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Description
A cowled beggar approached the holy city Aurora as the sun began to rise from the plains behind him. The guards did not look up from their dice as he wandered past, beneath notice. Once inside, he walked straight for the tall spire climbing gracefully from the center of the city. The main road lead directly to the spire in a straight, well-kept manner that was designed to magically ease the muscles as one approached the tower. None of the throng wandering the road paid any attention to this unmemorable travel-dusted vagrant. Even so, the walk took several hours.

In the plaza facing the tower, stalls flaunted every sort of magical ware. Potions in glass vials glowed with the sun rays bound up in the colorful fluids, while baubles and jewelry glittered enticingly in the next stall. Odors--delightful and distasteful, sometimes at once--wafted from various stalls by accident or design. A thousand human voices vied to be heard over a cacophony of animal cries and other less definable sounds. Through this crowd the beggar walked untempted.

He climbed the thirteen broad, colored steps to the base of the tower slowly, deliberately, forcing the guards flanking the double-wide doors on the top stair to take note. When the beggar was two steps from the door, he stopped. The guards, reacting too late, crossed their lances against the beggar's entrance.

"What business have you with the Tower of the Mage?" one guard asked after briefly touching the brass wheeled triskelion seal over his heart in greeting.

"None, sir," the beggar answered, placing a fist over his chest. "My business lays only with the Archcardinal. I have a message of great import for her."

"Have you a permit for entering the tower?"

"I do not."

"Then give your message here, and it will be relayed to her holiness at her convenience."

"Your pardon," the beggar said. "But I was told specifically to give the message to the Archcardinal herself. My employer was specific about this point."

"And who, pray, is your employer, then," the guard said, beginning to lose patience.

"I am not at liberty to say, sir. Discretion was requested, and even were it not I could not on my honor give out information pertaining to those who purchase my assistance."

"Then you can not pass," the guard said curtly. "What proof have we of goodwill? You could well be an assassin or thief, using a message for her holiness as a device to gain access to the tower."

"If you would like, I will leave those items I carry for defense in your custody until I return." A small dagger and a large spellbook, each with the wheeled triskelion crest prominently displayed were revealed. Placing the two together, the vagrant held them out to be collected.

The guard shook his head. "Even were I to take those, you would be stopped at every floor and turned back without a permit. The Archcardinal is on the top floor, and every stairwell is guarded. You would return here quickly, if you were not outright killed by a random shock of magic as it passed through the halls."

The beggar stared for a moment from the shadows of his cowl, then returned his tools to wherever he had before stored them. He stood silently for a few moments longer, then said, "Very well. I do not wish to be so bothered. To the roof, it is."

The guards were shocked into open mouthed awe as the vagrant before them transformed into something much more brilliant. The unremarkable garb became a bright gown, banded to match the steps behind the figure. From this creature's back sprung three identical wings, erupting into a triskele behind him. Leaping into the air, the creature flew calmly up toward the tower's pinnacle. Two wings carried him upward, the third folded close to his back.

A clamor arose from the plaza below as the masses noticed the messenger climbing steadily up the enormous tower. A magical barrier of force appeared above him to bar passage, but the third wing swept it aside with one quick flap. The hole closed below him, and he continued to the next barrier a few floors higher. Seven times a barrier sprang up. Seven times the third wing brushed the barrier aside effortlessly.

Finally, the messenger landed on the platform at the top of the tower. As soon as his feet touched down, the magical garb dissipated, leaving an unremarkable mendicant once more.

"Well that was quite a show," a voice from the platform's entrance called. "This will surely garner a large reaction with the city council."

The mendicant faced the woman and placed his fist gently over his heart momentarily. "Archcardinal Arrats?"

"Indeed."

"Apologies for the display, madam, but I was unable to convince the guards at the entrance to allow me passage. As I have been told this message is both private and urgent, I refused to be delayed by worthless formality. I have run these last five days to reach this city, and am unapologetically impatient at the moment."

"It is I who should apologize for my guards, sir," the Archcardinal said, laughing. "They are quite formal, as you say. But," she added, "formalities are required in this place, lest the tower become lax and degrade into a poor house for our goddesses' faithful. I am certain you understand."

"Your goddesses would be pleased to hear your devotion, madam. In fact, they seem quite pleased with you, as I understand. I have with me a scroll for your person, and was directed to relay this to you personally. See that it is sealed and unread."

Taking the scroll, the Archcardinal observed that the wax seal had not been tampered with. In surprise, she looked up at her guest more acutely for a few moments before breaking the seal and perusing it. "You have not read this?" she asked.

"I have not, madam."

"And do you know what it says?"

"I do not, madam."

She rolled the scroll shut. "Would you like to know?"

"I was told that the message is for you alone, madam. My loyalty to my employers is such that it suffices. I have no interest in its contents."

"How noble," she smirked. "The goddesses we serve--"

"You serve, Archcardinal."

"--As you wish. Then your 'employers' have requested that I complete a specific task for them. They say here that the messenger who delivers this scroll will serve as my champion in this mission and as the man who will aid in collecting the party to be involved.

"What I mean to say here is, you see, that I am to accompany you on the rest of your journey."

"Are you?" the messenger said, unimpressed. "Very well, but you must keep pace with me, then. My time is valuable, and there are still more whom I must meet with."

"Of course, sir. I need only a few moments to collect my things, and we can be off." The vagrant before her turned to the edge of the platform. Before he leapt back down, she stopped him saying, "Through the tower this time, if you would be so kind. I would not have the council any more frustrated with me as they will be on my return."

The vagrant turned back to her, "You are bound by this council, then?"

"Only politically," she shrugged. "Therein lies the problem with organizing people, of course. The more power you have over people, the more power they have over you. It can't be helped, as it is for the glory of my faith."

"Then this mission they give you irks you, as it pulls you from your divine duties."

The Archcardinal laughed. "My divine duties are to serve the goddesses of magic with my full devotion. This mission elates me, as it was given me directly by them. Not to mention," her eyes glimmered, "it gets me away from all these rank-hungry people. I do not have much love for those more devoted to position than faith."

"You said the formalities prevented degradation."

"Not entirely, unfortunately. Some forms of degradation thrive on formality. But it is weeded out as best I can manage. It is not really my place to say, but rank and title are hardly the most important things in this world. If you would accompany me," she turned and began to walk into the tower, "I could use your assistance in packing."

Description
A cowled beggar approached the holy city Aurora as the sun began to rise from the plains behind him. The guards did not look up from their dice as he wandered past, beneath notice. Once inside, he walked straight for the tall spire climbing gracefully from the center of the city. The main road lead directly to the spire in a straight, well-kept manner that was designed to magically ease the muscles as one approached the tower. None of the throng wandering the road paid any attention to this unmemorable travel-dusted vagrant. Even so, the walk took several hours.

In the plaza facing the tower, stalls flaunted every sort of magical ware. Potions in glass vials glowed with the sun rays bound up in the colorful fluids, while baubles and jewelry glittered enticingly in the next stall. Odors--delightful and distasteful, sometimes at once--wafted from various stalls by accident or design. A thousand human voices vied to be heard over a cacophony of animal cries and other less definable sounds. Through this crowd the beggar walked untempted.

He climbed the thirteen broad, colored steps to the base of the tower slowly, deliberately, forcing the guards flanking the double-wide doors on the top stair to take note. When the beggar was two steps from the door, he stopped. The guards, reacting too late, crossed their lances against the beggar's entrance.

"What business have you with the Tower of the Mage?" one guard asked after briefly touching the brass wheeled triskelion seal over his heart in greeting.

"None, sir," the beggar answered, placing a fist over his chest. "My business lays only with the Archcardinal. I have a message of great import for her."

"Have you a permit for entering the tower?"

"I do not."

"Then give your message here, and it will be relayed to her holiness at her convenience."

"Your pardon," the beggar said. "But I was told specifically to give the message to the Archcardinal herself. My employer was specific about this point."

"And who, pray, is your employer, then," the guard said, beginning to lose patience.

"I am not at liberty to say, sir. Discretion was requested, and even were it not I could not on my honor give out information pertaining to those who purchase my assistance."

"Then you can not pass," the guard said curtly. "What proof have we of goodwill? You could well be an assassin or thief, using a message for her holiness as a device to gain access to the tower."

"If you would like, I will leave those items I carry for defense in your custody until I return." A small dagger and a large spellbook, each with the wheeled triskelion crest prominently displayed were revealed. Placing the two together, the vagrant held them out to be collected.

The guard shook his head. "Even were I to take those, you would be stopped at every floor and turned back without a permit. The Archcardinal is on the top floor, and every stairwell is guarded. You would return here quickly, if you were not outright killed by a random shock of magic as it passed through the halls."

The beggar stared for a moment from the shadows of his cowl, then returned his tools to wherever he had before stored them. He stood silently for a few moments longer, then said, "Very well. I do not wish to be so bothered. To the roof, it is."

The guards were shocked into open mouthed awe as the vagrant before them transformed into something much more brilliant. The unremarkable garb became a bright gown, banded to match the steps behind the figure. From this creature's back sprung three identical wings, erupting into a triskele behind him. Leaping into the air, the creature flew calmly up toward the tower's pinnacle. Two wings carried him upward, the third folded close to his back.

A clamor arose from the plaza below as the masses noticed the messenger climbing steadily up the enormous tower. A magical barrier of force appeared above him to bar passage, but the third wing swept it aside with one quick flap. The hole closed below him, and he continued to the next barrier a few floors higher. Seven times a barrier sprang up. Seven times the third wing brushed the barrier aside effortlessly.

Finally, the messenger landed on the platform at the top of the tower. As soon as his feet touched down, the magical garb dissipated, leaving an unremarkable mendicant once more.

"Well that was quite a show," a voice from the platform's entrance called. "This will surely garner a large reaction with the city council."

The mendicant faced the woman and placed his fist gently over his heart momentarily. "Archcardinal Arrats?"

"Indeed."

"Apologies for the display, madam, but I was unable to convince the guards at the entrance to allow me passage. As I have been told this message is both private and urgent, I refused to be delayed by worthless formality. I have run these last five days to reach this city, and am unapologetically impatient at the moment."

"It is I who should apologize for my guards, sir," the Archcardinal said, laughing. "They are quite formal, as you say. But," she added, "formalities are required in this place, lest the tower become lax and degrade into a poor house for our goddesses' faithful. I am certain you understand."

"Your goddesses would be pleased to hear your devotion, madam. In fact, they seem quite pleased with you, as I understand. I have with me a scroll for your person, and was directed to relay this to you personally. See that it is sealed and unread."

Taking the scroll, the Archcardinal observed that the wax seal had not been tampered with. In surprise, she looked up at her guest more acutely for a few moments before breaking the seal and perusing it. "You have not read this?" she asked.

"I have not, madam."

"And do you know what it says?"

"I do not, madam."

She rolled the scroll shut. "Would you like to know?"

"I was told that the message is for you alone, madam. My loyalty to my employers is such that it suffices. I have no interest in its contents."

"How noble," she smirked. "The goddesses we serve--"

"You serve, Archcardinal."

"--As you wish. Then your 'employers' have requested that I complete a specific task for them. They say here that the messenger who delivers this scroll will serve as my champion in this mission and as the man who will aid in collecting the party to be involved.

"What I mean to say here is, you see, that I am to accompany you on the rest of your journey."

"Are you?" the messenger said, unimpressed. "Very well, but you must keep pace with me, then. My time is valuable, and there are still more whom I must meet with."

"Of course, sir. I need only a few moments to collect my things, and we can be off." The vagrant before her turned to the edge of the platform. Before he leapt back down, she stopped him saying, "Through the tower this time, if you would be so kind. I would not have the council any more frustrated with me as they will be on my return."

The vagrant turned back to her, "You are bound by this council, then?"

"Only politically," she shrugged. "Therein lies the problem with organizing people, of course. The more power you have over people, the more power they have over you. It can't be helped, as it is for the glory of my faith."

"Then this mission they give you irks you, as it pulls you from your divine duties."

The Archcardinal laughed. "My divine duties are to serve the goddesses of magic with my full devotion. This mission elates me, as it was given me directly by them. Not to mention," her eyes glimmered, "it gets me away from all these rank-hungry people. I do not have much love for those more devoted to position than faith."

"You said the formalities prevented degradation."

"Not entirely, unfortunately. Some forms of degradation thrive on formality. But it is weeded out as best I can manage. It is not really my place to say, but rank and title are hardly the most important things in this world. If you would accompany me," she turned and began to walk into the tower, "I could use your assistance in packing."