It seemed as though several hours had passed during this discussion, however with everything moving at the speed of thought, only about fifteen minutes passed while the issues were decided.
Returning from the room in Von's mind and back to focusing on the real world around them, Alden, Alendoria, Brook, and Oren decided it would be necessary to invoke the council of mages to hear of the happening. Alendoria and Alden reached into their robes, after which each pulled a coin seemingly made of some reddish gold material from within some hidden pocket. Once retrieved, the two wizards poked themselves with a splintered portion of the coin, dripped on drop of blood onto the center of it and bent the coin along the center causing it to break.
In less than a minute, a woman materializes at the center of the room, from a swirl of ethereal mist, her figure gracefully emerging from the arcane energies that envelop her. Clad in flowing grey robes adorned with celestial symbols and hues that seem to shift with unseen energies, she cuts an imposing yet elegant figure.
Sea green hair cascades down her shoulders, framing a turquoise face marked by ageless wisdom and a gaze which seems to hold the secrets of countless visions. Her eyes, a deep shade of lime, seem to reflect the mysteries of the cosmos as they scan the room, locking onto each individual with an intensity suggesting a connection to unseen realms.
This odd-looking woman carries an intricately carved staff, adorned with crystals emitting a soft, pulsating glow in her webbed hands. The air around her seems to ripple with residual magic, leaving a lingering sense of awe and reverence in its wake. She carries a potent aura of the divination master as she examines each person present and takes serious note of Mistress Trapper laying on the floor.
Despite the awe-inspiring entrance, and sights before her, the expression on her smooth face remains serene as she continues to take in everything in her surroundings. After a moments a glaze covers her eyes and a faint, knowing smile graces her lips. Her voice, when she finally speaks, carries a melodic quality that resonates with an otherworldly wisdom, inviting all present into the realm of divinatory mysteries.
The sudden appearance of this woman is an enchanting spectacle, leaving Von and Monica captivated by the tangible magic surrounding this master of divination at the magical academy in Sungrove. Seeing the two newcomers to the academy, she tilts her head slightly and in the same melodious voice says, "I am Cordelia Nerissa, mistress of the Tower of Divination and it is my pleasure to make the acquaintance of two who elude my abilities, Monica Cooper and Von Zupan." As she shakes their hands, they each detect the scent of the seas surrounding her.
Before Cordelia can complete her circle of the table, a blaze of flames springs forth seeming to dance with a mind of their own. From this fiery doorway emerges another woman whose presence is announced by the crackling of fire, as her form becomes discernible amidst the fiery spectacle. Clad in robes adorned with ember-like patterns, she exudes an aura of controlled intensity that mirrors the flames she commands.
Her hair, a fiery cascade of red and orange, seems to flicker with an inner flame as she strides into the room. Eyes ablaze with determination, she surveys her surroundings with a keen awareness that hints at her mastery over the element of fire. Seeing the mental master frozen in time on the floor, the blaze turns to a smolder giving warning to those nearby.
In one hand, she holds a staff topped with a blazing crystal that radiates warmth and light. As she moves, sparks of fire trail in her wake, leaving a fleeting trail of embers that dissipate into the air. The air itself seems to shimmer with the residual heat of her magical presence.
Despite the inherent danger associated with pyromancy, this woman carries herself with a poise speaking of disciplined control. The flames surrounding her respond to an unspoken command, flickering and swaying with the rhythm of her intentions.
Her voice, when she speaks, resonates with the crackling energy of a roaring bonfire. With words carrying both warmth and authority, as she addresses the strangers in the room, "hello. I am Mistress Chandler. I sit on the council as the pyromancy representative." She nodded to Monica and Von before walking in front of Oren and bowing deeply. Warmest greetings, Master Moonrise."
The sudden appearance of Mistress Chandler was a breathtaking display of elemental mastery, leaving the two children impressed due to the obvious power wielded by the master of pyromancy before them. The fact she bowed before Oren acknowledging him as her superior left them completely dumbstruck.
In contrast to the warmth pouring from the fiery woman, a chilling presence filled the room, creating a dramatic and somber entrance, as a man draped in flowing, dark robes that seemed to absorb the surrounding light stepped into the room, casting an air of solemnity around him. He walked across the floor from the doorway moving with an unhurried and deliberate gait. The fabric of his attire whispers against the air, creating an eerie ambiance as he approaches. His piercing gaze, framed by a hood that partially obscures his face, exuded an aura of ageless wisdom and an intimate understanding of the mysteries of life and death.
The man's pale, almost translucent skin contrasts starkly with the shadowy attire, and his eyes gleamed with an otherworldly luminescence. The air seems to grow colder in his presence, and a subtle scent of decay lingers as a testament to his mastery over the forces of death.
In his gloved hands, he cradled a darkened staff adorned with symbols of mortality. Its mere presence sends shivers down the spines of those in the room, as if it channels the very essence of the underworld. Wisps of shadow coil around the staff, hinting at the potent magic that lies within.
As the master of death magic, commanded a respect bordering on reverence, and his entrance into the building left the impression of the somber power residing within him. Silence followed in his wake, broken only by the faint echo of footsteps and the distant murmur of whispers among the examiners. Upon speaking, his voice carried a resonance which seemed to echo from the depths of the netherworld, revealing a profound understanding of the delicate balance between life and death. Looking at the children and noticing neither seemed to fear him in the least, he grinned, the corners of his mouth going much too far along his jaws. "I am Verdon Mason, master of necromancy at this academy. I hold the seventh seat on the council. To whom do I have the joy of meeting?"
Monica and Von looked at each other but were unable to reply due to the room suddenly filled with a burst of kinetic energy as a blur of motion dashed into the space. Before the onlookers were capable of fully comprehending what transpired, the form of a sleek, agile animal streaked across the room with incredible speed. A momentary glimpse revealed a flash of fur and feathers which executed several acrobatic maneuvers, displaying an uncanny grace and familiarity with the natural world in a showy display.
As the animal form swiftly wove through the room, the atmosphere crackles with anticipation. Then, in a sudden and fluid motion, the creature undergoes a mesmerizing transformation. The air seemed to ripple with arcane energy as the sleek form morphed, reshaping itself into the solid, dwarven stature of a master of transformation magic.
The now-revealed dwarf stands tall, with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a playful smile on his face. His hair, a rich and earthy shade of chestnut brown, fell in untamed waves around his shoulders. The color complemented the warmth in his eyes, which hold a spark of curiosity and mischief. His expressive eyebrows danced with amusement, revealing his lighthearted nature. Dressed in vibrant, enchanted attire reflecting the diverse array of creatures he can become, the master of transformation exudes an infectious energy that lightens the room.
Perhaps the most remarkable feature is the dwarf's meticulously groomed beard, a source of both pride and fascination. His beard is a splendid mixture of chestnut brown and streaks of silver, suggesting a blend of youth and the wisdom that comes with age. It is obvious he takes great care in maintaining its appearance, braiding intricate patterns into the strands and adorning it with small, enchanted trinkets that shimmer with magical energy.
The arrangement of this beard is also a testament to his love for the art of transformation. The braids and twists are not static; they seem to shift and morph on their own, echoing the dynamic nature of the magic he wields. Looking at his beard, one could see small, illusionary creatures playfully cavorting within the strands of his beard, showcasing the whimsical side of his mastery.
Seeing the performance so far, Von was forced to smirk while Monica let out a hearty laugh while applauding this theatrical entrance. As they continued to study this stocky figure, they looked closely at what he was wearing and the item he held for in his hands for, unlike the others who chose to wield staves, his hands are clasped about a hammer adorned with symbols representing the myriad forms he can assume. It pulses with residual magic, attesting to the transformative prowess he wields. The room, once filled with anticipation, erupts into a chorus of impressed murmurs and applause as the examiners show appreciation for the showy entrance.
The dwarf's attire was a mix of practicality and enchantment. He wore sturdy, well-crafted robes accommodating his agile movements, with colors mirroring the changing seasons and landscapes he would emulates in his transformations. Adorned with magical symbols and charms, his clothing served both functional and aesthetic purposes. His appearance, much like his magic, reflects the harmonious blend of tradition, creativity, and the ever-evolving nature of the arcane arts.
His voice, resonant and filled with mirth, greeted the two children kindly. Laughing he tumbled forward in a somersault over the body of Mistress Trapper and stopping before the small girl in front of him. Leaning forward beside her ear, he whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear him clearly, "ignore these old fuddy-duddys. They put too much starch in the drawers."
As Monica laughed at his antics and put-down of the more serious elders, he jumped into the air across the table transforming into a swan as he landed on top of Von's head, causing her laughter to turn into pleasant squeals of joy and she again applauded. He bent his long neck to beside the boy's each and let out honking sound made out by all to say, "beware the dark one, he stinks of death."
Summoning a large, gilded, iron throne to the right of Von, the goose ran down the boy's arm landing smoothly in the seat transforming into his dwarven self once again. Looking toward the floor to Mistress Eve, he looked back and forth between the children before asking, "what'd she do, slip on some dung, or did one of you two poke her and let the air out of her balloon?"
Von, caught up in the moment, laughed and said, "It was me, I poked her."
The dwarf shook his head at the woman and simply said, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, I knew children would eventually be the death of you...."