[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01989753-c0d4-751e-94b6-ac932f65638b.webp[/img][hr][@Achronum][@Trainerblue192][@Morose][@Blizz][@Kirah][@PatientBean][@Teyao][@KazAlkemi][@kittyluna45][hr][h3][color=57F287][b]Late Morning - Fri. Nov. 1st, 2040 [/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr]


[H1][center][color=Red]The Statue of Ardyon[/color][/center][/h1]
[sub][center]Connie, Barty, Jake[/center][/sub]

“The foolishness of youth.” Croan shook his head, frowning in disapproval at Jake. “Your recklessness may have killed you and endangered others - a vague notion is not enough to interact with unknown artifacts safely. Consider those around you before your naivety kills them.” He took on the distinct look of having sucked a lemon. 

“However, you are not entirely incorrect. The spellwork maintaining the effect is crafted with the intent to persist in perpetuity. While we cannot identify the source maintaining it, previous covens have confirmed that failed attempts to break the spell only feed it and make it more challenging to break.” Croan offered. "As for your question, I believe the statue is likely playing with your head. It is unlikely he can hear us and from what analysis we have completed, he is alive. I do not know anything about protecting - as you can see the theif is stuck in its own prision."

[H1][center][color=magenta]A Trip through Magic[/color][/center][/h1]
[sub][center]Willow, Nicky, Callaghan, Cassiopeia[/center][/sub]

Mikkail watched Nicholas's outburst with mild concern and he let the heavy thud at his feet linger between them for a few moments. He glanced down, sighed, and a rainbow hue traced the veins up his throat from his chest and into his mouth before vanishing. He squatted down, knees cracking loudly as he did, and picked up the book and looked at the name for a long, long while. He contemplated his next words carefully. 

“Cha fhuasgail mealladh an duilgheadas gu bràth, Paedrus. An ceann greis, iarraidh an àm a dh’fhalbh a dhìcheall. Tha mi an dòchas gu bheil fios agad dè a tha thu a’ seasamh air a shon nuair a thig an t-àm.” Mikkail stood with a groan and crossed the room, where old and tattered notebooks sat on a glass shelf with star themed book ends. “When you're ready.” He slipped Nicholas's notebook onto the shelf and returned to the board, patting Nicholas on the shoulder as he did. The somberness passed and he beamed at Cassie. 

“Well done, Cassie! That is all quite correct and for being the first student to answer a question this year, a special surprise to go along with your notebook!” Mikkail plucked a tiger's eye fountain pen from the air and presented it to her with a flourish. “Im some magical traditions, Tiger's Eye is meant to bring good luck and inspire courage in those who wear it. I hope it does all that and more for you my dear.” He turned and picked up the chalk once more writing underneath the name of their subject. 

“The grimoire was copied in such a way that the magic could not be accessed - pieces of spells and rituals were cut out to keep the effects within the religious intentions of the author. It was censored, which I believe to be one reason it was used so aggressively against the witches and magical beings of the age. They remind me of a time when I was across the stars and settled on a little planetoid that was home to exactly seventy three organisms at any given time.” Mikkal turned away from the board, but the chalk continued to write behind him. “Their magic was more a form of shifting energies and pure, unaltered expressions of will rather than our formulas and incantations and such, but the few rituals they did employ were quite similar enough that it intrigued me. Was this grimoire a product of these people? And if so did it merge with the magic of this world's people? Or is it simply happenstance that two worlds, thousands of light years apart, developed the same magic? These questions plague me, day and night, and your assistance will help bring me peace and you new skills in research and investigation, the core of all developmental practices!”

Behind him, the chalk stilled and settled in the tray beneath. Written in a language none of the students knew, five lines of text written in shaky stared back at them. Only one line, comprised of one word, was in english: 

[center][i]Escape[/i][/center]

“Now, off-site travel is typically restricted the first few weeks of the year so I would use this time to plunder the library. You'll have access to far more material now that you are in a coven and you are of course, welcome to my own material anytime you wish! It'll be important to determine when and where the grimoire first appeared and then you can slowly follow through time; of course, it is difficult to do that when you don't know which one is the original! Does anyone suppose they know the best way to tackle that particular quandry?”

[Hider=Translation]
An illusion never solves the problem, Nicholas. Sooner or later, the past will demand its due. I hope you know what you stand for when the time comes.[/hider]

[H1][center][color=gold]Into the Unknow[/color][/center][/h1]
[sub][center]Rohan, Finley/Dysphoria, Frankie, Annika[/center][/sub]

“Very good, Frankie. One reason is security. As many of you may have surmised, power is the other. The magic poured into a sympathetic construct is far lesser than the magic needed to perform the same effect on the full sized object.” Sariel explained, walking to the center table and holding her palm flat over it. Sparks of magic extended into humming energy and struck into the table. The floor shook as something moved beneath their feet. “Its also a useful technique because you can draw on power, although at significantly reduced conversion efficiency, of other locations to feed into the spell since a single sympathetic construct can represent multiple people, areas, effects, etc.  It is incredibly convenient so the question then becomes why not use it for every spell? And the answer is simple.” The center of the table finished rising and a safe door, no taller than 18 inches and no wider than 12, greeted them. Sariel twisted and turned the dial and popped open the door. 

Inside, a velvet wrapped chamber greeted them, empty and a little dusty. “Its a vulnerability. Since it is a representation of you or whatever it is symbolizing, sympathetic constructs are an opening in your natural defenses against magical intrusion. I'm sure everyone knows what a voodoo doll is? It's the perfect example. It is why whatever you create must fit in this space, so we can lock it up and then safely dispose of it once you have completed your time with me.” Sariel patted the velvet cushioning. “Now, your task is to complete the anchor and place it in the safe. I will lock it up and then I will cast the spell to activate it. I will be here to supervise and offer whatever guidance I may, but this task is otherwise yours to complete before leaving today.”