RP:A Quest Once Given

Synopsis: Eirik meets Dyraxdiin at the Mages tower in Xalious. From here Eirik asked for a stronger shield. Dyraxdiin gives him a rundown of the options and then offers him the item in exchange for Eiriks services as a warrior. Fair trade, right?

Mage Tower

This room is huge, and the entire place is covered in blue and white marble, with many torches and eight pillars reaching up to the ceiling to reinforce the room above, and keep the tower standing. The columns are covered in mystical runes, probably magic to keep the pillars strong, making them able to withstand pressure that normally wouldn't be possible. In the center of the room, there is a spiraling staircase made of glass, and also inscribed with the same type of runes as the pillars, leading to the higher levels of this magical tower. Next to the stairs there is a small desk here with a sign on it. At the top the sign reads... directions for all new mages. There is a door to the south, and you now notice that it too, is covered in the strength giving runes, that leads outside and a door to the west leading to the dormitory, a place for young mages to rest after their studies here.

Eirik would find himself marching into the mages tower without so much as a second glance. Brann Forbruker strapped to his side and swaying with every step. Silver eyes seem glossed over; lost in thought as the berserker might come into view. He couldn't remember the dragons name. Besides he would most likely botch it anyway. Eirik only remembered that the dragon could be found here. At least that was the detail he could remember. As per usual, the Lycan lies clad in armor. Blackened chainmail sleeves work their way up his arms and weave into a steel fur covered pauldron. Steel greaves start at his boots and die just below the knee; the rest of the man lies clad in silver stitched black leather and cotton drab. A new shield, painted in the runes of his homelands lies strapped to his back. Eventually the scarred Lycan moves to a random acolyte, "Do you know where I might find.." his voice trails off for a moment. "Dyraxdiin." Thats it. Thats the name he couldn't remember.

Dyraxdiin happens to be looking over arcane documents with another mage, their forms hunched over an ornately carved oakwood desk, as if attempting to block out prying eyes. Were one to look, they would see something best described as blueprints, depicting different patterns with formulae etched along the sides. Upon hearing his name, despite the noise here along the lines of a pleasant hum of conversation, Dyraxdiin looks up from the documents in front of him. He inspects the warrior for the briefest of moments, blue eyes to take in the weapon, shield and armor in a sweeping calculated glance. Soon enough, he pushes himself away from the desk and nods to the mage he was working with as he departs from his company. "I am called Dyraxdiin," He announces to Eirik with a certain tone of authority, deep and clear - certain of himself. His gait carries him closer to the warrior, half robes to sway with the motion, and a subtle 'click' of armaments as they shift. "What is it you seek?" He asks when closer to the fellow.

Eirik sweeps his gaze from the acolyte to the man in question. The mage who had mysteriously shown up in venturil and aided his party. It is because of this fact the lycan has shown himself here. The scrolls, and the inner workings of the mages guild were far beyond the northmans interests. Not because he was an unitelligent simpleton, his gifts just lay elsewhere. Focus on what you can do, not what you can't. Eirik lost his gift years ago and never turned back. "Dyraxdiin," his voice having difficulty with the Mages name. "If you recall, we have met once before. In Venturil." He would leave it at that. The foreigner knew this man would be intelligent enough to figure it out for himself. A hand idly reaches up to scratch at his lightly bearded features. "Though we were never properly introduced. I am Eirik." He would offer a hand in an attempt at a hand shake. The spell caster was free to deny such trival things. "I sought you out because I wondered if I might be able to convince you to enchant this shield for me." The Berserker would give an odd smirk before pulling the steel wound wooden shield from his back.

Dyraxdiin nods his head knowingly, recognizing the warrior just as he mentions Venturil. "Yes, I do remember you." He accepts the handshake, returning it in kind. "I am glad to see you have healed from the leg wound. I remember the Healer seemed overly-upset about it." A smirk of his own, now. The shield is regarded casually, before the Wyrm motions with his hand towards a nearby door. "Let us go to my office and we will discuss this shield of yours." The mage bows his head and turns about face, feet to carry him towards the door he indicated previously. With a tap of his finger to neatly stained darkwood, the door swings ajar with an audible click. Magic. Inside the office, one can immediately see bookshelves. Bookshelves on every wall, and where there aren't bookshelves there are tables - most with more books piled on top of them and many more scrolls. A masterwork armoire with glass doors stands resolutely behind a matching richly stained great desk - vials and bottles of varying sizes collected and neatly labeled within. "Place the shield on the desk there," He motions with his hand, "And we can discuss what it is that you need worked into it."

Eirik would smile then, offering the simple pleasantries anyone else would in his shoes. The mage in question was unknown to him, but that didn't really matter. He had already helped the warriors guild once, why wouldn't he help one of its members. Of course, Eirik expected there to be a price of sorts. Though he himself did not have pockets lined with gold. Hopefully the Mage had something else in mind for the trade of skills. The lycan would nod to the acolyte and follow Dyraxdiin, taking careful note of how things operated here. Magic. He nearly snorted at it. Though despite his distaste for such things Dyr is not a witch. Stepping into the office would instantly make the man curious. Books. Books were everywhere. Is that all this man did? The shield in question is placed upon the desk, a fine example of Frostmaws work. The runes had been hand painted by himself, mostly because he wanted a reminder of home. Eiriks accent is different than any other Frostmaw citizen. Dyraxdiin might pick up on this. "I thank you for taking the time to talk with me." After the battle at venturil he had the sudden realization that his choice of protection is seriously underwhelming. "I would like to make that shield more effective. Perhaps help even blocking magic." Eirik is a warrior, and adding more to his description wouldn't be an easy task.

Dyraxdiin glances down to the shield while he listens to Eiriks words. His eyes move over the runes in a casual manner, suspecting them to be some tribal workings - given the fellows odd accent, it isn't a surprise to Dyraxdiin that the runes are unknown to him. "In what manner would you like it enchanted? I can apply runes of magic to it, to increase its durability and deflect or absorb spells. I can imbue its core with the arcane to do the same. I can even appy alchemical solutions to the grain itself and gain similar results." Dyraxdiin touches the shield itself with a hand, to feel the grain, "The best of the three would be to imbue its core. Runes can break, or become scratched, therefore nullyfing their effect - or exploding, if the scratch draws another rune instead. Alchemy can wash away or dry out - blood can also act as a leech, purging it from the grain entirely. Were I to imbue it, it will remain effective until the shield breaks." He recoils his hands, if only to fold both arms over his chest, "Though it is at a high cost." His tone is level, breathing easy, which may indicate that the mage is not lying - simply being straightforward.

Eirik is not put off by the Mages straightforward nature. In fact he found it rather refreshing. Beating around the bush irritated him so. Dyraxdiins explanation is thought over for a few moments before he comes to his final conclusion. Though he enjoyed runes, he didn't want to add to the ones already painted on. He also feared that anything alchemical would wash off in blood and water onto his own skin and interfere with his own berserking ritual. Damnit, this is going to cost me a small fortune. Finally, the Lycan nods. "I appreciate the rundown." Eirik shifts his weight, trying to get more comfortable while standing in the book filled room. "I know it might run me a pretty coin, but I think of the three I would ask for its core to be imbued. The other two might cause some interferance in other ways. Alchemically speaking and aesthetically." Yes. That would be his decision. "About what would something like that cost me?"

Dyraxdiin nods his head upon hearing Eirik's conclusion. "I would agree with your decision. Given the beating you were subjected to in Venturil, or rather the beating your shield took, I would wager imbuing to be the best route." The mage smiles to Eirik, offering a small chuckle at the question of its price, "A months wages? Probably more." The Wyrm shrugs his shoulders, off-handedly suggesting it isn't important, "I have a job for you instead, if you're more keen on that form of trade." The mage turns around and waves his hand towards the armoire; the large glass doors open as if by hand, "I am in need of a specific ingredient." He reaches in and retrieves an empty leather pouch. The glass doors close as he turns around, as if by their own volition. "I would like you to retrieve a mind flayers brain." No small task, flayers are dangerous creatures, found in one of the most dangerous areas in Lithrydel.

Eirik listens to Dyraxdiins fair offer of trade. A small chuckle released at the mages confirmation of a months wages. However, his following words fell right in the Lycans speciality. A mind flayer? He would have to do some research, but such a thing would be possible. He'd make sure of it. The Northman deosn't even bother asking what it is for, that was Dyraxdiins business. "Very well." The Northman would extend a hand to visibly shake on the agreement. "I will return for the shield with brain in hand or not at all." Eirik would be sure to make direct eye contact before turning and leaving the mages office. "Thank you," he simply states while heading out of the doorway. Before long the warriors guild member would be out of the tower; out of sight and out of mind.

Dyraxdiin shakes Eiriks hand as a mutual understanding has been reached. "I wish you safe travels, Eirik of the North." When the warrior leaves, Dyraxdiin would return to his work with the scrolls.