Chapter 22: A Day in the Life of Mel

- Astor, outside marble tower. Approximately six hours ago. -

Mellandra shrugged and started to walk away from the interesting group that she had just recently met. "I have some errands to attend to here in the city before we leave. As entertaining as you are, I have other things that require my attention. I will meet with you at the tavern once more" she said as she strode off down the street. "Although, you can bet I will want to meet back up with you. I get the feeling you will all be able to help with my unique...problem" she thought.

For now though, she had a task to do, and only a day in which to do it now that the group she was interested in had a deadline. Better hurry up her plans… First, she would need to visit this town's famous magical college, or the "Coaxial college" to most.

Mel walked down one of the main streets that stretched out from the central tower, the one she knew led straight to the college. Even if she didn't know the way already, the college itself was difficult to miss. Raising her head in order to look up and over the buildings currently in her line of view, the college loomed over the western side of the city. One of the few buildings to rival the marble tower in size and grandeur, any similarities it held to it ended there.

The college was tall, yes, but it was not all smooth edges and gleaming white marble. Instead, it looked...lumpy. From a distance at least. This became clearer as you approached. The building's odd shape was revealed to be due to numerous, separate buildings that had apparently been melded onto the original over time. Each lump had a different style, resulting in a very mismatched building.

It also seemed as though the architect that had made the additions had had an aversion to adding to the ground floor. This meant that the entire building was very top-heavy, with the lower parts only consisting of a relatively small castle-like building. This resulted in an incredibly unbalanced design that simply couldn't support itself in normal circumstances.

However, this was a magic college. Clearly something arcane was at work to keep the place from toppling over, though what sort, Mel could not even pretend to know. Shaking her head of these thoughts, she looked down at the base of the building now that she was close enough to see it clearer.

At the base of the building, however, was one of the many marble walls that intersected the city into districts. This wall apparently surrounded the college, preventing entry on foot unless you had permission. At the end of the street sat one of the numerous similar gatehouses, whose door was currently closed.

Mel frowned, before shrugging and approaching. "They have to have a way of allowing visitors, right?" When she was within a few feet of the gatehouse, it became apparent that, although the portcullis was down, there was a man sitting upon a wooden stool just inside. He appeared to be engrossed in what looked to be a scroll of parchment, his legs crossed and his raised foot tapping to some unheard rhythm.

Approaching the barrier, she crossed her arms and waited for a moment for the man to notice her presence. When he did not immediately do so, she gives a less than subtle cough. Stopping his tapping, the man lowered the parchment and turned to look at Mel. "Yes? Can I help you?"

Mel gestured to the gate in front of her. "Probably. Think you could let me in? I have business at the college." The man shrugged, before beginning to carefully roll up his scroll of parchment. "That depends. New student are you? In which case I'll need to see your parchment work first" he said as he set his scroll down into a satchel by his side.

Mel shook her head with a chuckle. "Not a student, no. I was hoping to find someone to help me with a problem of an...arcane nature." The man sighed and stood from his stool. "I'm afraid that I can't let you in for something so frivolous. Only students and faculty are allowed onto the grounds."

Mel frowned again. "Then how does one gain help from the college's experts, if we cannot even reach out to them?" The man shrugged. "Most of the college's residents are busy. They would be happy to help you if they have the time to spare, however." Mel scowled "I am willing to pay, if that is what you mean." The man shook his head "Money has little value to most here at the college...knowledge is the currency with which we barter here" he stated.

Mel shifted a little "Even if lives are at stake?" she questioned. The man gave her a curious look, before sighing and sitting back upon the stool. "The college does not get involved in matters such as war or disease or…" Mel interrupted before he could continue. "It's not war that is the problem, it's...you know what? Fine, whatever. You are clearly of no help. Is there no way I can get assistance with my problem?" she asked in frustration.

The man stretched and retrieved his scroll once more. "You can write out a request for assistance. I will take it back to the college and pass it onto the faculty. If the request catches the eye of any of them, they will get in contact with you and arrange a meeting. If you don't hear anything, well...you were simply not interesting enough." Here he gave Mel a small smirk.

Mel rested her hands on her hips in defiance. "And if what I wish to ask is confidential?" The man simply looked away and unrolled his parchment, responding "Then you won't find help here." Mel fumed, undecided on what to do. Eventually, she stomped her foot and sighed, before flopping to the floor and opening her satchel. Retrieving a scrap of parchment and a quill, she tapped her chin in thought as to how exactly to word her request.

"I need it to be interesting enough to catch attention without giving away exactly why I need help…" she thought to herself. After a few moments, she scribbled down a short message. Looking it over and nodding in satisfaction, she placed her quill away and approached the guard once more. She thrust the piece of paper through the gate, where he grabbed it from her without even looking away from his reading.

"That had better at least get to the professors. I'm confident it will be of interest to at least one" she said, to which he simply saluted her with the hand that still grasped her note, before shoving it into his satchel. Realising she wasn't going to get any more out of the guard, Mel turned on her heel and started to march back down the street. Her mood was considerably more foul than it had been merely an hour before.

When she got part way down the street, she turned and glared at the offending wall between her and her goal. "It's not exactly very high. I could simply find an alley beside it and fly over…" However, after a moment of considering this, Mel shook her head and sighed. "But it's a magic college. I would be foolish to think they do not have something in place to prevent entry by simple flight."

Turning once more, Mel walked leisurely through the streets of Astor, back towards the Mermaid Inn. Might as well relax as best as she could while she waited for someone to return her request. A short ten minute walk later found Mel entering the currently quiet tavern.

Due to the low level of patrons, it did not take long for her to spot Rogon and Nai'sh, still sitting at the same central table they had been before, though now Rogon had more than a couple of empty tankards littering the area in front of him. Shrugging, Mel walked towards the pair.

Before she reached the table, Rogon noticed her approach and smiled widely, raising the still partly full tankard in his hand in greeting. "'Ello there lass. Wandered where you got to after the whole tower thing" he boomed, before taking another swig of his drink. Nai'sh simply nodded in greeting, one which Mel returned as she sat down.

"Oh, I just had a personal errand to run. One that has yet to reach a satisfactory conclusion, but may yet bear fruit. I simply have some time to kill now" Mel explained. Nai'sh raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but did not choose to question her. Rogon chuckled loudly "Well then, pull up a chair and grab yourself a drink why don't ya?"

Mel cast a curious eye over Rogon as he finished his current tankard and rose to go and get another. She then turned to the quiet Na'ish, who was still nursing a single tankard. "It's a bit early for heavy drinking, isn't it?" Initially, Na'ish remained silent, though he did cast what could have been a concerned look at Rogon. Just as Mel thought he was going to remain quiet and not answer her, he looked back at her instead.

"As you know, he and Garrick had a...disagreement in the tower." Here, Mel nodded. It was clear that, at the very least, Garrick did not like Rogon much. "Well, something happened before we split ways to go and search the Duke's residence. There is something that is clearly bothering Rogon, and it would seem Garrick holds the answer. He is less than forward in providing it, however." Na'ish explained, before taking a small sip of his drink.

Mel frowned. "That doesn't surprise me. I've only known him a day, and Garrick strikes me as the stubborn sort." Na'ish did not react to the comment, perhaps a better indication of his agreement than any. Before they could continue, Rogon returned with three more tankards. He slid one each to Mel and Na'ish, before the three chatted about their day so far. Mel was fascinated to hear what had been found out at the Duke's.

After chatting for a while, Mel's attention was drawn to the entrance as a man entered the tavern. While not the first to enter while they had been sitting there, he was certainly the most eye-catching.

He was a tall, thin human who looked to be nearing his 80th summer. Upon his wrinkled face sat small, circular spectacles that had bright, astute eyes behind them. It was his choice of apparel that truly set him apart, however. He wore a long, tattered cloak that spoke of escapades whilst travelling, though the colour scheme was far from suitable for such. It was a deep, royal blue with contrasting bright white embroidery around the edges. This same embroidery formed the occasional pattern across the front and back.

It was impossible to tell what he wore underneath the large cloak. His boots were heavy, again suitable for travel, though appeared to be spotless from a casual glance. Finally, he had a dark grey flat-cap resting upon his head.

Mel watched in interest as the man glanced around before striding towards the bar and catching the attention of the barkeeper. After a brief conversation, the barkeeper nodded in the direction of Mel's table, prompting the man to turn and see Mel looking at him curiously. Nodding in thanks to the barkeeper, the man strode towards her with purpose.

When near, he spoke with a warm and wise voice, "Greetings. Would you be the Lady Mellandra?" Mel nodded, "Indeed I am. Would you be someone from the college willing to aid me?" Here the man smiled widely, before removing his cap and sweeping into a low bow. "Indeed I am Miss. I am Asmodeaus Fulcrum, Professor of Spiritology for the Coaxial College."

He straightened himself and replaced his cap. "I was made aware of your request and upon reading your note, agreed with my fellow professors that I would be the best to aid you with your…" Here, he cast an eye at the other two sat at the table with her. While Rogon had glanced at the man and deemed him no threat and thus went back to his drink, Na'ish was watching the whole conversation stoically with apparent interest. "...problem. How may I be of service?"

Mel also cast an eye at her companions, before rising from her seat. "I would be happy to run the details by you, Amodeaus" she stated, before turning back to Rogon and Na'ish. "This won't take a moment, but it is of a sensitive nature. I hope you understand." Na'ish nodded, his expression unchanging, while Rogon chuckled and waved her off. Mel then began to walk towards a more sheltered table in the corner of the tavern, Amodeaus following behind.

Rogon finished his current tankard, casting an eye over their retreating forms. "Wha' you reckon that was about, eh? He looked pretty well versed in magic, must be if he is a professor at the college, yeah?" he asked. Na'ish, who was still watching the pair as they settled at their new table, simply shrugged.

Rogon huffed, "Well, none of our business, I suppose. You, er...gonna drink that?" Rogon asked, gesturing to Na'ish's untouched tankard on the table beside him. Na'ish looked down at his still unfinished drink, before shaking his head. Rogon smiled and grasped his new drink, taking a large gulp.

Na'ish simply shook his head, slightly impressed at the man's ability to hold his liquor.


As Mel sat upon the stool by the table, she watched as Amodeaus settled across from her, placing his cap upon the table in front of him. Never one to mince words, Mel dived right into the business at hand. "So, if you got my message, you will be aware that the help I will need will be...specialist, to say the least." The man tipped his head in agreement, "Indeed. Out of all my colleagues, I alone specialise in anything close to being able to assist you in your unique situation."

Mel bit her lip in thought. His title as professor of spiritology was promising, at least. "Very well...tell me. What do you know about the "spirit plane"?" Amodeaus adopted a thoughtful look, his eyes focused on a far point as if trying hard to see something that was not visible. "Well my dear, you see, the spirit plane, or the far plane, or the Aether, as some know it, is a fascinating topic. Some say it is all around us, and is simply another world, sharing our space but the width of a sheet of parchment from where we stand. Invisible to most. Others claim it is the place that all our lost return to, when the end comes. All agree that it is a different plane to our material one, but close by nonetheless."

Mel gave a smile, glad that the professor clearly knew his stuff. "Good. Well, what I can tell you, is that it most definitely exists. In fact, there is even a city within the very plane itself." Amodeaus ceased his far off look, his eyes darting towards Mel with far more focus than before. "Over the years I have heard rumour of this city you speak of, although I must admit I had dismissed it as nothing but fanciful legend. Am I to understand this is where you hail from?"

Mel cast a wary eye around the tavern. It was not busy yet, still being in the early afternoon, but there were already some guests starting to get merry. Enough that their conversation wouldn't be overheard, at least. Mel turned to Amodeaus, and nodded firmly, before surreptitiously pulling her cloak to the side. Doing so revealed a dull purple glow in the low light of the corner table they sat at. Her wings, briefly visible, were all the proof she needed.

Amodeaus inhaled sharply, before nodding and looking thoughtful once more. "Yes, I thought there was something in your energy that nodded to the far plane…" He gave a sigh and looked back at Mel. "Now that I have proof of the validity of your identity, your note requesting help becomes all the more worrisome. I would be happy to help you if I can, it is not often one meets a spiritual emissary."

Mel would agree to that. As far as she knew, she was the ONLY one of her race currently within the physical realm. "And the...illness, that I mentioned?" Mel enquired softly. The professor gained a softer look in his eyes. "Not one that I have encountered before…" As he spoke, Mel gained a despondent look. "Rest assured though, that I will not stop till I find out all that I can." he continued, drawing a small smile from her.

Amodeaus gained a determined expression, "However, I'm afraid that without knowing more of the place, I could not begin to guess what illness has taken root in the heart of your people." Here, he leaned forwards slightly, "Please, tell me all you can about the situation."


Over at Rogon and Na'ish's table, the Half-Orc was finally starting to show signs of the alcohol affecting him. Not nearly as much as the amount he consumed would suggest, but enough that he was visibly swaying and slightly slurring his speech. He was gleefully retelling a folk story that he had heard on the road to Na'ish, who was listening with what, for him, was rapt attention.

It was at this point that Varus and Alistair entered the pub, Alistair still scowling at Varus for gaining his new armour. Varus walked right past the table Rogon and Na'ish were sitting at to sit at an empty table by himself. Alistair simply plopped himself down next to Na'ish with a sigh.

Rogon smiled at him. "You alrigh' buddy, you seem a bit...er...what's the word...pissed…" Alistair looked at the slightly red faced Rogon, and smiled back. "Says you. Out of the two of us, you're definitely the most pissed." The two chuckled, then Alistair sighed. "Nah, I'm fine. Just upset Indira recently is all…"

Na'ish cast a look around the tavern pointedly, then returned his gaze to Alistair. "Nah, she's not here. Garrick is helping to calm her down" Alistair said with a shake of his head. Rogon huffed at this and stood, wobbling a little as he did so. "Imma get 'nother round" he said, before walking towards the bar. Alistair watched him go with a frown, looking at Na'ish with a questioning look. Na'ish simply shrugged.

Before Alistair could enquire further, the door opened once more, this time admitting Indira into the building. Alistair froze at first, unsure how to act after his behaviour earlier. When Indira looked his way and gave a warm smile however, he breathed a sigh of relief. "It appears that Garrick was successful with helping her" he thought to himself.

Indira walked over and sat next to him, not saying anything to him and engaging Na'ish in conversation instead. She did seem happier however, and the silence between them was a comfortable one. As the door opened a final time, Garrick entered to see Alistair giving him a grateful look, one he returned with a smile and a nod of his head.

As Garrick was about to head over to the group he was intercepted by a slightly swaying Rogon. "Ah, Garrick. Jus' the man I wanted ta see…" Rogon said, his arms crossed and a less than friendly frown on his face. Garrick too frowned, stepping back slightly defensively. "Rogon. I can't honestly say the same. What do you want?"

Rogon scowled slightly. "I want answers. Answers I reckon you 'ave." Garrick sighed, he had expected this to happen at some point. It was simply sooner than he had thought. "I warn you now, Rogon, you do not want the answers that I can give."

Rogon huffed and started to gesture with his arms. "I'll be the judge of tha'. You clearly know something 'bout my father. Tha' mark on your neck? I've seen something like it before, only elsewhere on the body. Did you know who he was?" Garrick did not respond, though the slightly pained expression he gained was telling enough.

The seriousness of Rogon's face was more unsettling than his scowl had been. "I thought so." Rogon then leaned forwards, an act that might have intimidated most men, though Garrick stood his ground. "Tell me. Where. He is!" Rogon almost shouted, the noise enough to cause Karasumaru to give an odd squawk and jump off Garrick's shoulder to fly over and land on the table next to Indira. Neither Rogon nor Garrick paid the bird any attention.

"I do not know," Garrick responded, and Rogon scoffed. "No really. I have no idea where he is currently. And even if I did, I would not tell you. Your father is not a man you want to meet, Rogon." Rogon exhaled heavily, before backing off slightly, "I'll be the judge of that" he said softly, before walking past Garrick to exit the tavern.

Garrick, breathing slightly heavier than before, looked around the tavern. Most of the patrons had stopped to watch the argument, perhaps hoping for some entertainment. The exception appeared to be Mel and an older gentleman speaking in the corner, though even in the silence of the room their words could not be heard. Na'ish, Indira, Alistair and Karasumaru looked at him in slightly shocked silence. Garrick coughed, and then regained his composure.

"Get some rest...we leave for Brentwood first thing in the morning" he instructed, before marching off towards the stairs. The others look at each other in concern. "Well, that was all rather dramatic, what what." Karasumaru stated while ruffling his feathers. "That it was…" Alistair replied, before looking at Karasumaru in shock. "...Did you just talk? I swear, I only had a couple of drinks…"

Indira smiled, and proceeded to tell Na'ish and Alistair what had happened in the pet shop shortly after Garrick caught up with her, Karasumaru occasionally pitching in as well. Just as they were reaching the end of their story, Mel and Amodeaus approached the table, having concluded their business in the corner.

"Truly spectacular, Mellandra. If you would just let me know how to get there I will take my assistant and be off at once." Amodeaus said as they drew level with the table. Mel simply passed him over a roll of parchment, one he pocketed immediately without looking at it. "Thanks again." Mel said, to which the professor simply shook his head with a chuckle.

"Not at all, my lady. The pleasure is all mine. I will get in touch once I know more." Amodeaus then placed his cap upon his head and turned to leave. "I will likely be leaving the city tomorrow, how will you be able to contact me?" Mel inquired. "Oh, I have my ways dear." he replied mysteriously, before walking through the door. Shaking her head in exasperation, she walked over and sat down at the table.

"So...what did I miss?" she asked. The others exchanged looks, before Alistair sighed. "More than you realise."


Character Profile:

Name: Amodeaus Fulcrum

Race: Human

Amodeaus Fulcrum is a well respected professer at the Coaxial College for magic in Astor. Little is known by non-students about what exactly is taught within the colleges walls, though he claims to be the professor of "Spritology". It is because of his unique skillset that Mellandra's request for aid caught his attention, and thus he sought her out in an attempt to help her and her people.