Siege and then raffle... so, you're clearly having a very strange Christmas at the Community Centre :) I assume that you're holding a raffle, for which the prizes are so highly sought after (a map of Sarlacc's pit?) that you've been under siege for several days by people determined to be first to get tickets?
The raffle It was a real relief to leave the tenement building and though the policemen could do nothing against a magical attack it was still reassuring to have them there, either side of her, solid and dependable. Even so, Elizabeth couldn't relax and seemed to have a phantom headache all the way back to Lord Vileburn's office. The policemen departed before she entered the building and she trudged, feeling tired and heavy, up worn stone stairs that took her round the edges of a magnificent entrance hall. Normally the tapestries, brasswork and portraits of dead Kings and Queens lifted her spirits, but this time the noble gazes felt accusatory and the brassy fittings just flicked flashes of light into a stressed brain. She knocked on Lord Vileburn's door and received no answer, which was entirely normal for a Lord Magical. She contemplated leaving, finding a comfortable chair and falling asleep for a few hours but the presence of the spell in her mind niggled at her and made her doubt that she'd sleep at all. She placed her hand on the doorframe and concentrated, drawing a tiny amount of power through herself. The lock in the door clicked and the door swung open revealing an empty room. Lord Vileburn apparently was happy for her to wait for him here. She went inside, looking at the chairs that were stacked with books and papers, the desk covered with more books and papers, and the windowsills that were covered with semi-precious stones, lumps of pewter and -- for some reason -- a collection of jade frogs holding raffle tickets. Naturally there was nowhere to sit in this office. The door swung shut behind her, and she felt the gentle tick in the flow of Power; this was an entirely automated spell. Similarly the door to the study swung open, and now she allowed herself a half-smile. Here were chairs and a table, fresh paper and several pens. She was not to sit and wait patiently like a lap-dog, she was to... damnit, he was expecting her to work! Writing down the details of the spell and its framework eased the headache, and as she did so she began to understand better. The spell that she had retrieved was incomplete still, she'd known that, but defeating the bound spirit had filled in some gaps. They pulled on other parts of the spell, where there were still gaps that needed to be filled with support, and maintaining the spell structure in her mind meant she was having to pull back against it. Hence the headache and her inability to pin down what it meant. Quite to her surprise and pleasure she discovered that the pens on the desk were all different colours, so as the main framework was drawn out, she switched colours and began annotating. And as that fell into place, she got up and collected a handful of objects from the windowsill, and started to build a model of the casting circle that the spell would require. Like a jigsaw puzzle, more parts of the spell started to become obvious, even when they were missing parts, and with yet another colour she indicated on the paper what she thought was needed to make the spell work.
An odd buzzing noise, like a swarm -- no, like swarms, she thought -- pulled her thoughts away from the spell briefly, and she realised that she was cramped and stiff from leaning over the desk. How long...? Then she realised that there was sunlight falling on the wall in front of her, and warmth on her back, and she turned, wondering what could be happening. Lord Vileburn stepped through a portal, the gate to the Enclave closing behind him and cutting off the sunlight and the buzzing noise. "Ah, Elizabeth," he said, smiling broadly. It was convincing, but she was sure she'd seen real tiredness on his face when he was stood in the gateway. "You're back! And... it looks like you've discovered something." He came to the desk and looked over her notes and the casting circle. "A very complicated something," he said, sounding much more thoughtful. He picked up a jade frog from the circle and frowned. "Where did you get this?" "Your windowsill," said Elizabeth. She realised she wanted to stretch, but Lord Vileburn was stood too close. "Um, I just needed some placeholders, and... well actually, I think jade is a very good choice there. Pleonastic resonance." "Hmm, it makes sense when it's between amber and praesolite," said Lord Vileburn. He thought for a few moments longer, and nodded. "That said, it's rare in Poland, and it's unlikely that the Russian Hierophants would sell jade to the King. Canada is producing some beautiful jade, but our own King has the better trade agreements there. Labdaris would have selected something else." Elizabeth shrugged. "Then we might have a better spell," she said. Memnith had noticed the raffle ticket, and plucked it from the frog's grasp. "Hah," he said, and his smile took on added warmth. "I remember this raffle. The King offered it six or seven years ago. Derby won, which in retrospect, I think we all should have seen coming. He only bought a single ticket too." "What did he win?" "You should ask him yourself," said Memnith. "He'll enjoy telling you. Now, I can't see any cups or plates. Have you not eaten since you returned?" Elizabeth took the opportunity to push her chair back, stand and stretch. "No," she said, realising that she was light-headed. "Then let us find some food," said Lord Vileburn, offering her his arm.
3 comments:
Siege and then raffle... so, you're clearly having a very strange Christmas at the Community Centre :) I assume that you're holding a raffle, for which the prizes are so highly sought after (a map of Sarlacc's pit?) that you've been under siege for several days by people determined to be first to get tickets?
The raffle
It was a real relief to leave the tenement building and though the policemen could do nothing against a magical attack it was still reassuring to have them there, either side of her, solid and dependable. Even so, Elizabeth couldn't relax and seemed to have a phantom headache all the way back to Lord Vileburn's office. The policemen departed before she entered the building and she trudged, feeling tired and heavy, up worn stone stairs that took her round the edges of a magnificent entrance hall. Normally the tapestries, brasswork and portraits of dead Kings and Queens lifted her spirits, but this time the noble gazes felt accusatory and the brassy fittings just flicked flashes of light into a stressed brain. She knocked on Lord Vileburn's door and received no answer, which was entirely normal for a Lord Magical. She contemplated leaving, finding a comfortable chair and falling asleep for a few hours but the presence of the spell in her mind niggled at her and made her doubt that she'd sleep at all.
She placed her hand on the doorframe and concentrated, drawing a tiny amount of power through herself. The lock in the door clicked and the door swung open revealing an empty room. Lord Vileburn apparently was happy for her to wait for him here.
She went inside, looking at the chairs that were stacked with books and papers, the desk covered with more books and papers, and the windowsills that were covered with semi-precious stones, lumps of pewter and -- for some reason -- a collection of jade frogs holding raffle tickets. Naturally there was nowhere to sit in this office. The door swung shut behind her, and she felt the gentle tick in the flow of Power; this was an entirely automated spell. Similarly the door to the study swung open, and now she allowed herself a half-smile. Here were chairs and a table, fresh paper and several pens. She was not to sit and wait patiently like a lap-dog, she was to... damnit, he was expecting her to work!
Writing down the details of the spell and its framework eased the headache, and as she did so she began to understand better. The spell that she had retrieved was incomplete still, she'd known that, but defeating the bound spirit had filled in some gaps. They pulled on other parts of the spell, where there were still gaps that needed to be filled with support, and maintaining the spell structure in her mind meant she was having to pull back against it. Hence the headache and her inability to pin down what it meant.
Quite to her surprise and pleasure she discovered that the pens on the desk were all different colours, so as the main framework was drawn out, she switched colours and began annotating. And as that fell into place, she got up and collected a handful of objects from the windowsill, and started to build a model of the casting circle that the spell would require. Like a jigsaw puzzle, more parts of the spell started to become obvious, even when they were missing parts, and with yet another colour she indicated on the paper what she thought was needed to make the spell work.
An odd buzzing noise, like a swarm -- no, like swarms, she thought -- pulled her thoughts away from the spell briefly, and she realised that she was cramped and stiff from leaning over the desk. How long...? Then she realised that there was sunlight falling on the wall in front of her, and warmth on her back, and she turned, wondering what could be happening.
Lord Vileburn stepped through a portal, the gate to the Enclave closing behind him and cutting off the sunlight and the buzzing noise.
"Ah, Elizabeth," he said, smiling broadly. It was convincing, but she was sure she'd seen real tiredness on his face when he was stood in the gateway. "You're back! And... it looks like you've discovered something." He came to the desk and looked over her notes and the casting circle. "A very complicated something," he said, sounding much more thoughtful. He picked up a jade frog from the circle and frowned. "Where did you get this?"
"Your windowsill," said Elizabeth. She realised she wanted to stretch, but Lord Vileburn was stood too close. "Um, I just needed some placeholders, and... well actually, I think jade is a very good choice there. Pleonastic resonance."
"Hmm, it makes sense when it's between amber and praesolite," said Lord Vileburn. He thought for a few moments longer, and nodded. "That said, it's rare in Poland, and it's unlikely that the Russian Hierophants would sell jade to the King. Canada is producing some beautiful jade, but our own King has the better trade agreements there. Labdaris would have selected something else."
Elizabeth shrugged. "Then we might have a better spell," she said.
Memnith had noticed the raffle ticket, and plucked it from the frog's grasp. "Hah," he said, and his smile took on added warmth. "I remember this raffle. The King offered it six or seven years ago. Derby won, which in retrospect, I think we all should have seen coming. He only bought a single ticket too."
"What did he win?"
"You should ask him yourself," said Memnith. "He'll enjoy telling you. Now, I can't see any cups or plates. Have you not eaten since you returned?"
Elizabeth took the opportunity to push her chair back, stand and stretch. "No," she said, realising that she was light-headed.
"Then let us find some food," said Lord Vileburn, offering her his arm.
Greg - we're raffling off a wolf. Very popular idea around here.
Glad to see these two reunited. The recreation of the spell is beautifully done. And Elizabeth is fast becoming a favorite character of mine.
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