Verdan's Test - Part I

[Muryllis]

The Master Spellweaver had awoken before even a sliver of the sun showed itself, and he walked the cold morning air, not even shivering. As he made his way through the dewy grass, he considered the contents of of this student's test. Verdan, a young scholar aspiring to become a wizard and, eventually, an archmage. Yes, this was something the man could work with. Now, he had only to await the student's arrival; the first lights of the day had shown, and Muryllis simply stood on the soft grass as he waited.

[Verdan]

Verdan, getting word from a messenger that he was to be tested that day received a sudden, powerful rush of adrenaline through his body. Seeing as it was the crack of dawn, the adrenaline gave Verdan an abrupt jump-start on his day, allowing him to skip the several hours during which he wanders around like a reincarnated corpse, not noticing anything around him.

Skipping the above-mentioned morning routine, Verdan hurried over to the Academy of Mages for his test. The front doors flew open with a bang as Verdan made his dramatic entrance into the main building, walking inside, seemingly in slow motion, his cloak fluttering about his feet.

((No, I am not implying that Verdan can slow down time.))

Oh, man! I've always wanted to do that! he thought with excitement as everything returned to normal. Looking around, Verdan realized that the tester was nowhere in the vicinity. Realizing that the building was too precious to destroy with any faulty spell during testing, Verdan made his way outside, where he, from afar, saw the Master Spellweaver waiting for him.

Standing in front of Muryllis, Verdan bowed as he awaited instructions for his first part of testing.

[Muryllis]

The young runt's attempts to look cool blew right over the Spellweaver's head; that's how little he cared. Turning to the boy before him, he looked him over before speaking. "Tell me, young Verdan, what you know of magic now, and what you hope to achieve later in your training." A simple question, but one of great magnitude in the twisted mind of the Master Spellweaver...


((ubershortandsweetkthx))

[Verdan]

Verdan stood still as a statue as the Spellweaver gave him a looking-over. Then, came the Tester's first words: "Tell me, young Verdan, what you know of magic now, and what you hope to achieve later in your training." This caused Verdan's head to begin crawling like an anthill with aimless thoughts of all the spells he could cast. However, that was not what the Master Spellweaver wanted. Deciding to be vague and humble, Verdan spoke with respect ringing in his voice. "I know but a speck of magic compared to its whole. And what I wish to learn is anything and everything my mind can encompass. To be more precise, I wish to follow the ways of an Archmage."

[Muryllis]

About time I got one with at least half a working brain, the weary old man thought to himself. It had been years since a student had given him an answer that showed intelligence, while restraining all attempts at flattery to pure innocence. "Very intriguing; to learn all your own mind can encompass is to follow the way of the Archmagus, yet to learn of all the ways you can encompass another's mind is the way of the Neuromancer. To bond with nature is to follow the path of the Elementalist, and yet to actually become nature is reserved for the sacred Druids. That leaves us the Cleric, a master of truly spiritual magic; no matter, we have much work ahead of us. Or, rather, you do; I reserve the right to recline and humor myself with your attempts whenever I feel it necessary to do so. Understood? Very well."

Striding past the Scholar, Muryllis approached a writing desk laden with cards; a light breeze whispered quietly, nudging a few of the cards across the table. "Construct a card house using only magic; its style and looks are left to you, as is the duty of maintaining it as the wind attempts to have her way with it. You have quite a supply of cards to work with," he said, motioning to the twenty or so full decks resting on the desk. "You may begin."

[Verdan]

Verdan listened intently as Muryllis gave his speech about the different paths a mage could take and all the different possibilities. This caused the young Scholar to wonder whether he had made the right choice in following the ways of an Archmage, or an Archmagus as the Master Spellweaver called it.

Muryllis proceeded to explain Verdan's task: to build a house out of cards. Verdan was, at first, surprised with the simplicity of the task. However, his thoughts changed abruptly as he felt a breeze ruffle his hair. He winced as he thought of all the different ways he could stop the wind. He needed some sort of barrier to stop the gusts, and simultaneously create a house out of cards. He grinned as an idea popped into his head. "Am I allowed to use other other objects, aside from the ones presented to me here?" he inquired, dearly hoping that the answer would be 'yes.' "If so," he continued, "Might I have permission to leave for several moments?"

[Muryllis]

Allow him to use other objects of his own? Indeed, this boy seemed to have some brilliant ideas floating through his brilliant young head... perhaps the old guy would let him. After all, he wanted to see just what he was capab - "Nope. Use what you've got, no more," he said, pointing to the desk laden with cards. "You shall construct a house of cards on this desk, using these decks; these are your only tools, aside from your magic."

[Verdan]

Verdan patiently waited for the Master Spellweaver to respond as he was pondering whether to allow the student to use other object. Seemingly mid-thought Muryllis spoke.

"Nope. Use what you've got, no more."

Son of a... Verdan swore inwardly. This task was going to take more concentration than he expected. Feeling the wind toss his hair about brought Verdan to reality and the task at hand. Fine. No objects, it was fine by him. Slowly lifting his hands up and closing his eyes, Verdan began to mutter something under his breath while moving his hands in complex motion. After several moments, a faint crackle of magic was heard near the table as a wall of solid energy appeared at one edge of the table, several feet higher than the table itself. Repeating this process several times, Verdan's hands began to feel weaker. He was no longer manipulating the energy in the air, but drawing it from himself in order to create a sort of upside-down aquarium on top of the table. That should take care of the wind. Hopefully. Verdan thought as he dropped his hands, slightly worn out from the process. Right at that moment, the shield which held around the table nearly faded away as Verdan momentarily let himself relax. Getting his thoughts back in a timely fashion, the young Scholar barely avoided having to repeat the whole process.

Still keeping his mind on the anti-wind shield around the table, Verdan began to manipulate the cards on the table. He had forgotten everything around him, completely concentrated on the task at hand. With any distraction, either the cards would collapse or the thin wall of energy around the table would disappear, for it was well-known that a human mind can only concentrate on two things simultaneously. Carefully standing the cards up, Verdan stacked several layers of them before carefully easing his thoughts away from the cards to look at his instructor for a response.

[Muryllis]

He was pleased, but only to a certain extent; he could have used more efficient tactics, the man thought with a frown. "Very well, onto the next task," he said, allowing the entire card house to go up in flames. Walking by Verdan, Muryllis came to yet another appeared-out-of-freaking-thin-air setup. In this case, it was another writing desk - on it lay a single unsharpened lead pencil. "Your task is to sharpen this pencil, and to keep it sharp," he chuckled, knowing that Verdan would think him a time-wasting fool. However, he also knew what Verdan did not: the pencil, found in one of the old Weaver's dusty cupboards, was enchanted long ago to doodle until it lost its point. On the table near it appeared a small, never-ending stack of parchment. "Cheerio."


((nooooo muuuuuse... ))

[Verdan]

Verdan did not say a word as he proceeded to the next task. What's the catch?.. It automatically self destructs when you try to sharpen it?.. It tried to kill you if you touch it?.. We shall see... Carefully creating a small, razor thin disk consisting of energy, Verdan proceeded to begin the process of sharpening the pencil. Before he could finish, to the Scholar's horror, the pencil flew out of his hands and toward the stack of parchment, immediately beginning to draw legions of stick figures and playing tic-tac-toe with itself. Before Verdan could do anything, the pencil was blunt and could write no more. It collapsed to the table, lifeless.

Repeating the process mentioned above, Verdan this time did not let the pencil reach the paper. He enclosed the tip inside an orb in such a way that each time the instrument tried to write, it was stopped by a layer of magic. Smiling to himself, Verdan silently turned towards the Spellweaver, awaiting the next challenge.

[Muryllis]

A grin made its way to the Spellweaver's face; Verdan did not realize that an enchanted pencil did not let hope die. As it kept pounding at the paper, the pencil bored farther and farther through the layer of magic, eventually poking out and managing to make a line so thick it snapped the tip. "I'm afraid you don't have it so easy, Master Verdan."


((Hooray for four-liners))

[Verdan]

Still awaiting the Master Spellweaver's response, Verdan wondered what it was that he found so amusing. Hearing a crack, Verdan understood what it was. The pencil broke through the magic barrier. Alright then, if magic was not enough, what was?... Deciding to take another approach, Verdan looked at a nearby rock. Picking it up with a mere glance, he dropped its weight onto the pencil. Repeating the process many times with other rocks which were scattering the courtyard, the Scholar placed such a weight upon the writing implement that no human could possibly move it. The table had long collapsed under the weight. Let's see you get out of that, you little piece of sh- wood. With a careful thought, Verdan removed a layer or wood shavings from the pencil which was piled under practically a mountain.

[Muryllis]

"Pencils don't rely only on paper for writing, young one." As Muryllis said this, a furious scribbling could be head within the mountain of stones; the pencil hadd dulled itself by doodling on the very rocks that had been used to contain it. "Remember, if there is nothing left to sharpen, you lose;" a frightening point, seeing as the pencil had already shrunk to half its original length.


((Shortness ftw))

[Verdan]

Staring at the persistent pencil with fury after having dismantled the mountain, Verdan decided not to think too hard. Picking it up, Verdan calmly sharpened it at the very tip and merely kept a firm grip on it, not letting it escape his hands. Reinforcing his grip with magic helped aid the cause as the pencil tried to write on Verdan's face. Dodging out of the way, and forcing it into submission, the Scholar once more looked at Muryllis to see whether this would be enough to accomplish the task.

(Fine, then if you so insist on shortness.)

[Muryllis]

((Godmodding my pencil = big nono.))

"Good enough," the Spellweaver said, snatching the pencil out of Verdan's hand and flicking it into the air, not bothering to watch as it formed into a very fine powder. "Next," he continued, jamming a hand deep into one of his robe pockets, "I want you to take this diamond sculpture of a bird-" he pulled one out "-and teach it to fly." Indeed, the man had a habit of assigning seemingly pointless tasks. However, this wasn't entirely pointless - the point was that it is funny to watch someone attempt to teach an animated bird - made of heavy diamond, impossible to infuse with magic by all but the most powerful of mages - to fly. "Good luck," he cackled.