[center][hider=Dreams Are Best][center]I just think that dreams are best,
Just to sit and fancy things;
Give your gold no acid test,
Try not how your silver rings;
Fancy women pure and good,
Fancy men upright and true:
Fortressed in your solitude,
Let Life be a dream to you.

For I think that Thought is all;
Truth's a minion of the mind;
Love's ideal comes at call;
As ye seek so shall ye find.
But ye must not seek too far;
Things are never what they seem:
Let a star be just a star,
And a woman - just a dream.

O you Dreamers, proud and pure,
You have gleaned the sweet of life!
Golden truths that shall endure
Over pain and doubt and strife.
I would rather be a fool
Living in my Paradise,
Than the leader of a school,
Sadly sane and weary wise.

O you Cynics with your sneers,
Fallen brains and hearts of brass,
Tweak me by my foolish ears,
Write me down a simple ass!
I'll believe the real 'you'
Is the 'you' without a taint;
I'll believe each woman too,
But a slightly damaged saint.

Yes, I'll smoke my cigarette,
Vestured in my garb of dreams,
And I'll borrow no regret;
All is gold that golden gleams.
So I'll charm my solitude
With the faith that Life is blest,
Brave and noble, bright and good,...
Oh, I think that dreams are best! 
[color=gray][sub]Robert William Service[/sub][/color][/center][/hider][/center]

[center][youtube]?v=j-Fhx2IEztw[/youtube]

[color=lightslategray][i]"Jeorva.... Meet us in Jeorva, human...."

"Make haste.... Tell no one...."

"Please.... the Academy...."

"Quietly.... Quickly...."

"Come... to Jeorva...."[/i][/color][/center]

The skies over Jeorva shifted restlessly as the white clouds rolled and tumbled against the fading blue sky. The sun still had a good hour of work to do before it would be allowed to start slipping past the horizon to settle in for the night. The streets of Jeorva started to flood with the aroma of dinners being prepared, though the streets were still very much full of merchants and traders selling their wares. A soft breeze tousled the tree branches and the leaves jumped from their places to help signal the coming of winter and shower the passing townsfolk with red, yellow, and orange.

The last few over-achievers from the massive Jeorva Academy on the Northern side of town tricked out the large oak doors and down the stairs into the cobblestone streets. It seemed a regular day in the busy trading town. This would likely be a picturesque scene of a city in a kingdom of peace were it not for the massive orc soldiers that roamed each corner and the green-faced goblins that crept behind the merchant stalls-- no doubt doing their fair share of stealing and extorting. 

Occasionally a cry of fear or a desperate apology would ring out from wherever a large misshapen green-gray head and spear emerged from the crowd of humans. It was unnervingly noticeable as those areas seemed to be most eerily quiet. People would duck their head and pray the orc soldiers would take no interest in them. Of course, if they considered you pretty or pathetic enough-- sometimes that wasn't enough. By now, however, harassment was almost as common as breathing.

On one street, one could see a large, dark gray orc grab a young woman by her arm and caress her face. She was obviously trying to jerk herself away, but with a simple lifting of his arm, the orc nearly lifted the maiden completely off the ground. On another street one would notice a young man running amid the crowd, clutching something to his chest and throwing elbows to force himself through. Another man chased him, yelling for someone to stop him. A pair of orc guards snickered to each other as they stood off to the side of the street and enjoyed the show momentarily before continuing on their way. 

Poor humans.... A figure shrouded in a grey blue cloak stood cautiously behind a partially opened window that overlooked the city in the attic high above the academy. It creaked loudly as the figure tried to open it a bit further, but a sudden gust of wind sent the wood shutter door crashing open. The sound and light that filled the dusty dark room disturbed a flock of sleeping birds and pixies. The figure held a hand up and took a step back as the group flapped and fluttered past her face and out the window.

"[color=lightslategray]Excuse you,[/color]" Rowena muttered tersely, brushing a stray feather and some pixie dust from her shoulder. Glancing further out the window, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, furrowing her brow in concentration. The wind, which was still blowing with great force, blew her hood off, exposing her long pointed ears. She opened her honey gold eyes. The last elementos had entered the city. It was time to meet with them. 

"[color=lightslategray]Late...[/color]," Rowena said sullenly, glancing at the sun, "[color=lightslategray]Why are they so late...?[/color]" She stepped away from the window and strode across the room. As she descended the stairs, she withdrew a small bottle of black powder from her satchel, continuing to mutter to herself.