Elliot steps forward, thrusting his sword downwards at the beasts feet then redirecting at the last second directly into the bulk of his sinuous body.  Though it looks for a moment like he will hit, the thing jumps higher in the air than it seems it should be able, landing first on it's feet before it hunches over on all fours again growling...

Tricky little bugger.  Judoc sighs with pleasure as the Armor spell coalesces around him, hardening his skin.  What is the creature saying?  Judoc wishes he has the gift of languages so that he could speak to the demon.  Perhaps it is offering to befriend them.  Perhaps it simply wants to be left alone.   Whatever the case, the thing had attacked him first.  Besides, everyone knows that demons can't be trusted, right?

He frowns.  Judoc doesn't put much stock in conventional wisdom.  Still, he and Elliot did supposedly come down here to kill a demon, so he might as well get on with it.

Concentrating on the demon, he begins to summon a fireball.

OOC:  Concentrate.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:05, Wed 11 Jan 2017.

The thing gives Judoc a reprieve for the moment and instead launches itself forward at Elliot, lashing out with his claws.  Elliot neatly escapes the blow by stepping back and putting his sword in the path of the blow, opening a small cut in the demon's arm.  Elliot counters by throwing his sword in a wide arc, just grazing the demon in the chest, opening a narrow stinging gash.

Now Judoc conjures the mana around him again, this time producing a egg sized ball of flames that flickers and writhes as it grows to a grapefruit.  The conjured fire illuminates the area better than the light of the stones and the humans can now see clearly the spires of stalactites and rough stonework on the floor of the cave.  However it is not for long.  Judoc hurls the ball of fire straight at the imp at point blank range!  The thing shrieks as it steps backwards, slipping on the wet rock as it stumbles backwards and falls to the floor, the fireball just barely missing his head as it slips to the stone below.  Just a moment later the conjured fire connects with the stone, evaporating the whole area in an instant to a bath of steam that expands outwards in a warming blast.

OOC:  2 rounds of combat.  Elliot missed on his first strike but managed to open up a small gouge on his second.  The imp stayed stagnant on the first turn, though countered on the second, which was parried by Elliot, opening another small gash on the things arm.  You conjured your fireball and threw so close that you couldn't miss, and though the thing nearly critically failed his DX roll, he still managed somehow to make his dodge.  The imp is currently supine 2 hexes away from both you and Elliot, who is on your right side.  You are still about 6 hexes from the cave opening, so there aren't any concerns about falling into it.  Give me 2 more turns of combat.

Enraged, the beast works with an uncanny speed launching itself again to all fours from its back muttering to itself in scathing tones.  Elliot does not waste the moment of advantage.  He launches himself forward, sword arm whipping in a violet arc towards the beast and though his foot slips slightly as he steps forward his aim holds true, straight at the minion of hell.  Screeching his displeasure, the imp attempts to launch itself sideways and avoid the blow, but it moves too slow and instead it takes the full blast of the sword into its left leg.

The beast howls with rage as the sword cleaves the appendage fully from its body!  Both infernal and its severed limb hit the cave floor with a meaty thunk as it howls with all its voice can muster.  "Agares!"

"Good work!"  Elliot has apparently been practicing with that sword.  Hm.  Has Judoc blundered by not spending more time in weapons training?  A staff is all well and good, but it's hardly an instrument of war.  Perhaps he should consider taking up some martial training to supplement his magical prowess.

The imp is fast, his infernal nature no doubt giving him preternatural quickness.  But now incapacitated, it should be easy work to finish it off.  Judoc concentrates again, summoning more mana for another fireball.  He wonders again what the creature is saying.  Begging for mercy?  Cursing their grandmothers?

OOC:  Concentrate.

Judoc weaves the mana around him again, bringing the light and heat from the surrounding air into a small ball of gleeful flames that grows to the size of his fist.  The imp below writhes on the ground, seemingly trying to get a hold on the ground to steady himself.  His wounds are how bubbling with a black ichor that that tears rather than pours from his various wounds.  His leg is now frothing with the stuff which sticks to the open wound like dripping molasses.

Again, Elliot lashes out with wild abandon!  The demon wriggles on the ground, though he has no chance to escape the blow.  The sword swings down, it's steel casting flickering reflections from the ball of flames in Judoc's hands.  The steel buries itself in the thing's neck erupting with a clang! as its edge hits the floor of the cave.  The demon shudders violently but  then falls still.

OOC:  Combat is over, the demon is dead or dying and nearly decapitated.  You still have your 2 point fireball in your hand and are down 9 fatigue.

Though the thing is still on the floor, Elliot seems dissatisfied with his handiwork.  He cautiously prods the thing with his sword before shifting it over slightly and hacking again at the thing's neck with a clean cut that severs the head entirely.  He breathes a sigh of relief as the head rolls awkwardly a few inches before coming to a rest, its haunted eyes resting open in an expression of hatred.

"Thanks for the help."  He says simply as he bends over the fallen thing, wiping the bulk of sticky residue off his sword and onto the cleaner parts of the dead thing's body.

"Don't mention it," Judoc says magnanimously.  Elliot was lucky that Judoc had followed him.  If Judoc hadn't been here, the demon would likely have torn poor Elliot apart and worn the other young man's entrails for a girdle.  "You fought well," he says, grudging admiration in his voice.  "You're getting quite good with that sword."

Still holding the fireball in his hand, he raises it as if the ball of flames were a lantern and peers closer at the demon.  "Fascinating," he says.  "You don't happen to have a jar on you, do you?  Demon's blood might prove a useful alchemical agent."

He looks around at the caves, using his fireball as a light.  "I wonder why the demon stayed in this dank place," he says.  "Seems like he would have chosen more comfortable quarters.  How did you know how to get here, anyway?  Why didn't you just go back through the tunnel you found last year?  And why did you wait so long to hunt this fiend down?"

OOC:  Judoc will hold the Fireball spell as a torch as long as it lasts.  He'll also keep his Armor spell on, but he will let it lapse after the minute is up.  Judoc will ask Elliot as many questions as he can about why he waited to come, how he knew the tunnel led to the basement, and what he was going to do now that the demon is dead.

"Thanks"  Elliot says simply at the complement as he bends down to look at the severed head, rolling it over with one hand by the ear gingerly as if testing to see if the demon still held an ability to injure even in death.  "No.  No jar."  Though the possibilities of potions and alchemical recipies dance in Judoc's head, Elliot seems completely uninterested by the suggestion, though he grabs the hardened ear and lifts the head up as he raises back up to his feet.

Still distracted, Elliot seems to be half listening to Judoc's line of question.  "No clue.  Who knows?  The thing may have liked the cold and dark."  It only takes another moment however and Elliot's countenance completely changes.  He seems half prepared to answer, and then as he looks back at Judoc, the deadly ball of flames still dancing gleefully in his hands the color drains from his face and his shoulders seem to droop.   "It was the Jesuits..."  He finally says in defeat.  He sits down on a larger stone, letting the demon skull drop with a muffled thunk back on the floor of the cave.  "I didn't even realize it was the same thing at first.  They told me the demon was hiding under the castle, and that there was a secret passage...  I bought a fair few scrolls from the mages guild trying to find it...  just realized today he was in the same spot all along...  I never thought I'd see this damn infernal again - but I didn't have any choice..."  Elliot drops off his head sinking slightly so that he is no longer looking Judoc but towards the floor of the cavern.

The blazing fireball still flickers in Judoc's hand, bringing the details of the cavern into slightly sharper relief.  He can see the cave opening off to his right where both the ceiling and the floor of the caves seem to drop.  He can see now that the floor only drops a few feet before continuing in a slowly receding slope...

Judoc  walks over to where the cave floor slopes downward, still holding the glowing fireball in his hand.  He peers down the slope, seeing what he can see.  Funny.  It's been a long time since he's had a smoke.  When he was studying the Fire college, he used to amuse himself with lighting his pipe with a Create Fire spell.  He hasn't had a smoke in a long time, he realizes.

He went to the Jesuits. Now the whispered conversation Judoc had overheard at the arena.  One mystery solved, then.  "Did you make a deal with them?" he asks, naturally curious.  The Templars and the Jesuits are rivals, and Judoc wonders if Elliot was now in debt to the Jesuits.  "What did they want in exchange for the information?"

Now that Judoc is down here, he wonders what other secrets this cave might hold.  What might they find if they explore further?  "Hey, let's see what else is down here," he says.  "Maybe the demon found something worth guarding or something.  Maybe there's treasure!"  His eyes gleam mischievously.  He doubts there is anything in the way of gold down here, but perhaps there are more secrets to uncover.

OOC:  Whether or not Elliot is game, Judoc would like to explore this cave further.  Maybe there's a secret chamber or room or torture dungeon down here to uncover.

"Did you make a deal with them?  What did they want in exchange for the information?"

"No."  Elliot's voice is slow and lethargic.  "They didn't seem too keen on helping me out.  Told me they wouldn't even consider it until I killed the imp.  Told me that they wouldn't consider people that tolerated evil."

As Judoc's attention seems to wane from the conversation, Elliot is still not tempted away from his roost on the stone.  He continues looking downwards towards the floor, mostly unmoving.  "Yeah, sure... go ahead."  He replies simply without moving an inch.

Judoc moves a few short steps towards the edge, crouching slightly and putting the fireball low to try and see as much as he can.  The ceiling of the caves beyond comes down just above his eye level though it does not obscure the view beyond.  A few thin rock formations drip from the ceiling, hanging a few inches down into the cavern at most.  Instead of the stone of the caverns the floor below is a wet, glistening sand or dirt.  There seem to be no outcroppings from the floor but it slopes first drastically and then gently downward away from the wall he is crouching atop.  The smooth surface seems to funnel the light farther on and another twenty paces or so Judoc can see an abrupt change in the cavern floor, though it is hard to determine exactly what it is, along with the dim prickle of a flickering light.

OOC:  You don't get the impression that Elliot is particularly interested in exploring the caves further, or going back either really.  You have edged your way over to the drop and are looking down from above.  The 'light' you are looking at is like seeing a torch from several hundred yards or more likely something small like a firefly at 20-30 yards.

Judoc peers over the edge, seeing what he can see.  That sand down there doesn't look too appealing.  Mucking about in caves, especially without a group, can be dangerous business, and Elliot doesn't seem to be in the mood for - well, anything, at this point.  The reflection - was that his fireball?  Could be.

"Consider what?"  Judoc shifts his attention from his study of the cave below back to Elliot.  What, had Elliot wanted to join the Jesuits or something?  He squints at the other young man.  Why was he there, just sitting still, not doing anything?

"Elliot, what's wrong?"  He smiles gently.  The fireball is warm in his hand, and the dancing flames give a soft light in the cave.  "What's all this about, anyway?"

OOC:  Elliot seems to be depressed.  Try to talk to him and figure out what's going on.  Judoc's still interested in where the cave might go, but he isn't going to explore solo.  If he can't get any more out of Elliot, he'll suggest returning to the castle.

Judoc takes a step back from the ledge, returning his attention to the other young man.

"Consider me..."  Elliot says slowly but then the words seem to fall out of his mouth all at once.  "I have to get out of here."  He finally looks up at Judoc, his eyes shimmering in the flickering light.  "I thought it was bad before, I'd gone to them, tried to get away from the Templars as soon as Mariana..."  He nearly chokes on his own words as he says the name.  "It was awful...  The provost and some of the knights took me in a room... they didn't question me.  They didn't give a shit about her.  They just told me they had uses for someone like me and that if I stayed in their line then I shouldn't expect trouble.  I didn't know what uses they would put me to but I had no intention of finding out.  I went to the Jesuits on the campus, they didn't trust me they told me I would have to prove myself and kill the imp to get anywhere with them... I was putting this off...  But then a few weeks ago the Baron Graves himself pulled me aside.  He wanted me to kill a man, someone I've never met.  I can't be their pawn and at this point they will not let me out, even to the regulars.  If I can't go to the Jesuits I'm going to run.  I have to get out of here."

Elliot reverts his gaze towards the ground again, his hands fumble and wring with nervousness.  He glances sideways towards the battered body of the imp and shudders as he returns to stare at his feet.

OOC:  Nice roll vs. diplomacy.  Feel free to continue this line of conversation if you want, otherwise, if you want him to do anything you are going to need to convince him.  Fast talk would be the ideal roll, diplomacy may work too.  Anything you put in your post as how you convince him may modify your roll.

Judoc listens quietly to Elliot's story.  He doesn't say anything, and his face remains impassive.  Once the young man finishes, he asks quietly, "Why'd you do it?  Kill Mariana, I mean.  A lot of us thought you two were close.  Really close."  Judoc would have liked a roll in the sheets with her himself.  She had been quite pretty, and though Judoc usually had little time for female companionship, the ladies often found him irresistible.  Well, other than that one problem of his.

Elliot's story isn't very different from what Judoc had been asked to do in the arena.  He finds himself wondering what to say, how much would be to much.  The Templars want killers, apparently.  Well, then he really must have pissed them off by sparing the Death player in the arena.

"Who'd they want you to kill?" he asks, and waits for the answer.  More knowledge that might be valuable.  Again, he thinks back to his ridiculous battle dressed as Catherine of the Wheel.  He frowns just thinking of having to roleplay as a woman.

"Listen, I might be able to - help."  He doesn't say anything at first, wondering how much he can trust Elliot.  Finally, he says, "There are people in this city that seem to be, ah, actively resisting the powers that be.  I don't know how far, or who they are, but they seem to be opposing the Templars.  If you're interested, I can try to connect you with them.  They may be more amenable than the Jesuits.  However, it's not without risk."

OOC:  Judoc's still not sure how far he can trust Elliot.  The other young man seems a bit unstable, but if Elliot is willing, Judoc will try to arrange a meeting with Elliot and the friend of Death by putting a message in the abandoned merchant's guild.

If Judoc had though Elliot unstable before, when he mentions the death of Mariana the man goes even more unbalanced.  His eyes bulge and the words spit out of his mouth before Judoc can even finish his sentence.  "I didn't kill her!"  He fumes.  "Or I didn't mean to."  He adds lamely.  "It was her idea in the first place!"  He adds, his gusto and anger returning slightly though it ebbs in a moment.  Judoc is about to respond to this wildly absurd accusation, but Elliot continues his voice even and emotionless.

"She wasn't a fan of this place.  Neither of us were... she always made it seem like it wasn't her choice though, like someone else was keeping her here.  End of last year something changed, she said someone caught her, like she was in trouble.  She hated her house I know but I didn't know what she was talking about and she wouldn't elaborate much.  She said she had to get out, that she didn't have much time, that the hammer could fall at any moment..."  His voice fades for a moment, though Judoc doesn't press his questions just yet, knowing that there has to be more to come.  Elliot's breaths come shallow and quick as if attempting to catch up with the truth.

"We rehearsed it.  All of it.  We had an argument at the school - she grew quite angry with me when I could not play my part well enough.  Still we waited, she withdrew from everything but we would still find each other at midnight in the forests.  She coached me on the spells, on the attitudes, on the feelings.  She never let the rehearsals play out beyond my fire spells.  She told me she had a way to finish it off, that she was more worried about me playing my part..."  His mind wanders to the actual night...  I felt the heat of her body as she was engulfed..."  The anger wells up behind his eyes again though this time it does not find its outlet.  "I didn't even cast the blaze on her, but all around.  I had practiced it a million times.  I don't believe it went wrong..."  This time it seems an interminable silence.  Judoc is not sure whether to break it and has he finally opens his mouth to talk again, Elliot begins a new.

"We had even practiced the meetings afterword.  She coached me on how to answer the questions, on how to stay in the character that we had built of me.  We had thought they would take it as an accident that I would be out and in the legions... not really a fate so bad...  But that didn't work out at all.  They thought it murder outright and never asked me a single question.  And the worst is that it only tethered me faster to this place and furthermore as an axe man..."

Judoc finally sees an opening and asks about the man the Provost wanted targeted.  Elliot merely shakes his head.

"I do not know who he is.  He said the man was known as 'Thresher'... he showed me what he looked like with an illusion.  I do not know anything else."  He hangs his head slightly, though the frazzled emotions seem to have simmered down into a still and iron resolve.

"I won't meet your man, I'm not interested in fighting them, I just have to break their hold.  If the Jesuits won't help me after this"  He motions towards the corpse on the ground.  "If they won't even hear my story then I will run.  Sometimes they take students, I at least have a chance and they won't be beholden to the provost."

"I believe you," Judoc says quietly.  Elliot had never possessed much ability with spells, and the conflagration that had engulfed Mariana had seemed far beyond what the young man was capable of performing.  But if Elliot had not killed Mariana, who had?

A troubling thought strikes him.  Had Mariana herself completed the ruse?  Had she been so desperate to escape that she had immolated herself?  The idea makes Judoc sick.  No, surely not.  If she had intended to kill herself, why drag Elliot into it?  Webs within webs.  Judoc finds his attention piqued.  What could be uncover about this place?  What secrets might be learn?  But at what cost?  A burning pyre like Mariana, or this broken shell of a man before him?  No, a similar fate will not befall Judoc.  Judoc the Merciful he might be now, but one day, he will be known as Judoc the Mighty, Judoc the Awe-Inspiring, Judoc the Triumphant!

But now, poor Elliot.  "I don't blame you for wanting to leave, Elliot," he says.  "Perhaps the Jesuits will be better.  Good luck, my friend, and if I can help you, let me know."  Not that Judoc will bend over backwards to help the other young man, but in truth, Judoc doesn't have many who he might call friend.  Once, perhaps, that was different, but now - he'd just been too busy.

"Shall we return?  Or do you wish to brood here a while longer?  I do not think you will find fresh demons to kill.'

OOC:  Wait a moment for Elliot to see if he wants to return.  If he expresses a desire to stay here longer, or does not respond, go ahead and return to the castle.

"Yeah,"  Elliot says softly as Judoc bids him luck, still seeming to focus on the small bit of floor in front of him.  Though when Judoc offers to leave Elliot manages to pull himself together, grabbing the small head on the floor below him.  "Yeah, lets head back.  Suppose there is no sense in just sitting down here until we are after hours."  He grips his stone back in his left hand again and palms the demon skull with his right.

The trip back is uneventful and just as Judoc had predicted there are no further encounters with nether beasts or hellion.  The sodden stone slopes slowly upward and it does not seem to take long for the rancid smell of offal returns.  Judoc places a shirt sleeve to his face to block the most of the smell, though Elliot seems indifferent ahead, slowly making his way straight along an invisible path that seems to be leading them back up.  Indeed, when they do see the tunnel entrance, it is directly in front of them and Judoc feels quite lucky to have gotten back to just the right spot in what may as well have been an underground desert for the lack of variety in the view.  Back up the tunnel the two trod with not so much as a sound from ahead or behind.  They make their way through the trap door, pulling the thing shut behind them and then upstairs towards the stairwell door.

Taking their time to ensure they can hear nothing, Judoc peers out first and seeing an opening, the two replace their small stones into the wall sconces and make their way to the stairway upward.  Lucky again to avoid detection, the two manage to make their way up the stairs and out of the servants corridor and into the main hall.  Doing his best to conceal his morbid burden from the few students milling their way about the hall, Elliot glances towards Judoc and offers a sincere "Thanks" as the two find themselves about to take separate directions...

OOC:  Nothing came up on your encounter rolls so the way back to the castle was unimpeded.  Elliot seemed to know the way well enough to get you there, which frankly is lucky because it probably would have required a navigation roll at a severe penalty and you could have spent a few more hours down there trying to find where you started from.  You don't need to do anything here if you don't want to, I just wanted to give you a chance to take action before I completely fast forwarded to the next scene.

The trip back is uneventful, and as they walk, Judoc ponders what he has learned.  That there are people in the College who wish to make killers of them troubles him.  It's one thing to train for the art of war.  It's quite another to go about murdering people in cold blood.

He wryly considers how much trouble the summoned imp had caused and how easily he had dispatched it.  Well, Eliot had helped, he supposes.  The fellow has become quite good with a blade, better than Elliot's meager magical aptitude.

"Right, that's that" Judoc says, and nods to the bundle.  "If anyone asks, I'll deny everything."  Judoc pauses for a moment.  "Take care of yourself, Eliot, and don't be a stranger, ok?"

OOC:  I'm ready to move on.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:44, Thu 09 Feb 2017.

Elliot nods politely at Judoc in parting and the two go their separate ways... perhaps even more so that Judoc would have imagined...

---

December 2nd
2008 A.D.
Templar College of Battle Magic
Overflow Classrooms

A month had passed... word had been sparse at first, but by the time he had heard it even once it had spread like wildfire.  Elliot had joined the Jesuits on the college.   The oddity of the situation was palpable: the Jesuits normally took only the finest students into their enclave and even though many would admit that Elliot had improved slightly before the exams, he was still far from the best student.  Furthermore, since he had joined, Elliot had not so much left the enclave as to even retrieve the meager belongings he had been keeping in his room in the Hall of Bishops.  It seemed that his newest roomates talked most, whispering vicious secrets to the entire school one person at a time.  Though surprised, Judoc's own roomates talked little of the event...  Indrid seemed uncaring, Grobbik seemed to respect Elliot's privacy enough not to bother with bother with repeating or speculating.  As for Judoc, as of yet, he had kept his word and stayed silent of his afternoon retreat to the depths of the castle and the bowels of the sewer access below...

In the meantime, exams had been largely taken.  Each of Judoc's classes had large or small group exams.  He had taken both the written and practical portions and though Judoc would be hard pressed to say the experience was flawless, he nevertheless saw little competition with himself at the top of his class.  Continuing on to the spring semester seemed a foregone conclusion.  Still, Judoc had one last exam to take, one which had seemed most curious.  On his exam schedule it had simply been marked as

Templar Practicum.  indv.  2 Dec, 1000 hours.  Classroom 24.

Checking with others nonchalantly it seemed that no one he knew had a similar exam.  Furthermore, the twenties classrooms were on the third floor, just a stones throw from the base of the towers and the top of the parapets.  Each of them was small, he was sure, and he had heard for the most part they were used for advanced courses in specialized magic such as Meta magic and the basics of Enchanting.  Double checking the time, Judoc finds himself at his classroom with a few minutes to spare as he pushes open the doorway.  The door opens towards the innards of the castle and as such there are no windows.  Like the servants floors below it is lit with dimly glowing stones, though there are enough of them here that seeing the ground in front of you is not quite so much of a chore and so that there is not a single discernable shadow around the room.  There are six chairs and desks organized in rows of three which nearly fill the small space, leaving just enough room for the podium in front and a chalkboard that sprawls across the wall behind.  It does not seem for the moment that any professor is waiting for him here...

Exams had taken up all of Judoc's attention, leaving him scant time to follow Elliot's rather unusual ascension into the ranks of the Jesuits.  Of course, he knew the real reason, but he kept his lips sealed and devoted himself to preparing for the exams.  He knew all of this material anyway, and he knew his teachers knew.  Exams were more of a formality than anything else, not true tests of knowledge, but simply a matter of fulfilling regulation and a record of accomplishments.  Sure, perhaps he didn't know everything yet, but it was clear that Judoc was far and away superior to the rest of his classmates, both in knowledge and magical aptitude.

Not that the others didn't try, of course, some staying up all hours of the night attempting to cram as much information into their heads as they could.  Other students wore perpetual masks of worry, biting their nails, grinding their teeth.  Judoc secretly took pleasure in his fellows' anxiety.   Of course he studied, and he made sure to review formulae and reagents, but there was little need to punish himself psychologically, and his results for the most part buoyed him up.  He had temporarily forgotten one gesture for the Great Haste spell that had been a bit of embarrassment, and one could never quite keep straight all the different Great Wizards, but overall, his results were as good as he had expected.

With one final exam, this Templar Practicum, Judoc is already thinking about his course work next semester.  He isn't quite sure what to expect from this final test - more demonstrations of his abilities?  A final assessment of his knowledge?  Whatever he will be asked to do, Judoc is sure he will be able to rise to the challenge.

Now he is here in Classroom 24, and he looks inside.  Hm.  No professors.  Judoc would bet money on this being one final test from Brother Loke, one last attempt to trip Judoc up and send him packing from the College.  Clearing his throat, he enters the room and takes a seat, curious to see what manner of exam this might be.

Judoc makes his way towards the seats, his mind already racing to the likelihood that Brother Loke, Judoc's nemesis at the college, is the one who required this last test.  If that was true there were all sorts of impossible stunts and self deprecating acts that Judoc could imagine this exam would be comprised of.  It seemed that Loke liked nothing better than his own pain and embarrassment.

Judoc is not left waiting long pondering however, for only shortly after he makes his seat, the door swings open again and the professor who enters is not even close to who he suspected...

Instead it is the Provost, Baron Graves, who enters.  "Good."  The other says gruffly as he pushes closed the door.  "Silentiumurus."  Judoc can feel the mana reverberate through the room, though it somehow does not seem to have any affect to their conversation.  The provost walks to the front of the room, placing a hand on the chalkboard tentatively for a moment, as if he is trying to feel something in it or beyond.

This is the first time Judoc has seen the other close up and if he did not already have such a well formed opinion, Judoc must admit that the man would strike quite the impression.  He is well muscled and lean with an impeccable hand taken in the care of his personal appearance.  His beard and mustache, just speckled with the grey pepper of age, are groomed but not overly manipulated.  His breastplate and armor are polished to a mirror shine.  The cloak draped behind his shoulders is the deepest blue and belies not even the slightest hint of fatigue.  As the man turns about at the front of the room, his face is all chiseled steel and the muscles of his jaw and forehead ripple with annoyance.

"Judoc."  He starts, glaring directly at the youth and not waiting even a moment for a response.  "You would seem a dedicated student, no doubt with aims to join the Templars."  It seems less a question than a statement of fact but before Judoc even has the time to process the words let alone what sort of situation he seems to be in, Graves is moving on with the swiftness of a falcon.  "If you are to become one of us, the first lesson you must learn, indeed the most important lesson, is obedience.  Perhaps you remember your little jaunt to the sands of the arena in Azer?  I had gone through quite an ordeal to set that up, to convince the governor to arrange it, to organize the culprits who would be your foes.  I did that because those despicable apes were deserving of far worse than the plush prison cells they had been inhabiting, they deserved death..."  Graves clinches a fist in front of his face, the hatred in his eyes boiling over in furious and sickening glee.  "Did you know that the man you fought has gone free now?  Thresher he is called, a murder and a rogue above all others he was to burn and would have even without my intervention but somehow now he walks free and this I cannot accept...  Oh yes."  He pauses, staring at Judoc in the face.  "He walks free now with only your meager flames as punishment.  I did not seek it to come to this Judoc, but I have been left with no option.  I had told you to kill him once, on the those sands of the arena...  Well this is still that moment, these are still those sands, and I am telling you to kill him...  If you do not do this I will consider this exam a failure.  I will know if it has happened.  Do you understand?"  Graves locks his eyes upon Judoc, waiting for an acknowledgement...

It is with a mixture of relief and alarm that Judoc sees not Brother Loke, but Baron Graves, come in.  The student jumps to his feet, and the Baron casts a spell, no doubt to block prying ears from eavesdropping.  Judoc lifts an eyebrow in surprise, but he waits, quietly.  He cannot forget the last time he was before Graves during a test.  The arena.  Judoc, in that ridiculous mask, wig, and dress.  Death, burning from Judoc's fire.  The Baron had been displeased that day, Judoc knew it.

The man before him is formidable.  He reeks of power.  This is a man used to giving commands, of being obeyed.  What does he want with Judoc?  Why is he here?  Whatever the reason, it must be important.  The Baron is not one to waste his time.

As Graves speaks, Judoc nods his head.  Yes, he had come here to become a battle mage in the Megalan armies in a bid to prove his father wrong.  Men like Brother Loke had done nothing to make Judoc want the Knight's Cross for himself, but now, seeing what he is capable of, Judoc cannot help but wonder if he could indeed be a Templar.  He is suprised to discover this.  When had he changed?  He knew there was something rotten about them, if Elliot and the youth in town were to be believed, but there is something here, some power that tempts Judoc.

Obedience is a word that rankles Judoc.  He is not a dog to be brought to heel and do his master's bidding.  At the same time, he knows that to be a soldier, one must follow the chain of command, and this makes him respect the Cross and the Templars, no matter how morally questionable some of them may be.

The Baron's cold fury is rather frightening.  What made him hate those men so?  And how the hell can Judoc avoid the same fate?  No matter what else is true, he knows this much - he has no desire to have this Templar as an enemy.

"I undestand completely, my Lord," Judoc says, with a tone he hopes is a confident one.  "Thresher will die."

Judoc's mind is a whirl of activity.  No matter what he tells himself, he suspects that if the man Graves names Thresher had not surrendered, Judoc might very well have collapsed under the strain of pulling so much mana.  Judoc had toyed with the man, but in an arena like Azer, how could one man without arcane ability hope to fight another who had no magical training?  It was like splitting a puppy's skull with an axe.

And what is the story here?  Did Thresher deserve death?  Perhaps he did, if he really was a murderer and a thief and who knows what else.  But was he?  Judoc finds himself in two minds.  He has no desire to kill a man who does not deserve death, but here, in the presence of Graves, Judoc feels a keen sense of self-preservation.  Could he kill Thresher?  Would he? How far would Judoc go to gain status and position?  This was no longer about showing up his father.  Judoc wants to be in the inner circle here, and he suspects this test is the first step toward a much different future than the one he imagined for himself.  But at what cost?  What does it profit a man to gain the world but, perhaps, lose his soul in the process?

Graves seems slightly surprised and entirely mollified by Judoc's short and direct answer.  The hard lines on his mouth and forehead relax and perhaps there is evidence even of a slight smile.  "Good."  Graves says for the second time, his tone also entirely changed, forsaking all the steel for a trace of honey.  "Well then, you know your task.  Exam results are to be posted in a week.  If you seek anything to aid you, I will not be available, however, you may inquire at the wizard's guild in town.  Do not fail me Judoc..."  The tone regains just a moment of ice...  "But succeed and you will be rewarded."

Graves gives Judoc one last hint of a smile before he waves a hand and Judoc can feel the previous spell work cascade into nothingness.  Graves moves quickly to the door, pushes his way out, and is gone.

OOC:  Just so you know, I'm going to let you control the way, at least to set up how you are going to play the remainder of the thread but you have a multitude of options available to you.  You still have the 'Friend of Death' contact who you could try and deceive to set up a meeting or you could roll against streetwise and try and find Thresher on your own.  You could pick a specific business or guild that you think he may have contacts to and roleplay through the encounters to try and chase him down.  Alternatively, you could not attempt to kill Thresher at all, but come up with an elaborate ruse to try and trick Graves... all the choices are over to you.  If you have anything else you want to try out feel free to shoot me a private and we can either move that direction or discuss how to tweak it to give you the best success.

"Yes, my Lord.  I will not fail you."  Judoc bows his head and waits for the baron to leave before he exits the room himself, deep in thought.

What is he going to do?  Judoc has no doubt that he will kill if he must, but it's the must that rags at him.  What does he know about the Templars?  They're cold bastards for one thing, Loke and Graves, anyway.  Judoc hadn't bothered to check up on the story of the youth he had met after the arena battle.  He had hoped to have steered clear of local politics in his quest for a future commission in the legions.  Now, this.

Judoc's lip wrinkles.  He has no desire to play the Baron's assassin.  He wouldn't doubt that this Thresher had killed before, probably one of Graves's people.  No one is truly innocent, not the babe freshly born, not the old crone with snow-white hair and a century's worth of wrinkles.  Whatever this Thresher had done, or what he represented, he had incensed Graves to the point that Thresher had been marked for death.  The costume itself in the arena could have been meant as the final touch, the funeral shroud.

Interesting that Graves had first ordered Elliot, and now Judoc, to carry out the execution.  Elliot was only a boy.  Of course, Judoc is a special case, a young man with an incredibly bright future, but why stoop to using students?  Surely Graves has more dependable associates he can call upon.  Deniability, perhaps?  A rogue student, a bad egg who, in spite of his teachers' best tutelage, had gone wrong?  Possible, he concedes, but still, a student could be traced back to the Templars' battle college.  Or is this another salvo in whatever shadow war is being waged between Thresher's people and the Templars?  Either way, Graves would use Judoc as a pawn, and this idea does not sit well with the young mage.

He returns to his rooms, deep in thought.  Standing at the one window that looks out over the castle grounds, he considers his options.  He could go after Thresher directly, track him down, and finish the job he had started in the arena.  But openly killing someone - Judoc would be arrested and incarcerated.  No, no, that would not do.

He could goad Thresher into fighting him, or arrange a meeting and make it look like Thresher was robbing him and claim self-defense.  There is the ruined guild hall.  He could leave a note there, asking Thresher to meet him at a certain spot.  There are a thousand ways that could go wrong, though.

Hm.  A note.  He clasps his hands behind his back and paces.  If he fails - he would likely be dismissed from the college.  If he succeeds, his place is assured, but he is a murderer.  Is there a middle path?  Crossing over to his desk, he takes out a slip of paper, dips his pen into his inkwell, and begins to write.