No matter the darkness, the deathly smells from his comrades, Master still keeps the camp lively with witty banter, homage to his two bloodlines. Following his whims he "breaks camp", and quickly the camp is stowed and I follow his nobel path.
Miss Amrith and I catch up as the Master is momentarily held up by the chose of 2 doors, opting for a complex method of rhyme to resolve his predicament. The Tree Walker isn't pleased by this and looks to see the other direction, but ultimately sees the wisdom in his method. Between Miss Amrith and The Wandering One they explain this focus has much of Thadrulex's personality, seeing weakness in non-elven kind. Across the hall shows another spell focus, it's opposite a white orb, full of life. This is too dangerous for now and we go to check the other path.
The Wandering One shows that each of these are the founders of a school of magic, though doubts that Thadrulex was their teacher, an odd thing to claim something so grand in a place so run down. Miss Amrith mirrors this Zelda the unstudied Blood Witch, a curious mentor, she believes she is related.
I carefully study each of these figures that mark the start of their house, if Thadrulex was truly their teacher he may yet keep some of their possessions.
House Jahoon, House Jinda, House Ardaphan, Neermata, House Telemon and the Unstudied. are present Missing is House Malestri (Represented in the other room) and House Varta and House Isthari.
Black Crystals sorround a pool of frozen black ichor, and the alcove houses 3 pillar of flames dancing slowly with no wind. This looks a place that I could medidate peacfully. Miss Amrith says her blade was quenched here when forged, but the Son of Law reads "Passage for payment, trial for tribute, blood for bounty." Master mentions he heard his mother speaking of sacrifice, and I could feel the warmth of their bodies, and the hunger inside.
Master tells me to hold before slitting the throat of his rat, and now it is my companion, I can feel it tremble as it knows death comes at any moment. A glorious way to relax amongst this tense backdrop.
Atop the throne an ancient elf, alive in some manner, marked with the sigil of Thadrulex. A diciple Ozemar, asks us if we are here to claim the prize, he claims to be the last diciple. He looks to show us power by casting a spell, but his silence in Master's presence is all that is required. (-2 Ki). Blood Magic, interesting this may be worth learning, however he cannot weather our attack and turns to dust (-3 Ki)