The letter was penned in a flowing script by a seemingly delicate hand. As with everything else, things were not always what they seemed.

To whom it may concern;

I am Lady Ilyona Tarissana Albaelia. I wish to formally apply to attend the Institute of Arcane Principle. I have seen several of your students as part of your "Helping Hands" initiative and I have been duly impressed by how well they handle themselves. I personal have know the Tanner twins for a long time and was greatly impressed by their classmate, Vliss.

I come from a noble family in the lands of Carowyn that is closely aligned with the royal house. I am seeking to continue my training in the areas of Healing and shadows. I was forced to leave my previous school for *political* reasons.

I hope that my credentials and the recommendation of the headmistress are in order.

I thank you in advance for your consideration.

Lady Ilyona Albaelia.

To Whom it May Concern:

Many students pass through our hallways here at the Esoteric Academy, but few have the ability to impact the institution and student population like Quillyan Daewen. She is the type of student that stands apart from the crowd; she is exceptional in every sense: a once-in-a-lifetime pupil. It is with great pleasure that we recommend Quillyan Daewen for admission to the Institute of Arcane Principle.

Quillyan, or ?Quilly? as she is affectionately known, has been with us for two years, and she has excelled in the most rigorous courses our establishment offers. Her innate talent is matched only by her endless dedication, and she continuously proves herself to be an asset not only to her student peers but also to the general study of magical arts. Her innovative techniques and endless creativity illuminate her potential to be a sorcereress of limitless power.

As a faculty, we are saddened that she is leaving, but we understand the necessity of moving on to more prestigious schools. Her talent simply overreaches our abilities for instruction. We look forward to following her astounding progress as she continues to achieve breakthroughs in her field, and we hope that you will heed our recommendation and admit Quilly into your current class of students.

Thank you for your time.

The Administrators of the Esoteric Academy

***

The administrators of the Esoteric Academy formed an imposing semicircle opposite the desk, their fatigued countenances painted with varying degrees of dissatisfaction. Outside the office suite, the intimidating din of an angry crowd provided a tempestuous background to the furious silence of the gathered officials. Quillyan faced the incensed gazes, her sapphire eyes alight with an annoying triumph. She was smiling, downright basking in the perceived power of her position as mob ringleader.

The headmaster spoke, his elderly mien seething, suddenly more animated than it had been in years: ?This is ridiculous! Insanity! We have not had this sort of academic interruption -- ever! Quillyan Daewen, you will be expelled for your actions!?

?You can?t expel me!? cried the young witch, wielding her potency with unabashed aggression. ?If you expel me, that crowd out there will burn this place down. One word from me -- ONE WORD -- and you?ll be spending the next five years sorting through the rubble of your middle-tier institution.?

The headmaster smoldered, mentally reciting murderous spells as he imagined putting this arrogant creature in her proper place. Finally, his rage turned to his assistant, and he barked ?Get rid of her! I don?t care how!? before storming into his office and slamming the door.

Outside the administrative suite, the sound of breaking glass crashed over the crowd?s cries, adding a sense of urgency to the disciplinary proceedings.

The headmaster?s assistant, a tired-looking woman who lacked any perceptible vitality, sighed theatrically before muttering: ?Okay. What do you want??

The negotiation caught Quillyan off-guard. Whipped into the frenzy of perceived injustice over dubious class rankings, she had mounted the proverbial soapbox and, armed with trite phrases and brainless passion, led the other students to protest, but that was a far as she had ever imagined. There was never an endgame.

She wasn?t exactly sure what she wanted.

The administrator continued, flatly: ?You know you can?t stay. You were already on academic probation because of your poor grades, and now...now...? She trailed off with a depressed shake of her gray-topped head.

?Fine,? spoke Quillyan, her impulsiveness formulating the skeleton of a plan. ?I won?t stay. And I?ll talk to the students -- I?ll calm them down. But you?re going to get me into another school. A better school.?

The perfect bow of her lips parted in a sly smile.

?I want a really, really good recommendation.?

A letter writtened in blood, appeared on the door steps of the Institute.


To whom may be concern.

A demon succubi called Avita told me to applied here. She said it is a place I can belong. My coven had disappeared on me, leaving me with powers I don?t understand and don?t know how to control. I am Alyssa BlackRose. I was 18 and now I am frozen in time. I am vampire and lycan hybrid. I was turned not so long and struggle with hunger. I am not your typical person. I would like to talk to someone and let them met me in person. I promise you. You would like what you see.,


Signed,

Alyssa BlackRose

She arrived outside the gates of the Institute. A lone figure who stood unbothered by the whip of the wind, she seemed content to wait.

Once shown inside she sat before the Interviewer and explained her desires:

"My name is Chika Kokuri. I am searching for training in the use of my natural magical abilities. My race is that of a Cambion though I have learned to compose the urges for chaos, sin, lust, and destruction through rigid training.

I will not lie. I seek your assistance in honing my talents into a blade and one that I would then use upon my enemies. Mine is not a benevolent path and if this is troublesome than I shall take my request to another."

She awaited judgment.

A letter would find it's way to the building near the First Goblin Bank, if anyone looked back at records or tapes-if the building had such- they would see that it had been dropped off by a white bundle of fur, at least, until she dropped her hood. The Egyptian wasn't amazingly beautiful, but she carried herself with a certain kind of authority, it was clear she was used to being listened to, and in control. Gold bangles chimed at her wrists, as she passed the letter to a secretary. A slow smile, as she turned on her heel and left.

A guard followed behind her.

The envelope was addressed to the person in charge of the school, as she wasn't sure what title that person would have, it asked for the Admissions Office.. It seemed to be made of a paper akin to papyrus, sealed with wax, and a personal insignia within that. A pair of bird wings, a tilde under each, interconnected with interlocked circles.

Words written in an ink that didn't fade, the hand neat, if a little formal.

To whom it may concern:

My name is Moir Revenant, I am the Diplomat to the Sidhre people, and rather new to Rhy'Din. Recently I heard about magic, and that in order to be safe in this town, one must know some form of it. I would like to learn from your school.

This decision was not made without foot work, your institute seems that it will fit my needs best out of the schools around here.

Respectfully and with Hope,

Moir Revenant, Born of the Sidhre.

She would wait, an address for mail to be sent to was included as well, the compound was near the space-port. It was clear, she didn't know what she was getting into. Not that that would stop her, nor would she stop trying.

The missive arrived with the morning post, addressed to the Head of Admissions. The envelope that arrived was bereft of thrills and watermarks, a plain parchment that took ink well enough.

Sir or Madame,

My name is Khordan Rhylos, newly arrived to this realm. I have been researching the various schools and teachers of arcana here, and the name of your institute has been mentioned more than once. I therefore would like to submit my name for consideration of admittance.

I have trained under several tutors for the past six years, all associated with the various mage guilds of my homeland. I have reached a level at which I am ready to expand upon my training. Such references will be made available on request.

Thank you for your consideration

K.R.

The withered and antiquated features of Arkon Daraul were undeviating in his composed regard of the flames that ignited to frame the fiendish presence held within. Uncompelled by the quivering effect of the otherworldly voice, he watched in silence as the demon lord - this Carnivean - spoke, pools of saffron trained upon his gruesome visage. Cradled within gnarled fingers was the twisted length of his wizard's staff, assisting in the laborious effort that even standing required.

To those that looked with only their eyes Arkon appeared feeble and weak, but to those who sought detail through perception beyond mundane means, they were witness to the truth of his ailment - a mortal vessel incapable of housing such a surplus of raw power.

Once the flame was extinguished and the unholy presence removed, he whispered a simple spell and was stolen from the halls of the Institute, returning to Barud Das to compose his reply. He was not surprised by the arrogance of the Demon, as the Tanar'ri sometimes just needed a firm nudge in the direction of decorum.

************************************************** ***********************

The Vadeni waited patiently for the doors to Carnivean's palace to open, chittering meanly as it puffed on the cigarette it held between its monkey-like fingers. When allowed entry, the small creature moved with those who ushered it to see their master, making no other move than to follow along until presented to the Demon Lord of Pandemonium.

When before the menacing Demon, it withdrew from the pouch it carried a small golden tray just large enough to fit within its hands as well as a sealed flagon. Popping the cork, it poured just enough of the lavender liquid into the tray, making sure not a single drop was spilt, and then resealed and replaced it. Taking up the tray carefully, it lifted it above its head, where magic was enacted and an image erected. That of Arkon Daraul.


Lord Carnivean,

I, Arkon Daraul, am honored that you have chosen the Institute of Arcane Principle to instruct your young thrall. The Institute is the Premier conservatory for arcane advancement and hosts the most supreme of faculty, all unparallel masters of arcana, along with libraries and halls spanning hundreds of planes that can further research, accelerate study, and explain phenomenon well beyond the means of most other academies.

In return for a full tuition, the Institute requires only half of the monetary compensation normally required, substituted instead for unimpeded access to your plane for excavation and study, within any parameters you see fit, of course.

Because there are so many choices between differing schools I could see how you would mistake the Institute for a menial college, and for that I forgive your preliminary greeting and the condescending tone in which you spoke. With that said, if all of the terms are agreed upon please return yourself to the Deaconess of the Institute, Satariel Shah, at the crest of midnight thrice nights forth within her courtyard. Arrive with your token in hand, Carnivean, and present yourself in the most suitable of fashions - upon your knees with your eyes trained on her feet.

We look forward to your return.

The image winked out of existence and the Vadeni lowered the tray, sniffed it once and then drank the water. A belch quickly followed, then a cackle, and finally the small creature convulsed violently, fell to the floor, and died.

From its other hand a coin hit the floor and rolled across the distance from where he sat, the failing momentum causing it to wobble a half dozen times before settling down.

It was a familiar black onyx token.

She'd been waiting in her courtyard since the clocks had spun to Eleven minutes past the Eleventh hour.

So perfect was her composure, so lifeless her body, she appeared as a statue carved from a maestro's hands. The potent arrival of the Demon Lord was met with no sign of life. Though one of his power would not need mortal movement to recognize that she very much lived.

Molten eyes that reflected the hands of time, watched with interest as the thrall was thrown before her. The power noted. The attraction weighed. This one tempted. This one garnered special attention.

It would seem the Dark Mage of the Shaitan had not been too proud in his dealings with the Demon Lord Carnivean as success was weighed by the glorious treasure that was Leda.

Enigmatic, she observed the touch of flames upon her svelte body and most importantly the marks of ownership. And it was then that she felt the undeniably heated gaze upon herself. Slowly she lifted her chin to meet the glower of the Demon Lord. Expressionless. She gave no sign of concern even as she prepared herself to face his wrath. The shadows slipped and slid about her, concealing and revealing the marble gloss of her unearthly body. Flustered by what they perceived to be a threat to their Mistress they writhed and undulated in growing discordance.

As the crash echoed throughout the courtyard, shook even the nearby towers, she peered down upon the bowed head of the Great Carnivean and slowly, ever so slowly, her lifeless lips lifted in what could only be called a smile.

"Lord Carnivean, your token will be most treasured and she will thrive with discipline and instruction, this I promise you as the Dark Priestess of the Shaitan."

She resisted the urge to trace a hand along the molten skin of the magnificent form of the demon before her, "Rise Mighty Carnivean and return to your realm assured with the knowledge that you have chosen well upon this cusp of night and day. May our alliance serve to strengthen us all."

Green looks eyes around, stopping on the human male. Her pale lips whispers. ?If you write this letter, my love. I will give you anything your heart desires.? The human the changeling found, was someone with a good name and deep pocket.

?I will do anything for you, Cassie.? Jonathan told her. His hands moves out and touch her beautiful pale face. ?where do I sent it.? why did she change that human name. It short and innocent. Just like her human form.

?Institute Of Arcane Principle.? She smiled. A school she heard. A magic school. Somewhere she can bite her teeth into and learn the mortals. Ever since she got to Rhydin, She heard of that school. She watched Jonathan picked up a parchment and quill.

-------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------

To whom a may concern??..


I have a young woman that would be excellently for your school. Any money you want to make sure her survival I can produce.. She is a young?.mage with natural gifts. I am sure she will make friends with the students that already goes to the school. I am sending more than enough money to make sure you will get some and get the supplies she needs to the school.

Johnathan Blake.

__________________________________________________ ________

Johnathan?s eyes glanced over to Cassie to see she was pleased. And she was. She was smiling back to him. She moves toward his and caress his cheek. ?Good work, Johnathan.? the way she said his name, draw lust in his eyes. He moves to kiss her. She touched his lips lightly with her lips. ?what do you desire.?

?I desire you.? together they move to bedroom.


All she has to do is to wait. She wonders if they know who write the note, if they know she is more than the changelings. She gave him what he disire. She now go and explore Rhydin.

"You really should apply to this place, you know," Patty was saying as she lounged on the bed in her rented room, absent-mindedly playing with Wesley, her kitten ... her familiar now, apparently. She looked over at Jerry, the only person she could claim to know in Rhy'Din at present. "I got in, why shouldn't you?"

"I've just been too lazy," he chuckled as he lounged on the ground near the door, leaning against the wall. He plucked a loose button from his jacket and tossed it over to the kitten. "Besides, all that drama the other night. What was that all about?" He stirred and sat up enough to reach onto the desk for something to write with and the application.

She made a rude noise, earning herself a playful swat from the kitten beside her. Grinning, Patty pinned the little feline down gently, letting him wrestle with her fingers as she looked up once again. "It's a school; schools have politics," she shrugged with one shoulder. "And this one has vampires and stuff, too." She perked up at the sight of paper and pen. "So you're gonna do it? 'Cos I can drop it off when I go over there. I have to present myself to the Headmistress."

"Of course I'm going to do it," he sat up and then leaned over, paper on the ground. "But what do I say? I've really no experience beyond a few things." he shrugged and looked down at the blank piece of paper. He sighed and began to put the pencil to paper, then stopped. "Do you think they'll even let me in?"

"Hey, if you've got the ability, they've gotta at least consider you, right?" Patty sat up, leaving Wesley to entertain himself with the bedsheets. "Start it out with To Whom It May Concern," she suggested. "I don't really know who does the application thingys."

Jerry considered her, then Wesley. "Yeah, I guess I do. I mean, I was able to beat you." He grinned with a wink and set to writing. "To Whom It May Concern," he stopped talking and after a moment's pause, took up to writing again. "My name is Jerry Pollock and I think I have some powers or abilities." He looked up at Patty again and smiled. "This sounds so weird to me, like out of a movie."

"Beginner's luck," she scoffed laughingly, rising to her feet to lean over him as he wrote. "You need to make it sound kind of official ... How about I understand that yours is an institute of respectable mien and possessed of both tutors and students of the highest ability in the arcane arts?" She grinned down at him. "If this is a movie, then roll credits."

"Mmm, hmm." he chuckled and then took to writing down what she said, verbatim. "I just hope they accept me if their other students are of the highest ability." He gained a dubious expression, including the pout of his lower lip. He tapped the pencil to his lip and looked up at her. "So, to continue, I should say, "I am applying to enroll in the Institute of Arcane Principles to learn from the best and hone my craft." How's that sound?"

"Sounds good," Patty grinned, twisting to plant her backside on a corner of the desk to watch him write. "You should put something in there about what you've done - you know, magically - and how you're fully committed to getting the best possible results out of your training. Which, naturally, is why you're applying to them."

"Well," he frowned thoughtfully and then shrugged. "It's only happened twice, besides the duels. Both times I was scared out of my mind and then what I wished for came true. I didn't get hit by that car and the motorcycle just kind of floated instead of sliding us across the asphalt human grate."

Patty frowned with him. considering how to spin this. "Experimentation with my innate ability and power has been limited to moments of necessity thus far," she said, gesturing for Jerry to write this down. "I feel I would progress with greater speed and safety within the boundaries set by your esteemed institution."

He wrote it down, word for word, with a good deal of enthusiasm. "That's really good." He looked up at her and smiled brightly. "And in conclusion, I sign this with the hope that you will find me worthy of becoming a part of the student body. If accepted, I assure you that I will not falter. I am committed to my abilities and have full intention of being molded into a warlock that is worthy of being an Institute of Arcane Principles graduate. Sincerely..." Jerry then signed his name and tossed the pencil back up onto the desk. The letter was folded neatly and he held it out to her like it were a sword.

"Great!" Taking the letter, Patty stuffed it into her backpack, ready to be delivered when she next wandered through the IAP. "So ... what do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?"
_________________

Later that evening, the letter found its way to Arkon Daraul's desk, only a little crumpled from its travels among Pattty's things.


To Whom It May Concern,

I understand that yours is an institute of respectable mien and possessed of both tutors and students of the highest ability in the arcane arts. I am applying to enroll in the Institute of Arcane Principles to learn from the best and hone my craft. At present, I have no training at all in any discipline, and am eager to learn control. Experimentation with my innate ability and power has been limited to moments of necessity thus far. I feel I would progress with greater speed and safety within the boundaries set by your esteemed institution.

In conclusion, I sign this with the hope that you will find me worthy of becoming a part of the student body. If accepted, I assure you that I will not falter. I am committed to my abilities and have full intention of being molded into a warlock that is worthy of being an Institute of Arcane Principles graduate.

Sincerely,
Jeremiah Pollock

Fae Royalty.

Demi-Gods.

Infernal Demons.


Satariel's brow remained serene and no emotion exhibited in the emptily merciless pits of her eyes. Another great being sought their assistance. She could not deny the opportunity of such alliances. Boons owed. Connections fostered.

Her gaze reflected the face of the clocks that surrounded her and she pondered the future of these students. Would one of them prove to be worthy of the Covenant? Would their growth here within this school further the dark gains of the Shaitan? There were a handful that demonstrated promise and it was these individuals that she paid close attention.

For this the delicate dance of diplomacy was worthwhile. A quill descended from the darkness to quiver across the vellum parchment:

Fin Bheara,

We here at the Institute of Arcane Principle look forward to working with your child. We will encourage her to advance and excel at her innate abilities while gaining knowledge and skills that will assist in her future endeavors.

We appreciate your offer of generous donation and recognition of both our excellence and wisdom, may both guide us toward rearing your daughter to be a powerful sorceress in her own right.

Her arrival is welcomed and expected.

Sincerely,
Satariel Shah
Deaconness of the Institute of Arcane Principle

Smelling of timber and brimstone, the seared parchment would have found its way between the stack of application letters. Crisp across the edges, no longer did the purity of the parchment maintain its white appearance, but instead something more akin to a kindled beige. Upon unfolding, the corners would start to flake away, though the body of the letter remained intact, and would recite the following...


To the Administration,

My name is Enzir Jekai, and I present myself to you on behalf of the Fire Kingdoms of Arnoche'sal. I am both a knight and a wizard to the Court of Flame, as well as Steward and Brother to his highness, Arcrath Jekai. My credentials are not vast, though I have come to your lands beside her highness, Queen Xera Lionend, as guardian and consort, and would hope that, with her council, you would find me worthy of acceptance inside your institute.

While an accomplished weaver of fire magic, I know very little of other sorts and wish to expand this knowledge to better serve my Kingdom. As one might imagine, between the borders of Arnoche'sal there is little value in the casting of other magics, though as more threats present themselves I find that the margins of the glorious element, while devastating, may one day leave us lacking when pitted against a more sagacious challenge. It is this fear that has unearthed an unwavering interest to expand my awareness, and seek the glory and power of your university to achieve this.

Whatever funding is needed I shall acquire, though my resources are a bit limited and time may be needed to procure the allotted amount. As second heir, my vault is not nearly as immense as my brother's.

Sincerely,

Enzir Jekai
First Cavalier of the Flame Court

Master Mukai San
Overseer, Temple of Kalfyi San

We here at the Institute of Arcane Principle accept your charge within our halls and will endeavor to offer him training for such a rare gift.

We ask in return that a Sorcerer within our school have access to to the library of the Tower of Kalfyi San so that we might further expand our knowledge.

Please inform Dillon Atikas that his presence is expected and we await his arrival.

Sincerely,
Satariel Shah
Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle

There would be no need to offer up a letter of acceptance for the Seer as she apparently became the ward of the school with her arrival.

A glance at an ornate timepiece revealed the slender back of one Tiatari Blayne as the former Marchioness bent over her alchemical table lost in an arcane formula.

Wards were quite successful with their focus undivided by such annoying constraints as family and other ties.

She made note to the Superintendent to see to her room placement.

The Cartiers:

We here at the Institute of Arcane Principle thrive upon discipline, both the instilling and the importance of it. We look forward to exploring Bayliss' abilities while instructing upon her the importance of such discipline.

Please present yourself to the IAP Superintendent for Room Assignments and Mentor placement. A schedule that befits her needs will be created shortly.


Sincerely,
Satariel Shah
Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle

The voice whispered from the darkness, sibilant and soft. "This one makes no offers that further the Shaitan's gains."

Coldly alien, the opaque eyes of the Mistress of Shades and Shards turned in the direction of her new assistant. Reflected within the burnt umber of her gaze was a clock face, with the hour and minute hands forever frozen on 11:11.

Chilling her voice thrummed, at long last, from lips that moved only imperceptibly, no signs of life on the statuesque perfection of her features, "You overlook the greatest boon of all."

"I don't understand, there are no ties to royalty, or lands to exploit, realms to explore, riches to be gained..."

Again came the silence. Marred by the ticking of the clocks all around them. Finally an explanation was delivered: "We are agreed that such particulars have great merit for the Shaitan, but in their lacking comes another that should not be overlooked."

At the even longer vacuum of noise, the Deaconess elaborated, "His lack of connections leaves him ungrounded, unfettered by those who would seek to influence him...or seek him should he become Lost. Lost within a message that does not struggle against familial connections or relations. He is Ripe. And should he prove to have talents useful to our purposes, he shall be quite succulent."


A scroll slid from the darkness and the words etched themselves across the parchment at her bequest:

Amadeus Litos,

Your willingness is most appealing. We, at the Institute, look forward to welcoming you within our walls and pledge to provide you with all the guidance you should need on your path to greatness. Please present yourself at the school at your earliest convenience. The IAP Superintendent shall have your room assignment and mentor placement readied upon your arrival.

Sincerely,
Satariel Shah
Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle

Engulfed in robes of somber hue, the lone figure drifted across the desolate landscape toward Citadel Raithmoore. Solitude surrounded this ghastly form yet did nothing to deter the authority in its stride as it traversed the barren scenery with little regard for anything other than the ornate doors of the cathedral, where thereupon it awaited acknowledgement and access within.

Scarce information was given as to why it sought the Lich King, though the simplest of detection spells would reveal a series of sigils lining its umbral mantle affiliated with the Institute of Arcane Principle. Verbally it would offer no evidence as to the origin of its presence aside from the spectral utterance of a single name.

?Lord Raithmoore.?

When brought before the possessor of its purpose, the phantom, entrenched in shadow, raised its dark arm and expelled from its voluminous sleeve a skeletal hand enclosed around an elongated scroll case crafted of dragon bone. Surrendering the missive to the Undead Drow, the apparition paused, swarmed by silence and death, and awaited his response.



My Lord Raithmoore,

Long has it been since last we conversed, your waning occurrence within Ry?din noted in acute detail. I hope this letter of application is indicative of an imminent return, and one that will soon secure an assembly of our two companies.

The description of these Drow is intriguing as twins are often the polestar of magic beyond mere solitary existence. We offer a variety of courses that will aid in their growth; not only advancing their current circles of focus but progressing those schools of magic that might not be their immediate strengths.

The monetary tuition for their tenure will be divided in partition, a cost transferred instead to a controlled admission within your walls where we might be able to organize a small excavation to better understand and explore the powerful and deadly city you command.

If you find these terms favorable be assured that the doors of the Institute are open for their enrollment at your earliest convenience.

Arkon Daraul
Mastema of the Institute of Arcane Principle

At the conclusion of the response the messenger dipped its abyssal cowl in semblance of a gracious bow and withdrew in a floating backpedal, bleeding from sight to dissolve within the impending shadow.

Greetings from Cerlyn Barad,

I write to you on behalf of Riven Thalumeur, a talented evoker who studies here at the tower. Recent events have uprooted my apprentice and he must make way to the city of Rhy?Din, where he will remain indefinitely. He has no desire to stop his arcane training, however, and through research he discovered the Institute of Arcane Principle and requested that I write to you on my behalf. Riven is as talented as an evoker as I have ever seen and has spent many years under my tutelage learning to perfect his art and furthering his understanding of the other schools of magic.

It goes without saying that he is not near the level of an arch-magi quite yet, but he is well above the status of what most would consider novice level. He initially desired to be placed in the level of mage, however we have discussed this further and he has agreed that apprentice is best tailored to his needs. He is an ambitious spirit and possessing of a sharp intellect, absorbing information like a sponge. Everything I have taught him sticks; he has never once disappointed me.

It is with a heavy burden on my heart that I ask you to take him into your halls and let him learn from the varied instructors you employ. I know that he will do great at the Institute; Riven is born of greatness and ever surpasses my expectations and those of my colleagues here at Cerlyn Barad.

Enclosed with this letter is a purse of gold that should cover the expenses of housing Riven at the school as well as the fee for attendance should he be accepted.

Sincerely,

Argneir Viulhedhar

Archmage of Cerlyn Barad