Magic and Archmages

At the bar of the Fernwood Pub sits a man with somewhat short black hair that seems something in need of a trim. He wears a suit of blue-black armor that glints in the semi-darkness of the pub, a huge blade of similar color strapped to his back. There's a half-empty tankard of beer in front of him and his purple eyes are set upon it with determination. His vestments mark him as a paladin of Vardama, a set of dull bronze scales on a field of black.

The rest of the pub is unusually quiet.

She had been led to the Fernwood Pub by her new little friend, a little goblin like figure who at first she thought was someone's pet until it spoke. She had only recently arrived from her long journey southward from Stormgarde, a journey whose destination was not determined, and had found her in Alexandria and waking up from a much needed nap in her newly acquired lodgings.

Coming down the stairs to the common area, the Aesir woman looks somewhat disheveled and seemingly does not care. Her long blond hair flowing freely about her shoulders and noticeably untamed. Her hand grips the railing as she slowly descends the stairs, taking her free hand to rub her eyes a bit in an attempt to wipe away what grogginess remained.

She sought something to eat and her steps took her to the bar of the Fernwood, sliding onto one of the chairs somewhat close to where Aragos had situated himself. Her elbows rested upon the bartop as both hands went to the side of her face, peering over at the man and giving him a nod of her head, but no words just yet.

Mikilos exits from the Kitchen, tucking something away back in to his bag, speaking over his shoulder to the waitress following after. "Just keep the fire down and it should last until can get a proper replacement. The burners should run fine, so doubt will be any real problems. Yeah, don't worry about it." Exiting to the proper side or the counter, the overly tall elf takes a seat, nodding absently to those already present. "Now, could I get a mug of mulled wine, please? Thank you."

The Goblin yawns noisily, descending the stairs sleepily. She followed along a few steps behind the Aesir, looking more disheveled than the taller woman. She struggled up onto one of the stools between Kadlin and Aragos, seemingly oblivious to the presence of both.

"Kafe.", Murder grumbled to the barkeep, dropping a golden coin onto the bartop. "An' whatever th'lady beside me wants for breakfast. I want bacon. Jus' bacon. Onna plate. Hot. Crispy."

The bartender nods to the newly arrived, and those present already, moving to attend to drink and food orders accordingly."

The man at the bar takes note as he's joined. It's clear by the fact that he briefly locks eyes with the woman sitting down before scrubbing his hand over his face. He doesn't offer a greeting to her any more than she offers him one. Similarly, he ignores the addition of both the elf, and the goblin who settle into place. He does however silently order yet another drink from the waitress who brings him one without comment. He has his half-tankard empty by that time and he accepts the new one eagerly enough.

A glance is given as the goblin she knows hops up on the seat beside her, a nod given and a half smile. "Kafe and bacon? I guess that is a good a start as any." She shrugs and catches the server. "I'll have the same, well add some eggs and some bread if you would." She reaches into a small pouch on her side and puts some coins on the counter as well. "See much a nicer place than the place we met Murder. I was able to rest without feeling like I needed my hand axe across my chest."

Her eyes then slide to the tall elf as he exits. She had seen an elf before, tho it had been quite sometime and she could count the number of times on one hand. He gets a glance that could be considered a tad bit long, nothing threatening, just curious as she takes in his features and height. She was realizing that this city was full of new things she had seldom seen. Perhaps caught in her glance she waves a hand in a greeting gesture.

Eyes then back to the bar, looking to the side of the goblin to where Aragos sits, choosing to venture a word. "Is it worth the coin?" Her head nod gestures to the empty tankard.

Mikilos leans upon the bar to see better, peering down the way. "Hello miss Murder. Rough night, I take it?" he inquires with a grin. Aragos gets a silent nod of greeting, and Kadlin he nods hello as well. "Good day miss. I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

Murder eyes the dark-haired man drinking, blinking a few times owlishly. "Long day, or long night ahead? And stuck doing duty ... outside?", she wonders of the man.

The Goblin grins at Kadlin, and nods. "I like it at a breakfast. Crunchy and savory, and the coffee is a good wake-you-up. An' yeah, this place is pretty comfortable. Very affordable unless ye start ordering expensive drinks or foods. But if you stick to basic needs, you can live here pretty cheaply. And much safer, if you ever need a good night's sleep, this place'll do. It's not always a given though."

Murder points out a few places around the room. "It's been hit before during some of the action over the past years, burned a bit, had an angry mob pass by and so on. But it persists and carries on, it's got a life of its own, an' people love it."

She eyes Mikilos and giggles, "Miss Murder? Haha, nooo, just Murder will do. And no, not a rough night, just waking up from a food nap." She blinks, eyes Kadlin a moment, then Mikilos and Aragos. "This is Kadlin, er... Ah, Bjornsdottir!, Kadlin, this is Mikilos and uhm, I don't think I've gotten your name, sir uhm..." The Goblin gestures to Aragos.

The man glances toward Kadlin and shrugs. "Depends on the effect you're after." His voice is low rolling noise. "If you're looking for it to taste good, I don't suggest it. If you're looking for it to get you drunk, I also don't suggest it. It's cheap though, and it'll get you to drunk eventually if you drink like you mean it."

It seems he means it, he's already halfway through this tankard.

The paladin gives Mikilos a short snort and shakes his head. "We've not been introduced either, but I recognize you from your height and your... dress." A small smirk. "You're Mikilos right? Self-proclaimed Archmage."

He drinks a bit more and lets out a harsh half-amused noise at Murder. "Yea, and I'll be glad if you don't steal it out from under me too. Murder is it?" He shakes his head. "I'm not nearly drunk enough yet."

"I don't need much. Not one for luxury." She looks about. "It will do. As long as it is dry and a place to lay my head." She reaches for the kafe as it is placed in front of her and takes a small sip, careful to taste the heat. Her eyes drift to the two men as Murder introduces her, feeling as if she should at least make an effort to greet them herself.

She looks over to Mikilos first, doing her best to give him a half smile in greeting. "Mikilos was it? Kadlin, as my little friend here has already mentioned. Forgive my previous staring. It has been quite sometime that I have seen someone...well such as yourself. I believe I was a child." Truth be told, that could not have been too long ago for the 19 year old Aesir.

Her gaze shifts to Aragos and she studies him a moment longer considering his words a moment before speaking once more. "Why not get something that tastes better and will get you drunk faster, in the end it may cost the same?" She shrugs and manages the slightest of grins and takes another sip of her kafe. assuming Murder's inquiry of hi name will be answered.

Mikilos grins to Aragos. "Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla, Lord of Estranillia, magus of the ninth circle. But yes, 'Archmage' is fine." To Kadlin he arches a brow in curiosity? "Someone such as me? An elf? A wizard? A master of sorcerous power? A morning person?" The elf glances around conspiratorially and leans in to stage whisper "The secret is to not go to bed in the first place."

Murder squints at Aragos, blinking a few times. "What do you mean, don't steal it out from under you? The night or your name?" she nods then, "Yes, I named myself. A fantastic name, if I do say so myself!" She definitely does.

The Goblin makes a happy noise as drinks and food arrives, with half-filled glasses refilled or replaced. Several strips of bacon are quickly inhaled, as if someone were about to take them away. The kafe in her cup is quickly gulped down, her expression saying too hot, too hot, but she downs it anyways.

"Her question is a good one, why not... oh, you wish to merely be tipsy, perhaps feeling a bit warmer, if you have to be outside? Else it would be better, tasting and on the purse, to have a stronger drink and less of it. For the same effect, but faster."

Her eyes flick to Mikilos, then to Kadlin, and back to Mikilos. "An Elf. The spot she's from is pretty much all Aesir, with a few exceptions. If you're out in the boondocks there, then you've heard more stories about other races than you've seen. And that's a terrible idea. People need to sleep."

The paladin of Vardama seems mildly amused by Kadlin. "I wasn't going to get drunk today, just was going to take the edge off, but I'm starting to change my mind." He downs the rest of his drink and lifts an eyebrow at Mikilos's long-winded name and title. "Awfully fancy name you've got there."

Purple eyes narrow at the tall elf. "So is it true what they say about you? You know, the bit about you summoning a balor and then walking away while it destroyed the low lands?" It seems as though, even though they're strangers that the paladin might have heard some interesting gossip about the 'Lord of Estrnillia'.

"It is nice to meet you Mika-stava Abri-do-archie Mithamalla, Lord of Eternila something of a circle somewhere." She is not being condescending, she really did try to repeat it. "Archmage it is." She takes an audle breath and exhales. "Magic. Wonderful." This time her words are aaid in a manner which would come across as truly not feeling good about the fact. "Forgive me. It just seems so unnatural to me. It's not...well natural." She pauses a moment then adds. "Kadlin Bjornsdottir. Lady of nothing. And I have stood inside a circle a few times

She takes another sip of her coffee and looks over to Aragos now. "You know what they say about drinking your problems away...they are just there tomorrow so you can drink again." She watches him a moment longer venturing the same question Murder had just asked and did not recieve a reply too. "It is an awfully fancy name he has there. Speaking of names, do you have one?" She looks over his dress and simply adds. "Or shall I refer to you as Lord Drinks-alot. Ruler of Have-another, sworn enemy to sobriety." She raises a brow and tries to hide a smile."

She looks over to the eating Murder and cannot help but smile. "I have no idea where you put it. Seriously, you may no be half bacon at this point."

Mikilos smiles mildly to Murder. "-Humans- need to sleep. And goblins... gnomes, lutch, khazad, Arvek Nar.... pretty much everyone but elves and sith and wizards who make use of magical power to sustain themselves." The wizard frowns a moment. "And war golems, I think? Maybe monks who have mastered that sort of thing? Anyway, not quite everyone needs sleep. Rest, yes, but not strictly sleep."

He frowns mildly at Aragos question, but shrugs. "In short, no. In slightly less short, I tried to bind a balor who was already running loose, but under estimated his power. Yes, that likely made matters worse while I tried to find a solution. Others ended Eclavdran before I found a way to do so."

To Kadlin he smiles. "Mikilos. And I understand, Lady Bjornsdottir of Nothing, but I disagree. Magic is the foundation upon which Nature itself is built. It's wholely natural... well, unto itself. Are certainly unnatural applications."

Murder rolls her eyes back momentarily. "At least the Archmage has a name." She sticks her tongue out at the dark-haired man, and then glances at Mikilos. "They're not going to let you live that down, Mikilos. I can';t say I blame them, but you would think past good deeds would weight into that, somehow." The Gobbo shrugs her shoulders. "Such is life, I suppose."

She giggles at Kadlin, and reaches up to pat her shoulder. "You will find numerous people here with fancy titles, long names or have a thing or two to boast about. Though uhm..." Murder cants her head slightly. "You don't approve of magic?" Her expression speaks of disappointment. Snorting, she continues to pack away the delicious crispy meat. "It just ... fits. There's always room in my stomach!"

The Goblin grins beatifically, and crosses her arms. "That's right, I said /people/ need to sleep." She giggles mischievously.

The paladin shakes his head slowly. "Hard to forget the death of so many innocent lives." His voice is stern and unforgiving. "It's not my place to forgive such sins, that is for the divine to decide. I'm not judging; I've got blood on my hands too. At least I acknowledge the price others have paid for my failures."

"And I have a name." Purple eyes flicker from Murder to Kadlin. "You can call me Aragos. One name is more than enough for me; I find that titles are rather useless things really. However amusing they might be."

This last is a nod to Kadlin, and he waves the waitress over for a stronger drink this time. The better for the drinking. "I'd say you were right, about the drinking. It solves nothing. Even so, it helps with the sleeping thing. Which some of us need to do."

She tries to accept Mikilos' words. She really does. The truth is she has not seen a lot of magic and what she has seen has not exactly left a good memory within her head. "I suppose it is natural. It's just not normal." She raises a hand to brush a strand of hair back away from her face that had fallen before her eyes. "For instance. You see me coming towards you and see an axe, you know the threat. She is going to swing that axe and it is goig to hurt if it hits me. People with magic, you walk towards me, I see nothing. The next thing I know you are saying words like /fire-us kill-us/ and I find myself aflame." She reaches for his kafe again. "It is not tha I do not trust magic users as people..." She pauses a beat. "Okay I don't."

She looks then over to Murder, noticing the expression. "Oh you know magic too?" Seems everyone she was meeting had some magical ability. "It will just take some time I suppose. Some getting used to." She pats the goblin on the shoulder and laughs lightly. "That may be the most magical thing about you Murder. The never filling stomach."

Aragos is given a nod as his name is repeated. "Aragos. I'll remember that. Titles are often used to command respect. Respect should be earned, but I will never disrespect my Jarl or my King." Her plate had arrived and she picks at the eggs before taking a small bite. "There are days then when I awake, I lay there and think: I cannot wait until nightfall again so that I may sleep once more."

Mikilos snorts at Murder, but grins. "Fair enough."

To Aragos he shrugs. "I acknowledge my failure and move on. Life is too short to dwell on things gone wrong."

To Kadlin he nods as well. "I think I understand. Though I'm curious your thoughts on Artifice?"

Murder shrugs at Aragos, "He, like you, has also saved lives. Something one should also take into account. And well met, Aragos." She nods a little. "Aye, it can help with sleep also."

She grins toothily at Kadlin then, and shrugs. "I know a few spells, yes. But they are, hmm, as blunt a thing as you might expect. No charm, no summons, no undeath. Things to help me move, and fire, pure and simple. Goblins enjoy fire. But the other spells aren't dangerous, and I could demonstrate them in here. Nothing flashy, honest."

The Goblin snorts and laughs, patting her stomach. "It is no magical power, just... a talent, I suppose."

Aragos offers a faint half-smile to Kadlin as well as a nod, and then another in agreement. A moment later his drink comes and he picks it up, rising to his feet. "You speak big words mage, but your actions speak louder." His purple eyes flicker to Murder. "As yours are meaningless. You know nothing of me or my actions. If I have saved lives or not. Assumptions only."

He leans toward the goblin, his voice dead serious. "Even if I saved a thousand lives, it would not be enough to atone for a single drop of blood which I have spilled. That is not how this world works. The price of one life can not be paid with another. Never. Your love is a shallow thing if you think it can." With those decisive words he turns and starts toward one of the tables.

"Artifice. Like artifacts. Created things? Oh we have wonderous blacksmiths for such things. They create the best weapons and armor. Dare I say the best one would ever find. There is nothing like the weapons and armor that come out of an Aesir forge." Did she even know about the magic of artifice? It seems that her experience with magic has only really been with the destructive side of things. Some of the eggs are picked from the plate and placed in her mouth.

She turns her head to look at Murder now, trying to comprehend her description of the magic she uses. "No summon or undeath? Well that seems somewhat harmless then." Did she mention fire? "And we are back to the fire." She gives small smile. "I suppose standing beside allies who have the control of fire is better than standing across from one." A piece of bacon is grabbed and she idly chews on it. "There are a lot of things I feel I am going to have to get used to should I choose to remain in the city for a while. It certainly is nothing like Steinholar."

Aragos' actions are meant with a narrowed eye. She is not thinking his words are wrong. If anything, she relates to the other human probably better than the others present. As he turns to move to another table, she turns on her stool and with a tilt of her head to the side speaks. "Is is natural to assume that which is not known Aragos. It is one's nature to judge whether they try hard not to do so. I suspect all have you have already judged me." She turns on her stool a bit to face him better. "One cannot put a price on a life. Tha price is only valued by those whose the life effects." She pauses a moment and then adds. "We all must live with our actions. We may never atone for them. Yet we must learn to accept them. We do what must be done in the moment and reflect afterwards." She shrugs and moves to run back around on her stool. "We have all lost something. Atonement or justice will never feel that void, this is true, but if I could have delivered the killing blow to the brigand that killed my father, I would have without question. Fuck atonement."

Mikilos peers after Aragos, but declines to comment. It's clear they disagree, and are unlikely to change their minds anytime soon.

He blinks at Kadlin a moment. "....remind me to take you by the Artificer Hall. And while I certain agree there are master Aesir craftsmen, I question their place as the best. I freely admit I'm bias, but a master Sildanyar craftsman can hone their craft far beyond what most other can manage."

"I was giving you the benefit of the doubt.", the Goblin replies. "I am not saying lives are traded on a one for one basis or that it negates terrible things. But that one should take into consideration that people make mistakes, and that you should look at mistakes with the good someone has done in mind. Try to balance the scales." She looks to the barkeeper, and wiggles her mug at them, "More kafe, please and thanks you."

She glances to Aragos, "Your goddess does this, measures the good against the bad. Why would you only see the bad?"

Murder simply shrugs. "You say I don't know you, so how would you know what my love is if you don't know me." Murder offers a little wave. "Have yourself a good night."

At the swearing from Kadlin, the Goblin giggles. "Well said, Kadlin"

"Yeah, so, uhm, I can fly, for one. And Jump really high! Make myself super strong, and climb the walls like a spider! Fun stuff!"

For a moment Aragos hesitates, standing there and looking at Kadlin with a mixture of understanding and agreement. A trace of pain in his purple eyes. He might have said something to her, but his faces loses all trace of expression at Murder's words. She's dismissing him. As if she has any right to do so.

The paladin of Vardama allows her words to settle into the space between them. He turns his back on her, dismissing her as she'd dismissed him, and moving to his chosen table where he settles in to drink his time away.

Kadlin turns when she hers Mikilos speaking. She knew little of anything outside Stormgarde. It was true, she had not done a lot of traveling. "Very well. I shall let you show me this Artificer Hall. I mean who am I to judge something i have not yet seen before. I cannot promise it will change my mind. Master Aesir blacksmith's are second to none. So when you say they can hone their craft beyond are you suggesting that magic is involved? You see in my mind, that lacks skill." She is not being harsh, just she knows little else.

She looks over to Murder and smiles with a raised bro at her words. "You can fly...climb walls, and lift things bigger than yourself?" She sips her kafe once more and peers at the goblin from behind the rim. "Okay, now that is something I would enjoy seeing. Unnatural, but I might enjoy seeing it." She was going to be a hard sell on magic. In her world, blade swung, blood spilled."

Her head then turns to the Paladin who has decide to take a seat on his own. She kind of understood, but truly did not know hil well enough to do so. Nevertheless, she felt somewhat responsible for his departure. She slowly stood from the seat and gave Mikilos and Murder a nod and a murmured word. "I'll be right back."

She makes her way over to the table, pulls out a chair, turns it around and sits backwards on it, leaning over the back of it where her arms rest. "Hey. Look, we have all done things we regret. Some of us more than others. And not one of us..." She gestures her hand to herself and to Murder and Mikilos. "Not one of us knows each other's full story. I am not sharing." She tilts her head ot the side where a strand of hair hangs down before her eye. "None of us know the reasons or what any of us have gone through. And none of us are going to be able to help the other deal with that. It's a battle we must fight alone. So none of us have a right to judge the other. None of us."

Mikilos waits for Kadlin to return to her seat before picking up the previous thread. "I should clarify the Artifice and crafting are two very different things. Artificers try to blend technology and magic. It is a school I disagree with, but tolerate because of it's industrial usefulness. I am not an Artificer.

"I am, however, a craftsman. Bladesmith, specifically, though I dabble in a wide range of crafts. I opened my own forge some forty years ago, admittedly too soon, I was far from a Master at that point. And well I do consider myself a Master smith now, I understand my skills are minor to those who have been at the forge for centuries."

"Hmm, artifice will probably not improve your stanc4e on magic, but, honestly that's fine if it doesn't, Kadlin." The Goblin eyes Aragos for a moment further, before shrugging her shoulders. "Not too worried about the paladin. They often have a stick up their behinds, or worse, the whole darn tree. Can be said of archmages, too. Certain ones."

Murder rubs at her cheek. "Let's not let it spoil the night. Artifice is kinda neat, from what I have seen, and has drawn many of my kinfolk into its orbit, much like explosions, guns and fire have."

Her words said, Kadlin stands from the chair, not bothering to turn it back around and makes her way back to the bar to leave the Paladin to remain alone as he desired. She settles back onto her seat and reaches for her Kafe once more. "You are a bladesmith? Considered a master in your craft?" You can see the fight going on within her head. A bladesmith she understands, a magic bladesmith is an abomination to her Aesir craft, but her curiosity was peaked. "So let's just say...I have an great axe. Finely crafted. What could you do to it...I mean just asking. For a friend. Who likes magic and stuff. She sips her coffee peering at him from behind the rim.

She looks over to Murder now. "I am not sure anything will improve my stance on magic. Nineteen years of not experiencing it." She glances over her shoulder once more to the mentioned Paladin and then back to the goblin. She does not comment. "If it is magic that has a practical purpose I can see the usefulness. Well perhaps I could learn to see it. It is still unnatural. " There she goes disconnecting magic at all from nature.

"Well, nineteen is a long time, but, not so long that you couldn't change your mind. Not saying you have to, just that it's a possibility, right?" The Gobbo leans her chin on her hand. "For example..." Her hand reaches up to her head, where a little barrette is seen, after a moment her leather armor is suddenly a blue summer dress. "I can have clothes for any occasion." Her leather armor changes back to normal after a few moments.

"There's lots of useful, not scary, not dangerous magic in the world. Mikilos can probably make your weapon stronger, do more damager, or set fire to your enemies, should you want." Murder stands up, and moves to hug at Kadlin.

"I'm going to go up to the room and take a bath. the place Mikilos talks about is not far from here, so if you wanna go, go, look around and so on. I'll be here for you, okay?"

Mikilos smiles and nods. "I am very aware of the magus propensity for arboreal rectal insertions. Some of the professors at the Society exhale bark." He laughs, and wipes at his eyes. "Telamon. Geeze. Stickless, to be clear, but I still think of him as a wet behind the ears kid, just arrived to the city. No, he's an Archmage, married and settled into a rather nice house. When the heck did that happen? I turned away for just a moment."

To Kadlin he nods. "Most of what I forge, I then enchant. You're perfectly welcome to stop by my shop. Up the Mountain Road, under the giant sword. Can't miss it.

As for an axe, I'd have to make sure it's a masterwork. Enchanting strains the material it's placed upon. Poor craftsmanship, and the magic would rip the object apart. Part of why permanent spells on people are rare and difficult. Flesh can only withstand so much.

Anyway, a base enchantment strengthens the weapon, makes it far harder to break. Typically protects it from rust, hones the edge to never burr or go dull, and can add a magic glow, about the strength of a torch. Further enchantment needs that base layer to set a solid foundation to build upon."

Kadlin waves to Murder as she slides off the stool and ascends the stairs, turning her attention fully to Mikilos now. She listened carefully to all he had to say. Everything he could do for her axe. There seems to be battle going on inside her head. It was her father's great axe, crafted by a master blacksmith of Steinholar. Would altering it be a slap in the face to her culture. "My axe is masterwork. It was my fathers. So what you are saying is, you could make it last longer?" She reaches for her kafe and sips once more. "I have skill in weaponsmithing. I have been able to keep the axe in peak condition given a forge."

Mikilos nods, pulling the blade at his hip around to his lap. "This is Quarlani. It was forged by my ancestor, Raychell Reysatra, long ago. Before the Sildanyari split to three people. Before the rise of the high kings. Before Adom forged the tribes into the Drani. So yes, magic can make things last a very, very long time."

Her eyes go to the blade upon the elf's lap. If there was something Kadlin knew and understood it was a weapon. Now he was speaking a language she truly understood. Her eyes studies the blade carefully, seemingly analyzing it and the fine craftsmanship that was before her. "It has a name?" She exhales slowly and looks back to the glance of the elf beside her. "Perhaps such magic is not all that bad? Perhaps I have been quick to judge." She shrugs and nibbles on her lower lip. "I think I might like to see this Artificer Hall sometime."

Mikilos nods. "It is called Quarlani. Which translates as 'soul' or 'spirit'. Magic is a tool, and like any tool, it can be used for both good or bad. But as with tools, some are more set in their purpose. It is hard to use a sword to heal. And difficult to use Necromancy for Good. Artifice... feeds and clothes thousands. The factories of the city run off Artifice. It's a hard, often dirty life, but it's better than freezing or starving. Artifice runs the manalamps on the street outside, and lifts great airships into the sky. Artifice also made the Desolation, the corrupt city of Merkabah, and monstrous abominations beyond measure."

"I guess magic is much like any other weapon. In the hands of those who seek to do good and harness it for assisting others it can be something beneficial. Yet, in the hands of those intent to do harm it can be destructive." She ponders her words a moment and with a narrowing of her eyes speaks once more. "Perhaps I can come to accept it in some capacity." She shrugs. "I am making no promises. However, one often fears what they do not understand, perhaps as I understand it more I might come to be able to at least live amongst it."

Mikilos nods. "I think you'll find some magic to be very useful, but quite understand if you choose not to embrace everything. Or maybe you'll become an apprentice yourself, stranger things have happened."

The Aesir laughs lightly. "Acceptance may be one thing. I cannot ever see myself using it. Perhaps wielding a blade touched by it, but even that would be a step I would have to come to terms with and acceptance from Kor." She runs a hand over the back of her neck. "I have my ways as you have yours. I have my skills as I you must as well. I can only assume that both ways coexist in battle."

Mikilos grins and nods. "True, I don't think it's very likely. But a chance, how ever slim, is still a chance. But yes, magic and strength of arms both have their place." He falls quiet for a moment. "House Mithralla stood as a warrior house for generations. I am the first arcane head of the house."

"Your House is a martial one? You are the first arcane? How was that accepted? Were you shamed or frowned upon by your choice to follow the path of magic? I cannot say that has ever been an issue in Steinholar. We swing weapons and train hard to learn to use them to the best of our ability. Magic is hardly ever seen or even spoke of."

Mikilos shrugs. "Everyone else is dead. My grandfather made the shift to a merchant house. I had a knack for magic, and trained to support my father and elder brother. Then the Witch Queen, Altima, attacked Alexandros. My father and brother organized airships to fly in warriors and supplies to try and help. Something went wrong with one of the ship's engines. The explosion left nothing but ash. So, now I am head of the House." Naturally there's far more to the tale, but Mikilos sticks to the bullet points.

It seems everyone has a story of tragedy and loss. At least those she has met since arriving in the city. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts, biting her lower lip before speaking once more. "I am sorry for your losses. Do we ever truly recover from such? I know I will never will." She picks idly at the cold eggs now on the plate. "My mother died bringing me into the world. Guilt. My father passed defending the Jarl from a brigand attack on the way to Volstengrad. He was the Captain of the Jarlsguard. I was there. But my duty was seeing to the safety of the Jarl's daughter. Which I did. If she had not fled from the carriage into the melee, could I have stayed and saved my father. Guilt." She shrugs. "All we can do is move forward.. right?"

Mikilos nods. "Onward. Sometimes a path ends. Onward is moving backwards to find a new path, or sideways in a new direction. Sometimes the best you can do is maintain your place and try not to slide back, until a new way forward is found. But yes, keep moving, keep trying. Sometimes there is no right answer, just the wrong you chose."

"Onward. That is a much better word. Onward. Yes. Onward is all we can do. Sometimes the path is not revealed. I left Steinholar with no direction or destination, just a need to get away for a while from the pains that it harbored. I did not know I would end up here, beside you, talking about life choices and magic when I awoke this morning." She laughs lightly. "Sometimes there is no right answer, just the lesser of two evils I have found."

Mikilos sighs. "We hope it's the lesser evil. Sometimes we choose poorly. But, in failure, we gain experience. In experience, we find wisdom. And with wisdom, we make better choices."

The barbarian woman nods, contemplating his words. "Whoa. That was deep. I mean I agree. It makes a lot of sense, just really deep for one cup of kafe." She gives the Elf a slight smile and exhales once more. "I feel I should go prepare for what the day shall bring. Might we find time to see this Artifice Hall you speak of?"