[center][h1]~ Chapter 1 ~[/h1]
[sub]Yirius, Where Magic Triumphs[/sub][/center]

	Moonlight cascaded across the obsidian tiles of Ser Vermont's research facility as Victor found his seat among the the most advanced mages in Yirius, poised to witness a revolutionary new restorative magic's reveal. Vermont had been in hiding for the past several months, only showing himself in Yirius square when his appetite forced him to restock his preserves, or his appetite for knowledge pushed him to perform [i]questionable[/i] activities. Today he would showcase the fruit of his labor, that being, as he so bluntly put it, [i]reanimation.[/i] Such a terrifying sort of magic was frowned upon as a theory, but with his apparent success, the high counsel of mages in Yirius had no choice but to acknowledge what he was about to show them.

	At victors sides sat his parents, garbed in robes of purple silk alongside their son and peers. Helga VonLanmire and her sheepish husband, Victor the [i]first[/i]. Quiet murmurs were exchanged between the 10 onlookers, but Victor's parents were uncharacteristically silent. Truth was, they weren't particularly fond that the counsel had decided to allow Vermont's work to go uninterrupted. This was an abhorrent practice, and the corpse he'd chosen to demonstrate this on was unsightly.

	Vermont took his place in the center of the darkened room, and lit the torches that lined each end of his room, giving it a deathly purple glow as it refracted off of the obsidian flooring and mixed with the pale moonlight beams. He stood next to a small operating table made of hardwood, several steps away from the room's only entrance. He cleared his throat as he faced the 10 people before him, with his back to the exit. The show was about to begin.

	"Ladies, gentlemen... I assure you that this will not be another waste of your time.. Investigations in the realm of restorative magic are... Poor, and limited. But I have brought progress to this rare science, to which few understand, and even fewer can perform." Vermont started, adjusting his golden-framed glasses with his index finger. The man was decrepit, almost comparable to the corpse that lay bare between him and those he was presenting it to. As always, his black robe was torn, and loosely clung to different parts of his body, stained with ink, dirt and sweat. "I will be bringing this man back from the dead."