Skype Session 1: Clara de Roelef

While pretending to contemplate the words of Captain Stantiati, I looked around inside “La Scrivania Galeggianti”. I took my time as I did not want the captain to think I was eager to infiltrate "The-guild-we-have-never-heard-of" under the leadership of the notorious Casanova. Rushing into a deal is simply bad negotiating tactics. Anyway, the place was clean and simple with an intense hushed quality due to the fact that everybody here was whispering. Indeed a rather weird restaurant. After a while I could feel the Captain becoming irritated, so I told him that the job sounded dangerous considering the reputation of mr. Casanova – Stantiati nodded like he was aware of the fact. “As payment for your work I have some magical texts”. I told him that I had to see the texts before saying yes to become his rat. The captain agreed and went to fetch them. I waited for an hour while tasting a local dish called "Tortilini" and drinking more coffee. The food and beverashes of Little Tilea is growing on me. When the captain returned with 15 scroll cases, I realised that the magical text was no book, but a collection of very old scrolls – at least 2000 years – describing the lore of air and various magic spells about controlling, creating and summoning air elementals. I was shocked – how had captain Stantiati obtained these valuable texts? It did not matter – the knowledge inside could be mine if I said yes to the job. As a typical Marienburger I told him that I would consider his offer and come back to “La Scrivania Galeggianti” in the coming week after having studied the scrolls. The captain agreed, but warned me not file a claim to the scrolls with the college. It was to be our secret and his garantee that he could trust me. As I returned to the College by boat steared by a tilean friend of the captain, it was very late and I was tired. I contemplated copying the scroll, but soon realised that it was so long, that I would not be able to finish in a week. it seems the captain had also realised this. Otherwise he would probably not have allowed me to leave the scrolls like that. Even so it seemed to me that the captain was taking a serious gamble on me and it felt a little weird.

The next day, I got up early, skipped breakfast and was therefore able to study the scroll a good hour before heading to the “Brush ‘n Gull”. Otherwise everything was routine, Herr Südenwald greeted me at the door and escorted me to Sibo's room, here we started to work straight away. At lunch, Sibo told me that the time had come for me to start lecturing Clara de Roelef in the art of throwing lightning and that she was expecting me tomorrow evening at the mansion of de Roelef in the Oudgeldwijk district. I was not prepared for this. I had only used the art of throwing lightning during my time enchanting gemstones with Sibo at the Brush'n'Gull and as such I eld really inexperienced and unable to teach anything. But Sibo dismissed my concerns, insisting that the customer, Clara de Roelef, was very inexperienced in the ways of magic, so there would be many things I could teach her. Sibo got his way and so when my working day at Sibo’s was over, I cleaned myself up a little and hired a boat to Oudgeldwijk. The mansion of Director de Roelef was amazing with a lot of foreign art. However, the place looked very defensable in an old school kind of way. A servant answered the door and led me inside – I was expecting to be led to the young Miss de Roelef but instead I was introduced to Director de Roelef herself. She was a beautiful middle aged woman with stern eyes clad in rich garments. For some reason she sounded angry with me – she told me that she was expecting me to teach her niece to use the magical gemstones she had bought, but if her niece and heir was hurt in any way during the lectures or if the Curse of Tzeentch occurred in her mansion she would personally punish me and my family in the next 7 generations. I got the feeling that she was serious – so I nodded and said “Yes, master Director de Roelef”. After having led out a lot of steam she lightened up a bid and told me that her niece had a dream of becoming a wizard but if I could talk her out of these stupid dreams she would pay me a thousand Guilders! After the meeting with Director de Roelef I was led to the personal chambers of Clara de Roelef. I was told to enter and a strange sight met my eyes. The room was decorated with a mix of religious and magical art, items and furniture. My magical sense spotted several items that was indeed magical but the most enchanted object in the room was the beautiful young girl that lay seductively on a sofa. She wore a sexy – almost transparent dress and had long curly blond hair. I felt that her blue eyes could see right through me and I felt like my heart was bursting inside my chest.

“So this is how it feels” I thought to myself. Then my eyes caught sight of a strange black raven next to her and some large bone knives that was attached like a claws to her hands. At first I was unable to tell if the knives was fashionable, if they served a defensive purpose and whether I should be worried. I used my inner strength to talk like a Newstaff and not some teenager in love – and introduced myself as Marius van Tasselwijk. Immediately the young girl asserted herself and her will in a way that I found most uncharateristic for her age. She was obviously used to being in charge and was not willing to relenguish power just because I was her teacher. After an awkward introduction, I started to teach Miss de Roelef the art of Throwing Lightning. She turned out to be a bright and dedicated student and we talked about many things besides the art of Throwing Lightning. She seemed very dedicated to her goal of becoming a Newstaff and agued elequantly for the profound difference between power bought and power earned. While we discussed all things magical, her mannerism changed from that of a commanding noble heiress to that of charming young intelligent beautiful woman. It seemed like we were becoming friends, so I asked her about the bone knives she had been wearing earlier and about the raven, who was commenting ones in a while. Miss de Roelef explained that she trained in the arab martial art called Silat Mubai and that the knives was part of that training. She also introduced me to her bodyguard, Hakim, who so far had somehow managed to hide in the shadows of the room out of my sight. Once again she mentioned the difference between power bought and power earned. Remarkedly it seemed Hakim was not getting payed for his services! Anyway, even towards Hakim trust is limited as we spoke latin to avoid being overheard. The raven was introduced a well trained bird, but the commentary seemed strangely in context. At some point, the conversation touched upon the gemstones I have ben enchanting, it turned out that Clara and her aunt, the director, had struck a bargain in which Clara would not hold the aunt to her word in exchange for a magical gemstone dress, which would double as armor and evening gown. The lightening would do as a misile weapon, while armored Silat Mubai would do as melee weapon, besides the gown was a work of art and prestige. The director apparently payed 15000 Guilders for the gown. That evening the questions of Miss de Roelef was virtually endless and I much enjoyed the company, so it was not until midnight that one of the private de Roelef boatmen sailed me back to the College. It is safe to say that that night marked the begining of a new rythm. Every day I would go to enchant gemstones with Sibo while yearning for evening and every evening I would be in heaven teaching Clare de Roelef how to throw lightning and answering her endless stream of questions. After a couple of days, she offered to teach me the art of Silat Mubai, which I happily accepted as an excuse of physical contact. However, I soon learned that physical contact ment me hitting the floor hard and not much else. But hope springs eternal. Already I have assimilated the forms and phrases of high society as I have noticed that Miss de Roelef likes it, when I converse with her in the correct manner.

The next three months was the best in my life! – not because I finished my tedious job with Sibo at the Brush'n'Gull and therefore was able to pay 100 Guilders to the University granting me the right to one more year of education as well as the 10 Guilders to renew my membership of The College. Not because I mastered he Lightning spell so that I may cast it without fatigue and the consequential daily exhaustion of enchanting. Not because I said yes to be Captain Stantiati’s rat and got access to the old magical scrolls. Not because I have made an agreement with Newstaff Tim Heydenmann to teach each other a spells, the spell Lightening for the spell Stench, and in this way have a legitimate way of obtaining my lightning-spell knowledge and thus finally shielding myself again threats on my licens.

No, the reason why those three months were the best in my life was due to fact that I could be close to Clara de Roelef and smell her hair when she was concentrating deeply on the technique of Throwing Lightning and thus not not paying attentention to me or feel har skin when she bested me in unarmed combat. Sweet Ranald – I have never meet a girl like her – so sensual and determined. She has a natural talent for languages and she speaks latin fluently. She has obtained knowledge of magical myths and legends and the history of magic. I have offered her to be her sponsor even though I know her aunt will be mad as the Nine Hells at me – but I feel in my heart I must grant her the access to magical knowledge and it was not really like she gave me a choice anyway. Somehow she knew that my Lightnings skills were rogue. A fact which she with charming reluctance used to push me to sponsor her application to the College. Her College tuition is already payed – but until her interview her identity is a secret and she is only known as Clara.

The reason why the happiness lasted only three months can be summed up in one name: Director de Roelef! Yesterday after working with Sibo, I hailed a boatman to take me to see Miss de Roelef as I do every day, but this day I was once again led to see Director Clotilde de Roelef. In no uncertain terms she said she wanted a writen status and prospect report within the week. The report was to include my strategy for dissuading Miss de Roelef from studying at the College and any relevant observation I might have made in the three months I have been granted audiences with Miss de Roelef. On the positive side, she did mention in passing the Miss de Roelef seemed to be talking less and less about the College, which led the Director to comment that it seemed I was on the way to become a rich man. That evening I was denied access to see Miss de Roelef as it was implicitly assumed that I would return to the College to write my report. As usual one of the private de Roelef boatmen sailed me back to the College. Having missed dinner and not wating to eat at the College, I found my way to the ”Laughing Maiden”, which is a tavern not far from the College, where the Clergy unwind. It is not a particularly festive place, but they serve a decent meal. Now it is a well known truth that poor tidings and misfortune travel in packs. As I was eating a tired looking man joined me at the table. He did not present himself, but told me that Casanova had sent him to tell me that Casanova expected me to work late into the evening together with Sibo tomorrow at the Brush'n'Gull. It was stressed and underlined that the workday was not to end before midnight. I said that I did not know how to accomplish that, but the stranger simply answerd that Casanova had faith in me and that it would be most unwise to disappoint him. The stranger further reminded me that I owed Casanova a debt of gratitude both from hiring me in the first place, but also from giving me the book of Andrian Tempelhof. The comments were said in a tone that ruined the rest of the meal, so I got up and walked away. I am now sitting in my room back at the College, trying to focus on the report to Director de Roelef, but my mind keep thinking about what I should do tomorrow at the Brush'n'Gull.

Email Session 4: Tales of Captain Stantiati

The mornings have become routine. You get up at sun up, eat a hopefully tasteless morning meal at the College, hail a boatman and sail to the Brush and Gull. Once in a rare while you get up early and study a little in the library before leaving for work, but most day you curse the rising sun as it signals an all too early end to your much desired rest. This particular morning life is good however. Perhaps your body is getting used to the magically induced fatigue. Surprisingly there is no morning fog, which causes you to speculate that mana in the swamps is sparser than usual. Profiting from the sunshine, you decide to eat your breakfast in Little Tilea, a part of Marienburg which is famous for it good eating. Also now that Sibo will not give you a raise and there is no way you plan on visiting Casanova, you are contemplating getting involved with the Tileans, especially that unnamed Tilean ex-captain boatman you met a couple of days back, perhaps a little contraband or something similar that will pay for your studies. Internally you smile at the idea, if your teachers could hear your thought they would really be in for a surprise. Instinctively you start counting and watch around you, but no one is staring at you. Good it would be unfortunately if the years of presenting yourself as the good student was wasted due to a misstep like that. Anyway getting a feel for the people may be a good idea. At least that is what you tell yourself as you escape the usual breakfast at the College.
For once you actively seek to hail a Tilean boatman, it is easy enough. You ask him to take you to a nice little Tilean restaurant, where you can eat breakfast in peace with a view of the Tilean quarters. The boatman lights up in a smile saying with a strong accent: ”I will take you to my family’s restaurant. It is the best place in Marienburg to eat breakfast on such a beautiful morning. I am going there myself. Just you wait till you have tasted my grandmothers cooking it is fabulous”. The last sentence is said with a proud and broad gesture and a telling look from under his considerable eyebrows. From his dark lines under the eyes, it is obviously the man has worked all night. You have heard rumours that the Tilean boatmen work primarily at night in order to avoid confrontation with the guild. You ask the boatman if this is true, but he vigorously denies it and claims to be a full member of the Boatmans guild. However he never shows you his license, preferring to avoid the issue. You do not press the point, instead you ask him whether he knows a slim boatman, who speaks wastelander like a native and who was a captain on his own ship back in Tilea. “Yes of course everybody knows Captain Stantiati. He used to head the local chapter of the boatman’s guild until it was closed down. ” Curious about the circumstances you ask why the Tilean chapter was closed down and by whom. “It is no secret. The boatman’s guild was unhappy with the many businesses who specifically asked for Tilean boatmen. It was hurting the other chapter houses. That is why they closed us down, withdrew all our licenses and required that we enlist in the remaining chapter houses as junior member. It is a great insult. I have been a boatman for 23 years. I know every canal in Marienburg. I am junior to no one. Furthermore junior boatmen have no say in the management of the chapter houses.” The Tilean speaks fluently and with less accent now. He clearly knows the law and the inner workings of the boatman’s guild. You want to ask him how come the businesses specifically wanted Tilean boatmen, but the journey has come to an end at a small Tilean restaurant. The name of the restaurant is in Tilean and make no sense to you, but the boatman has seen you studying the name and says with a proud smile and gestures towards the restaurant ”This is the Blossoming Sea Flower”. As quickly as you disembark, the boatman has secured the boat and together you enter the restaurant. The voluminous yet short owner greats you with a loud “Chiao Giovanni”. He and the boatman exchanges several kiss alternating between chins in what seems like every possible and impossible combination. The two gossips in Tilean for half a minute. “This is my sister’s husband”, the Boatman Giovanni introduces the owner, who shakes your hand “He does not speak Wastelander but I will translate for you. I have already told him that you want a true Tilean breakfast with everything, wine, sausages, eggs, fish, meat, more wine, herbs and bread of course. He wishes to know if you also want the soup? Today’s Special is a secret ingredient crab soup” Taken aback by the large meal and for safety reasons you decline the soup, much to the disappointment of the owner, but he has an impressive meal ready for you in mere moments. While waiting you ask Giovanni how come the businesses specifically wanted Tilean boatmen. The answer is prompt and without hesitation or irony “We simply do a better job. No cheating the costumers with expensive ‘shortcuts’ or kids in the boats without prober supervision. The regular boatmen are lazy. For them it is a job. For us it is a way of life. We have a love for the canals running in our blood. Many Tilean cities have canals like Marienburg.” You do not hear the rest of the lengthy explanation as you become hypnotized by the incredibly agile finger Giovanni use to lecture the entire city state of Marienburg about the merits of the Tilean boatman. After a while you regain your train of thought and notices that Giovanni has eaten about half the meal, but more interestingly he speaks with only a slight accent now. Interrupting him you ask him where the accent went. He stops perplexed and burst into laughter “Ok you got me. I must be tired. You know, I was born here. The accent is just a habit. Most costumers think they get better deals when they cheat a filthy foreigner and besides you would not believe the stories I hear when the customers do not believe that I understand them” He nods knowingly. “Even the ladies are not that ladylike when they think I do not understand… Anyway I really must go to bed now, otherwise I do not get to see my family before my shift tonight. It was very nice to meet you, Novice” As you watch Giovanni go up the stairs of the small restaurant you wonder if the Tileans would be just as approachable if they knew you were a newstaff. Fortunately it is very common for people to mistake newstaffs for novices as there are so many more novices and because the College is located in the same district as all the major strongholds of the clergy.
A little late you hail a new Tilean boatman (it is not like you have a choice as there are only Tilean boatmen here) and pay him extra to hurry you to the Brush and Gull for another day at work. Even though you know Sibo will dislike that you are running late, you are still in a good mood. This is what life is like when money is not an issue: Life is good. And now you know Captain Stantiati by name and reputation. He just might be the ideal business partner, if he is not spooked by magic, but you will have to find out later otherwise Sibo will really get mad.
As usual Herr Südenwald greets you at the door of the Brush and Gull and escorts you to the room. Sibo does not mention the fact that you are a little late, but goes straight to work. In the pauses you are both silent each contemplating on his own. The mood just seems different and silence the order of the day. It is not until lunch that you break the silence “Sibo, I do not want to disturb your, but I want to clarify that I am certainly not quitting mid-project. Perhaps I was not clear enough the other day.” Sibo turns to look at you and states “I know, but you are unhappy and the work does not pay well enough to pay for your studies, so you are very keen on trying something else.” You cannot help thinking that he might be reading your mind and starts to count. “You are right on every point, Sibo” you acknowledge “How long do you need my services and is there something more I can do?” Sibo responds “Well you still have to teach the customer about Throwing Lightening.The pay is the same but maybe you can do both jobs simultaneously if you are disciplined.” You complain that you are unskilled in the art of Throwing Lightning, But Sibo dismisses your complain as irrelevant as the customer is even more unskilled. “I have already arranged the first meeting. It is in two days. Have you heard about Clara de Roelef” While you have not heard much about Clara you know that the last name as one of the ten, you have never heard of Clara. “She is the Niece of Director de Roelef, and we want to keep him happy!” Sibo get up indicating that lunch is over and it is time to get back to work. The mood is better, lighter now that the air has been cleared.
In the evening after a very long day, you decide to go to Little Tilea in order to invite Captain Stantiati to dinner. You hail a boatman and as he is not Tilean he insist on dropping you off just shy of Little Tilea. Walking around in little Tilea is slow as there is simply too many people in the very small streets. However, this means that there are many people to ask whether they know the Captain Stantiati. About half the people speak wastelander and among these most either have not heard about Captain Stantiati or is unwilling to help a wastelander. Several have heard his name before but do not know of his whereabouts, while some suggest you ask one of the boatmen, whom are everywhere on the small canals. Directing your questions towards a boatman proves very efficient. The very first one takes a close look at you and asks “Who is asking?”. You present yourself and try to explain how you know the captain, but the boatman cuts you short by claiming “Yes the Captain has told us to look for you should you find your way to Little Tilea. I will take you to him.” Once you have entered his little craft, the boatman start to negotiate his way along the busy canals. Before long you have entered and exited several miniature canals, where there is only room for one way traffic. You suspect most of these canals are private as they tend to enter a private garden or dock with two exits. Fortunately these canals see little use and no angry owners confront the boatman even though you are spotted many times. You wonder how things would have fared, had the boatman not been Tilean, while you survey the backside of Little Tilea as it flow by you. Everywhere it is filthy and busy. Unlike the greater canals and streets, there are not many flowers here, but the smell of exotic spicy food is the same everywhere. Soon you arrive at a small restaurant with a private dock. Once again the name escapes you. The boatman points at the restaurant and say “The captain works here.” You get out of the boat and enter the restaurant, not really knowing what to expect. It turns out to be a simple, yet clean, place. There are no fancy decorations, no Mafiosi bodyguards and nostalgic bartenders talking about the virtues of the ‘Old Country’. It is more like a work place where every booth offers privacy and in each booth one, two or three Tileans concentrate on whatever they are doing. The place hums with whispered conversation, much like the library study room back at the College. As you enter everybody looks up for a moment, but as Captain Stantiati gets up and walks towards you, everyone returns their attention to their own business. Stantiati greets you, graping your right hand with both of his, shaking it vigorously. He smiles and says “I was hoping you would return. I had a feeling about you. Thanks for coming. Let’s sit down over here.” As you sit down on opposite sides of the table in Captain Stantiati’s booth, he asks you whether you have ever tasted coffee. “It is a wonderfully invigorating spice from the New World boiled in water, you should try it. Miguel makes the best coffee in Marienburg” He signals the bartender, who brings you two cups of coffee. “So what is on your mind, Newstaff?” Surprised that the Stantiati did not make the same assumption most people do and a little disturbed by his seemingly omniscience you ask him: ”How did you know that? Most people assume I am a Novice.” “Well while we spoke you did not invoke the name of the gods at any time and besides that staff is too well made for the average Novice”, he replies calmly, probably well knowing that you will press the point: “So you are not afraid of us?”, you say referring to student of magic in general. “Of course I am, any sane man would be. But I need your help. I need magic on my side of the coming storm.” As he can ses you hesitating, he elaborates after tasting the coffee “The boatman guild will not let us operate freely outside Little Tilea and we can neither tolerate the humiliation of junior membership in the guild or sustain ourselves in Little Tilea alone, so a struggle is certain to come and it is a struggle that I will win.” You suddenly get the distinct feeling that it is most likely uncomfortable to have this man as an enemy. Stantiati continuous: “You need money which unfortunately I cannot provide, but I can get you a text from the Old Country on the secrets of the Clouds. This will save you a lot of money in tuition, right?” You know that you are showing an interest and a little too much. It is a poor negotiating strategy, but you cannot help it, buying time you say “I will need to see the book and know what you want from me in some detail. Also the time span in which you seek my services is important.” Stantiati nods approvingly and says “It is only reasonable. I need you to infiltrate the Guild-we-have-heard-of. Casanova stands firmly behind the Boatman guild and the Stevedors. Without an inside man it will be an uphill battle to win, but with an inside man I have a plan and better than a fighting chance of taking down the racist Boatman guild. What say you?”

Email Session 3: Little Tilea

One day takes the next as you fall into the rhythm of the enchanters. The days are spend with Sibo and the evenings at the college, where you spend several evenings asking around about Master Ewans among the other newstaffs, several tell you that Master Ewans is the longest serving master at the College. He is a Fooger, one of the ten, but has little interest in the affairs and politics of Marienburg. Magical armours on the other hand is his passion. He enthusiastically collects every description of magical armours he can find, and so he is friends with all the antiquarians in Marienburg. “Remember as a Fooger his funds are virtually unlimited.” is mentioned envious several times. On newstaff tells you that his master has had long conversation about the workings of the magic Seek Water with Master Ewans. Another student tells you the same, but concerning Seek Air. However, two evenings spend on a tour of the antiquarians of Marienburg reveal, that they have not seen Master Ewans in months. They are quite concerned about the health of one of their important customers.
Two weeks after Sibo hired you, you have doubled your savings to an impressive 27 guilders. Perhaps because you do not have time to spend any money even though you keep reminding yourself to bye new cloth. 27 guilders is enough to pay the yearly license of 10 guilders and still have enough to live and fool around a little, but not enough to continue your studies. At a staggering 100 guilders per year studying is for the rich. It is a true wonder that a former street urchin like your self ever managed to become a newstaff. You figure that you need to be better payed or else you'll only be able to study about half the time and that is provided Sibo needs your skills all the time. So the next day during lunch, you ask him "So Sibo how much do sell the gemstones for anyway? The way I figure it you must make a hefty profit on this deal. You would not even notice if you payed me 2 guilders a day..." Sibo stops eating at a moments notice, sizing you up with his eyes "Are you saying you would abandon ship midway? Where would you go? It is not like the College or the families are hiring newstaffs and Casanova really hates people that do not complete their tasks. Can you protect yourself against that kind of fury? Anyway it is not my business, if you want to quit or get a raise you must talk to Casanova. I, for one, will have no part in it." The rest of the meal is word free. Utter silence. Even when you try to lighten the mood with a joke, Sibo do not laughs but only looks at you, still sizing you up. That afternoon seems long as it is strictly business. At the end of the day, as you are about to leave escorted by herr Südenwald, Sibo lays his hand upon your shoulder and says "Marius, I like you. Don't do anything foolish. Casanova is not a man with whom you discuss wages and if you quit he will likely just have someone pass you up on the streets and give you irrefutable reasons to continue, probably for free." You can see genuine concern in his face and the comment "probably for free" gives you chills as they would any true Marienburger. Nobody does anything for free without serious threats. As you exit the Brush and Gull, Herr Südenwald stops you and says "Two times I have lost a customer in ambushes. And both times while the nuns nurtured me back to health, my patron visited a man called Casanova and payed him for his kindness towards me." Herr Südenwald raises a telling eyebrow. "Apart from those two times, I have never seen Tobias Marquandt pushed around, not even by the gangs or by any of the ten houses." As abruptly as the warning started, it is finished. Herr Südenwald turns toward the exit. As an afterthought, more stating a fact than complaining, he mumbles "The sum was deducted from my pay of course." Slightly disturbed, you hail a boatman and head for the College. It comes as no surprise that he is Tilean, but it takes you a few moments to realise this, because the man is slim and speaks Wastelander well. Feeling curious and safe in the dense evening fog, you ask him about the recent controversy between The Boatman’s guild and the Tileans. It is like opening the flood gates. The man has so much to say on the subject that he stops the boat to give you a really unfiltered opinion about the Guild structure in Marienburg: ”The guilds main function is to monopolize trade. It is unimportant if I do a better, safer and cheaper job. Back home I was a captain on my own ship. My ship was so fast that the pirates had to frame me for smuggling in order to my trade and force me to move up here, but what does it matter: Pirates or guildsmen. It is just a name their actions are the same. May The Virgin Mary have pity on all their dark greedy souls!” He stops to breath and then continuous: ”Did you know that the boatman guild is one of the most powerful guilds in Marienburg. Allied with the stevedores, who load and unload all cargo of the docking ships in Marienburg, the boatman guild controls all transportation of cargo and personal via the waterways in the city. That is a big deal in a city with more waterways than streets!” Once again the flood of word stops to breathe while he shakes his head in a gesture of self-aware importence. A sudden shift in his body language towards the more assertive leads up to the next barrage of words: “Come I will show you Little Tilea. You will see that we are not all fat smelly people that lies steal and cheat for a living. We are a proud people, determined to make our way in Marienburg.” He paddles feverishly as he speak, not noticing your stunned look at the turn of events: “Look here it is all around us, is it not beautiful like a little piece of home”. Looking at Little Tilea as you glide effortless through the many small canals, you see that it has almost doubled in size since you were here last.

Everything is different here. The architecture looks exotic, just like the food smells foreign. People are dressed in strangely designed clothing and everybody is speaking Tilean. Once in a while your boatman shouts questions to people on the streets or in passing boats, always like they are long lost friends. The people all speak wastelander and shout back short phrases about their life in Marienburg. They are all homesick, but working in Marienburg is more profitable and so they stay in Marienburg swearing that once they retire they will return to their beloved homeland. Concerning the boatman guild there is considerable anger about the alleged racism of the guild. “They do not give us a fair chance, so what if the boatman does not speak wastelander as long as he can find where the customer is going.” is a quote that pretty well sums up the shouting. Just as suddenly as Little Tilea appeared out of the fog, just as quickly is it gone. You can see nothing but water on all sides. Likewise the boatman is suddenly silent and takes you to the College. As you disembark, he takes your hand and says “Little Tilea needs all the friends it can get.” Nothing else is spoken, but the look in his eyes as he spoke was dead serious. He gives you a small wave of the hand as he drifts back into the fog.
Back at the College you continue your research into traditional wizard clothing, you find several books in the College library about Protective Circles. In the books there are many anecdotes claiming that a silver circle defends the caster against the Curse and you quickly establish that typically a quick circle of silver dust is spread around the caster, but that permanent high quality silver circles also exist. It requires training to create these circles. Some of these permanent silver circles are woven into cloth like robes or hats. However, it is not enough for you with a protective circle around your head. You need to be fully inside a circle as you use both arms and legs in your spell casting. Therefore you need something like a robe. Furthermore, you find that the craftsmanship of the silver circle is essential to how it reacts to the magic. Circles of inferior quality do not work, while silver from for example coins are temporary and work only once. Only truly pure silver circles are permanent. The cost of these circles increase with the casting cost of the spell. Some of the most expensive permanent circles cost several hundred guilders. Realising you do not have the economic means to afford so expensive utilities, you turn in, dead tired as always and knowing tomorrow once again bring the aching pain of magically induced exhaustion.