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*The darkness parts to reveal a dark haired, light skinned elf draped in black from head to toe. He is carrying a case, bearing roughly the size and shape of a stringed musical instrument*

*The Elf takes a quick scan at the rougue's gallery standing out at the fire pit.*

Its a cold night, gents. Perhaps he warm our hearts and ears with a bit of drink and a song?

*Takes a seat by the fire and begins unpacking his instrument*

By the by, does anyone know where the elves take company around here?

*Neshca turns to the one coming forth form the darkness. An speaks in a clear tone.*

"Greetings who are you? I am Neshca Savio and to answer your question. I am not sure where you would find such a place now days."

"It seems to be the night for newcomers," commented a short, dark-haired woman sitting near the fire with a cloak drawn around her. "Although I suppose I'm not really one to talk; I'm new around here myself. I'm Valeria. What brings you to Haven?"

A hacking cough announces the presence of yet another. An elderly man advances slowly toward the firelight with the aid of an obsidian cane. The ornate, dagged sleeves draped over gloved hands are indicative of the learned, the significant bulges beneath his black and red outer cloak hint at weighty burdens. His face is mostly hidden by a heavy cowl, with only a deeply lined frown and long locks of white hair visible to the light of the flickering flames.

He speaks before anyone can offer the usual ‘Who goes there?’

“I see military men and women in this town,” he croaks, “along with well armed and equipped mercenaries and adventurers. Their worn armor reveals they have seen much action. These buildings appear stout, but likewise veterans of battle. Thus do I consider this place secure… but not safe.”

He reaches the fireside, and sits delicately in an unoffered seat. “Is my assessment accurate?”

From the porch of the Inn another dark figure appears carrying a sword and heavy shield. He walks slowly toward the group with his dark cloak wrapped around him obscuring his face and pointed ears.

He looks at Amagus with narrow eyes before speaking, "I couldn't help but hear your question from the Inn's shelter. I'd say you were entirely accurate. There has never been true safety here, nor anywhere I have ever lived. But, we do our best to respond in kind to those who mean us harm."

He rests his shield against the table slowly, "Your a wizard, yes?"

“Goooood, gooood.” Amagus purrs at the confirmation. “This may indeed be the haven I have long sought.”

He looks up at Shale with one eye gray as thunderclouds, the other the rusty red of old blood.

“I am… was… a sorcerer of great repute. But then the nature of magic changed, requiring remastery. Mastery, of course, requires much concentration, study… and time.”

He pauses in a fit of coughing, then continues.

“Such are luxuries afforded only in a protected place. Perhaps in this town I may have them. It lacks prejudice against magic, does it not?”

Shale stared at Amagus’ eyes his own red eyes softly reflecting the firelight as his grip on his sword tightens slightly. “Correct.” he said. “This Haven has no bias against magic itself, only those who might use it for evil purposes. Allow me an introduction. I am the High Magus of Final Haven Shale Bazenstoke; member in good standing of the arcane Guild of Thunder.”

He takes a step between Amagus and the others sitting around the fire. “Surely, if your deeds are of great repute I may have heard of you and your deeds of reputation, but I have not heard your name. However, I do know another wizard, of great and terrible renown, whose arrival I have been expecting for nine months now... I hope that your advent at this moment is only an unfortunate coincidence.”

He smiled slightly as he asked, “Is your only desire here in Haven truly just a place to conduct peaceful research?”

“You have not heard of Amagus?”

He gave a chilling cackle. “No, I see you have not. Clearly you still had much to learn of the Old Magic.”

Another chuckle. “Not surprising, for the Old Magic was prismatic in structure – each band of power self-contained. They did not mingle easily with neighboring powers, and were mutually exclusive to non-adjacent bands. Absolute mastery was nigh impossible.”

A leer slowly spread across his face. “Not like today – oh, no. All the magic of yesteryear is still out there, but now merged into a single, ultimate force! True, the powers of Fire, Water, Air, Earth, and… others may still be distilled from this All, but focusing on regaining past abilities is extraordinarily narrow-minded, given today’s possibilities.”

“Before the cataclysm, when one called up a fireball, only the Power of Fire could be utilized. Today, this fireball may be augmented with the speed of Air, the strength of Earth, the tenaciousness of Nature… even the irresistibility of Water. These are all now one, single Power! All of it is for the taking! A mage can rise faster and higher then ever before dreamed possible!”

Another cackle. “Of course, care and caution must be of equal increase. With such access to Power extreme, all the more easily might catastrophe occur should a spell go awry. We must proceed with diligence less we accidentally destroy this town.”

He pauses to cough for a bit.

“A Guild of Mages, you say? Excellent! This town is bound for greatness indeed given such forethought and support into the cultivation of Magic.”

Amagus slowly rises to his feet with the aid of his cane, then stoops slightly in a version of a bow.
“I request entry to this Guild of yours, High Magus. You will find me a great asset. Provide me with the spells your acolytes have thus far manifested, and both my studies and my immediate worth to you will be greatly enhanced.”

He lowers his voice to a more ominous tone. “I must admit, however, that as these lands are not peaceful, nor will be my research. Trust you will find this stance more to your liking.”

*fender stands up and walks over from his seat around the fire*

whats all this cackling i hear?

*looks at the man in the cloak*

oh great another person i have to protect while they cast their spells

Another cough as Amagus shuffles about to face the warrior.

“Oh, I am not one to gallivant about the field of battle. I am but an old man, - best left among the books and reagents. Yes, I require protection, but I do strive not to be a burden. I should not need your services often.”

*fenders face is now one of embarassmet*

oh i am sorry good sir

its just i was thinking of what a good freind would have said, i miss him already.

*sighs*

rest well Chargoth Karkon^Vol

*Fender reaches his hand out*

My name is Fender Brawnavil. I am a member and protector of haven, and a Kinght and Shield of the Phoenix Guard

*Accepts the hand*

"Well met, Fender. Amagus Avantine - aspirer to be one of your protectorates. Heh heh. Such titles! A Knight AND a Shield of the illustrious Phoenix Guard!"

*Turns to Shale*

"One of your finest commanders, I take it?"

Shale looks at Fender’s back as his eye twitches, and he adjusts the grasp on his sword’s handle. Fender had to be the most amiable dwarf Shale had ever met.

He sighed and placed a hand on Fender’s shoulder stepping aside him next to Amagus. “Fender.” He said softly and with a modicum of patience. “I know you mean well, but I was talking to our new friend here and there is yet some suspicion as to his true identity and intentions.” Shale smiles at his young dwarvin friend and says, “I can see you will need to see a bit more than open battle in the field before your seasoned enough to take a mantle such as constable should Incarious be unable to return to his duties. Allow me to ask Mr. Avantine a few questions before we roll out the red carpet, and hail his arrival as a day to commemorate. Perhaps you will listen with me, and help divine the integrity of the conversation? Call it training.”

Without waiting for Fender to answer Shale again addressed Amagus. “Sir, forgive my suspicion, but as you have said. This land is unsafe and I have never met a master of the old magics that meant us well. I need to ask you a few straightforward and eccentric questions that could most likely be a waste of your time, but should you’re answers alleviate my wariness I think Haven would be the better for it and I will personally invite you into our guild hall.”

“First; are you, or have you ever been affiliated with, the necromancer Narnian? Second; are you, or have you ever been affiliated with, the being known commonly as Pentag? Last; do you mean harm and/or exploitation of the citizens and protectorates of Final Haven?”

“Questions. Of course. I would be most disappointed if you had none, my Lord. Narnian you say? I have it on good authority he had been utterly destroyed. I find it difficult to believe he could be returned in any way or form. But then again, with this new magic, anything becomes possible. Heh, heh, heh. Is he causing mischief here? Now? Then this place most definitely is unsafe! Heh heh…”

His chuckle degenerates into a coughing fit. When he recovers…

“To answer your question my Lord, no. Narnian has never been in my service, nor myself in his. We have never partnered, schemed, or otherwise worked toward a common end. Had we ever met, one would more likely have destroyed the other rather than some form of alliance occur.”

“And Pentag… Pentag… Pentaguishine, the Valkin’VI assassin? He, too, I thought long dead. The tale of his demise is an ironic one. If he, too, is back… In the ‘employ’ of Narnian? He would make a formidable and deadly tool in that Necromancer’s hands. But rest assured my Lord, I have neither met nor hired Pentaguishine.”

“And that last question. I would be foolish indeed were I to intentionally harm those I depend upon for my wellbeing. As for exploiting, well, that is a relative term now, isn’t it. But I do not believe my intentions are exploitive. In return for food, shelter, protection, and other necessities, I will work to increase the Power of this aptly named Haven. My efforts, with proper support, may well prevent the deaths of many town-members on future battlefields.”