Posted on the bulletin boards on the ground and classroom levels:
All students interested in graduate level research should assemble in the Great Library at {1200 PST on Saturday 16 May}. For those students with conflicting study circles or Senior Necromancy exams at that hour, a make-up assembly will be held {1900 PST the same day.}
Please notify the Registrar of your attendance if possible in advance.
--Serapheena
Lady's College Scholars
Moderator: NWN2 - 03 DM
Lady's College Scholars
Enjoy the game
Re: Lady's College Scholars
Arizma plans to attend the earlier of the two assemblies.
Talk less. Listen more.
Current PCs: ?
Current PCs: ?
Re: Lady's College Scholars
Well, I was planing on picking up a TSM wand, help out the Euro crew, but in case this thing picks up maybe I can pick up the BG wand instead.
I'll give it a go, same time, Mister John Walker will attend.
I'll give it a go, same time, Mister John Walker will attend.
<paazin>: internet relationships are really a great idea
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Re: Lady's College Scholars
Glaustigan will be at the earlier assembly, barring unforseen events.
Re: Lady's College Scholars
Something odd is happening in the eastern Marches. It is a confederacy strained by political tension, a patchwork of peoples showing ragged threads at the seams. It is a wilderness traditionally savage and now under threat by the most extreme of natural forces -- a volcanic event. It is a land of heroes and monsters, of magic fell and of bloody swords. And against all of this, the oddity that men and women mutter about is that war has NOT come. That the Everfire has NOT erupted, wiping Sundabar from existence.
The citizenry of Luruar can see that the mighty of the region are departing Silverymoon and the rumored High Councils to return to their homes in Sundabar, in Mithril Hall, in Everlund and Felbarr. Truly, though, some whisper, the common man knew nothing of what went on at those Councils. Is this scattering of leaders back to their folds some sign of failure? Of success? The most pragmatic believe that it is proof only of tension, that the ambitious and powerful go on as they ever have...with their own needs paramount, unable to reach consensus, a confederacy only of convenience and only until convenience ends.
In the Lady's College itself, there is oddity as well. The oddity of classes as usual, though the Dean's door is more often closed than not these days, and whether he is inside at all is subject for debate. The teleportation circles in the Master's Hall and on the rooftop do seem to bear more traffic, frequent comings and goings of Spellguard and city dignitaries such as Azurecloak and even the Hornblade. The Registrar's office continues, also, to be unoccupied, and if pressed, Loremaster Oakroot will say only that emptiness, too, may be a full and potent symbol. No one of the college administration speaks of the Dean's Quest, or responds to student questions about it, although Magus Miresk snapped once in response to one such that politics may make strange bedfellows but it makes more corpses, and Mistress Melindia was overheard at one point whispering to Mistress Ostelle that it was intolerable that "Master Arcadavera's fate is unresolved because of the Palace's strongarm tactics on the supposedly great mages of--" And there she stopped, no doubt realizing her abjurations against eavesdropping had failed.
So...nothing. Nothingness is the oddity. Tension. Suspension. Sundabar has cautiously opened its gates to traffic, although most of its citizenry remain scattered around the Marches, unwilling to or discouraged against return. It is, however, allowing in travellers, none of whom report winged imps of fire darting out of the volcanic vents but all of whom note sulfurous smog still hanging in the sky and the occasional rumble underfoot. The Sky Pony Uthgardt have pulled back to wherever their hidden camps are. They no longer raid, although the memory of their incursions remains an ominous potential, and travellers eye warily the Nether Mountain slopes where they were last seen. A circus remains encamped on the road up to Silverymoon Pass. Rumors of pegasi, of masked clowns, of suspicions about the acrobats or performers of any sort fade away, although often it seems to those with the powers of observation, that spellguard in street clothes or off-duty knights appear to mix with the crowds in the audience...no doubt simply enjoying a day off from the duties of their callings.
Some might welcome this respite. They would perhaps be wiser to use it. For if there is one thing certain in the Silver Marches, it is that peace does not last, and that simmering tension can flash instantaneously into conflict and peril.
The citizenry of Luruar can see that the mighty of the region are departing Silverymoon and the rumored High Councils to return to their homes in Sundabar, in Mithril Hall, in Everlund and Felbarr. Truly, though, some whisper, the common man knew nothing of what went on at those Councils. Is this scattering of leaders back to their folds some sign of failure? Of success? The most pragmatic believe that it is proof only of tension, that the ambitious and powerful go on as they ever have...with their own needs paramount, unable to reach consensus, a confederacy only of convenience and only until convenience ends.
In the Lady's College itself, there is oddity as well. The oddity of classes as usual, though the Dean's door is more often closed than not these days, and whether he is inside at all is subject for debate. The teleportation circles in the Master's Hall and on the rooftop do seem to bear more traffic, frequent comings and goings of Spellguard and city dignitaries such as Azurecloak and even the Hornblade. The Registrar's office continues, also, to be unoccupied, and if pressed, Loremaster Oakroot will say only that emptiness, too, may be a full and potent symbol. No one of the college administration speaks of the Dean's Quest, or responds to student questions about it, although Magus Miresk snapped once in response to one such that politics may make strange bedfellows but it makes more corpses, and Mistress Melindia was overheard at one point whispering to Mistress Ostelle that it was intolerable that "Master Arcadavera's fate is unresolved because of the Palace's strongarm tactics on the supposedly great mages of--" And there she stopped, no doubt realizing her abjurations against eavesdropping had failed.
So...nothing. Nothingness is the oddity. Tension. Suspension. Sundabar has cautiously opened its gates to traffic, although most of its citizenry remain scattered around the Marches, unwilling to or discouraged against return. It is, however, allowing in travellers, none of whom report winged imps of fire darting out of the volcanic vents but all of whom note sulfurous smog still hanging in the sky and the occasional rumble underfoot. The Sky Pony Uthgardt have pulled back to wherever their hidden camps are. They no longer raid, although the memory of their incursions remains an ominous potential, and travellers eye warily the Nether Mountain slopes where they were last seen. A circus remains encamped on the road up to Silverymoon Pass. Rumors of pegasi, of masked clowns, of suspicions about the acrobats or performers of any sort fade away, although often it seems to those with the powers of observation, that spellguard in street clothes or off-duty knights appear to mix with the crowds in the audience...no doubt simply enjoying a day off from the duties of their callings.
Some might welcome this respite. They would perhaps be wiser to use it. For if there is one thing certain in the Silver Marches, it is that peace does not last, and that simmering tension can flash instantaneously into conflict and peril.
Enjoy the game