Chapter 2
Draykin strode into the Host-Tower with more than a little trepidation. There were many wizards scurrying about, cursing his presence, but still trying to make it a point stay out of his way. They all stared at the sword that was sheathed at his belt. The arcanists, Draykin thought, might well think this would be the sword that he had made an infamous reputation among the arcane scholars with. He chuckled in his own mind; would they really think him so stupid as to walk Magicide right into the tower and put it at arms reach from them. Few mages appreciated the job that Draykin was doing: killing rogue and dangerous wizards who often went mad with the power that they held at their very fingertips, but the majority thought it was wrong to let anyone but another wizard do the job. No, Draykin did not bring his beloved blade into the tower, but he did have very many other hidden magical trinkets on his person; if their was one thing Draykin loved more than raiding a wizard's horde of magic items after he had done his work, he could not think of it. Draykin strode right up to a rather young wizard, probably not even 12 years old studying a spell book at a desk in the middle of the ground floor in the tower. Most likely an apprentice. The wizard did not even look up at him. Draykin rang a small bell that was on the desk. "Can I help you", the still reading apprentice said without too much enthusiasm. "I'm looking for Master Greenwood's office", Draykin replied The wizard turned a page in the book and didn't answer. Draykin rolled his eyes and wondered if anyone would really care if he picked up the spell book and beat the discourteous youth with it. "I said, I am looking for Greenwood's Office", Draykin said loudly and slowly, as if the wizard were mentally handicapped. The wizard sighed and slammed the book shut. He then looked right up into Draykin's face and gave him a disgusted look. "Do you have an appointment?" "Yes", Draykin said curtly. "And your name is...," the wizard asked. "Draykin Tulk", the now very much agitated fighter replied. The wizard took out a scroll and ran his finger down the thick paper. He then rolled it back up, and placed it back in the desk. "Your appointment is not for 2 days, Tulk" "I finished my last assignment early", Draykin said very agitatedly. "Well appointments are appointments, now run along", the wizard said dismissively, and then reopened his spell book. Draykin bent down so that he could whisper into the wizard's ear. "Listen to me very carefully you little heap of orc dung. If you do not run and tell Greenwood that I am here and would very much like to speak with him right now, I shall saw open your head, take that little book of yours, and place it inside. That way, it will be easier to memorize your spells, and you won't be so tempted to read on the job. Now you run along, you pre- pubescent little excuse for a mage." The young wizard stared at him for a moment with eyes bugged, and then with the intelligence required to practice his chosen trade, ran off with all haste toward Greenwood's office. He returned an agonizingly long five minutes later, carrying a small sheet of parchment. The apprentice eagerly handed Draykin the sheet and waved him down the hallway he had just returned from. "Master Greenwood says that you know the drill." "That I do," replied a very agitated Draykin. By this time he was growing short on patience. There was a reason he finished the assignment a few days early, and she did not like to be kept waiting. Draykin took up a brisk gait down the hallway, stopping when he reached a painting depicting an aged mage glancing over his spell book by candle- light, completely unaware of the red set of eyes watching him from behind his back in the darkness. Draykin then checked to see if anyone was around, and then rapped on the wall next to the painting in a specific beat. A voice emanated from deep inside the painting, it belonged to the pair of eyes Draykin suspected, "Password..." Draykin unfolded the sheet of parchment and looked down at the selected password for the day, he sighed at his old master's subtle sense of humor, "prevenient." The painting shimmered and then disappeared, quickly followed by the wall behind it. Draykin then stepped into another hallway, one that didn't exist, officially anyway. He'd done this many a time before. Walking exactly ten paces into the hallway, he then turned to face the left wall, and knocked on the block of stone that was mortared right in front of his face. A section of the wall on the right side of the hallway, directly behind the direction in which Draykin had faced to knock on the block of stone, slid away.
Draykin strode into the Host-Tower with more than a little trepidation. There were many wizards scurrying about, cursing his presence, but still trying to make it a point stay out of his way. They all stared at the sword that was sheathed at his belt. The arcanists, Draykin thought, might well think this would be the sword that he had made an infamous reputation among the arcane scholars with. He chuckled in his own mind; would they really think him so stupid as to walk Magicide right into the tower and put it at arms reach from them. Few mages appreciated the job that Draykin was doing: killing rogue and dangerous wizards who often went mad with the power that they held at their very fingertips, but the majority thought it was wrong to let anyone but another wizard do the job. No, Draykin did not bring his beloved blade into the tower, but he did have very many other hidden magical trinkets on his person; if their was one thing Draykin loved more than raiding a wizard's horde of magic items after he had done his work, he could not think of it. Draykin strode right up to a rather young wizard, probably not even 12 years old studying a spell book at a desk in the middle of the ground floor in the tower. Most likely an apprentice. The wizard did not even look up at him. Draykin rang a small bell that was on the desk. "Can I help you", the still reading apprentice said without too much enthusiasm. "I'm looking for Master Greenwood's office", Draykin replied The wizard turned a page in the book and didn't answer. Draykin rolled his eyes and wondered if anyone would really care if he picked up the spell book and beat the discourteous youth with it. "I said, I am looking for Greenwood's Office", Draykin said loudly and slowly, as if the wizard were mentally handicapped. The wizard sighed and slammed the book shut. He then looked right up into Draykin's face and gave him a disgusted look. "Do you have an appointment?" "Yes", Draykin said curtly. "And your name is...," the wizard asked. "Draykin Tulk", the now very much agitated fighter replied. The wizard took out a scroll and ran his finger down the thick paper. He then rolled it back up, and placed it back in the desk. "Your appointment is not for 2 days, Tulk" "I finished my last assignment early", Draykin said very agitatedly. "Well appointments are appointments, now run along", the wizard said dismissively, and then reopened his spell book. Draykin bent down so that he could whisper into the wizard's ear. "Listen to me very carefully you little heap of orc dung. If you do not run and tell Greenwood that I am here and would very much like to speak with him right now, I shall saw open your head, take that little book of yours, and place it inside. That way, it will be easier to memorize your spells, and you won't be so tempted to read on the job. Now you run along, you pre- pubescent little excuse for a mage." The young wizard stared at him for a moment with eyes bugged, and then with the intelligence required to practice his chosen trade, ran off with all haste toward Greenwood's office. He returned an agonizingly long five minutes later, carrying a small sheet of parchment. The apprentice eagerly handed Draykin the sheet and waved him down the hallway he had just returned from. "Master Greenwood says that you know the drill." "That I do," replied a very agitated Draykin. By this time he was growing short on patience. There was a reason he finished the assignment a few days early, and she did not like to be kept waiting. Draykin took up a brisk gait down the hallway, stopping when he reached a painting depicting an aged mage glancing over his spell book by candle- light, completely unaware of the red set of eyes watching him from behind his back in the darkness. Draykin then checked to see if anyone was around, and then rapped on the wall next to the painting in a specific beat. A voice emanated from deep inside the painting, it belonged to the pair of eyes Draykin suspected, "Password..." Draykin unfolded the sheet of parchment and looked down at the selected password for the day, he sighed at his old master's subtle sense of humor, "prevenient." The painting shimmered and then disappeared, quickly followed by the wall behind it. Draykin then stepped into another hallway, one that didn't exist, officially anyway. He'd done this many a time before. Walking exactly ten paces into the hallway, he then turned to face the left wall, and knocked on the block of stone that was mortared right in front of his face. A section of the wall on the right side of the hallway, directly behind the direction in which Draykin had faced to knock on the block of stone, slid away.