The Black Tower

"That payment seems adequate."

These were the only simple words Xel'rath would offer, indicating he was pleased with what they offered him. It was true, he seeked any information he could get his hands on, but annihilation was not the only way to gain information, and some other forms of information were harder to get as easily... Having for the most part thoroughly studied the creatures of this over-world, atleast their physical bodies, he seeked to assimilate with them more to gain more knowledge on their social structures, and communications. This black tower would not only help Xel'rath with this pursuit, but they would also give him new unprecedented subjects for his other endeavors.

For now Xel'rath would simply nod in response to the scribe's further words and would wait until she spoke again with further instruction, although he already somewhat knew what the scribe would say as the words formed in his mind... Xel'rath did leave some abilities unmentioned in the scroll.

Following Vikar into his quarters, Niklas listened to the man speak and waited until prompted to speak. He inspected the room, finding it similar to his own.

Niklas addressed Vikar with candid respect, and clasped his hand firmly. "I am Niklas. I know only that you require me as an auxiliary on your journey. I will follow your directions and keep you from harm until we return here or I receive another command from the tower." He indicated to the silver-and-blue ring on his hand. 

"The black tower has seen fit to offer me the services of a tailor, though I don't know how long it will take for the man to create the thing. You seem ill-rested; perhaps it would serve you well to prepare for the long journey ahead? I can arrange provisions if you know many days the journey is." Vikar's familiar tone and attitude had relaxed the boy somewhat, but he kept his head slightly bowed nonetheless. 

"Vikar, uh, ser, I mean no disrespect but... are you a wizard?"

Grandma would close the door behind them as they entered the room. She would head over to an arm chair, motioning for Xel’rath to sit if he so desired. Once they had sat down, Grandma would drop the first level of her disguise. If Xel’rath was as hyper sensitive to magic as Grandma suspected, he would feel her aura increase by several magnitudes, although to most mages her doing so would only be slightly noticeable.

Saying nothing for a time, Grandma simply gazed at Xel’rath. She seemed to be analyzing him, although her expression didn’t let on much of what she was thinking, nor would he be able to sense any thoughts coming from her. Finally, she would speak to him.

“I wouldn’t have expected one such as yourself to be in this realm, although I can’t say I’m too surprised. After all, there will always be things from elsewhere poking around in various realms. In some ways, I’m surprised you’re the first one I’ve seen around.”

Grandma tapped her finger on her chair a moment, before continuing.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how many years have you been exploring this realm for? I must say though, I do find it amusing the forms those of us from elsewhere must take to put the locals here at ease. An old woman and a child. Of course, non threatening forms at least allow us to get things done without as much of a commotion.”

The guard was pleasantly surprised by the man's manners and quickly went down to open the side door. He motioned for Marduk to follow him through and to the tower itself. Upon reaching the tower, they would enter the main entrance room and head over to one of the many scribes that wasn’t handling something else.

The guard would depart and the scribe would turn his attention to Marduk.

“I hear you wish to join the Black Tower sir. I assume you already know our purpose and goals we wish to accomplish, so I will get on with the essentials.”

The scribe pulled out an empty piece of parchment and wrote on it rather quickly, filling out a decent portion of it before speaking to Marduk again.

“I will need some various info about yourself, Name, age, birthplace. Also, what skills do you possess? Are you a combative person or more of a diplomat?”

Xel'rath sat silently as Grandma stared at him and then began to speak. He himself was probing around his surroundings, his presence growing and shrinking around his physical form, while still remaining conscious of the present conversation. He noted there seemed to be another quite powerful being nearby, which seemed to disappear to another realm a few moments after Xel'rath had detected them.

Xel'rath only spoke to answer the question he was posed, "According to the standards set for keeping track of time for this realm, I have been invested here for two years."

Having listened to Niklas' description of his services and his suggestion for some rest, Vikar nodded agreeably. He held his cane between his two hands with it's base touching the floor, leaning slightly. The man certainly seemed genuine; and charmingly simple. As Vikar's martial abilities were limited, he would certainly defer any physical confrontation to this man. Though his sword was unimpressionable, and his dress plain, Vikar sensed that there was something more to this man then what he chose to reveal publicly...however that could also be a completely romanticized impression and not at all what Vikar would like. 'Sometimes the world just isn't that interesting' He thought to himself. When Niklas asked if he was a wizard however, Vikar audibly chuckled. 

"Not at all, sir." He said, sharply breathing in through his nose as if inhaling a fragrant incense. "My services to the tower are of a more...discrete nature. I suppose you should say I weave a humanistic tapestry of...of..." Vikar was tired, and annoyingly, could not find his words. "Feh." He snorted. "I'm a negotiator for the tower. Unofficially presently, so this mission is more of a trial-run, if you will. I will explain as we proceed on our journey." 

The black-clad man yawned, quickly covering his mouth with a free hand. "Forgive my rudeness, but I am fretfully tired. I believe I will take your advice and get some rest." He walked over to the nightstand and leaned his cane on a drawer. "You may see yourself out, sir. If I cannot trust you to lock the door after all, how will I be able to trust your ability to keep me safe?" He flashed a smile. Under the shadow of his black sailor's tricorne, his green eyes shone in the candle light like the shimmer of a snake's scales. "Take as long as you like gathering your things, and come to my door when you have finished. I will most likely be asleep, so knock hard." He removed his hat and hung it on the beak of his carrion-bird cane, and should Niklas leave his room, would begin getting ready for a short rest. 

The scribe seemed quite impressed by Marduk's qualifications and swiftly and neatly wrote them down on the scroll. The man sounded like a jack of all trades almost, quite a useful person to have around if his abilities matched up to how he described them. Besides, diplomats were always useful to have around.

“Most excellent Marduk, I think you’ll be quite the asset to our task force. The way you think is just what we like to see in our diplomats, strong and well mannered,” The scribe seemed sincere when he said this.

“As for seeing your abilities, that would be most excellent. We have a practice ground, let us see them demonstrated there.”

If Marduk agreed, the Scribe would rise and lead him outside the tower and over to the practice ground. At the practice ground there are various targets set up, some for archery and some for swords. They are also made of increasingly durable materials, going from things such as hay all the way to metal reinforced with runes.

Marduk assumes a stance reminescent of boxing, rolling up his sleeves, hands grasping firmly at his brass knuckles. The edge set in them slices cleanly into his palm, and blood begins to dribble down. He steps up to the first hay target, and throws an uppercut. The entire target is uprooted from the ground, coming apart from the sheer blunt trauma. Without pausing, he throws another punch at the next target, this one made of wood two feet thick. His hand punches straight through, emerging from the other side as he sinks his entire arm into the target. With a bit of effort, he jerks his arm free, a few long gashes running down his arm.

"As you can see, My greatest asset in a fight is generally brute strength. However, I can also do some amount of very limited magic. Allow me to demonstrate."

The blood pouring from his fresh wounds behaves oddly, gathering in long flowing patterns along his skin. After a moment, it all gathers around his left hand, and he takes a swing at the next, stone target. It cracks under the weight of his blow, and all of the gathered blood sprays across its surface, all but drenching it. Leaping back, there is a flash as the blood rapidly heats, and the stone cracks still further from the sudden temperature change.

"This concludes my demonstration. I do hope it was satisfactory."

His wounds abruptly stop bleeding, he returns to a neutral stance, and returns his brass knuckles to his pocket.

Marduk reads the contract carefully, then signs his name.