The scepter was stylistically gnarled and misshapen. Many mages of the colleges had their staves and scepter's custom made to be carved and laminated with the appearance of a bonafide bough they made themselves. It was a conceit many had but few voiced aloud. Malcador did not see the harm in it, but it was hard to hold it casually without gripping it in both hands, he was not quite sure how to keep it in his grasp without using it as a walking stick, and if anyone saw that, Master Oswald would be perfectly happy to turn him to a slim frog. At least the legends of a frog actually being a handsome man would have some merit, but he had no desire to be the stand in for an apocryphal fable.

He had to slink down an alleyway to use a shortcut, knowing time was of the essence. He had to dodge a pile of human refuse on the street, wondering why, for all of their knowledge and magic, they could not find a good way to get rid of something so basic as bath water and human waste. He sprinted across a street, running right past the departing figures of two professors speaking on the more esoteric philosophies of light verses the absence of darkness, before he found himself in another alley. He was beginning to breathe more heavily, growing more tired during his dead run, until he heard a familiar voice up ahead. 

"I don't think you understand, woman." Gunter replied, deceptively calm. Malcador heard a small gasp, and he recognized it immediately from hearing it in far more pleasurable terms the night before. 

Emmaline... 

He stopped at the edge, hugging the corner. He peered out, and his heart sunk when he saw his three 'comrades' surrounding Emmaline, the golden haired woman looking small in comparison to them. Gunter continued: "You cost us the first night of pie week. That's the night when all the pretty birds are out. When everyone is out for fun." 

"Lot of krowns spent last night waiting on Malcador, lot of disappointment at the end of the night." Heinrich remarked. 

"Don't worry, we're not going to hurt you." Grigor said, lightning playing on his fingertips. "We'll just give you something you'll not forget anytime soon..." 

Malcador pulled back into the alley, his heart racing. He was amazed at the surging emotion of protectiveness he felt for Emmaline at that moment. He knew they were just trying to scare her, but even the fear was more than he would allow. All at once, his desperate rage turned to calm, and out of the alley, the three mages that towered over Emmaline spun in his direction, but it was too slow. A light as bright as a firework burst in front of their eyes, and they cried out in surprise and alarm. Emmaline was less effected, but still blinking from the immense illumination when a hand took hers and pulled her away, running down the road and past a stout tower. The next alley they entered, her eyes were adjusted enough to see Malcador materialize in front of her, hugging the wall and glancing behind them to see if they were pursued. 

"I think we lost them," he told her, and breathed a sigh of relief. "What the hell are they thinking, trying to scare a woman like that?" 

He turned to Emmaline finally, his face slightly red from the exertion, and also slight embarrassment of performing what was essentially his equivalent of a heroic rescue. "If we're seen together, there might be hell to pay but... " Malcador shook his head, a defeated smile on his face. "So, want to grab a drink later?"