Closed Researching The Residents [Clyde Sullins]

[Zandelia]

Winter 68th, 513 AV – Gug Andjak

Zandelia had learnt much in the first few days if residence within Sahova, though none of it overly useful – at least directly. For the most part she learnt that she was neither wanted nor seen as useful – she was alive. Pulsers they called the living, sacks of meat or a body ready to be used for a transference of consciousness. Whilst she was sure that she had not been marked for the latter, it was not their style it seemed as it was too much of a petty distraction from their high and mighty workings, she was nevertheless slightly vexed about the former. To come so far and be of no use for one such as her was like being a whore when they had sewn your mouth closed – the big bang was still possible but there was just no politely appropriate way of building up to it.

Still she was nothing if not pragmatic, she would find a way. Most things were simply locks to which a key could be found. Her first step was to gather information, learn customs and generally to observe and absorb. There was little point in charging into a morass of unknown lethality. She was safe now but for how long that would remain without some help was questionable at best. No, she had decided that if the Wizards were there for research then she was there for learning – someone bloody well should be.

And who knows, in my path perhaps and opportunity might present itself. So…hat do we know? They despise the living, but we cannot use that. It is nothing but an obstacle. They are Nuit yes? So…they need new bodies. Without them they die out. Can we use this? se mused to herself as she approached what was known as the Gug Andjak.

“The sailors mentioned that the ship them in…at times. How often? Could a shortage be created? Capitalized on? Or perhaps better supply routes could be devised…” she stopped at that, it was an idea with genuine possibility but she had naught but the bones…she needed the meat.

She sighed and swayed into the first level, level 20 she had been informed, of the Gug Andjak. It was enormous in size and heaved with activity. Corridors, stairwells and rooms beyond counting – each used for the singular process of magical research. She could not fathom how any floors there might be but she was sure there were at least a score or so. She had been informed with clipped tones she could peruse through fie of them – the least important no doubt. How many existed below and above?

Well, if I can’t even find that out I don’t deserve to be me! she affirmed and circles thee main hall slowly in search of a target.

She would need someone suitably open yet distracted – distracted people were far more likely to snap out an answer to get rid of you then take the trouble to guard their tongue over trivialities. Useful idiots existed in abundance, often highly intelligent but without true sense. One of life’s amusing ironies. Her skirts swished as she paced, slippers and dress a deep green with black embroidery. She had learnt in Nyka that it paid to look wealthy and of note – especially if you actually weren’t.

She would find someone suitably fun to play with and learn as much as she could. Perhaps one would even come to her and ask her why she was wandering the floors. Then would come the next, and the next. The world was a tightly packed ball of facts – pull on here, retrieve one there and you could make a space for yourself.

She noticed one fellow who stood out from the crowd, tall and gangly and possessed of an aura of self-assurance. She watched him for some time, wondering what he was doing and whether he was a resident of a visitor such as herself. She leant against a wall so that she was out of the way but within eyesight should he notice her. Sometimes people were made uncomfortable and left, other times they approached or simply ignored her. The character of an individual was easily read from such reactions. She crossed her arms and wondered whether it would be best to approach or not, the battle of consideration within her ebbing and flowing for a number of chimes – he had shown no reaction to her presence.

Very well, ignorance feigned or otherwise she thought as she silently drifted towards him, circled around to the other side of him.

“Interesting setup you have here, I can hardly make out what anything is supposed to do,” she opened with, “I was wondering if you might be able to dispel some of it for me?” she smiled her most demurely disarming smile and wondered if she had picked aright at all.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And if you are rebuffed as the fool there are others to try you luck with she noted.

[Clyde Sullins]

Perhaps if it was wise to look wealthy when one was not, it was also wise to look un-wealthy when one to a degree actually was. Clyde could certainly afford nicer clothes than the apparel he wore on a daily basis. In fact he did own a nicer set of clothes, and had it on the island with him. He simply chose to not wear it about, lest it be damaged and ruined. Simple cotton pants, leather boots, and a well worn wooden staff in his hand were his common accoutrements. And his robes were no nicer looking, appearing as common grey robes, dreary and cheap, something one bought at a side street shop. But then, like his common looking robes, Clyde was more than first appearances might show. Perhaps he might look young and inexperienced, but when it came to magic he had seen and lived through quite a bit. Wearing his robes, he headed through the labs, the occasional swish of them as the hem brushed on the ground. And if one looked at the inside of those robes, they would find something very different. There they would find a pair of fine robes with the symbol of the Ebonstryfe emblazoned on it. But Clyde had that side turned inside out, and instead was showing the poorer side of his reversible robes. Particularly since they were enchanted, he did not want to draw any undue attention to them. And also the Ebonstryfe thing, walking around with their symbol could also draw trouble. Clyde was distracted from trying to puzzle out what experiment this mage was doing, by someone speaking to him. “Interesting setup you have here, I can hardly make out what anything is supposed to do. I was wondering if you might be able to dispel some of it for me?” Clyde glanced at the person speaking, a woman, and then looked back at the "wizard" working his craft. His attention had been drawn to the specific experiment due to the odd Glyphing he was using. It took him another moment or two of staring before he finally unraveled the mystery of the Glyphs... The fool had messed up a simple sigil, and instead of blocking magic from crossing its threshold, he had reversed it and made it a easy passageway for djed. The Glyphs were not unique, instead they were a flawed attempt at something even most new initiates into Glyphing could manage. "This setup? It's not mine. I don't make such rubbish. I was simply trying to puzzle out what he was doing. Clearly though he is not worth the time, not if he messed up such a simple example of the art... I mean really, all he did was try something fancy, and ended up utterly failing." And with that Clyde turned on the spot from where he had been facing the mages experiment, and headed for the hallway, planning to check a different lab, perhaps in hopes of finding someone who actually knew a thing or two more than a fish did about magic.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia was not entirely sure what she was expecting from the scenario but she was certain that she had not been expecting a short glance and a short, sharp response and a sudden exit. Then again she had little experience with mages and the young man was clearly of that variety. His clothing was cheap but serviceable, dull in both style and colour. He carried a wooden staff that looked well-travelled and worn, especially at the base she noticed as she watched him walk away. She was non-plussed for a few seconds as she considered what to do next. The man had already made it a dozen paces or so away from her. She was torn.

Clearly he knows his magic, something worth accruing some intelligence upon, yet he patently does not wish to divulge it – least not to another…master. And I am far from being one of those. Still…arrogance breeds some usable characteristics… she mused for a few moments as her gaze stayed fixed to him. She excluded the world so completely that she did not notice the glare at first.

“On I’m sorry I was thinking about something else, please repeat what you said” she asked the apparently failed mage.

“I said tell your friend to keep his nose out and if he thinks he is so talented to take it up with the Wizards!” they snapped at her.

“Was he right?” she asked sweetly, ignoring the friend comment. Sometimes it paid for others to associate you with the skilled even if it was an illusion.

“I must return to my work” they responded hurriedly, cheeks reddening to indicate the answer.

“What is it you’re doing might I ask?”

“Glyphing!” came the reply, the tone clear and cutting further conversation off.

He turned her back to her and she whisked around, skirts swishing as she tried to catch up with the younger man whom had been so dismissive of the other’s work. He did know his craft and now she knew the name and that was something to work with perhaps, not much but a start. She swept through the corridor as fast as she dared whilst trying not to catch untoward attention. Coming out of the other side she paused and for an instant thought that she had lost him in the bustle. She cursed quietly at a missed opportunity as her gaze flickered left to right, searching and then finding. He was stood at another table now and she approached slowly, not making her presence known for now.

Assess the mark, search for a lever. Anger can work but not wise with the arcane. Greed is possible but not unless you know them well enough to understand their motivations – his seems to seek out talent and you don’t have it. Pride? Arrogance…would that work? she mused, weighing her options.

She looked upon the table and it again held some of the same symbols that had been upon the previous work station – different ones she thought though it was difficult to tell. It was certainly a different pattern and perhaps that indicated a differing purpose? She frowned, attempting to appear deep in thought as she approached the young man’s left shoulder, arms behind her back and hands held together.

“I don’t think he was happy that you caught him out with his bad Glyphing, snapped at me in fact. Sometimes I wish I could put people in their place in this city. Still, you were right. I take it you know the craft better than the ones here,” she opened, this time adopting a slightly more reverential tone, suggestive of the apprentice in the presence of a master, “and you have found more of the same. Anything wrong with this one?” she asked, quietly so that the worker would not hear her whilst they were absorbed in their work.

Is pride a lever for you? Arrogance? Or perhaps you just like to find the mistakes of others? Or I could be making a very big mistake right now… her internal monologue continued.

“The name’s Dasoma, if that matters” she advised, using an alias so that if she gained his wrath it would be fairly easily shrugged off, as long as it was just verbal.

[Clyde Sullins]

After leaving the lab, Clyde wandered around for a bit. He did not really think about the fact of how he had just dismissed the other mans work, nor how the mage might react. But really it was hard not to be judgemental, he had been a better Glypher when he was seven! This was a full grown man, and yet still he could not even measure up, or apparently was so foolish as to take a risk with a set of Glyphs far out of his ability. And that was just asking for trouble. Clyde knew well enough that when one disrespected magic, things did not end well. And if there was one thing Clyde would not tolerate, it was a dangerous practice such as that. By the time he found another lab, this time with someone else using Glyphing more as a subsidiary skill, he had more or less forgotten about the earlier events, instead pressing on to better and more important things. Well he still recalled, his memory was not that bad, but he decided to let it pass and to not mull over it deeper. In this case the nuit was using both a simple focus and barrier setup, the first to aid in focusing his magic, the second to aid in keeping outside djed from interfering with his work. And in a lab such as this, where so many were working, it was a good idea to do as such before attempting anything. His Glyphs were of a drastically different style than both Clyde's own, and that of the wizard earlier, but Clyde could sift through the symbols and understand the intent behind them. It seemed many wizards here knew Glyphing, if nothing else but at a low level, to aid in their other work. By looking at the Glyphs it seemed like this person might actually be lesser in skill than the first man, however he had pulled off his simple usage of Glyphing with more finesse than the utter failure of the man before. And sometimes that was what mattered more, the ability to see ones skill and judge fairly what they could do, not the wild attempts and failures of a fool. Clyde was broken from his thoughts as the same woman from earlier spoke to him again. Apparently she had followed him. The first thing of notice was of course that she was in fact not a nuit, but a living thing like himself. After that though he took a cursory examination of her. Not old truly, but not young either... Shorter than himself by a few inches... Blonde hair. And a injured left eye, with a scar across which did not look to good. She had either been attacked, or had been in fights in her life... That was the limit of what he could gather through a combination of observation, and deductive logic. Logic, an odd skill for a Chaon to have, but nonetheless it was one he had begun to favor. For when you looked about things logically, often you could understand the randomness of the seemingly chaotic. “I don’t think he was happy that you caught him out with his bad Glyphing, snapped at me in fact. Sometimes I wish I could put people in their place in this city. Still, you were right. I take it you know the craft better than the ones here, and you have found more of the same. Anything wrong with this one?” “The name’s Dasoma, if that matters.” Clyde looked back at the woman, and wondered what she wanted. Everyone on Sahova wanted something, well everyone everywhere wanted something but particularly here. He doubted she was just making idle conversation for the sake of enjoying his company. "No, he probably did not, but then he should have known better. As for this one... It is fine, a simple application, but well done. Most people don't use Glyphing as a main skill, instead it is usually used as a secondary one, which admittedly is often good enough for most Glyphers. But then since you can't really do anything with it by itself, without another magic, I suppose it does make sense to not learn it alone..." Clyde paused for a moment, turning to look back at the woman, Dasoma. "So... What is it that you want? Why question me, and what is it that you hope to do by being on Sahova?" Blunt was often a good tactic when question someone. Not the best of interrogation techniques, but sometimes if you caught someone off guard you could get them to speak quickly and honestly, before they had time to fully assess the situation, or in the case of some people to come up with a lie. He also had learned to leave his questions a bit vague, and open ended, in hopes that the person being questioned would fill in the blanks in a better way than a more specific and targeted question allowed. Depending upon the person being asked, his question could actually be answered and taken in several different fashions. Such a non leading question could often be very useful.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia listened, it was one a few skills that she was competent at and one which many overlooked in favour of charging into the fray without consideration. It often paid to be attentive and this occasion was no different. Within a few moments she had learnt something new from idle conversation that she doubted she would have received from any form of demand. The name of a practise and a few points about its uses and relationship to other magic. She tilted her head in consideration at that.

I wonder if it could be used with Auristics? she mused, tucking that away for future thought.

She was closer to the man now than before and as he turned she could get a better picture of her current target. Even in the half-gloom she could see that his skin was darker than most though not in a natural way – a few hints at lighter skin here and there could be seen. He was tanned then and that was suggestive of the outdoors. An interesting characteristic that, in her admittedly little experience with mages, was not something normally associated with his choice of vocation. The most obviously startling point were the eyes, bright blue and putting her in mind of jewels in the way they shimmered.

His gaze was direct and probing though, pinning her own easily and without a flinch as the questions came like hammer blows. Direct and penetrating they brooked no time for fancy replies and preamble.

“To learn,” she answered simply, “I came here to learn. I try to do so as often as possible and about everything I can. It often become useful in interesting ways eventually” she continued, her words not precisely a pack of lies – more half-truths.

“As to why I ask you, you are neither a Nuit nor, it would appear, an amateur and both of those seem like good points from where I stand. Why ask someone who doesn’t know…what was it…a fig about magic?” she smiled at that, a rueful smile.

The first two questions were answered with enough speed so as not to appear contrived. She had weighted her answer to the first and increased the tempo of her speech for the second one ever so slightly. He might possibly notice but hopefully accept it as a form of surprise at his directness. With luck it had bought her enough time to truly think for the third response.

How does one phrase ‘I came to hunt a dead bastard?’ she thought rapidly, seeking a quick answer.

“As for being in Sahova, it was a port in a storm and I weather such things as best I can. I am adaptable at least. I possess my own abilities and seek to develop them. Perhaps an apprenticeship will be mine in the future” she finished, hands still clenched behind her back as she turned to face him fully now and considered her own questions.

To learn…how to learn?

“You are a traveller are you not?” she asked with a solid gaze, “most…Pulser’s are I have been told. Least ways ones who are not locked in a lab with their Master. Why have you come here?” she asked, just as directly.

“Ambition? Curiosity? Now that the TAR no longer functions it seems there may be room for the opportune amongst us. And talent, of course, can get you far. In any discipline” she finished. The waters were rippled and now it was time to see what shape was made.

Sometimes I wish Sunberth hadn’t made me hate magic for so long, I might actually have something more than my mind to stand upon when it came to mages she sighed internally.

[Clyde Sullins]

“To learn, I came here to learn. I try to do so as often as possible and about everything I can. It often become useful in interesting ways eventually.” Clyde stared back at the woman. Those phrases had been just vague enough, to tell him absolutely nothing... Full of fluff, likely true in and of itself, but not with much real content. Like a half starved beast, not offering much meat upon being caught. So often, Clyde was coming to realize, mages tended to speak in such manners, trying to sound grand, and instead ending up speaking a lot while saying nothing. Or perhaps she was purposely being evasive and not revealing much information. It was hard to tell which she was attempting, unneeded fluff, or evasiveness. “As to why I ask you, you are neither a Nuit nor, it would appear, an amateur and both of those seem like good points from where I stand. Why ask someone who doesn’t know…what was it…a fig about magic?” Clyde puzzled at the woman. Her words seemed honest enough, at least at face value, but then Clyde had not lasted this long as a mage on foreign soil by easily trusting others. He was not quite sure what this woman's angle was, but he did not doubt she had one... "Who said anything about figs?" “As for being in Sahova, it was a port in a storm and I weather such things as best I can. I am adaptable at least. I possess my own abilities and seek to develop them. Perhaps an apprenticeship will be mine in the future.” This, if nothing else, further puzzled Clyde. Sahova was not a port in a storm. If all one wanted was a place to stay, then most would just go to Zeltiva. It was more accessible, easier to get alone in. It was a place someone went to for a purpose, not a place one just ended up in by chance or upon a whim... One did not simply go to Sahova for no reason. Not unless they truly were a fool. And Clyde did not feel that this woman was a fool. “You are a traveller are you not? Most pulser’s are I have been told. Least ways ones who are not locked in a lab with their Master. Why have you come here?” “Ambition? Curiosity? Now that the TAR no longer functions it seems there may be room for the opportune amongst us. And talent, of course, can get you far. In any discipline.” "If all you wanted was a port, a place to stay, wouldn't Zeltiva have served your purposes better than this undead isle? As for these abilities you mention, what would those be? You seem rather vague in your speech. I prefer quality in speech, not high quantities of gilded fluff which leave you no more full of knowledge, as you say you seek, than before the words were spoken." "I suppose like you, I have come to learn, to grow, to expand my crafts. And perhaps, just perhaps, to actually learn a new trick or two of use beyond what half of these sad excuses for mages have to show." "Ambition, that is for the drones here, hoping for something they can never achieve. Curiosity? That will simply end with you getting killed, or stored in some cold dark room. I respect magic to much, understand it far to clearly, to seek it for reasons such as those. Perhaps when you understand it better, then you to will see what a fool ambition and curiosity can make you." "Answer me this, why do you want to be a mage? Why did you choose to become one? What do truly seek to gain by it? What sordid little things does it offer you that has convinced you to throw all else away with such abandon?"

[Zandelia]

She listened and assessed, the man was clearly unable to be batted away in his own search for meaning in her motives. His questioning technique seemed akin to blunt trauma, his own pretty words barely covering a verbal mace with which he sought to bludgeon truth form her lips. It had caught her off guard at first but now she was aware of it and that made it easier to deal with. She wondered if he were capable of more subtle conversation or whether he merely chose one tool to see if it worked and kept using it until it failed to do so. Still, she analysed enough to know that if she did not leave some truth behind in her whisperings that he would turn on his heel again.

And I have yet to even learn his name, though a few other titbits I now possess. It seems that I am losing this exchange. Still…better to lose with style than anything else she told herself.

“You speak of flaws as if only other’s possess them. Are you so sure of yourself?” she questioned, matching his technique with her own bluntness, “is arrogance not a flaw? In my time here I have seen it in varying degrees to be sure. Yet the way you speak, as if you are so sure, is dangerous in itself isn’t it?”

She glanced back to the table as she pursued that line of thinking. He was arrogant, young and brash some might say. Did he think himself immortal of just not prone to the petty vices that others suffered when it came to the craft of magic? She suspected that it was the latter. He seemed to be stating, between the words, that he was more talented than those he stood around. If that were true then at least a portion of wisdom concerning caution must have been in his possession.

“Quality of speech is also a matter of perspective I think, it depends upon the discerning of the other participant. But very well, quality you will have,” she continued smoothly, her voice a little stronger and surer, “sordid secrets are precisely what I seek to gain from advancing my own craft. It is what I am good at. Admittedly it takes other talents than the magic of Auristics but it helps” she smiled then.

“And I am not sure I wish to become one, or whether one is just born a mage. I have heard it said that anything can be learnt but then surely it would take a particular mind with particular talents to truly be called a mage. And it is not so much what I can gain as what others might gain from me…should I truly excel one day”

She turned her gaze back to him then, watching for anything his body language might give. Was he offended? Did he enjoy the bluntness of her speech now or did it cause him instead to retreat? He was a strange one, removed from those around him in his manner if nothing else.

“Which brings me back to curiosity. Magical research, as I understand it, is sparked by curiosity. The idea of what might be possible. Of course it should be married with caution but it is not necessarily a vice. Were you never inspired by something? Filled with a dream, the first flames of which ignited by the question ‘what if?’” she asked rhetorically, most people were at some point in life and it was safe to say he had been at some point too.

“What do you gain from your craft if I may reflect the question? Why did you come here if those here can only teach you a trick or two? With such ascribed talent could you not found your won school? Fund your own tasks?”

There, just enough said but nothing too filled with depth. I doubt he would respect me at all, if he even can, if I spilled everything to his foray of questioning she told herself

[Clyde Sullins]

“You speak of flaws as if only other’s possess them. Are you so sure of yourself? Is arrogance not a flaw? In my time here I have seen it in varying degrees to be sure. Yet the way you speak, as if you are so sure, is dangerous in itself isn’t it?” Clyde grinned back at the woman for a moment, and then shook his head. "There is a difference between arrogance, and stating a fact. Do you call a man arrogant, for looking up to the sky and saying it is blue? No, for he is simply stating a fact of something he has seen and knows is true irrevocably. Admittedly magic tends and its inherent knowledge tends to be a bit more hard earned than a man craning up his neck, but don't assume that I show arrogance for what I say. Every last tidbit of it was hard earned through blood, sweat, and tears. Occasionally my own." Another small grin came over his face, as he said the last words, and ended with a joke. “Quality of speech is also a matter of perspective I think, it depends upon the discerning of the other participant. But very well, quality you will have. Sordid secrets are precisely what I seek to gain from advancing my own craft. It is what I am good at. Admittedly it takes other talents than the magic of Auristics but it helps.” Clyde nodded, perhaps for the first time actually hearing a small grain of fact within the mass of her words. She had admitted her goal was in and of itself the seeking of secrets, of learning and discerning them. And she had also revealed her magic, or one of them, that of Auristics. Or at least, that was the magic she professed to know. It would take a deeper level of discerning to prove that true or false. “And I am not sure I wish to become one, or whether one is just born a mage. I have heard it said that anything can be learnt but then surely it would take a particular mind with particular talents to truly be called a mage. And it is not so much what I can gain as what others might gain from me…should I truly excel one day” "It is true, not everyone can be a mage. But this often has little to do with innate limits in ability. It is more about other qualities to a person, restraint or lack thereof, a desire for power, for knowledge, for strength, or the opposite. Mastering a magic has less to do with a single act of great mastery, than it does with controlling your djed and yourself and your innate desires on a daily basis. And if you can continue to do that for long enough, well then mastery might be yours." Clyde was not offended by her speech, after all it had not been a vengeful or hateful utterance, not meant to intentionally harm him or his ego. No, it was simply a casual comment, at least in Clyde's mind. A debate. And debating was one thing Clyde certainly did enjoy doing. “Which brings me back to curiosity. Magical research, as I understand it, is sparked by curiosity. The idea of what might be possible. Of course it should be married with caution but it is not necessarily a vice. Were you never inspired by something? Filled with a dream, the first flames of which ignited by the question ‘what if?" “What do you gain from your craft if I may reflect the question? Why did you come here if those here can only teach you a trick or two? With such ascribed talent could you not found your won school? Fund your own tasks?” "Capability is one thing, will and intent yet another. Likely I could spin a tale of djed that would teach you quite a lot, but why would I? Just because I have the capability to do something, does not mean I should. I am interested in my magics, in making forays into new areas of it, of learning more of it and what can be done with it... But not at the cost of myself." Clyde looked at the woman once more, and then turned away, examining the Glypher, who seemed to have finished his task. "Besides, I find myself more interested in learning of things I know not, of which I know little, than these things I know the most of. When one has climbed to the top of a hill, one does not simply stand there at the top and waste away. No, one finds a new hill to climb, a new challenge, and tests himself against something he is new to."

[Zandelia]

“Only occasionally?” she raised an eyebrow at that comment with a small smile, “perhaps you may have been more lucky than controlled? I have seen many mages who sport damage here. Still, I will accept your claim that you know what you are about – I have nothing to prove to the contrary” she continued smoothly.

So, perhaps not as arrogant as I first thought. Adept one could say, if his claims are true. He certainly seems to know his abilities and has thought upon them at length…perhaps she wondered to herself.

She counted herself amongst the lucky in that regard, she had not suffered overly much for what little she had cultivated of her own magic. She was more cautious now in its use, mostly only after meditation or when at need. In truth her curiosity drove her to sue it more often, she could not deny she enjoyed the feeling of power it gave her over others. Yet at that moments she did not need it and so let it be – it was obvious that Clyde was a little more well-disposed to this turn of conversation. The concepts of magic and philosophy seemed to give him a spark, a glow where before had just been metaphorical thorns upon which she could only prick herself.

It was time to push a little perhaps.

“You say you would not do it at cost to yourself, that is wise of course. But you speak as if helping to teach others is by definition negative. Do you not accept the argument that, perhaps, if chosen wisely then your pupils could even aid you in your quest for knowledge?” she asked softly.

She had little designs upon learning from him but he had laid the foundations for a response and whatever small things she could glean from him meant that she held another piece of the puzzle that was this man. He had not yet even given his name, which seemed odd. That he would debate his thoughts and yet not tell her his name was intriguing. She wondered if it were miss-placed paranoia or just casual forgetfulness upon details he considered to be trivial.

The mastery would be nice though, if I am but a novice then I wonder just how much more sue I could get out of a mastery of Auristics…

“Perhaps it is better to be collaborative over isolationist? After all, isn’t what this place practises isolationist? And did you not just dismiss someone as a fool who should have known better? Sometimes it is better to use others, even if you try to get more out of them than they get out of you”

She watched his glance about then, sensing that she was losing ground in his estimation of her perhaps. He was searching, looking for other magic she was sure – she had to be quick to ingratiate herself into that quest for at least a little while or she could see herself being dismissed. The Glyphing was what he was looking at now and with their current line of conversation she could not easily get a question about it into the verbal exchange.

Damn! she cursed herself for not being more in control of the scenario. Still…adaptation was a trait of hers.

“A new hill? And then another and another and another…going on for forever. A large task to set yourself, or perhaps just the nature of anyone with a trade or skill. If you would humour me then, what hill are you seeking to climb now? What newness do you not yet command but wish to? Surely not this work here, seeing as you know of it already” she asked.

The question was an honest one, natural as an extension of their dialogue. There was little shadowed within it and she hoped that he would at least answer her partially.

And just what is a master glypher…if he is suggesting as such…doing down here with those he obviously outstrips? she wondered to herself in silence, assessing him further as his gaze was not turned to her.

[Clyde Sullins]

“Only occasionally? Perhaps you may have been more lucky than controlled? I have seen many mages who sport damage here. Still, I will accept your claim that you know what you are about – I have nothing to prove to the contrary” Clyde could not help a hand brushing across his face, something that might appear as a normal motion, or might bring the notice of the other human. It was at the mention of sporting damage that he did it. He could not help subconsciously brushing at his now clear face, which until a few years ago had sported a series of burn scars from when he was a child. But then those injuries had not been of his own fault, not due to his own mistakes, but due to a random attack on him and another mage... They where not truly signs of his own mistakes or errors. "If you know much of magic, then you should know it is the damage not seen that is the worse type, not the scars and physical damage. Those heal in time. But with less physical effects of magic, time only does so much." This of course referred to overgiving, but also too the experiences Clyde had partaken in. Death, death, so much death he was almost an acquaintance of Dira. Men with blood seeping from wounds, clawed up or throats ripped out by zith... Overrun by yukman... The smell of sizzling flesh and burning hair... A human man clutching at his gut with a glassy look in his eyes, staring you back without seeing you. A man being skewered by an earthen spike, killed instantly as it broke his spine... When Clyde finally spoke, a full chime had passed with Clyde in silence. "Don't assume that the only scars are the ones that mark your body." Part of what he said was genuine emotion, genuine pain at his own memories and past events... But it was also a shifting in style, far different from his earlier head on questioning. But then, was it truly acting, if you were simply being honest and truly using the emotions as they came forth? “You say you would not do it at cost to yourself, that is wise of course. But you speak as if helping to teach others is by definition negative. Do you not accept the argument that, perhaps, if chosen wisely then your pupils could even aid you in your quest for knowledge?” "Knowledge is like a bird in a cage. Teaching is like opening the door, and offering the bird its freedom. Once it flies away, who is to say what that bird will do... Such is magic." "Who is to say what end a pupil will truthfully use my teachings for. I have had pupils before, some are still alive, some are not. Most I doubt I will ever see again. But I doubt many of them use what I taught them in the way I envisioned. I don't think all my prior choices of pupils where poorly chosen. I simply think that the chances of finding a proper student is not to likely..." “Perhaps it is better to be collaborative over isolationist? After all, isn’t what this place practises isolationist? And did you not just dismiss someone as a fool who should have known better? Sometimes it is better to use others, even if you try to get more out of them than they get out of you” "Isn't that what making a deal is? Both sides attempt to gain the upper hand, to gain more than the other, but one must always fall on the side who gains less. Or was that an offer, are you offering for me to use you?" “A new hill? And then another and another and another…going on for forever. A large task to set yourself, or perhaps just the nature of anyone with a trade or skill. If you would humour me then, what hill are you seeking to climb now? What newness do you not yet command but wish to? Surely not this work here, seeing as you know of it already” "Glyphing is a interesting thing, I doubt I have fully achieved an understanding of every measure of it. But then many a mountain has a hidden cleft or cave full of untold things. Even those ones I know the best, probably stll contain things I could afford to learn more different things of." "As for what other things I am newly learning... I have several lowly skills in regards to magic... But often learning it by ones lonesome is not easy. I would not mind learning a bit more of voiding. Though I am unsure how you could help in its regard."