Staff with Staffs

Elsewhere :

Savos Aren, Arch-Mage of Winterhold College lets out a sigh as he lowers himself into his chair, his eyes drifting to Mirabelle, the College's Master Wizard, and Tolfdir, the person he most expects to take the position of Arch-Mage once it is free. Both were sitting opposite him with cups filled with special spiced tea that he'd acquired from a friend over in Black Marsh.

"I hope you enjoy the tea, I'm beholden to mention that the cost of it was definitely not low. Indeed, had I access to the Argonian's fabled Hist, I might have tried to grow it here..." he shakes his head at getting lost in a tangent and stops turning his spoon with telekinesis. "How was your earlier lecture, my friend?" he asks, turning to Tolfdir.

The old Nord smiles and takes a sip from the brew, his face tensing as he quickly but gently lowers it back to the table. "I fear my palate isn't as developed as yours, Savos... My lectures have all been well received. At least, I hope they were." he chuckles, "I have had some inquiries from my students however. The Jarl of Windhelm's recent actions have put them all on edge, many are thinking of leaving Skyrim all together in search of safer learning environments." he sadly admits.

Mirabelle nods, "It's been the same for me, two Altmer students have already fled in fear of persecution. I suspect that we'll be left with a handful of students should this 'Ulfric' stay on his course of destruction."

"A sad state of affairs for all around. To be honest with you both, I would not know who to side with should the worst occur. Under all of the propaganda and fear mongering, I think that Ulfrica Stormcloak is far less racist than he presents himself. I imagine he is partly echoing the feeling of those he rules over, instead of asserting his own. The fact he hasn't banished all of the Mer races from his city should say something... Regardless, I don't purport to know what he is truly thinking." he says with a sigh,

"I did wish to discuss something else however... Have any new Apprentice's caught your eyes at all? Any unpolished talents? Or perhaps, wolves in sheep's clothing?"

Tolfdir runs some fingers through his white beard, "Now that you mention it, those brothers who joined us not long ago. While not significantly talented in the mystic arts, their creativity continues to baffle me..."

"Oh? That's a first." Mirabelle smiles, glad to get away from the topic of the potential Civil War.

Tolfdir nods enthusiastically while trying to restrain his own smile, "I mean, by all the Gods, who else would attempt to capture and store a Flame Atronach into a wooden brewing barrel to give the drink more 'Spice!?'. It sounds like something an unstudied fool would think of... Yet they almost did it!"

The trio chuckle, each remembering the incident. "Oh yes, I think I remember that one... Was it Collete or Sergius who almost died fighting a 'Boiling Beer Atronach?'"

"Both, judging by their reluctance to look at ale nowadays!... How about you, Savos? I know you've been showing an interest in our newest members... Charlotte, Michael, Tiffania, and Ilkoko...?"

"It's Illococoo, I wouldn't let her hear you mispronounce her name, her research into the Thu'um had progressed enough that she should be able to shout you out of College... In the most literal sense you can imagine." The Arch-mage murmurs into his cup of tea.

Tolfdir nods, "Yes well, they've been progressing faster than Apprentices usually do... But, I am somewhat worried about them. You've both noticed, surely? They are hiding something."

"Their new focus on Conjuration, specifically contracts and anything to do with coercion and domination has certainly raised red flags with Urag gro-Shub. Everyone has secrets, but if they're going to attempt something that could put the entire College at risk, matters such as these should be investigated." Mirabelle states.

The Arch-mage nods in agreement, "Indeed. Sadly, they appear to have something important outside of the College to attend to. I personally do not believe they are going to do something dangerous, they are not the sort of people that usually dabble in such dangerous rituals... I will have a word with them once they return however, my duty as Arch-Mage compels me to do as much..." he says, leaving a momentary lull in the conversation before he perks up again.

"So, what was that project you wished to talk to me about, Tolfdir?"

The old Alteration Master leans forward with interest and almost shining eyes, "Well, I received news that an ancient Nord tomb was nearby. So I wished to ask for permission and funds to uncover it. If it is what I think it is, it might be a truly revolutionary discovery... Saarthal"

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Over in Markarth, the group had just exited the Temple of Dibella after another disastrous attempt at gaining the God's assistance in healing Maria. Charlotte was obviously devastated and barely holding back tears despite her attempts to hold her usual neutral expression.

Senna, the Priestess of Dibella had been truly apologetic at their circumstances, and had even recommended a 'special' service to see if they could catch Dibella's attention... When asked what that was, she'd explained that it was essentially just an orgy, one where all the participants would wear special jewellery dedicated to Dibella.

Michael had been about to agree, but was stopped when Tiffania almost bit the poor priestess's head off. The glare that she'd given was not one you'd expect from the usually friendly and timid Half-Elf.

Regardless, the day ended in failure, and the group had no idea where to go from there. Michael had promised to help heal Maria, but things just hadn't gone their way. They'd even asked Colette, the Scholar of Restoration at the College if she could do anything, only for her to admit that there was no spell she knew of that could heal damage like what Maria had sustained.