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Thread: The Reforged Saga - Prologue: Great Expectations IC [M]

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    Default The Reforged Saga - Prologue: Great Expectations IC [M]

    This RP is rated M for possible violence, racism, sexual themes, strong language, substance use, and difficult moral decisions, among other things. It should be noted that many of the characters may be under the age of eighteen. This RP may include themes such as coming-of-age, questions of religion, and the true meaning of freedom. As such, if players feel that they cannot handle such material, it is best for them to steer clear of this RP.

    Link to OOC. We are always accepting.

    The quiet tread of Jass’ vat boots echoed off the smooth stone walls of the Grand Academy as he led the fyora through the maze of hallways. Bleak grey, the walls rose seamlessly from the floor as one great piece, rising twice the height of men until they met at a gentle curve. Great windows of clear glass let in light on the surface while green crystals placed along the hall glowed with tan light as he drew near them, snuffing themselves when he had passed. Everywhere turrets sat in stone alcoves, their thorn projectors held at the ready to repel unwanted intruders.

    A gentle, almost imperceptible slope in the floor lowered Jass into the bowels of the Academy. Here the windows vanished and the turret alcoves grew in number, their occupants becoming more deadly and in much greater variation. The Shaper Doors became reversed, their great stone pieces made to rise into the ceiling rather than slide beneath the earth. The silent stone of the hallways seemed to swallow the sounds of his footsteps and make the air chill like a tomb. No secrets, Shaper or otherwise, traveled far here.

    Eventually Jass came to one of the doors, its surface inlaid with runes. Where others would be blocked, he passed through without contest. Beyond lay a spartan room. The walls were unadorned and the only furniture was a small wooden cabinet. Turrets lined the walls and clustered around another door which sat in the middle of the room. Circling it, Jass found a twin on the other side and another door out. The twin rose up to reveal Mind Herrol.

    The Servant Mind was awake, as all of its kind would be at this hour. Not for the first time, Jass wondered what it would be like to have such intelligence as the creature before it, but no free will of its own. He dismissed the thought. Giving a creation like this free will would be an abomination against Shaper Law and as even this one was aware, absolute loyalty to the Shapers was paramount.

    “Greetings Shaper.” said Mind Herrol, its almost human skull looking disturbing attached to its pot belly pig body, “My internal clock indicates that it is early morning. Do you require something from me?”

    As he prepared his reply, Jass reflected how Shaper training changed a person in ways that outsiders and creations seemed to recognize as well as Shapers. The graduate student might not have been a Shaper, but Mind Herrol was obviously aware that was where he was headed. Or perhaps someone had told him. In any case, if the Mind believed as much, then any command Jass gave it would obey.

    “I need to access the Archive.” Jass replied.

    “A moment, Shaper.” returned the creature. Its human-like eyelids closed and for a moment it appeared to go into the dormancy that could preserve it here in its tray for centuries. An elder example of its kind, Mind Herrol had certainly displayed this ability before and still retained the knowledge and powers it needed to serve its role as passage guardian, knowledge store, and advisor to Shapers. Its eyes moved rapidly under the skin lids and finally opened, “It is done, Shaper. Is there anything else you require?”

    Jass shook his head and turned as the stone door slid open. He stepped into the Grand Archive.
    Pausing for a moment, Jass looked around. The Grand Archive was a collection of rolled scrolls, bound tomes, and sealed knowledge crystals lay upon rows and rows of shelves that stretched from the floor to the flat ceiling above. Made up of an untold number of rooms just like this one scattered throughout the Academy, the Archive was the greatest repository of knowledge in the Known World.

    Striding among the pristine shelves, Jass read the labels in passing, reflecting that the danger here had always seemed to warrant greater protection than what it had. Then again, though there was much even here in one of the auxiliary repositories, there was very little overall. He had not seen all the rooms, but he knew that there was likely not to be much. Shapers were nothing if not jealous of their knowledge and so they rarely wrote things down where outsiders might find them. Many of the other rooms were filled not with direct knowledge, but with weapons and armor and odds and ends gathered such as to make the Archive appear more of a trophy collection than a knowledge storehouse. They contained more examples of knowledge than guides to it. This room was an exception more than the norm and that is why Jass knew he would find him here.

    Picking his way through the shelves, Jass came upon who he sought. The small fyora padded up behind him and clung to his leg as it peeked around to see what he had stopped for. Seated at one of the study tables was a Shaper. This man was not a Shaper as outsiders or the Mind would recognize, but a true Shaper, one who had been anointed by the Council and accepted into the sect of the same name. Even though the robes of his Order covered much of his being, the back marked with the symbol of the Shapers, Jass could see the man’s youth. He could also see that the man was very much aware of the arrival of the graduate and the anger that went beyond simple annoyance of being interrupted.
    “You need something, graduate?” said the man. His voice was still marked by the smooth tones of a young man himself, but there was a bit of a forced roughness, as one might do to appear older than they were. “Or are you just here to admire?”

    Jass bristled at this. Something about the man always irritated Jass and no more so than now. Still, he remembered his courtesies with an effort and replied, “I was hoping to seek your council, Councilman Praco. I am in need of assistance.”

    “Oh? Is that so?” returned Praco, a slight sneer in his voice as he turned away from his book to face Jass from his chair. The younger man could only see the dull gleam of reflected light from under the robe hood and the light skin of the man’s chin where a dull brown stubble grew. “And what might you require that you would need me to do? I have heard no explosions, so surely if you are as capable as they say, you should be able to figure it out for yourself.”
    Staring furiously at the man, Jass fought to keep his temper in check. Ignoring the dismissal evident in the comment, Jass gestured to the fyora that clung to his feet. “I found this creation wandering the hallways. It has the look of your work to it.”

    Praco affected a false yawn, raising a hand to cover his mouth. “What of it? I have many creations patrolling the Academy.” He looked at the fyora, then back at Jass. “Did you think to bother me over something as trivial as a patrol?”

    “If it was not so clearly not being guided, then I might not have,” replied Jass dryly. That brought a sharp intake of breath from Praco and when the Shaper spoke, his voice was laced with menace. “Are you implying that I had let a creation loose to do as it pleased?” He rose to his feet. The man only stood slightly taller than Jass, but the graduate was quite certain that he would overtake the Council member in time. “You dare?” demanded Praco, his voice rising.

    Before Jass could reply, a voice came from nearby, “Is there a problem, sirs?” The two turned to see a veritable giant standing about the shelves. Even dressed in a simple cloth jerkin emblazoned with the symbol of the Shapers, Councilman Quartis was an imposing figure. The towering Guardian was a fine example of his sect. Though he carried drooping white whiskers there was slight sag to the taunt skin of his face, Quartis was still far younger in appearance than his real age would give to normal men. The Master of Creations was well respected for his mastery in managing all the creatures made by the Shapers of the Academy.

    Walking up to the confrontation, Quartis simultaneously seemed to be genuinely interested in what was happening and quietly warning for the two to cease their bickering. Being known for a calm, patient demeanor did not stop him from being as authoritative as Jass’ father. He looked from Jass’ face to Praco’s and back for a moment. Then, ever the gentle giant, he knelt down and gestured to the fyora. The creation looked up to Jass for a moment, but the graduate student waved it on and it went to be petted by a hand like a spade. The Guardian stood a moment later and said to Praco, “Aren’t your classes about to begin, Councilman? I should think that the students will be sorely missing you if you stayed among these musty shelves. Best be off.”

    Praco said nothing for a moment, his face still hidden in the shadow of his hood. To Jass’ eyes, even as the Shaper betrayed nothing, he was clearly weighing his options: stay and argue it out or take his leave and save some dignity. He chose the latter and the other two watched as he quietly replaced the book he had been studying and left without a word.

    Jass nodded respectfully to Quartis, but could not help throwing a look of distaste at Praco’s retreating back. The young Councilman’s back seemed to tense when he did, as if he could feel the graduate’s piercing gaze, but he did not turn. An uncertain chitter from the fyora brought Jass’ eyes to it. It may not have understood exactly what had occurred, but it was aware of something unpleasant occurring. Looking at it, Jass figured that it might think of what was happening like a mortal might watch the gods of the feral tribes fighting; it was best to be away under those circumstances.

    Quartis caught Jass’ eye and shook his head, a faint, amused smile on his features. He set off down another of the pristine aisles between the bookshelves. The fyora only paused for a moment to look back at Jass before following.

    His task done, Jass made his way out of the archive, weaving his way back through the high shelves, stately reading pedestals, and low study tables. His path quickly returned him to the great stone hallway, though neither of the Councilmen were to be seen. That was not surprising, as there was a great deal of ways through the hallways. Making his way back to the surface would be a long and laborious process without the presence of the fyora on his mind, but it would give him time to reflect on what had happened.

    On the whole Jass considered himself to be a relatively reasonable individual who did not go looking for fights most of the time. Many a time when he stood aside when challenged, opting for discretion over pointless conflict. True, he was a stickler for the rule of Shaper Law and did not long tolerate any violations and that earned him few friends, but most of his class considered him level-headed and reasonable. The peculiar assertiveness that existed in those who graduated that was so much admired was absent in him, replaced instead by a quiet respect for knowing what he was about.

    However, all of that seemed to go out the window whenever he was confronted with anything to do with Praco. No matter how civil Jass attempted to be with the junior Councilman, they always seemed to end up in arguments that, to both their embarrassment, other Shapers ended up having to solve before they got into a brawl. At least that is what most tried. Quartis and Uthain had the most success where others constantly teetered on inflaming the problem.
    Of course, Jass’ father was the whole problem in the first place. The Head Council member had been unabashedly honest in admitting why Praco disliked Jass. In short, the young Shaper had been Uthain’s shadow son and protégé until Jass had been born. Praco had been forced to watch as Uthain turned his attention to his true son, leaving his would-be heir-apparent behind. It bred a certain amount of resentment and that showed in Praco.

    The problem was that it didn’t explain why Jass was disagreeable on his end. The merchants’ son was, after all, a Councilman. Whether or not he was the youngest, Jass should be less inclined to show his anger towards the Shaper and bury is pride under the training that taught respect when not a Shaper and equal treatment when you were. It should have never got to the point where the rest of the Council was well aware of their animosity.

    Pausing at a crossroads before continuing, Jass turned that over in his mind. In truth, he knew that he was not the only student who was less than hesitant to dismiss the Councilmember. Jass was just notable for being the only one brave or stupid enough to challenge the Shaper directly instead of behind his back.

    So engrossed on his deliberations about the nature of Praco’s existence was Jass that he didn’t realize that he was being watched until a teasing voice said, “And a good morning to you, little one.”

    Jass looked up and blinked, noticing two things. First, he was now on the surface and nearing the entrance. In fact, he was in the entrance hall already, the mighty stone architecture surrounding him. This surprised him, as it was a long way from the Archive to get here. He hadn’t even noticed the journey. Second, he was no longer alone. Shaper Yantan stood next to the opened front doors, the light coming down in long ribbons from the nearby windows.

    Standing there in the light, Jass could see plainly why so many students, both graduate and otherwise, whispered behind the Councilwoman’s back. As Shaper Ulrika demonstrated, long life and vitality did not diminish for the Shapers as quickly as it did for outsiders. Even so, in her mid-thirties Yantan was a model of health and sensuality. Luscious black hair flowed down from her crown on either sides of a rounded face tanned and tightened by the hours of difficult training. Full red lips protruded above a single, sharp chin and below a gently curved nose. Her entire body was a mass of voluptuous curves made all the more prominent from the rigorous regiments of the Agents. Even the most jealous female students had to admit her allure.

    Yet Jass had not been born yesterday. Or at least Uthain had taught him at least one thing about learning the character of men – and women. Though it was an effort for anyone to look up from her curves, he sought out the thing that would tell him the most about this woman. His sky blue eyes found hers and he saw there a cunning intelligence with a depth of knowledge totally at odds with her tender decade and a half on him. They showed the same calm, calculating mind desired so much in Shapers and perhaps somewhere in there he saw the planted seeds of long twilight years of wisdom. It was an awe-inspiring and terrifying sight at the same time, enough for someone on his path to wonder whether they would ever hold a candle to such a one.

    As that thought occurred to Jass, another occurred to him: Why was he so intimidated at this moment? Yantan looked at him from where she stood, a suggestive smile curving her lips, delight in her eyes. The young graduate student fought the urge to shake his head. He was stronger than that, he knew. Walls closed around his mind, shutting out everything until just one thing remained. The smile on Yantan’s face split wider. She walked up to him and cupped his chin with fingers calloused from long hours of swordsmanship as she looked into his eyes.

    “It is a bit early to be contemplating the nature of the universe, young Shaper.” She wrapped a hand around her junior and continued, “Come, tell me what you have been thinking of.”

    For a moment Jass was stunned, his head swimming with the shadows that had lurked in the corners of his mind. Some said that Yantan would have been much better off being an Agent than a Shaper, no matter what her Shaper’s robe said. Certainly she was one of the best spellcasters in the Known World, rivalling and possibly even exceeding Ulrika. The Councilwoman had taken all the courses rumored to be required for the class after all, and maintained her figure through them much better than some aspirants. In spite of this, Yantan maintained that she preferred the “rooted” life of a Shaper to the constant movement of an Agent. Many said that keeping her solutions boiling was not all that made her prefer a position at the Academy.

    Collecting his wits, Jass tried unsuccessfully to keep his voice steady as he replied, “No universe contemplations for me, Councilwoman Yantan; just contemplating the nature of Councilman Praco.” Her laugh drowned out his wonder at his use of the junior Council member’s title. She slapped him hard on the arm and said, “Please, Yantan, Jass, I insist. And it does sound like you have chosen a more difficult topic.” Steering him before her towards the door, she said, “Come, some things are not good to be contemplated in the dark. Let us see what Issei has to offer.” She moved her head near to his so that he could swear that he could feel his cheek fuzz moved by her breath. “And let us see what I can offer you.”

    With a great will, Jass banished visions of what that might mean as she pushed him down the steps of the Grand Academy, making for the front gate. As the stepped out into the rising light he momentarily raised a hand to his face to block out the light that threatened to blind him after long hours of indoors travel. Eventually his vision settled and he looked around.

    Outside, the grand architecture of the Academy rose to meet them, silhouetted against the waxing light of the sun. Some said that it was much larger underground than it was on the surface, a claim that many students, Jass included, had spent a great deal of time trying to verify. Nobody had managed to do so yet. Certainly there always seemed to be builder serviles around hauling what could only be construction materials, though nobody he had ever spoken to confirmed seeing excavation sites within. If the claim was true, the exterior of the campus made the subterranean sections something to stagger the mind.

    Like the indoor sections, the Academy’s exterior was a mass of solid stone that might have been carved from a single piece of stone. Indeed, some claimed that Shaper magic had been used to do just that, sometime in the distant past, molding a lone mountain into the Grand Academy and the Citadel of Issei. Jass doubted this, as the scale of power that would be necessary simply never occurred on the record; aside from the Shattering, of course. In any case, the ground between the Academy and the Citadel had wetland.

    Even at this early hour there was a great deal of activity in the yards. Most of the students were still abed if they had not risen for early classes. Yet out in the yards Agent aspirants ran a series of rigorous exercises under the watchful eye of Councilwoman Ulrika and Agent Irane. Both were as shapely as Yantan, but there was less murmuring about their figures, for their faces were often carved war masks for all the sympathy they showed to the struggling aspirants. Jass had heard that they alternated days of easy work and hard labor during the training process in order to lure keep the students on their toes. Already one had collapsed and was being carried from the fields.

    Nearby Guardian Yuthan was running the melee exercise. The clamber of steel and shouts were deafening when the students clashed. Jass saw some let loose truly savage blows, some moving so fast as to seem a blur. He winced inwardly as he saw one strike put a student onto the ground. Having been on the end of attacks like that, he did not envy the aspirant. Still, he was not concerned. Full Shapers could have reflexes much greater than that, meaning that nobody was in true danger so long as Yuthan was present, no matter how close to death they came.

    Yantan pushed him along past the training fields to the creation stables. Here the formidable guardians of the Academy stood, sat, and curled in their own stalls or in groups. Grim-faced outsider guards were already patrolling the cells, watching over the serviles bringing the morning repasts and checking for rogue creations. The latter was unlikely given the large number of Shapers, but the Council never took chances. A patrol consisting of a vlish and a pack of fyora passed on their way in, their rounds complete. Even their power seemed small in comparison to the battle alphas and glaahks.

    Past the walls of the Academy the pair stepped out onto the road that led to Issei. The Last Road, it was called. A long strip of stone road connected the school to the city. Walking along it, Jass noted that the stone was no longer one piece, but rather regularly segmented slabs. To either side the ground became wet earth covered in beaten grass. Farther out than that, it returned to the swamplands of Machit.

    “So what have you been thinking of Praco lately, dear?” asked Yantan. Jass fairly jumped. Part of him had forgotten the company he kept. He didn’t now. The beautiful Councilwoman gazed down at him, that slight smile on her face. He remembered what she had said, but his training rebelled against it. So he settled with, “He seems distracted.” For a moment he considered that he shouldn’t say more, but he told the story anyways.

    “Hmm,” she considered, “so it would seem that he has found a comfortable book to put his head down on.” She laughed and Jass felt a bit foolish for saying anything more. Yantan was well known for being one of the less strict Councilmembers. While she wouldn’t let things go when they came to her attention, seeking out problems to solve was not her way. As her mirth subsided she said, “He hasn’t changed a bit from our undergraduate days.”

    Jass had nothing to say to that. It was not unusual for outsiders to presume that the Shapers were an utterly unified force. They were, but only on the face. Beneath it all there were factions and of the past years since the Academy was founded one of the most powerful was loyalty to those in their graduating year. Yantan had it, clearly. Praco though, he was not so sure. What was certain was that Praco wouldn’t have been a Councilman if not for Jass’ father, though nobody would say it to the Head Councilman’s face. By the same token, Yantan would never have become Councilwoman without Praco rising so far.

    They traveled in silence then, both lost in their own thoughts, though judging by the appraising looks that the woman gave Jass, they were not thinking about the same thing. At last they arrived at one of the iron portcullis gatehouses that led the way into Issei. Like the walls of the Academy, these were well armed and protected with turrets, creations, and outsider guards.

    As they stepped into the walled city of Issei, Jass could not help but glance up at the Citadel. He shivered. The great shadow of the structure stretched long in the early hours, enveloping entire blocks in darkness. Seemingly carved from the same stone as the Academy, the Citadel was precious less formidable and no less a symbol of Shaper power. In fact, one could argue that it was more so. Though both were strongly built in a utilitarian fashion, their functions were staggeringly different. The Academy was a place of learning and enlightenment. It was dangerous, to be sure, as much so to those inside as those without, yet it was a place of promise and dreams. The Citadel was a place of menace. It projected all the strength of the Shapers and their craft with none of the humility that something like a pair of vat gloves showed. The Citadel was meant to make the Shapers feared and it did that well.

    Even so, in the shadow of the Citadel grew the greatest city in the Known World, perhaps greater than any city ever ruled by the Shapers. Issei was the first of its kind, a new generation of cities built by the magic of the Shapers and the hands of serviles. It echoed the old glories of the Shapers with its wide stone streets bustling with people among its stoutly built structures. As Jass and Yantan strode into its streets, the air became filled with the smells of a human city managed by Shapers and the frightful din that only humans could make.

    Slowing her pace, Yantan threw an arm around Jass’ shoulders that made him jump. She at him, revealing pearly teeth, as she drew him closer to her robed person. A moment later the reason became clear. They were in the third tier now. They had passed through the second quickly, the defenses stout, but overshadowed – literally in some cases – by the grandeur of the Citadel. The first tier did not exist between the Academy and Issei; it was too dangerous.
    Now they were surrounded by inns, taverns, and pleasure houses. Such was the way of the rude quarters, as they were called by some of the more stiff citizens of the city. Of course, those were usually the ones who could afford to hold their business elsewhere.

    As he walked down the road, Jass kept an eye on the people. They came from all over the Known World. Some were wide-eyed children on their first time in the city. Others were grizzled caravan guards who protected merchants on their way to places less patrolled by Shaper creations. Creation patrols lumbered through the streets, space being made for their passage by all but the most drunk of residents who had not the wits to move out of the way. Street women called their services to him from the fronts of seedy establishments, making him fight to keep his face from coloring while Yantan smiled at his discomfort.

    There were even students here, though Jass knew that none of them were declared Shaper aspirants as he was. They walked slightly bow-legged where they were not drunk. The Shapers prided themselves on appearing perfect to outsiders at all time; if these unfortunates ever thought to become one, they might as well pray that the gods make everyone forget their faces; else the Shapers would turn them away. It was part of the reason that few aspirants could be found here at night and even fewer in the morning. Sharing a mug was all well and good, but it came with its share of dangers and consequences.

    The Shaper Councilwoman drew him to the side of the road, still smiling that amused smile and said, “Have you broke your fast this day?” A glimmer of amusement added to that which already existed at her words. It seemed she found nothing that was not amusing. He had already told his story though and knew that it would only amuse her more to say it, so he just shook his head. Her smile seemed to widen, her eyes twinkling. “Ok, then I know a good place for fish stew.” Before he could say anything, she drew him off again.

    As it turned out, the establishment she spoke of was exactly where people would not expect to find a Councilwoman and a Shaper aspirant, especially at such an early hour. Yet he was not surprised that the seedy-looking establishment, with its unwashed windows and musty interior, was exactly where she had intended to take him. The timber roof was almost certainly out of regulations and the door was held by rusted hinges badly in need of changing. If not for the wide grin that the balding owner gave Yantan when they stepped inside, Jass might have been surprised that he was not sweating thorns with so much Shaper authority coming through his rotting door.

    In truth none of this surprised him. Machit was swamplands. Ordinarily they would not be habitable, not on the scale that Issei allowed. The constantly damp air of the marshes made lungs breeding places for all kinds of illnesses while the plants were generally poisonous in one way or another. Even if rogues did not wander the spans between settlements there were already a thousand ways for a man to die. The moisture bred rot in any wood and rusted metal. If not for Shaper magic it would be impossible to practice meaningful agriculture on the cleared spans of land, given the poor soil. And two centuries ago, that may not have been possible even with Shaper magic.

    A sudden clamber caught Jass’ attention, bringing him out of his reverie. He was now seated at one of the tables. Looking around, he could not locate the source of the sounds, but they grew louder. Inhuman screaming and pleading and the sound of a man’s slurred shouts.

    Eventually his eyes were drawn to one side of the room where the stairs to the upper level led. Tumbling down it was a small, hunched figure in a brown roughspun robe that covered most of it. In spite of this the graduate did not have to glimpse the elongated nose that protruded from under the hood to know that it was a servile. No matter where the faithful servants of the Shapers went, no matter what they did, it seemed that they always wore the same thing.

    Created by the Shapers, they were perhaps the crowning achievement among all other things that the Shapers had made. And so, of course, that also made them potentially the most dangerous. It had proven so during the Rebellion. In that terrible past war the serviles had rose up against their rightful masters and fought a vicious and, in any sane man’s opinion, hopeless war against the might of Shaper rule. Or it would have been if not for the thrice-damned drayks. Since then, any Shaper one met preached caution about the seemingly placid creatures.

    Yet looking at the scene unfolding, now at the steps of the stairs, Jass could hardly believe even the dire warnings of the Council about such creatures. Bred to handle labor that was too dangerous or simply beneath Shapers – and to a lesser extent, outsiders – this servile was not unlike the rest of its kind in Issei. Now curled on the floor, it was stammering apologies and pleading for its life in mindless terror to the violence that was being inflicted upon it. A moment later, the source of the abuse became visible.

    He was not a Shaper. That much was obvious before he even stepped into view. His stink preceded his heavy boots down the last of the stairs which were themselves robbed of the honor of first entrance by this protruding, unwashed belly. The man stunk of cheap beer and, looking into his heavy-set, fatty face, Jass saw a mixture of rage and alcohol in his eyes. Spittle dripped from his partially open mouth as two other men of similar girth stepped into the room.
    In truth, Jass couldn’t tell what the man was angry about. His rambling speech protested something about a dirty room and obstructing his path as he repeatedly kicked the prone creature. The owner of the establishment appeared for a moment at the edge of the graduate’s field of view and disappeared just as quickly while the servile wailed in pain. None of the other patrons rose from their seats or said anything.

    Standing from his seat, Jass crossed to the confrontation and slid in between the man and the creation without a word, letting his eyes say everything as they met the man’s. Dressed as he was in the clothes of Academy students, Jass was nothing abnormal in the rude quarters where many students came to blow off steam. Still, even if the outsider knew that the shorter man before him was unlikely to be a Shaper, a glint of fear entered his eyes for a moment. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that only goaded him into greater rage.

    In the brief moment before the inevitable storm, Jass stole a glance over to Councilwoman Yantan, who was still seated at their table. Far from being oblivious, she was watching closely, but the set of her shoulders said that she was not planning on doing anything. There was unlikely to be any help from that quarter then.

    Surprisingly, the brute attempted words before violence. Sputtering his rage, he managed to speak. “Get out of my way, boy. This don’t concern you. This is between me and that bitch.” Blinking at the words, Jass stole a glance down at the servile. It was indeed female, though it was difficult to say for most people. The outsider must have been here a while to know the difference. Turning back to the man, Jass replied, trying to keep his voice official and civilized. “This servile is property of the Shapers. It belongs to us. We have placed it in the custodianship of the proprietor of this establishment. If you are displeased with its performance, then you can appeal to either of those groups. But you are not permitted to met out your own brand of punishment, no matter the provocation.

    The man backed up, obviously surprised that Jass was standing his ground on the matter. Still, in his drunken state he probably missed the underlying threat in the response. Shoving a finger towards the servile he complained. “I told you, it isn’t your business. We can do whatever we want with these things. They are made to serve us. Now back off.”
    Inwardly Jass felt slightly sick. The sentiment before him was one held by many outsiders, incorrectly. Many a time he had seen or heard of Shapers being dispatched to handle domestic incidents when custodians of serviles abused their power over the creatures. It never ended well. It was true that many Shapers shared the same views, but that was a different group of people who used a different set of rules. He shook his head and said, “No. You have no right to treat her in this way. Now back away before I do something about this.”

    Instantly, the graduate knew that he had said the wrong thing, even if it was technically correct. Behind the brutish eyes of the man and his friends, he could see them working out the threat in front of him. The two apes grinned to one another and stepped back, the room they gave added to as nearby patrons backed up. All expected carnage to ensue, but only the ones that had already been in the dining room knew which way it was going: they knew or at least suspected what Jass was. The trio of men were too drunk to understand their folly.

    The nameless giant started it, backing up and swinging a ham-sized fist. By all rights, it should have ended there with Jass on the floor with a broken nose and shattered pride. The man was at least three inches taller and fifty pounds heavier. His belly may be fattened on beer, but his arms were corded with muscles. And he was fast for someone his size, moving with a speed at odds with his girth.

    However, his opponent was no puffed-up merchant’s son who had left his guards at home on a dare from his friend who sat at a nearby table with a tavern wench he was trying to impress. Jass was a Shaper. Well, he had not yet taken his oath, but his training was drawing to a close and many secrets that would frighten lesser men and training that would break weaker beings were behind him. His Shaper training gave him not just a strong sense of law and duty and order, but also power and the knowledge to use it. He could sense a creation at a half league and tell whether it was rogue. He could calm creations and command them with just his mind. He could absorb lore at a pace which made all others seem slow.

    Jass was more than just a Shaper though. He was an acolyte, an aspirant, of the Guardian sect, the mailed fist of the Shapers. The graduate had trained in the deadly arts of mortal combat even more than the shadowy Agents. Reflexes and strength that surpassed mortal men would be his to command at any moment. When war came to the Shapers it was the Guardians who raised the mighty spearheads to bring low the foe.

    Of course, none of this forgave pointless extravagance in combat. Ducking low to dodge the fist, Jass moved behind the large man. A free arm swept out as the outsider turned to face him, accompanied by blazing eyes. The light in them would have scared most of the other patrons if they had seen them, but Jass allowed no time for that. Lashing out, he struck the man in the throat. A thick, fluid gurgling sound issued from the man’s mouth as he clutched his ruined apple with both hands, his strength suddenly fled to nothing as he sank to the ground.

    There was no time to savor the victory as heavy hands fell on Jass’ shoulders and spun him around. He had only a moment to pull back before a fist no smaller than the one he had just evaded flattened his face. As it was, the blow graze him and put him down atop the struggling form of the man that he had incapacitated. A moment later he rolled, avoiding a booted foot that would have struck the fork of his legs. Instead, it broke the fallen man’s ribs. As he rose to his feet one of the brutes grabbed the front of his robes and lifted him, raising another fist in the process.

    Just as Jass was contemplating his next move, a shadow fell on him and his opponent. Both of them turned, Jass already feeling what it was that stood over them. Towering over the melee, the newcomer was painted blue and striped red across bald skin that was only covered by a single loincloth around the midsection. A head that brushed the establishment’s ceiling held eyes black as night which themselves held no sympathy. Rough lips pulled back to reveal sharpened teeth. Yet Jass knew that its awesome muscles were its choice weapon.

    The man had lifted Jass, but he was struggling with the weight, for the graduate’s tonnage was corded muscle and heavy bone. It allowed only enough time for a fast punch, not a long lifting. The man had waited too long, now frozen in his fear of what stood before him. When the creature grabbed him by his jacket and lifted him with hand, he let go of Jass a moment before it sent him flying across the room to slam into the back wall. Bones crunched.
    Rising to his feet, Jass watched as the creation loomed over the last man, menace painted on its features. It knocked him to the ground and Jass straightened his jerkin as the man screamed for mercy under a flurry of bone-breaking blows. His screams did not last long and silence fell.

    “Now what is going on here?” demanded a haughty voice. Jass turned to see the familiar dark robes of a Shaper striding into the room. In the light of the candles the graduate picked out the smooth, bald features of a Shaper he had seen, but did not know personally. That was no surprise. Though it was well known that Shaper Thorin and Uthain had a child, not all made the effort to pursue better politics through that route and Jass had never thought to seek them out. As the Battle Beta whirled around at the irritation in its master’s voice, the graduate suddenly wished he had. Seeing Jass, the man pointed and said, “You, student, what happened here?”

    The question was no surprise. Though he was not a full Shaper, Jass still eluded the aura of one who could Shape, even if they never had. It made it possible for a Shaper to be distinguished from outsiders, even if they did not wear the garments of the sects. And being a Shaper, Jass was expected to always be on the better end of things. As it just so happened in this case, he was. And he told the nameless Shaper so.

    Each word of the story seemed to cause the Shaper to swing like a pendulum, from one side to the other. No emotion was considered best when surrounded by outsiders, even if most had already fled when the patrol had arrived, opting to run the gauntlet of glaahk and roamers than stay in the room with angry Shapers. Anger was one emotion that was tolerated from Shapers, as it added to the aura of fear and mystery that surrounded them, a surer defense against their enemies than a thousand creations.

    Still, the man obviously fumed more over the incident than was normal. Had they been alone, the man might have shouted about telling the Council and getting Jass expelled. Yet with the outsiders watching and Yantan sitting on the sidelines, he would not openly issue accusations, not even with two dead and one seriously wounded civilians on his watch. Angry he might be, but he was not politically blind. Jass saw as much and was sickened by it.

    Somewhere in the middle of it all, the servile plucked up the courage to speak. As she bowed to the two, Jass could see that she was in pain. She probably had broken bones, a fact that would infuriate whichever minder she was looked after by. The Shapers may vary in their opinion of how serviles should serve, but they also appreciated how complicated it was to make one. This forced Shapers to create the serviles so that they could mate, saving the effort of Shaping them. This was rare, as most creations were made sterile so they could not spread if they went rogue.
    “Thank you masters,” she said, “I – I am Greta. How might I serve you?”

    The Shaper looked suitably annoyed by this interruption. He clearly had no interest in the creation; he probably thought that it could tell him nothing useful. Still, he held his tongue when Yantan walked up and turned the servile around. It flinched at her touch.

    “Oh, poor thing!” she said, the delight in her eyes absent, replaced by an unreadable expression. “Come over here and let me check if you need to be Healed.” Ignoring the stammers of the servile about not troubling her, the creature allowed herself to be led off. The Shaper cast a strange look at Jass, but was less inclined to say anything more with a Councilmember so close at hand. Huffing, he prompted Jass to finish his story.

    Half an hour later Jass found himself striding through the streets of Issei again, Yantan at his side and a bowl of hot fish stew in his hand. Though he had little appetite after viewing what remained of the second man, the woman had insisted that he take it. For his own part, the owner had heavily suggested that the graduate never return, though he did not say as much. Even as they left, the unnamed Shaper already gone, serviles under the keen eyes of the outsiders in the City Watch arrived to clean up the mess. There would be no further investigation, though a report would be filed with the Council. The lives of three outsiders violating Shaper Law was simply not worth the effort.

    He felt Yantan drape an arm across his shoulders. “What are you thinking about?”

    “I was just thinking about the way in which we count the lives of Shapers and outsiders and creations,” he replied, adding before he could stop himself, “It seems to me sometimes that we concern ourselves too much with... ourselves.”

    She laughed, though he thought it held less mirth than it sounded. “Are you talking about Edwin’s blatant politics? Are you displeased that you escaped Shaper justice just because I was with you? Perhaps you wanted to be punished for not leaving the matter to the patrols?”

    “No,” he said slowly, slowing his thoughts where others would have stammered and dug themselves deeper, “but it was his duty to see Shaper Law done justice and he didn’t seem to do that. I think it bears questioning.”

    “Perhaps it does,” said Yantan, withdrawing her arm to cover a yawn with her hand. “But mind that you don’t inspect Shaper Law too quickly, my little friend. You might not like what you see. Now where you off to, now that our fast is more or less broken?”

    Looking up with a slightly sour face over his covered bowl of stew, Jass replied, “I have to return to the Academy now. My father has given me command of one of the last groups to head out, if I am going out at all. I have had their instructors summon them to one of the empty classrooms where we will plan our journey. Some will come; others might meet us when we set out. At least, that is what I hope.”

    The Councilwoman nodded thoughtfully. “Well, then, I leave you here. I have errands of my own to run in the city. But leave some time for me in your busy day, if you can make it. I have something for you, before you go.” Her eyes twinkled and she laughed him off.
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    In father’s chambers Kira stared at the silver rimmed oblong mirror fastened to the stone wall. She was looking for what the others saw in her, the same question that had been following her for several years now. In the reflection, over her right shoulder was her remaining parent figure and the only family she had left. In the Grand Academy the adults were to all be a part of her family. But, there was a family and there was family. They shared some features: the olive tone of skin, the tall face, and jet black hair, though the eyes were something that came from nowhere.

    Her eyes stared back at the reflection’s, this alien feature her mother never had, her father never had, no one ever had. They were the center of many troubles, repeating troubles. Her eyes leashed self-confusion, an interposal beast bound to chase her.

    “You’re distracted” Shaper Thurman’s voice pulled at her, sparing her from the thoughts. A turn of her head, a fluff of wavy hair that shifted along with her body and the Shaper was in her eyesight. He leaned forward, heavily on his desk against the wall adjacent to her. “You know our time has become limited, finish your checkup”

    Pursing her lips Kira flexed her arm just so, letting blood drip out from the crevice of forearm and bicep into the half-filled vial. The knife sting had become forgotten, remembered now and quickly dismissed. Shaper Thurman smiled as he received the vial. Truthfully, Kira was timid of the task she was going to undertake. The challenge of a lifetime, a touch she took up at the behest of her father. Silken cloth laid down at her self-inflected wound, the small cut finding familiarity among the miniature scars embedded nearby. Their count slowly climbed, more so with the tragic passing of her mother’s death. At least, this as the reason she swore to confess should she be investigated, though none had. As with Kira’s peers, the adults, the Grand Academy family, kept distant.

    Kira’s teeth clattered together till she composed herself to speak.

    “Today is the day” The girl had known a few acquaintances, peers had been semi familiar with, but they had already departed for the great challenge. Her leader was going to be another student who was a child of Shaper blood. Thanic’s heritage and personal skill made him a male that had entered her fantasies a time or two. In those fantasies she slipped into his skin, explored what it must have been like to be the son of prestigious Shapers, with his own prestigious reputation. Kira adored a man like Thanic because he wasn’t the outcast, him or his parents. Kira had heard the harsh whispers passed among the adults: an accident claimed his wife’s life and they hate him for it. Mom died because a Shaper beast had been reckless and the Grand Academy decided to hate her father and keep her away from him. Time had to be permitted to see him, she was supposed to say goodbye last night. Was it wrong for a daughter to want to see her father one last time?

    Shaper Thurman rubbed the side of Kira’s neck.

    “Yes, and you will return to me” The girl curled her foot, shifting her shoulders for no particular reason.

    “What will you do while I’m gone?” The dilated golden eyes intently watched him lean back in his wooden chair, smirking.

    “As all Shapers do, study” The vial of her blood was lightly twirled, the contents moving with the rapid shifts of gravity. Kira’s left hand copied her father’s gesture spontaneously. “You’re a healthy young girl, and you are faster” His tone of voice never changed, he always spoke as if all he said was fact. “You will live” The silk cloth was pulled, the wound scabbed over.

    “I will live and I will return to you, I promise” She held to her father, leaning over an arm of the chair to embrace him.

    “Leave, you cannot be here any longer” Though Kira wanted to hold him, she had already begun to pull away, dropping her arms down to her side and standing straight.

    “Goodbye” Kira’s voice suddenly dry, not fumbling to find its place. She left, walking swiftly through stone halls so she could grab her bagged gear and meet Thanic Jass. Her golden gaze glossed over while she thought of her life’s direction.
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    Jade stared at her reflection in the mirror. Stared at the scars that marred her face. One gloved hand raising up to touch them lightly. Even after these past eight years, she still wasn't used to them. She still hated the scars with every inch of herself. The Shapers had come after the fire, but had deemed what had happened to her, the scars, the injuries to be punishment enough for her and her mother's folly.

    At ten, Jade had been ready to go to the Academy to start to learn, even after the accident, but she'd stayed home for another two years. For her mother's sake more than anything else. So that she'd stop blaming herself. By the time she was twelve though she couldn't wait any longer. Now, she was nearly finished with the basics of her studies. She was a Shaper aspirant and it was the one thing that she wanted more than anything. She'd nearly lost her life in the fire and now she knew more than most how fleeting it was. She wanted to create, to build, to shape life.

    Throwing her veil into her bag, she decided to forgo it for now, while it made her less self-conscious of her scars it also made her feel like she stood out more. However, that wasn't something that she really wanted to deal with today. Making sure her hair was in place, she headed out of her room, locking the door behind her. As she walked through the academy buildings to the room she was supposed to be meeting her group and their leader in. As she walked, she noticed a few of the students following her with their gaze and then the whispers behind their hands. It was mostly the newer students who talked the most, but everyone knew the story or learned of it at some point. The cautionary tale for anyone who tried to step further than they were allowed.

    By now, Jade was used to the whispers and the stares and today they barely bothered her at all. Stepping into the classroom, she saw she was the first one there. Sliding into an empty seat, she waited for the rest of her group to arrive.

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    The sour feeling that Jass had over the incident in the stew place was still rolling around his mind as he emerged from his quarters. He had taken the stew there to eat alone. After the incident he had no mood to be in company, even if the mess hall would have been far more convenient. Even as he had sat down at his desk though, he had cursed himself. There would have been people in the Academy mess that would have wanted to see him and he wasn’t there.

    At issue was, of course, the Shaper challenge. Everyone in the current year that was set to graduate was watching with twitching eyelids. People vanished daily, their groups either setting out with great fanfare or simply going in the dead of night. At times it seemed that every other sentence uttered was the same question: when are you going? Those who decided not to participate were rapidly becoming loners when they did not cave and join a group at the last minute. While there was no true set departure time requirement, with most people gone already it was agreed that if you did not leave within the next fortnight, your courage would collapse and you wouldn’t leave at all. Now all that remained of those eligible to participate were those staying and the leftovers.

    Some people never intended to go; others were pressured into it. Then there were the loners; the outcasts who wanted to participate, to pursue their own share of the glory, but could not find a group. Certainly there were rumors of individuals striking out on their own, determined to bring something back that would force the Council to accept their successes. There were also false groups; groups formed solely for the purpose of circumventing the Council’s edict that would break up once they were beyond the Council’s eyes. However, it was agreed that none of these would last long. A full Shaper might be able to survive on their own, but lesser beings never would. For this reason, there are the outcasts who can’t find their own group for whatever reason.

    Jass walked down the hallway, barely registering the students who thronged it. While the current graduating class was thinning rapidly, there were always the graduates who had not qualified to go and the classes below who couldn’t go. Nevertheless, the crowd was not half as thick as it should have been at that hour.

    As he walked to the classroom to meet with the others, Jass reflected on his own fate. It was well known that he had been given charge of the leftovers; Yantan had only been teasing, the Council was well aware of his plans. Or his father’s plans, they should be called. The Head Councilman had given him the task personally without even summoning him to a formal assignment; he had just told it to him over dinner one night not long past. The graduate wasn’t sure whether he was upset by this. He hadn’t been sure whether he was going at all.

    Still, being close to the Council did have its benefits. As all the groups had to register their names and members, his father had kept him apprised of all of the students who remained. Neither of them could be certain who would show up; the meeting was to be public. Still, every day it became a shorter and shorter list. And some had caught Jass’ eyes, leading to questions about them. Of course, none of this was written down; knowledge was power and the Shapers guarded it zealously.

    Kira and Jade. Jass knew them both by reputation. Kira was rumored to be the bastard product of illicit Shaping. Her mother was dead and the blame laid at the feet of another Shaper, but though the Council held the Shaper in question responsible, they could not entirely shake the rumors that it had been orchestrated by another. Her father was disgraced for her birth and for the accident, leading to a fall from grace. He clung to her and some sympathized, but her instructors routinely complained that he interfered in their training exercises for his own gain. And the Council responded by coming down on him for it. By all rights she was a remarkable girl in many ways, but the ghosts of her past would come back for her. There was some relief among the Shapers that she was going on this journey. Perhaps, they said, it would break his grip on her. At the very least they might be able to do something about him while she was away.

    Jade was a more straightforward problem than Kira. Her family had not been punished unduly for their violation of Shaper Law in teaching her magic outside of the Academy, or near enough as not to make a difference. However, it made the shame no less. Many lamented that there was no reason for it to have happened at all; she could have learned at the Academy where it would have been safe.

    There were two others that Jass thought might come later, but such musings were pointless as he stepped into the classroom. Only Jade was there.
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    Kira followed through with her father's command and directed herself into the classroom without hesitation and glossed over eyes. Her emotions were not a part of her bodily movements. Inside the doorway of the classroom Kira had quickly regained a lightened self of self, the fog of oppression lifting. Instead it filled the door, warding her from leaving until she had becoming united with her group.

    The fifteen year old scanned over the blonde, a girl whose name was whispered to be Jade. She bared her teeth at her in uncertainty, turning that overpowering gaze onto Tancin Jass. The fingers she had left gripped tightly to the straps of her pack.

    "Hi..." It dripped out gracelessly, her eyes held wide when she stared at him, in his much taller fascination. Her eyes enjoyed the strong shape of his body, the broad shoulders holding up the Shaper robes displayed power. Kira pulled her look away, disciplining herself, repeating the cycle of shaming she earned from her years of social mishaps. "Hi, hello"
    Last edited by Minkasha; 06-20-2015 at 07:20 AM.
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    Jade didn't have to wait long before first Jass and then another student, Kira if she remembered right. Kira smiled at her, or at least Jade was choosing to interpret the look as a smile, but either the girl was insanely nervous or had about as much social skills as Jade extruded. It was then Jade began to put two and two together. She'd watched as her classmates had bound together forming groups and leaving out on their journeys. Kira, herself, they were the few left who'd not been asked to join a group because they didn't fit well with the other students. They were the leftovers, the outcasts, the unwanted. Jade had to wonder how the councilman's son had managed to get assigned to this small, haphazard band of misfits.

    "Hello." Jade replied politely from her chair though not standing. Her leg was acting up today. It was sore and itched. Not exactly the best way to start a journey that no doubt would involve a lot of walking. "I'm Jade." She figured it was probably worth introducing herself, better to assume that they didn't know who she was then to assume that they did, even if her experience told her otherwise.

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    Having entered the classroom, Jass moved past the girl who, by description, he knew to be Jade. None of the reports had said that, in spite of her burns, the girl was a looker. He dismissed the thought while his back was to her and smoothed his face. When he turned, there was a long student table between them and another student had joined them. As opposed to Jade, Jass had seen Kira before. His father had once pointed her out in the hallways as one to watch. Whether she knew it or not, the whole of the Council marked her as such for her parentage. She was a looker too, in her own way. He gave a friendly smile as they stammered their greetings, though it was a bit rueful in his mind. If they were anybody else then they might have found a nice group to be in. Alas, they were who they were and that made all the difference.

    "Welcome," he said, for all the world sounding to himself like he had been in the room first, "For the sake of introductions, I will say this: I am Tancin Jass, son of Shaper Uthain, Head Councilman of the Shapers of Issei and the Known World, and Shaper Thorin, former Head Councilwoman of the Shapers of Issei and the Known World and founder of the Known World." He let that lie for a while, wondering whether he should press on or wait for Kira to introduce herself. He decided on the former.

    "I suppose that we should proceed with the purpose of this meeting; names will come later. If you are here and know what you are doing here, then it means this: You are here because you intend to accept the challenge laid out by the Council which will see you a Shaper if you succeed." For some reason the corner of his mouth twitched at this. It may have occurred to him that, if he had not been Uthain's son then he wouldn't have to go out on this at all - his Shaperhood was almost assured, or at least as much as any could make it. He dismissed the thought as unworthy. That which is given has no value. "Your task is thus the same as every other contender for this prize - and there are other contenders, for this prize will not be for everyone, even if they survive, for your accomplishments will make your worthiness - you are to head out beyond the borders of the Known World and bring back things of value for the Council."

    He paused, to let that sink in. "You will not know exactly what the bar set is, nor when you have passed it, if you do. But you will not be alone. You need to be in a group and that is why you are here. I have been assigned the task of heading up those who wish to participate but... cannot find themselves a group. I put out notices for this meeting and that is why you are here. We are gathered here today to lay down the plans for our departure. There may be others who join us later. Today though, we will decide what advanced provisions we will bring with us and what side of the border we will exit from."

    Reaching into a pocket, Jass produced another boon of the Council: a map of the Known World. At least, what they were allowed to have. The Council did not distribute it to all groups because it was decreed that they had to have the ingenuity to ask. Some were dumb and didn't. Jass was smarter, he asked. Laying it out on the table so that it could easily be read by his compatriots, he continued, "We will also spend however many days of the next fortnight that we need to procure anything which we require for this assignment and tie up loose ends until we return. If you intend to consult anyone remaining here or take last-minute lessons to hone your skills, this will be the time for it. No matter what day we choose to depart, which I expect will be affected by the weather, I will leave without you if you do not turn up on time."

    Looking up from the map, he studied the two girls' faces and awaited their responses.
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    Tancin’s presence kept Kira quiet, fingers of her right hand slowly curling and uncurling as he spoke. Her ears tuned in on his words, eyes flicked around to his features: to his brows when his face emoted his speech, his larger hands when they moved into his pocket, and gestured, the edges of her vision blurring to sharpen what nipped at her attention. When his sky blue eyes looked down in her direction the pricking feeling of inadequacy popped her observational trance.

    A fidgeting saccade of her eyes to the map quickly reminded her she knew nothing of the outside world. Her toes curled and the olive skinned teenager pursed her lips. She smiled, a dimpled expression made awkward by her silent pause till she spoke.

    “How many rations will we carry?” Kira looked at Jade when she asked. Not blinking, waiting.
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    As Kira stared at her, Jade couldn't help but self-consciously reach up and touch at her hair to make sure that it was covering the scars of her face. She adverted her gaze down to the table and the map. There was no time like the present to get started really. Being a shaper, was what she'd worked for and if it took completing this trip, with breaking out from her safe zone of seclusion, then that's what she'd have to do. She took a deep breath before starting to speak.

    "Without knowing how long we'll be out there it's hard to estimate how much we'd truly, but two weeks worth of dried rations would be a good start and we could supplement or food with edible plants that grow in the swamps and with animals that we can hunt." She said to answer Kira's question. As to which direction to go, she couldn't make a well informed decision about which would be the best way to exit. The only town she knew of was Yuushin and she didn't want to go back there, at least not yet. She had decided not to take classes on Geography and History of Machit or the Known World in favor of classes that she thought would help her in becoming a Shaper. Gazing at the map, she finally continued, pointing on the map. "Again based on what we know about this journey, which is little, I would maybe suggest going through Tarin and then to the Barrier. It's the closest to Issei meaning we will use less of our supplies between when we leave and exiting the Barrier. Though there will probably be an opportunity to resupply in Tarin."

    Jade's suggestions were passed solely off looking at the map, but she tried to make herself sound confident. She didn't want to make a fool of herself before they'd even begun the journey, but she was glad for the fact that her hair could easily hide her face. One look and it would be obvious how nervous, she was at the moment.

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    Jass listened quietly to the two girls. He waited for Jade to finish, then said,
    "It isn't a question of how many will we carry, but how much we can carry. Even if we set out from one of the Barrier's outposts - which I fully intend to do if we get the chance - our rations will last us no more than a fortnight, less if we go on foot. Make no mistake, we will be bringing everything that we can carry and only what we can carry, unless one of you can afford a pack ornk. Even then, we would inevitably have to resort to foraging."

    He pointed to the map where Tarin was, "Every decision has a consequence. Tarin can certainly supply us with the goods we need once we get there. It is about a week's journey from here to there along a well-maintained and well-patrolled road with halfway houses. Undoubtedly we can obtain basic supplies from the locals, either by coin or promises, but we meet a problem once we reach the village itself. While there are well-developed paths and serviced goods ferries between Issei and Tarin, there are none available for us to use and no canoes for people to purchase unless they are moving goods. That would mean that we would be on foot through the swamp between there and the Barrier, where our actual journey begins. And that is a two week journey, assuming speed and no problems along the way."

    Moving a finger diagonally across the map, he rested it on Assence. "Here is where I suggest we start. Assence is a relatively isolated village, but is also the closest to an exit from the Known World. Issei maintains regular traffic on the waterways to get from here to there and there are canoes we can get to go there. The Council has kindly reserved some for students who wish to take this route. The trade off is that the journey is still two weeks at best and through dangerous territory with few if any halfway houses. However, the payoff is that Assence has repair services and can sell us supplies for moving beyond the Barrier. There is a wide lake of sorts that connects it to other bodies of water in Machit, though it doesn't show on this map because it is beyond the Barrier. Still, people can see it from the Barrier."

    Looking up, he said, "With our numbers we can take two canoes. You two can man one with our essentials while I man the other with auxiliary supplies. Anybody who joins us here will give us access to more canoes. If anyone joins us in Assence, then we can only hope that they bring their own."
    Spoiler: Around the Forum 

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