A regular roster of guards were posted on the raker, instructed to loose a Firearrow skywards should anything untoward occur, ad the rest of the crew given the option of shoreleave. The original raker crew were escorted and watched by Culran's crew and several of the soldiers.
After some discussion, the selling of the collected loot was left to Lyrval the Cargomaster, and the commanders of the Qhal Company set off into Agahir in search of enchantments and spell training.
Each Academy maintained a dealership in the major cities - including Agahir - and some enquiries led them to the offices of the oldest and proudest Academy on Neudorn, Academy Stalmyr.
There,
they met a friendly magician named Gariand, one of several of Stalmyr's
students serving his stint providing magic for sale to interested parties. He
made them welcome - with their expensive weapons and heavy armour, they looked
the sort of well-heeled adventurous types that Stalmyr made good money from.
So it turned out. After some negotiations, a wide assortment of magical training was purchased, along with permanent enchantments of Protection-3 to Skaven's armour and Parry-3 on a bracer for Percinious. A few more dhalven spent on having a spell cast allowed the identification of the harp - it turned out that a player competent with the instrument as well as the magic could cast a version of the Emotion spell, powerful enough to affect everyone in a radius rather than just the one target. This, then, was how the ship captain who'd owned it had made his deals, by affecting the mental state of buyers and sellers with the harp while concluding business. No-one wanted to keep it, so the harp was traded as part payment for the enchantements and training.
As well as the arcane, more mundane purchases were made. Percinious collected a variety of cloths and supplies for Avin'utherdar, allowing the tailor qhal to sew himself new clothes. Once outfitted in these, unfortunately, he was even more conspicuous than before, and was confined to the raker, rather to his annoyance.
The remaining high-grade steel was traded to a metalsmith for a combination of 250 dhalven and 50 more bolts forged from lesser metal - after all, high-grade sword steel was rather wasted on something like this.
While all this was going on, applicants had been drifting in in response to the notice Mehmet had put up, advertising for half-qhal to join the crew. Half a dozen responded;
During the period when the others were recieving their magical training, Percinious was at a bit of a loose end. Intrigued by the structure of the Academies, and spurred by suspicion to hope, he began to make enquiries about 'the Dark Academy' despite having no proof of the existence of any such thing.
His enquiries seemed to bear fruit. One evening, as he and Gilbert sat in a tavern, a shadowy figure spoke to Percinious as he leaned on the bar.
Demanding money, the man confirmed that Percinious was indeed the one asking after the Dark Academy. He directed the halfblood to be in the alley between Gold Street and Clock Street at midnight, and left. Nutbolter lost sight of him instantly, but Gilbert, watching from their table, saw him slip into the crowd and followed skillfully.
Weaving
through the city, the stranger finally led him to a door on which he knocked
a complex sequence Gilbert couldn't quite catch, and slipped inside.
Reaching the door, Gilbert could hear snippets of a conversation in his native Dorlan. It seemed to run along the lines of 'I think he's genuinely interested' not 'great let's mug the sucker' but it was a heavy door and he couldn't be sure. He returned to Percinious and the pair discussed the idea.
Both were pretty sure it was a trap, but the risk seemed worth it to Nutbolter, who hungered to learn more of the sorcerous powers that were his heritage. It was agreed that Gilbert would shadow him as he went to the rendezvous and rescue him if things got sticky.
At midnight, then, Percinious Nutbolter approached the alley. Despite its' name, it was in a distinctly insalubrious district, and was dark and shadowy. Pausing for a moment, Percinious Nutbolter took an action that marked an irrevocable change in his life. He cast his first sorcery spell outside training.
Nervous, he flubbed it the first time, but the second time it worked, and he felt the pure flow of energy wash through him, felt the sensation of absolute control produced by taking the base spell and twisting it, manipulating it, shaping it totally to his requirements before releasing it. Never again would battle magic feel the same. It was mundane, ordinary, limited. This - this was true magic, magic of power limited only by the ability of the worker to wield it.
To his eyes only, a shimmer of arcane energy boiled out from his palms, and spread across his entire body, sheathing him in an invisible shell of protection as the Damage Resistance spell took effect.
A dark shape detached itself from the shadows, and approached him. "You seek the Dark Academy?" it asked without preamble. Percinious nodded slightly. "Do you want to learn, or sell, or teach?" it continued. "All," said Percinious, daringly. The figure's head nodded in return. "We will be in touch," it said, and as he watched, it seemed to fade. His half-qhal vision saw better in these shadows than a human, but without physically moving, the figure faded into the shadows, until it was barely visible - and then was gone.
Rather disappointed, Percinious and Gilbert looked at each other, shrugged, and turned to walk back.
And as they did so, a flaming arrow arced upwards into the night sky above the harbour... and very faint and distant, they could hear the sounds of clashing steel....
[The trading and spending left a balance of 9,340 marks plus 50 more ballista bolts]
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