Contacts & Allies

[Hadrian]

Moderator PermissionEchelon gave me permission to post in Hadrian's office despite his hiring thread not having happened yet. If there are problems, Paragon will help us correct them, I trust.

33rd Summer, 512 A.V. The office was sparse and spartan, the sort visiting professors used. Of course nobody knew yet how long they would extend his contract, or whether some magical experiment or another might destroy him before another round of students matriculated. There was so much to do, and this was excluding the nominal duties of his new employment. Curriculum could be flown by the seat of his pants, at least for a week or so, but this auction -- he was not certain how best to organize it. Thankfully he had help, and had been promised more, or the resources with which to procure more. But just for the moment he needed distraction, so he settled a small, potted fern on the windowsill. There was no direct sunlight, which was all for the best if he had correctly identified its species. He had little in the way of personal effects as it was, and most of those were stowed in his cottage. There hadn't been time yet to return to his ancestor's bequest, the hidden lair outside the city proper, but he supposed he had been patient for so long, he could manage to wait a bit longer. After all, it seemed that when it rained, it poured. Opportunities were falling in his lap now fit to overflow. It was important he make a good impression on these powerful people; though he cared more for knowledge and wisdom than power, he knew that power gave one the ability to pursue the others with impunity. Impunity, that was what he wanted. He sighed, wondering when Lucas would get back, or Ethan. There wasn't even time to worry about Kendall's continuing downward spiral. A knock at the door disrupted his puttering about, and he turned to peer toward the door, his senses darting through wood and stone to he who stood without. "Enter," he said, clearly and without arrogance. The man who walked through looked more a lad, though his aura seemed too sophisticated for one so young. Did he already have students knocking at his door? He wondered if there was talk of the changes wrought upon him by the storm, how being in Avanthal when it hit had pulled some of his latent Vantha blood to the fore, streaking his hair with dark blue, and brightening his eyes to a Vantha hue. "Hello. May I help you?"

[Trente]

Trente had wrestled slightly with himself when deliberating over weather or not to pursue this new mystery professor once he heard of his legacy. Many of the better educated members of his circle felt Professor Aelius had potential to float quite well amongst the ranks of the University. Trente had his suspicions, noting that off put locations of his office. Predating that concern, however, was Trente's sense of loyalty to the Lord of Counsel. How quickly he had taken her as an enemy, and within minutes she had turned him ally. Trente could not deny her charisma, as uncertain as it often was. There was an honestly which Trente respected, an honesty Trente wondered if he was betraying by reaching outside of her tentative support of the Martial Association. Ultimately he had disregarded the guilt as unbased, his loyalty should be to the people, and so should Maria's. With such logic it seemed only right that what was good for one was inherently good for the other. Trent would seek his support, and disregard any pangs of guilt.

With a knock and an answered invitation Trente entered, and took the liberty to push the door closed behind him, as he had found it. He looked to Hadrian with an open, but unsmiling face as he looked him over, not taking too much time for observation, assuming Hadrian to be naturally busy with his new position. He wondered if the man meant to begin his tutelage that season or the next. Trente was please by what he did manage to see, however. Vantha features, blaring and eye catching. However, underneath the distinct look of a Syliran mutt. Trente would know, he grew up with plenty in Zyliras. Trente could not judge homeland by glances, but he could tell heritage well enough.

Such genes treated many men unkindly, but such was not the case with Hadrian, as it was not for himself. A fact he knew perhaps too well. Hadrian was a mage, Trente had heard rumors but a look was all he needed to know for sure. But the clear tan across his healthy body proved him a traveler as well. Trente would appreciate this as well, for his tan and freckles had yet to fade from his years on the sea. Still, most impressive to Trente was the professor's posture, confident but not overly proud. This did win the slightest tweak of a genuine smile on Trente's otherwise serious face. He wondered if their personalities would clash, Trente's confidence was no pose, and h refused to adopt falsehood to win the heart or mind of another man. This seemed a potential thread against his vendetta.

He stood near the door, not impeeding upon Hadrian's sparce space as he spoke itnroduction. "Hello there, Professor Aelius. I'm sure you're very busy-" His eyes flicked to the meager potted plant, and he wondered more upon the man's nature. Trente fundamentally disagreed with putting plants inside, but knew most were not prone to the same quirk, so he held it to little importance. "- sorting your affairs. I will make my introduction quick. My name is Trente Ostentatoire-Criard Eclatante, and I am a fairly new student at the University." His tone was not lofty per se, yet undoubtedly haughty, rich with it's own importance.

Trente spoke in a way not so much noble as overly concise. He was not beyond adorning his language with hefty or obscure words collected from his youth, but the beauty of language was far from the goal. Poetry did not come from the mutt's mouth, instead a series of over-deliberate statements. "I wish to, in representation of the student body as a whole, welcome you to our school, and thank you for your innate offer of tutelage to us all." Without pausing he continued with an almost rehearsed sense of purpose in his speech. "Furthermore, I would personally like to extend an offer of my own services. No doubt you are capable of preparing your own work, but should you desire outside assistance you can find me in the student quarters," he offered forth a location which had housed the newer professors before the new, more spacious professors dormitory had been installed, proving accommodation above that of the average student "or by campus courier. I'm quite familiar with them all, and they will know how to contact me."

Trente respectfully ceased his brief ranting and looked to the professor receptively, taking an honest moment to observe him in detail, and consider what words he gave. Hadrian had his full attention.

[Hadrian]

"Thank you, Master Eclatante," he said, erring on the side of respect. He was not sure if any student would ever call him friend, but he would settle for mutual respect. Respect was comfortable, founded on integrity and admiration. Friendship could be more easily twisted, as he had found to his sorrow. "And yes, there seems to be plenty to do already and you are the first student I've met." They would come to him, he supposed, just the same as he had come to Stonemiller, offering his services as a research assistant or, better yet, laboratory assistant. The man had taught him much, and now given him his first employment other than the odd job here and there to keep him clothed and fed and creating enchantments over the past two years. The man seemed younger than him, but not. He looked as young as Hadrian had when he came to Zeltiva to learn, but there was something more worldly about him that Hadrian had only developed with time spent away from the University. They can only teach you so much, Elias had told him back in Syliras. Truly, the world was the greatest of classrooms. "Thank you for your offer, too. Did you have something particular in mind?" He thought it best to have a dialogue than to assume; he was observant, and could read auras and, to some extent, the contributions people left behind on objects, but he was far from omniscient. All the same, sometimes his senses told him things without his being aware, and he stood to open the window. It was a bit musty in there, the cleaning before he moved in cursory and hurried. The plant would thrive there on that threshold between his man-made office and the open air, and the closed windows would protect it from winter's bonesnappers. And Hadrian, of course, had been handed a clandestine task. He wondered if MaeClair had taught him too well the arts of obfuscation and intelligencing, and if people could just tell he would be good with that which must be hidden. "It wanted air, I think," he offered. "Please, sit." He motioned to the pair of chairs before his desk and sat in the other, not putting the desk between them. Such physical obstacles, he had found, could manifest as mental and emotional obstacles as well. Everything, the philosopher said, was everything.

[Trente]

Trente continued with his attentive reception till beckoned forward. He took the time to sit for quiet reflection on how he might proceed with the conversation. He certainly had not expected to be invited in for conversation, though it pleased him. The Professor seemed a bit overwhelmed to Trente, more so than he has anticipated. Beyond these physical observations, however, was another sensation, one that told him that Hadrian already had a task in mind, though he didn't know it yet. Nothing clairvoyant, or sinister, just an intuitive nudge as he often had.

He smiled shortly again as he sat, and observed Hadrian sitting unbarred by the desk beside him. Trente was no philosopher in intent, and had not been trained as such. Everything was nothing to the man, but he knew well enough social queues, for socialization and appealing to the thoughts and feelings of others had been what saved his youthful life from certain death on a daily basis. Many believed Trente a wealthy born child, perhaps even Zeltivan by roots. He wasn't anything of the sort, his words were not taught to him from books, but by firelight, tucked into the arms of his mother who spoke in tongues nobody could place, from a past he had never learned. She would have smiled too, had Hadrian sat there instead of behind his lofty desk, she would have known he was evening their status if only as a compliment. He didn't wish to be threatening, and this pleased Trente as much as it would have his mother. Though, he hoped at least, for different reasons. Hadrian was a well put together man, but he had found more thrill in a promiscuous route had he remained behind his desk, and unattainable.

Where they peers now? Hardly. But he wished Trente to be honest with him about his thoughts and perhaps even feelings. Trente was an innately forward and frank person, though he would not over share. Then was not the time to share his involvement with the association, Hadrian would discover that on his own later. No, this was about what Trente could, or rather would do for Hadrian. Trente's smile faded as he again began to speak, measuring his words tentatively, direction most of his attention toward the curious professor who was bound to give more invaluable social ques. Trente's body fell quite naturally into a proud posture, trained and habitual.

"I'm sure mundane tasks can be performed by an assistant, what I offer is anything out of the ordinary. Zeltiva has no doubt changed, both in geography and personnel since you have gone about your journeys. Though tasks amongst the University can be accomplished with easy, if you ever need something beyond the University, beyond your convenience, I could make time to procure it, or no doubt find one that can fulfill your requests." Trente thought for a moment on what a professor could possibly want. When he had joined the University not a year before he had made sorry mistakes in stereotyping teachers. They were not all hungry for knowledge, and they were not all helplessly absorbed with student's education, he conspired to correct those mistakes with Hadrian.

After a short pause of contemplation he proceeded, "I don't presume to know your desires, Professor Aelius, nor do I demand you tell me. I can promise, however, that if a task can not be performed by another it can be accomplished, or at the very least explored in confidence with me. There is the face of our University, and then there are the people behind those faces. Thinking, feeling, craving people. With blood just like those out in the city streets. I understand one can not be simply a wealth of knowledge at all times. And, though I respect your station as a professor, I also welcome open dialogue when such blood desires" The words sounded odd in his mouth, and they made him smile, though seriously, for reasons he could not quite touch upon. Perhaps he had found in his own speech some level of attraction to the young professor after all, it was certainly intimate, more so than he had yet to manage with any other professor, any even most students within those walls. He found the words surprisingly true, however, whatever form the relationship might adopt Trente did crave something beyond the shallow interactions of the old professors who repeated lessons and words as if the world had no more life left to live. Yes, Trente felt a churning of adventure in his veins. He flushed, not blushed mind you, my dear audience, but flushed with excitement. He had this often as a younger man, and he knew his youth had not, as he previously thought, been sucked out of him be his last adventure. No, perhaps again he was ready to travel. Or perhaps, just to explore. Perhaps Zeltiva still had some places, some people, to explore.

He looked Hadrian in the eye. "I'm aware I am forward, and at times lacking formal contrition, and for that I suppose decorum mandates I concede an apology to you, which asked for I will give with sincerity. Though, if you are interested, I will save me energy for contemplating what requests you might bring to my attention." He felt the whelm of unknown in his chest, the thrill. For once he had no clue what the man before him would say or do in response to his words. it excited him, the unknown. He anxiously, feigning a stoic demeanor, waited for the young professor's reaction, bracing himself for the worst.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian tapped his finger thoughtfully against his lips as Trente spoke. His lips were full as a girl's, though his mouth was small. He was attractive in pieces, though in putting those pieces together and filling him with such a sharp, focused mind, few would call him so. Finally, when the other man's words ran out, Hadrian spoke. "Certainly the years and the storm have changed Zeltiva; they have changed me as well. Some changes, I fear, won't be known until much later. You are also correct in your assumption that I have been handed tasks beyond those of teaching students. But there are many things that must remain confidential... certain information about students, certain of my magical projects, and certain other tasks assigned to me. I will need assistance beyond that which I imported from abroad, I am sure. But, more than that, I need people I can trust. "Unfortunately, I don't know you from the next person, and while I have a hunch about you and often follow my intuition, I would rather verify your trustworthiness. I'm no truthseer of Tyveth, but I have my methods. Would you submit to them willingly if I promise you will not be harmed, nor your will compromised?" He truly didn't mean the man any harm, but he was a wizard and they were notoriously secretive. He wasn't even going to allow Ethan or Kendall into the laboratory his ancestor had left him without a Grand Oath; those secrets had to be protected! But he had not ventured a single thread of hypnotic power to induce Trente to do anything; the man would choose himself to trust Hadrian so that Hadrian could be sure that trust would be well placed in him. If he didn't want the job, well, then they could still part as friendly acquaintances.

[Trente]

Trente realized the options before him. Nothing was being forced on him, and he had been warned, not with threats, but with the unknown, the most dangerous of all things. Still, Hadrian had promised not to harm Trente, and on a the single premise that Trente had conspired, even asked for this test he could submit, for better or worse. Trente could thing of countless horrors a magus could perform on him, but like Hadrian he trusted his intuition for better or worse.

"With a promise that I will come to no harm, and my will untampered I do consent to your test, Professor." Trente smiled again at the thought of a professor's surprise examination. What sort, he did not know, however. But he had no fear, for he was loyal. It was true he approached each situation with a fresh sense of justice, and weighted oaths to little appeal in such judgements, he did still have a keen sense of moral endurance, that in all cases preserved that which he had previously conspired to hodl loyalty toward. He would warn Hadrian if his loyalty had been tested, and would offer a respectful warning before any rash decisions were made. Yes, Trente was trustworthy, in that he was predictable and honest.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian nodded and snapped his fingers. The world turned black, save for the two of them and their chairs. Of course, they were visible, so there was light, but its source was hidden. It was only a visual illusion, but let the man think what he would of Hadrian, and tell what tales he might. Hadrian hoped, though, that the man would prove circumspect. His fingertip flared with an eldritch light and he brought it up into the space between them. The fingertip swelled into incandescence as he scribbled an intricate sigil into the are, and when his finger returned to normal and their eyes adjusted, all that was left was a faint glow that seemed to draw on in; indeed, his aura was already reaching out to gently enfold Trente's, and when his words came, they were redolent with suggestion, urging Trente's mind toward a trance. He would be conscious, of course, but suggestible. "If you will concentrate your eyes on the sigil," he said politely, "and then let your mind relax, I will guide your mind into a truth trance. I will not be able to force you to do anything against your will, but you will be unable to speak lies. They will not be able to pass your lips. This will not, of course, last beyond the trance, and it will not take too long in the trance to make what determinations I deem necessary. "If you consent, please do as I say. Look into the sigil and relax your mind. You may feel tired, heavy-lidded. Do not fall asleep. I do not seek to cloud your judgment, but to ensure that our dealings are done with integrity."

[Trente]

The hair upon Trente's nape rose in disoriented panic at the ease of the Professor's stroked of influence contrary what he firmly believed to b reality. He reminded himself, however, that he should suspect such a thing. One does not become a Professor so young by dabbling in their field, and Hadrians field had always been advertised as magic. Nor would one survive a jont around Mizahar with such a reputation if they did not possess the means to defend themselves. Hadrian had been forward, and truthful, so Trente fought his natural inclination to flee. He took deep, deliberate breaths, and listened with a clear mind to Hadrian's words, unaware of the influence which fell upon him. Though, suspect.

The request to look into the hovering sigil frightened Trente, but he nodded slowly, listening carefully to Hadrian's words, checking himself every few ticks for clarity, asking unrelated questions as mind tricks to keep him sharp. As he could tell, Hadrian was not tampering with his judgement, or his clarity. And so Trente, decided upon Trust, error or not. He gave up on his mind tricks, and looked into the sigil.

"Very well Professor, I am prepared to begin." Trente said clearly, and let the sensations, foreign in his mind seep in. He had no intention of lying, and would not attempt wit to circumvent influence.

[Hadrian]

This was somewhat new territory for Hadrian, who had always been careful about pushing the envelope where hypnotism was concerned. His introduction to it had been morally questionable, but his right acting had earned him the favor of Ionu, and here he used that favor in conjunction with the lessons learned. Normally he only made subtle emotional pushes, not controlling, but greasing the wheels, as it were, making himself seem more trustworthy, less threatening, in a positive light. This was probably why his advancement was slow; the newer tricks he had learned were less often used, not wanting to damage those he hypnotized. But the illusions blanked out visual stimuli for the most part. If Trente sought to escape, of course he would feel the wall and the door with his hands, would smell the wood and stone, but would not see it until the illusion was dispelled. Yet the man was brave enough, and did not flee. The sigil focused his mind as well as Hadrian's aura, which had begun to permeate Trente's own, and when the trance was achieved, Hadrian nodded. "Do you come to me with a will to deceive?" he asked, starting with a broad question.

[Trente]

Trente felt something strange, to b expected. More a tingling of such, though he couldn't place where it was. Something deep in the pit of hims stomach perhaps? Or the back of his head? The talented, and quite frightening Professor has reached inside of him, not just looking, but filling him. In a place he did not know existed, Hadrian had inundated him. Trent was surprised to find little stress in his body, however, He actually felt rather relaxed, and he observed this in a detached analytical way. It was odd, his emotions, and his thoughts, they were there. And logically he was still frightened, he still thought of how he might escape if something went arry. But, he felt surprisingly clear minded. And with so little to focus on the sigil drew him in, and so did that of the young Professor's voice.

"I have no intention to deceive you in any way. Though, I do have the will to do so if I feel I am in danger." Trente thought the truth tasted quite queer on his tongue. He had always thought himself a rather honest man, well at least as of recently, and so to realize there was a potential there to deceive within him came out in an almost contemplative tone. He then realized his body was slipping from him, not in a disoriented or numbing fashion, but almost light headed, as if he were reading, and the world around him, his own body, was fading away. Into the forefront was Hadrian, and his thoughts, spilling out from his mouth without shadow.

Ironically Trente would have allowed for more speech, had he not been wary of where careless words in this state may lead, he could try, likely in vein, to contain his own over zealous tongue.