So, the ship was underway? He supposed he ought to be annoyed at being carried off without any warning, but there didn't seem to be any point to it. He'd have gone along anyway.

The conversation was interesting at this point, although severly lacking in any details. The compliments kept coming, sort of. "Fated to save the world," or some such thing was not an expression Doogan had expected to hear outside of books, yet here it was being applied to him. At the least the King had his attention.

And it appeared he would continue to hold his attention for at least six days. Doogan still had questions. At this point he knew the name of the necromancer and now a potential destination. But nothing else. What exactly were they supposed to do? He considered repeating his questions again, but decided that he had already asked them enough.

Doogan simply continued to lean back in his chair and listen. He hoped it was obvious that he was waiting for the king to coninue. Patience was a virtue that the explorer had cultivated over the years while attempting to evade traps and such. That skill seemed to be called for at the dinner table.

Kilton sat back after eating his fill of the feast and pondered the events of the world, and the moves that directed this dance. No, dance wasn’t the right metaphor for the events that had happened and were about to happen. The events played out more like a great game between powerful players. Powerful players like Searo Decorwyn and Nixmir or better yet as Kilton knew the man behind Nixmir and the Black Tower of Necromancy. Though in truth the game seems to have started in a very distant past and the great players of this age were probably pawns of even greater powers. Now there’s an idea for theology Kilton thought as an image a being completely of light sat across a game board from its anathema a being of complete darkness played in his mind. Only two true gods and they’re using us to determine fate. Even as the idea played in his mind the truth of its reality rang in Kilton’s soul. I wonder which side we’ll be fighting on? The events that had led up to this moment and the conflict this moment would in time lead up to seemed very light and dark but Kilton knew that without considering both sides no one ever truly understood what was transpiring. Why did the Black Wizards choose the location they did? Why does necromancy wage war against the world? What are they offering that the Yellow Wizards found so appealing? There were many questions that were left unanswered including the major one; Why me? What does Master Irtrill believe I am capable of? What does Searo? Are they really on the same side? The conflict between the towers brought questions like this into being often especially since with the possible exception of the mad Black Tower none of the Tower’s agendas and conversely sides were well defined, and despite the Red Tower’s instrumental weeding of the garden and proclamation that the Yellow Tower was in league with the Black it was entirely possible that the Red was also the enemy. Especially when you consider that as far as I know no ones quite certain where the Yellow was spirited away. However if one put aside the distrust between the Towers, and the danger of trusting a Tower not their own, and considered the facts accepted by the majority the Black Tower of Nixmir needed to be stopped. And perhaps by accomplishing this task we can restore peace to Pellios and to the Towers, and bring the world into an age of wondrous magic.
“For the light source so wasted and gone
We feel the pain of a lifetime lost in a thousand days
Through the fire and the flames we carry on ... “ Sonny’s song coming gently to a close brings Kilton’s thoughts back to the moment and the current turn. Though who’s turn, Light or Dark, I wonder. As the song dies the King and Anna walk back into the room.

“ Thank you Sonny that was beautiful.”
“Now for those of you that don’t know Nixmir has forces that apparently not even the King knew about have traveled to the lands of my people and still controls land that was not originally part of Nixmar city. Some of us have already said that we will scourge the world of the evils of this monster so for those of you that are still deciding think of your homes and what you would do to defend it.”
Anna lets her words sink in then leaves the room to gather her emotions and let the king finish. Well spoken Elf Kilton thought watching Anna leave almost tearfully. That’s the crutch of the situation whether we’re being played or not; the truth is if the war goes on as it is without a decisive move then a lot more suffering will occur. While I mourn that suffering it’s doubtful that that’s why I was sent here by my ‘home’. Master Irtrill sent me here for a purpose and it must have been of great import for her to risk a member of the Blue Tower after she’s taken such risks to insure our safety. I will join this mission to accomplish my task for my master.
"Please, sir. Other than an interesting comparison to the Six, not much has yet been disclosed. What is it you expect of us?" The gnome tried his questions on the King a last time. (OOC Since I wasn’t paying attention taking the Int roll on deadly six +4 for modifier) The answer to that question of course intrigued Kilton as well since he knew his powers and he knew that if he got lucky he might be able to beat an eight year mage but certainly not anyone a Tower proclaimed Master. Though that would be ordinary circumstances, perhaps the entity of Light has an ace we are to inherit There had been stranger things in Mage Wars of the past, but only a very nosy bard would remember or know of past wars. To Kilton’s knowledge this conflict was certainly one of the larger ones, then again he usually slept through history class so his subconscious probably knew of others.

“We have gathered here to protect that in which we hold dear. Apparently the king has looked at the skills that we each process and has decided that we are a good match to compete with this monstrous necromancer. Now what he see's in all four of us little own the other two that are not currently in our company I don't know. I don't see what my brothers couldn't do that I can do. Yes I have seen this army in action but other then a few tangle spells and the help of my owl friend here, I was just there to help mend the wounded. As you have stated Doogan this army is well equipped and it will require some more training to handle the king of the scourge." Anna rejoined the party offering what little wisdom she had gleaned from the conversation. I’m sure he like I knew that much already. He’s seeking the answer to the part that you admit you do not know. Kilton thinks as readjusts his seating for a little more comfort.

"Actually, that is not entirely true. I did not look into your skills. A very powerful and very influential noble from Duncan has convinced the Royal Court, which happens to also be the largest country in the realms, that you five... er, seven... " he takes a deep drink, "...are somehow linked to the future of good civilized peoples everywhere. He has convinced the court... my wife... that you are some kind of prophesied arrivals. The very earth shakes in the presence of you very folk. Or something. To be honest, I've taken your measure, and I think that Searo and Solomon will be disappointed. How ever that may be, your compatriot, Anna of the tender face and the stinging rebuke, tells me something in passing that my own strategists and best advisors would never predict. So What's happening is the Illumorous is under way. At first we were merely going to escort you to Solomon, but..."
The King held up his index finger as he began to speak drawing attention back to himself. "... the Illumorous can be in Sylestria in only six days."

“There is no need to go to Sylestria.” Kilton finally speaks. “I m sorry Anna for the plight of your kingdom but it is not a plight that we can as of yet fix. Searo is a wise and powerful wizard with powers beyond your ken, it would be wise to heed the knowledge such powers grant him as it is wise to heed the warnings of your elders when you are children.” Kilton looked at each of the other three finally letting his eyes fall meaningfully upon the king “There are many questions, that have not been answered. Am I right Gnome?” Kilton flicked his glance to Doogan. “Questions that as informed as the king is he probably doesn’t have the answers to. A wizard as powerful as Searo speaks in riddles and vague references it is best to hear them from his mouth than from the poor attempt at a translation that a second mouth could accomplish. I advise following Searo‘s plan for now.”

Searo studies Ansgar for a moment. "I knew that attempting to lure you with information I could not give would not work. I would have it..."

Searo's concentration is broken by the entrance of his servant.

"Tseng, what is it?"

"Master, the little bell is ringing." Tseng looks nervous.

Searo smiles. "Take the pies out. The should be..."

"No, master. The other little bell..."

Searo's face freezes and the smile cracks. "Oh no." The color in his face visibly turns three shades lighter. The halfling leaps to his feet and runs to the other side of the room.

"Something's wrong with Solomon! Hurry now!" the frantic halfling jerks a gold leafed tapestry, tearing it off the wall. Behind the tapestry seems to be some kind of vault door.

Anyroth leaned back in his chair, listening intensely to the answer that Searo gave. His face grew grave in the face of the obvious lack of information which was both teasing and somewhat insulting him.

Of course magic users like Searo had a penchant for vagueness but they were there at his bequest and this seemed more like a step backwards in this strange relationship.

Anyroth did not like being pushed ahead without the most powerful asset people like him had: information. Anyroth dreaded the feeling of not having a choice. Yet at this moment both him and the northman had been served a share of both.

At this particular break point in the half-elf's thoughts, the servants entrance came as a much needed change of pace. [i]When you have no choices, make some[/i] his mentor's advice flashed in his mind. However, even in the face of Searo's obvious distress (and certainly a magic user in distress is no little thing), he had to ask:

- What in the abyss is going on here? What's wrong Searo?

He grabs a handful of grapes from the table before instinctively jumping over to help toss the tapestry aside.

"No, master. The other little bell..."

Ansgar, having paid no attention to the servant but keeping his eyes on his host, watched as the colordrained away from Searo's face. "Oh, no," came the little man's cry, and already Ansgar knew whatever was to come next would likely interrupt dinner.

The halfling leaps to his feet and runs to the other side of the room. "Something's wrong with Solomon! Hurry now!"

"What in the abyss is going on here?" asked the half-breed, obviously alarmed at their host's strange behaviour. "What's wrong Searo?"

It was a fasinating scene for the Northman to watch -- a witch as powerful as this godless halfling gripped with fear by whatever news that little bell brought. While the frantic halfling, with the help of the half-breed, pulled away a gold leafed tapestry from the wall, Ansgar pushed himself away from the table and gathered his belonging. His long strides quickly brought him close to the others

Behind the tapestry seems to be some kind of vault door. Witchs and their secrets, Andsgar grumbled to himself, his hand ready to draw out his blade.

Searo pulls the tapestry aside and handed the corner to Anyroth, who pushed it aside farther. The Halfling gingerly touched three places on the arched metal door in seemingly random places. The door makes a some sounds similar to bolts opening and the seal opens. The little sorcerer labors to pull the door open under its own weight.

"There is a...contingency...ugh... Solomon... the king... if the barrier drops, I am alerted, as are a few others... the barrier is down."

He pulls the door the rest of the way open (assuming help from Anyroth) and goes inside. The interior of the chamber is backlit with a strange blue glow. The room is mostly empty with the exception of some oddly shaped furniture covered up with sheets on one side of the room. On the far end, where Searo is going, stands some kind of rack-like object also covered in a sheet.

"Gnomes. They make the most intriguing devices. During the siege of Duncan and the resulting calamity, I and some of my associates, Tseng, Jonas, Phoebe... we uncovered an odd machine that seems to cancel out magic in a variable radius. This magical barrier caused many problems until we learned what it was for. It was for marching an army across the world without being detectable or subject to magical attack. Solomon's army carries it with them. When the bell started ringing...it told me that the device was deactivated."

He yanks the sheet away to reveal a full length vanity mirror, framed in a swivel stand of the finest oak. The mirror seems to reflect a backlit image, so even in this eery blue darklight, Searo's reflection is easy to see.

"Show me Solomon Vasgar." the Halfling speaks loud and clear, and his reflection mists away. You see the movement of some milky blurry objects and then a hundred yelloww pinpoints, almost as if the view is moving across a field of torches. When your eyes adjust, you see that is exactly what is being displayed. Suddenly, the view drops onto a field of snow and blood. The sounds of clanging swords and dying men can be heard. The projection on the mirror stops on a man in his early midddle years, beard of mostly black but some grey, mithril breastplate with the crest of Griffon's Mane. His head is wreathed in a golden laurel crown and his face is locked in the snarl of battle. His bastard sword high, he faces off in melee with two ragged undead humanoid monsters, with another two approaching him. Behind him is a backdrop of mass combat. A battle rages at this very moment and the king of Devlinsgrimm is in the middle of it.

Anyroth was unable to hold his lips from releasing a couple of elven swear words. The elven tongue that he learned since he was young was definitely not made for situations like these, yet he took a certain delight in making up veiled curses.

As Searo handed him the other corner of the tapestry, he pulled it off and further with one swift move. The halfling's agitation had not completely infected Anyroth, but he certainly felt compelled to move swiftly and lend a hand in Searo's actions. For one thing, he was pretty sure that Searo did not waste a evening and all that food just to get them killed now.

Anxiously at the sight of a secret door, the half-elf put his own weight to work to make the door move. In the meantime, Searo's ramblings started to make an odd kind of sense. A machine made to cancel magic, protecting the king's army from sorcery. The machine was deactivated triggering an alarm.

As they all gathered around the magical mirror, the images within were no surprise. Vasgar was under attack.

"Betrayal", Anyroth whispered. His mind could not conceive another cause for the carnage that laid before them. The undead were swarming there, so many, so vidid images that he felt a shiver running down his spine. Suddenly he felt he knew too much about the happenings of the world. Suddenly he wished he was back in the guildhall, sipping ale, oblivious of the undead army or the raging battles waged who-knows-where in this wretched world. But apparently death waited for no one.

Searo pulls the tapestry aside and handed the corner to Anyroth, who pushed it aside farther. The Halfling gingerly touched three places on the arched metal door in seemingly random places. The door makes a some sounds similar to bolts opening and the seal opens. The little sorcerer labors to pull the door open under its own weight.

"There is a...contingency...ugh... Solomon... the king... if the barrier drops, I am alerted, as are a few others... the barrier is down."

Ansgar followed the little halfling into the secret room, listening carefully to the witch speak of machines of magic. When the Searo drew away the sheet from the mirror, Ansgar's feeling were equal parts confusion and laughter.

Has he made so much fuss to look at himself in a mirror? the Northman thought to himself in disbelief.

"What is the meaning of this, Searo?" Ansgar questioned the halfing. But the halfling was focused on the mirror.

"Show me Solomon Vasgar," Searo commanded. Ansgar watched as the image in the looking glass changes to show the scenes of a battle great battle, and that of a mighty warrior engaged in combat with the wretched undead. The image was so vivid, the sound so real, Ansgar had to keep himself from jumping through the glass.

"It is only an illusion," the barbarian reminded himself aloud.

[OOC: Tag Dungeon Master!... I'm assuming Searo will say something to the effect of it NOT being an illusion...]

"If it is not an illusion," began Ansgar, unsheathing his sword. "Then tell me, witch, where this battle be, that we may lends our arms!"

As the young wizard finished talking Doogan had all he could do to avoid shaking his head in disbelief. He admired Anna and Kilton's resolve and willingness to join a worthy cause, and would almost certainly join himself, but a lot remained unanswered. Doogan had rarely ever set off to explore something with less information.

"No doubt as the others have suggested there are elements of this story that the King does not know. No doubt a spellcaster such as this Searo is worth listening to. But regardless, I am not in the habit of allowing others to make my decisions for me. For good or ill, only I can make choices for myself, and I must bear the burden of the choices I make."

Doogan allowed himself a small sigh, and then continued. "Also, while this King may not know all, I highly doubt that a monarch of any worth would allow himself to be no more than a puppet of a spellcaster from Duncan, or anyone else for that matter. Certainly there is more that he DOES know. And I would wish him to share it. For how are we supposed to follow the advice and plan of this Searo of Duncan, as the young mage suggests, if we do not even know what that plan is? Is there naught more to it than simply "You seven are fated to save the world by fighting Nixmir?""

Doogan looked to the King expectantly.

"Betrayal," whispers Anyroth.

"It is only an illusion," Ansgar breathes.

"Betrayal of the living. Nixmir's legacy. We are witnessing this as if this mirror were a window. There is no time. I'm sorry."

Searo quietly grasps each of your pinky fingers as you huddle around the mirror. Perhaps reflexively you assume that the child-sized person is seeking some kind of comfort, and think little of it. Suddenly, the three of you are surrounded by small white tracers of light that quickly (within 3 seconds) form a cylindrical wall of light. The light becomes brilliant, blocking the view of the room, mirror, and even the smell of the food. All goes white.


For a moment, you are suspended in nothingness. The first thing you notice is the smell of dirt, blood and the putrid smell of decaying flesh. The cold hits you with full effect, the temperature dropping below -25 in an instant. Then your vision clears in an instant and you find yourselves standing in the same close grouping, exactly where the mirror seemed to be in distance from the melee. The fight is now directly in front of you. Solomon is flanked by two undead things, the wrappings of their funerary preparations little more than tattered strips hanging off of them. They moan and hiss with evident desire to end his life and they are quite unaware of you.

((There is a map, but it is not necessary yet. You stand on either side of Searo, within 30' of Solomon, and he is flanked on either side by a humanoid. Two more are approaching him from the opposite side and will take two rounds to get within melee of him.))

((Please roll initiative.))

While Anyroth certainly did not appreciate Searo's gesture of grabbing his finger, he had no time to react. His lips began to shape a puzzled question:

- Sorry? You're sorry for ... what?

He couldn't even tell whether his words were a mere intention or they did in fact echo in the room. By the time this thought dissipated, however, Anyroth suddenly found there was no room. Somehow it had been replaced by the image in the shimmering mirror and the pleasant atmosphere of Searo's house had been replaced by a shivering cold.

The half elf realized then he tried to ask the wrong question. He should've asked what time Searo meant but the time for lament had already passed.

Solomon needed assistance, obviously under threat by the two ragged figure ... and others were joining in! He gave the northman a meaningful gaze. Although they hadn't had time to get acquainted, it seems this turn of fate made them into brothers in arms. Open battle was not the half elf's way.

"Betrayal of the living. Nixmir's legacy. We are witnessing this as if this mirror were a window. There is no time. I'm sorry."

The little halfling witch grabbed Ansgar's pinky finger with such a deep quietness and sadness, that the barbarian thought that this was, perhaps, some strange mourning ritual of the godless folk.

The tracers of white light suddenly encircling Searo, the half-breed, and Ansgar suggested something else was a-foot. The barbarian roared at the trickery, the falsehood of the little, godless witch who had so easily lured Ansgar with his innocent eyes and padded praises. He roared again, looking to step out of the blinding circle of light, but it was too late. The proud and powerful barbarian was humbled and helpless by the magicks of some godless halfling. You fool! Ansgar scolded himself as the blinding light consumed his entire vision...

...And, then... nothing... nothing at all. Fear overtook the barbarian for a moment as the physical world, the world he loved so dearly, vanished away by the black magicks of Searo. Ansgar tried to catch his breath, but couldn't...

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the nothingness passed away. At first, it wasthe sensation of weight returning, of gravity pushing down on his body and the world pushing back up against his feet. Then came the return of smell -- not the pleasant ones of finely prepared food -- but, rather, dirt and blood, the smells of battle, mingled with rotted, unnatural flesh. Combined with the virtigo experienced earlier, the smell nearly caused Ansgar to bring up the halfling's fine dinner.

And, he probably would have, if the sensation of cold hadn't come next, the drop in the temperature stealing the man's breath away. Forcing himself to breathe the frigid air, the painful burning in his lungs reminding him that he was still alive, Ansgar opened his eyes and took in the sight around him.

The scene in the mirror was now a reality before him. The noble man, the walking dead, the battle raging on all around them... it was all there, just as it had been in the mirror.

Ansgar looked at Searo. If the halfling had been one of his people, the barbarian would have looked to knock the man's lights out for pulling such a stunt. But Northman was having a hard time striking Searo. It's like hitting a kid, he thought to himself.

"Another illusion,Searo?" questioned Ansgar with some uncertainty. "Some kind of test to prove our worth, hmmm? I will not be toyed with, witch!"

[OOC: Assuming Searo says something like, "no illusion, son", Ansgar will merely walk up to one of the undead flanking Solomon, drawing his blade, and will take a mighty "hack" at the creature. After this, Ansgar will become a bit more serious, believing Searo -- that he really is in the middle of a massive battle, protecting the king.]