Tuesday, July 31, 2012

From the Desk of Maskar Wands

Maskar Wands 

Let it be known to all mages and wizards of the Order that I, Maskar Denethor Wands hereby assumes the position of interim Archmage of the Order of Magists and Protectors…

A polite knock at Maskar’s massive oaken door overcame the sound of rain outside and arrested his quill from its meticulous work; this letter was difficult enough as it was without distractions Maskar mused but such was the existence of high office.

“Sai Maskar?” It was Scirkel, “the wizards you called for have arrived.” He said with a touch of mild trepidation, uncle Maskar was an imposing figure and frightened Scirkel more than any wizard of his house.

“Thank you Scirkel, send them up and call for my wife as well.” Maskar bid the young alchemist.

Finishing his official announcement Maskar stood, stretched his back, and turned to the window overlooking the Street of Bells and thought deeply about his missing brother Marcus and his first directive as Archmage of the Order. Outside a swarm of pigeons took flight in alarm at the imposing robed figure now standing in the window. The blizzard conditions of the past couple of days subsided only to allow room for freezing rain that added to the misery and tolls already suffered by the good folk of Waterdeep. From here in his third floor office, Maskar could see his remaining brother Raine’s Colossus being retrofitted for travel and longed to accompany him to Thay, but matters of the Order could not be ignored and who, if not Maskar, would protect house Wands from the multitudes of adversaries? Breaking Maskar from his thoughts were the footfalls and mutterings from the seven spell-casters he called to palaver.  

Lady-Sai Olanhr Wands 
One by one they entered: Fea Eltorchul, eldest daughter and heir to her house; the Lady-Sai Hlantos Melshimber, the gifted pupil to the Sage Ammathar; Huld Belabranta, the dark enchanter and patron of his House; Sorvani, an accomplished traveler and spell-caster from Zhentil Keep; Fistandantilus, a rather callous but capable mage; Circe Assumbar, Lord Laeros’ sister and heir regent accompanied by her bonded familiar; and finally Maskar’s beautiful wife, Lady-Sai Olanhr Wands who seemed as confused as the others when entering the office. Without preamble Maskar summoned several plush red and gold seating to accommodate the five women and two men; his spacious office had suddenly become much smaller.

After an exchange of pleasantries and the offering of refreshments Maskar began; “It is with a heavy heart that I take on the office my brother Marcus has vacated.” He looked to his wife who offered her usual supportive smile. How he loved her. “However, I have summoned you here because you all escaped the unfortunate Midsummer scroll larceny. You seven, to my knowledge, are the only ones in the city who retained your talents in scribing scrolls. Therefore I am requiring that, until such time as the threat against this city has been routed, each of you is to focus your efforts on scribing scrolls of fire and flame.” 

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