RP:A Surprise and Unwanted Challenge

Scene: Mages Tower Center

Oriyan, magic teacher for hire, is here.

Ezekiel is here with a clockwork ferret.

Anton is here with a shadow familiar

Ezekiel stood at the edge of a table, mere feet from the barrier protecting those outside from the spells being cast inside. Laying open on the table was his tome, wide open and facing the mage who seemed hardly interested in what it's pages held, but more in the mechanical prosthetic acting as his left arm. He'd completed it in Frostmaw, but only now found the time to study and practice controlling it. It was with his own magic he filled the limb and took control; had he not learned to control his brand prior to this project, it might have very well been useless. Little by little he curls each finger and focuses intently on making a balled fist.

Anton ascends up the final set of stairs, accomplished by what appears to be a dog made of shadow, it had not been long ago that he had been a student here in this tower before switching his focus. The various writings, and posters on the walls brought back a sense of nostalgia. Though the task at hand reverts him back to the present, and it is with this task that he is reminded why he is here. Rumor had it that the mage he sought out was in the tower and so he thought best to check it out. It is then that he lays eyes upon the male at the table. “Ezekiel?” he asks in the same tone that a reporter or detective might use. The dog slithers away and fades into the shadows as it weaves in and around

Ezekiel rolled each finger back and forth, curling them in and out like an invisible coin were flipping against his knuckles. It felt strange, even thought it were made up of metal, leather and elastic bits of material, he still had some sense of feeling. Whether it were through his magical energy or simply all in his head, it made him smile. He was just about to roll his sleeve back down when he heard his name. “Hm?” The man had gotten use to his name being called in this tower, especially after the name he'd made for himself. He might not have had control over some of the spells he cast, but when he did... “That is correct, good afternoon. What can I do for you?”

Anton inclines his head “Greetings,” at this the masked man says “Queen Satoshi said to seek you out I suppose this test for me, and a pop quiz for you.” A raise of his gloved hand preceded a string of words, a string probably all but unheard of in these halls. From his own body a ghostly green hand shape appears, with an odor matching the scent of a heated orc loin mixed with dwarf vomit. The spectral mimics the hand gesture of the glove . “I assure you this is no threat upon your life, or your gold, only your skills” he says with assurance in his voice “Pencils up...”

Ezekiel simply blinked at the man's request. The ghastly visage of a hand was noticed, but not focused. Had he mentioned anyone's name besides Satoshi's, he might have simply brushed him off with a polite shake of both hand and head. But, because this was his mentor he was speaking of, he was all ears. “A.. A test? A quiz?” He reached back and snapped his tome shut and secured its pages with the complex locking mechanism put in place by himself. “I'm afraid your mistaken, I have no skills to present, none at least that'll be of use to you. I don't think?” Ezekiel wasn't a fighter, simply put. Still, didn't mean he had escaped all challenges before hand.

Anton grins as his list of offensive spells spread through his mind, though keeping true to his assignment “It is not I that requests your skills rather, the one who requests mine as well..” knowing the mages quild more then likely holds eyes and ears in such a place he leaves his explanation at that. A move of his hand forward sends the ghostly hand forward as well index finger pointed and aimed the opposing mage a chain of words probably similar to what some of the secondary students might be studying. Should at any time the finger make “contact” with Ezekiel a sense of Fatigue the longer the contact the stronger the sense of fatigue should to the end extreme being immediate sleep

Ezekiel leaned away from the extended hand and lifted his right in case it came any further. While he wasn't clear what he was needed for in terms of this 'test', what he did know was he didn't plan on sticking around much longer. “Best keep that sort of tricky to the barrier.” His reply is short, curt and unimpressed. It's one thing to ask of a spar, but another to make moves before it's accepted, not to mention, done outside the barrier. He'd reach for his satchel and his tome, both of which were hung around his shoulder from leather straps and he'd move to grab his coat. “I'm afraid I'm no good to you here. If it's a fight you wish, then a fight you've won.” The typically shy mage seemed a little out of his element here.

Anton : The ghostly finger redirects its movement and charges once again toward Ezekiel circling around him at flying at him as if trying to “jab” at him. The spell being spoken forth from the necromancer continues to be chanted in a repeated motion using linking words to keep the spell active should at any time the quick jabs make contact with the mage the spell would take effect, if the attack lands multiple times, the effect would stack. As if following a mental command the necromancers familiar appears from the shadows and moves behind tinkering mage, a stored spell becomes active. A blue aura casts over the outer shadow laced skin of the shifting familiar. Any contact with the shadow familiar would cause a deep chill to the area where contact is made pushing through clothing and other obstructions.

Ezekiel was indeed tapped by that ghostly figure, not once, not twice, but several times instead. The effects, while not felt immediately at first, would gradually weigh his body down. As general fatigue, his shoulders would drop, his feet would drag and above all else, his mind would blur. Who was this man and what was his intent? Clearly he had no respect for the guild, its members and quite possibly its rules. Casting spells outside the barrier was one thing, but to directly attack another student- one with his guard down, and even more, not defending himself was something else. “Enough!” The chill of the familiar was felt and he'd stagger until falling to a knee. He'd lift his right hand up once more while his prosthetic hung limp at his left. Several other mage, both mentor and student alike were interrupted from their studies and their attention set on this display. “I don't know of this test you talk of, but I'll have no part in it. I don't care if Satoshi's issued it or not. You will NOT attack me outside the barrier without my consent, for this is no longer a test, but an assault” His voice rumbled while he staggered to get back to his feet. The room around them was a buzz with activity, murmurs, whispers, gossip.

Anton chuckles a bit and with a wave of his hand, which ironically, is copied by the ghostly projectile the green hand vanishes as well as the ghastly smell. “I should assume this will give the Magister Templi both something to grade us on. See you around Ezekiel” The necromancer places his hands together and spews off a final spell, quickly the shadowy creature joins him by his side and the two seem to be swallowed by a cloud of smoke. As the cloud of smoke fades, so too have the necromancer and familiar.

Ezekiel glanced around at the small half circle of mages and his confidence diminished. Was this really a test, not for his skill, but his reaction? What if it was to see how he'd react when circumstances were so.. regulated? Then again, was offensive magic permitted outside the walls? He'd never seen it, but did that mean it wasn't? He'd limp back towards an empty chair and put his back to the necromancer as he left. The gossip and murmurs only grew in volume until he snapped his head around to silence them with a quiet glare. When he felt he had enough energy, he'd walk back home; he had some letters to write.