parry and her clawed hand reached into the chest of the being before her and ripping out the soul stuff. She had to gather the essences of 20 of these creatures. She was now in a pitched battle to gather the remaining five. Some of the creatures had been easy to catch off guard. She was having a time of the final five as they were now alerted to her presence. She dodged and weaved through the shadows; using the skills Bintyl had been training her in. The shadow magic was more innate to her, but she was still a novice.

She hissed as one of the creatures got a jump on her. She snarled as the thing clung to her back. Without bothering with finesse, she slammed herself backwards into a wall, scraping the thing off of her. She half turned and ripped the essence from its body. Four more to go?

*****

Several hours ago?

The bone dragon was a fear inspiring sight. She knew the Dracolich and her Uncle had a pact that kept the great one here. She had pressed Bintyl at length to find out how to approach the great one. Bintyl had been amused and explained to her at length how to approach him. The Dark Elf has admonished her not to show fear in the face of the Dracolich.

So here she was meekly petitioning Scar?s aid for the bone. The Ancient Dracolich was plainly amused by the little girl seeking his aid? Amused enough to grant it?

For a price?

*****

One more to go? This was almost done to her relief. This gathering was arduous though the exercise was welcomed. It allowed her to extend her abilities and natural inclinations. She was a demon after all. This was second nature to the creature that rode her, whispering such sweet things. Death, power, lust? All these things were slowly integrating into her personality. Perhaps that is what her mother saw when this idea came to pass. She would have to give up a level of privacy, but what she would gain would be immeasurable.

When the last creature was gathered, she took a moment to gaze at the vessel Scar had provided her. She thought about the measure of power in these essences and smiled slowly at an idea forming. She tucked the vessel away and turned back to find a group of five of these creature huddling in a corner. Young, scared? and succulent.

*****

She was soon returning from Scar?s lair with the prize she had originally sought. The bone was from the wing of one of Scar?s long deceased sisters. The dragon in question had been a rather powerful black in her prime and Scar had seen her as competition to his power. Overall, the skeleton was in pristine shape thanks to the magics in the lair.

It had been a rather successful campaign with a little bonus. After all, she had eliminated 25 of those beings?

The Anguissette

Date: 2010-01-25 22:19 EST
The Anguissette would never expect to come into the presence of the Covenant and to be brought under their wings of power. Nor had she expected then though to be bound to the demon. Abyrdan.

A rolling sound of metal spilled its cadence across the floor of her bedroom quarters and Amiryn sat up, glacier eyes tracked and chased the scroll's container as it came to settle at the edge of her bed.

"I was not meant for this..."

Her whisper was soft as if there was an expectation that the scroll perhaps would ignite in flames or become some writhing creature of power and energy to speak its totem of purpose to her.

The scroll was lifted from the floor, quick as her fingers caressed the papyrus in an intimate, gentle touch as she read over the words.

Amiryn had no vendetta against the dragons, but the demand was order and her obedience while ever brazen and hard to harness, held a presence in her spirit.

Her eyes closed as the barbed chain of the mark at her wrist writhed and moved, serpentine in its coil as her breath caught. Enraptured she near could sense, feel the attempts and struggle Abyrdan had with the scaled beast in order to possess the bone.

Fingers danced a rhythm, a hypnotic tandem as she made her decision. Her body moved from the coveting claim of the silk sheets, the material sighing in protest as her naked flesh parted from its cold embrace.

Black as night her hair was braided in intricate serpentine patterns left to fall over her shoulder.

The dress this time was well chosen, selected with purpose. The crimson fabric poured down her flesh, a rich flowing river of color. Neckline dipped low and ran to her navel. Suggestive and carnel but still holding the air of tastefulness and the Anguissette's dark grace. The back of her dress dipped just as low, exposing the Briar Rose and it's intricate structure.

Her pace was quick and silent on the cobblestones to her destination. The ancient building loomed far past the familiar buildings of the marketplace. For an untrained eye it seemed desolate and simple.

Amiryn knew better. A hand lifted, curled to fist to rap on the door. A slide of door open, tempered by the latch that held it in a barricade of wood from her presence.

She did not wait for greetings to be hailed.

"I seek audience with Sharanor."
"And who might you be?"
"Tell him... that I am the Anguissette. Tell him I was sent by Meran."

The door pressed close and a trained ear of the Anguissette knew the retreat of foot falls. The soft whisper. Her smile curled as a private, intimately known pleasure. Sharanor of course... had overheard.

Not much time had passed before the door opened again, and she was ushered within.

"Ah... the Anguissette. Meran spoke much of you... highly of you and your... skills"

"He honors me..."

A rich murmur of her voice, as potent and thick as a red wine ever flavorful on the tongue. His words, well they proved exactly what the man's price would be for Amiryn's...request.

"What brings you here, m'lady."
"I seek a favor. I here you are the one that carries the Collection. Rare items... of power."
"I have been known to yes, what in particular interests you."
"I seek the purchase of a Dragon Bone. The bone of an Elder kin."

His eyes widened as Amiryn's glacier depths with their scarlet mote settled on him level as a brow lifted. Patient. Infinite was her patience.

The man swallowed thickly, rubbing a hand along his bald, aged brow.

"That... is near a priceless item you wish to possess, Amiryn."
"I am certain... there is a price you would find worthy of it. All things to be possessed... carry a price, otherwise they would not be for sale."

His eyes took on a look of worry and wonder. He knew well his old friend's skills with words, the craft of manipulation... and his pupil of Amiryn proved her apt in both. His eyes though took on another light as the crimson silk pooled to the floor around her.

Like a pool of blood. Of promises.

"I believe... I can persuade you on an... agreeable price."

The Collector could only gesture her to his sleeping quarters and she would follow after. Not submissive but carrying the air of one that belonged as a queen in a harlot's world.

Hours later when the sun was rising once more the Anguissette left the Collector's home. Her hands not empty but now filled with the black velvet wrapped boon of a favor.

The dragon's bone was hers.

Tia'tari Blayne

Date: 2010-01-28 21:27 EST
A trembling hand brushed across the smudge of dirt upon her cheeks. She was filthy and possessed no magical reserves with which to cleanse herself.

The normally proud set of her shoulders hunched beneath the burden of the bone strapped to her back. A tremble wracked her petite frame as she stumbled free from the last mound of uncovered dirt. The elementals had long since subsided and returned to their domains, leaving the rest of the work for her to finish.

It had taken two long nights of excavation. Careful digging with the assistance of her magic to locate a suitable bone of length and age. The ancient dragon matriarch had experienced many a shedding, a loss, a broken bone to be regenerated, but most had been from her youthful days.

Tia'tari was too much of a perfectionist to settle for slight fare. She would bring back a bone from one of the most powerful dragonesses in RhyDin. A Matriarchal figure who commanded great respect and honor.

And now, she had it. But her reserves were drained.

Thankfully the gift of her mother's blood had instilled an ability that did not come from her core powers. With a summoning, a calling, she drew the electricity from the very air around her, braiding it together, roping it about her exhausted form and yanking her across space and time to appear within seconds in her chosen bedchamber.

A stumble.

A gasp.

Collapsing to her knees beneath the heavy weight of the prize she gave into the urge to rest.... sleep... recover.

A puddle of dark silk and cloths, stained and torn, a dragon's bone seemingly pinning her there upon the floor.

Arkon Daraul

Date: 2010-02-02 19:56 EST
The announcement would come upon magical winds, amplified by an auditory enchantment that seems to reach out to the very soul and cling to it with a gelid grip. The antediluvian cadence of the voice is undeniable, an antiquated intonation belonging to the Dark Mage of the Shaitan.

It is my pleasure to announce the winner of the Bone Acquisition Challenge. Let me begin by saying that the contribution of the entire school has aided in the erudition of the magical draconians, and the efforts displayed by all of the students will serve in the progression of the Institute. The entire student body should be proud.

Without further ado, the winner of the Bone Acquisition Challenge presented by the Institute of Arcane Principal is:


Tia'tari Blayne.



From hence forth for thirty-one days she shall wear the honor and title of Primoris Discipulus This is to be celebrated and adhered to by all students and faculty.


Congratulations Tia'tari Blayne for achieving such a prestigious award.