The Face of the Fountain (Preston/Per. Event)

[David B.]

Preston was summoned to the office of the supervisor, David Blaze.

Once he arrived, a man wearing a blue robe would be seen looking out the window, his back to the door. David leaned against the desk and gave Preston a nod.

"Come in and close the door please, Preston."

[Preston Salabim]

Preston was punctual as always. Keeping his confusion over seeing someone from home at bay. He assumed this had something to do with the transfer program they were trying out. He'd shut the door and patiently wait to be addressed and told what this was about.

[David B.]

David gestured at the blue robed man, who turned around to reveal-

"Hello, Preston."



The High Chancellor's eyes were half closed, the red orb on his chest pulsing with his heartbeat. He had a small smile on his face and was clearly pleased with what he saw. Once through with pleasantries, he'd clear his throat.

"How is your training coming along, Hmm?"

,

[Preston Salabim]

Preston would give a long and deep sweeping bow seeing who it was before him, only rising when further addressed.

"Slower than at the Academy in terms of spells learned. But the situations I've found myself thrust into here has given me an edge in the potency of the spells I have mastered thus far."

[David B.]

Rince nodded.

"I have read a story of a man who said 'I fear less the man who knows ten thousand kicks than the man who practices a single kick ten thousand times.' It is the same with spells. Learning more is necessary, becoming proficient requires practice. I am pleased to hear you are growing stronger. Please, show me some new spells, my son."

David remained where he was, letting them interact for the moment.

[Preston Salabim]

He nodded and stepped back to make sure there was ample room.

"I will use one that is targeted on a friendly soldier first."

So as to not mess up Mr. Blaze's office. Or to anger anyone. He'd begin pulling the mana and Aether from the surrounding world, converting it into water inside of him before expelling it. The magical words of his spell being used as a focus as his water shield would form over himself, moving around ready to intercept danger.

"At rek Arel"!

OOC: Qi use 1/15

Water shield Absorption 39 damage

[David B.]

The shield formed, and the old mage gave a gentle smile, nodding wisely.

"Very good. Very good. Another, please."

David watched as well.

[Preston Salabim]

"This is a standard spell to rejuvenate mana. Typically this would be used on healers to help with triage, or artillery units to allow them to continue to rain down fire from a distance. Though depending on the battlemage it can allow our front lines to continue past their limits."

He continued to channel the mana into himself, the attunement rapidly shifting to that of the Holy element as this time he'd use it on The High Chancellor, trusting he would be able to judge it better than Mr. Blaze could.

"Kiron Rot".

He'd intone as the warmth of his holy energy would envelop The High Chancellor.

Qi use 2/15

The High Chancellor gets an extra Qi use this thread!

[David B.]

The energy enveloped him, and the tired eyes of the chancellor looked around at it. His wrinkled hand emerged from the robe and touched it, a pulse of purple fluttering up the energy into his fingertips. Preston felt a slight tingle. (Marker for reward at end of thread)

"Very well done, Preston. You are becoming as great as we all expected of you." He looked to David. "Tell me...if your home were under attack, what would you do to protect it?"

He brought the eyes back to Preston.

[Preston Salabim]

"Thank you M'lord."  He'd say with another bow before his brows rose at the question.  As a part of the nobility of Ayatlan he was granted many privileges.  But it came with the expectation of his duties and responsibilities.  There was only one thing he could do. 

"My duty. I would do everything to ensure that Ayatlan does not fall."

Literally, or figuratively.

[David B.]

He took a breath.

"Very well. That is good to hear." Bringing his staff out from under his robe, it was glowing and seemed to expand to be taller than himself. It was gnarled wood, twisted at the top to wrap around a glowing pink orb. It pulsed in tune with the orb in his chest.

"There is a great army on the march. It comes for Ayatlan, to bring our glorious city of knowledge and magic down from the sky, and turn it to burning rubble by the sea. I have spoken with Mr. Blaze, and we have chosen you to lead the 259 Alliance force, to meet this army at our border to prevent such a tragedy."

His staff would point down at Prestons chest, and Preston would feel an intense burning pain on his skin.

"I, High Chancellor Rincewind Xillis, name you the fifth member of the order of Clerics, charged with protecting our great country with everything you are. Body, mind and soul. Accept your new position, Mage, and find your feet firmly placed on the path to Sorceror King."

[Preston Salabim]

It was a lot to take in. An army was marching for his home. Which meant it was marching through 259 territory unimpeded. There was a flash of anger for this being allowed to happen. There was some reassurance in the fact that it's location offered natural protection and they were hardly defenseless themselves. But still, their defenses were not impenetrable to a powerful enough force.

His eyes widened as he was informed that he was to join the illustrious group of Clerics that defended his home. It was an honor he'd not expected to claim for many years. He hardly felt ready for it, but he would not, and could not turn it down. The loss of face would be insurmountable for the future he wished to achieve. He would rise to meet it, as he had every challenge his life threw at him.

Preston would kneel to accept the honor as his chest seared with pain. His right hand moved to clutch the sigil searing into his flesh as he let out a pained sound. But he would accept it and what it meant.

[David B.]

"Rise as Preston Salabim, Cleric of the Elder Faith. Your brothers, Cleric of the Righteous Flame Joaquin Weisz, Cleric of the Great Tree Draven Pierce, Cleric of the Broken Earth Zane Ossermeld and Cleric of the Untold Skies Tyrell Salvatore are all very excited to welcome you to their ranks."

He'd bring his staff back into his robe.

"Mr. Blaze will fill you in on the details. I must now return to our home, and see to our defense. Much rests on your shoulders, Cleric. Do not fail our people."

And with that, he'd seem to fade, and with a pop would vanish from where he stood. David stared, giving a small smile.

"Congratulations."

[Preston Salabim]

He slowly rises, just letting the words wash over him. In shock that this was really happening. And then he was gone and left alone with Mr. Blaze. Snapping back to reality he'd adjust his glasses to give himself some cover.

"Thank you Sir."

[David B.]

He nodded.

"I suppose that hurts, and while I could heal it I suggest you let the pain ride. It's important to understand what you've been given. As Cleric of the Elder Faith, you'll be head of the Cleric sect, leading four others who's strength and experience supercede your own. Some recomendations- learn from them, when you can. Do not be afraid to ask questions and take advice. Do not let them mistake that curiosity and willingness for gullibility or weakness. People who are used to power and control won't like some young upstart stepping in. Assert dominance, while letting them know you are willing to get advice."

He grinned.

"As for the war- it seems they've been planning this for some time. There is a four hundred mile long tunnel spanning from outside our territory to just a hundred miles from your home- the major reason they went unnoticed. We assume they have an Earth user there. The army is about eight thousand strong. The largest show of force since the great war, and an outright declaration of war. They are willing to turn back if your people will give up the secret texts of your people, and the magic innovations from the floating city."

A letter floated off his desk and over his shoulder for him to read.

We are eight thousand one hundred and fifty men. We will send the sky people crashing into the earth if our demands are not met.

We want:

- The dissolution of the Cleric force
- The dissolution of the 259 alliance
- The release of all magical theory texts
- The release of all magical spell books
- The innovative scripts of magical creation
- Two million pieces of gold, paid from the treasuries of the high Chancellor.

Meet these demands or face oblivion.