Scribe-5's Enchanting Apprenticeship

Thousands of souls were released from the Soul Vortex and some even found their way back to the material plane. Clean-up would take effort and resources. The Veil was the best candidate for the job and were offered to task if they were willing. If only to provide access to Arnini's pocket dimension. Planar magic would be required and work would start as soon as the party felt ready. Meanwhile, plenty of rampant souls were on the loose and actively hunted down by interested parties     The powers that be would try their best to find and combine souls with their original bodies. However, everyone involved knew that not everyone would find their way home. Time was thus of the essence and any willing allies of the Awarth would be welcome to lend a hand in the coming effort. Many an emissary called on the leaders of the Awarth and the Veil to express their utmost willingness to provide aid. More than one was probably there only to witness the new power in Yin. The emperor was nowhere to be seen and the palace was completely gone from Hogo-sha. In its place was a huge open crater.   After some time of rest and furious diplomacy the party could finally find a few moments of downtime to focus on other pressing issues. Thankfully Glannon and the Path of the Sage and Hil provided a much needed buffer when possible. Walking around Falanaar had always been a strange experience. It would not necessarily become calmer or less strange. Except now the party could ask for a certain space to not be bothered. When necessary a signal would get passed among the crowds gathered and a quiet respect took hold. All onlookers would go along their business, content that they had at least seen the heroes in passing. More was not needed.   A walking broom appears outside the gate of Veilhearth a quiet early morning.   It carries 4 buckets in its 2 spindly hands. After opening the gate it wades like a goose straight towards Scribe-5 and hands her 2 of the buckets. Scribes quickly accepts the buckets, carefully making sure no water spills out. "Hello there, little one. Where to?" She greets it, quickly looking it over to see if it bears the mark of her enchanting teacher.   As she take the buckets, it turns around while splashing what seems to be water in a full circle around it. The walking broom marches straight out without checking to see if she follows. It takes her through the sewers and into Falanaar proper. The scribe and Hil guards raise an eyebrow but this probably isn't the weirdest they've seen lately and the guards salute you as you walk past.   The sewers feel clean and fresh. Almost earthy and a faint smell of herbs permeates the sewers. Hard to pinpoint, but the air feels much lighter than before. Someone did something to the air? A crowd gathers immediately. Many holding wanted posters, hesitantly approaching Scribes as she walks through Falanaar.   Scribes watches the broom walk away for a second, then turns to the rest of the party with a shrug, before following it into the city. She is taking mental notes of the air quality and the walking mechanics of the broom. It will all be written down once her hands are free enough to hold her notebook. While she maintains a polite distance from the crowd, and tries to keep pace with her weird new companion, she scans the names and faces on the posters. The new data will be used to update her extensive records of the remaining displaced souls.   No perceivable mark can be seen on the walking broom. Walking through Falanaar does not take long. No one presses Scribes overly much for information on lost relatives or friends. There is a sort of reverence in the crowd as she passes them by. There are perhaps more posters than before but there is hope in the crowd.   Someone hands her a sparkling pie of silver and yellows. No words. Just a bow and the hawker walks off selling her wares. Scribes ends up with several food items after the short stroll to Spellbound, a magic shop and workplace of her potential teacher in Enchantment.   Business is lively. Scribes brought even more with her. Sellers and byers mingle between the low plinths, stands and tables that hold all manner of magical items for sale.   Scribes staggers awkwardly into the establishment, desperately trying to balance the two water buckets and the random assortment of trinkets she couldn't figure out how to decline. Putting down the buckets for a quick break, she tries to hand the food items to whichever passerby might be hungry enough to accept them. She makes a mental note to ask her friends for the rules on how to decline gifts when she comes back, or at least how to politely explain that she is not physically capable of eating.   With one last look through her now smaller pile of offerings, she realizes that she is stalling and reluctantly picks up the heavy buckets to venture into the sprawling interior of Spellbound in search of her new teacher. Hopefully, the work will mostly require intellect and finesse. Her design is greatly lacking in the strength department.   As she lugs the heavy buckets she gazes across the shop. So much activity and so many items on display. She quickly count over a hundred. Before she gets any higher a tall halfling in a silvery and blue uniform approaches her. His hair is slick and perfectly parted. A set of small spectacles on his thin nose. A buyer or two get completely ignored as he approaches her.   "How may I be of Spellbound service?" he says as he inclines his head.   "Oh, hello!" Scribes responds. "I was following this enchanted broom, presumably sent by Master Enchanter Erwel Mithanmae. Do you happen to know where she is?"   "Of course! Just head further into the shop. You won't miss her."   He gestures into the shop and it is then that you realize the strange illogical fact that it seems to go on forever. In the distance Scribes sees a short drow with blue/black skin and silvery hair. A torrent of animated objects seems to swirl around her. Any customer that approaches is immediately guided away by a seller in silver and blue livery.   The walking broom is heading straight toward her between all the myriad plinths and customers. When the broom reaches her, she glances towards Scribes for a second and waves her towards her.   Scribe-5 nods in greeting as she approaches. She gratefully puts down her buckets, eager to rest her poor arms while the opportunity presents itself during their talk. "Good morning, Master Enchanter Mithanmae", she proclaims cheerfully, betraying the fact that her inhuman lungs only draw breath at their convenience. "May I hope that the broom you sent was merely to showcase the usefulness of an enchantment we will be working on, and not to put me to work with manual labor?", she chuckles nervously.   "Don't worry, you'll be binding and enchanting so much that you'll wish you were carrying the buckets. How else will you pay for this incredible discount and knowledge?" She says while not really looking at Scribe-5 but with a faraway gaze. All the while waving her hands and gently moving her body in what Scribes assumes is a dance. The myriad of objects seem to respond to her every movement.   "Yes, of course, mastery can only be gained through consistent and considerable amounts of practice. I look forward to the experience you will help me achieve". Scribes takes a moment to observe her movements. "I had not considered that one could use other body parts for the somatic components of spells. Facinating. It must be difficult to master, seeing as it has great potential in freeing up your hands for other things, yet not being widespread. Or have others just failed to imagine the technique..." Her words dissolve into fascinated mutterings as she get lost in thought about the potential of this new form of spellcasting.   Scribes doesn't notice a stream of flying bowls with miscellaneous contents flying towards the Master Enchanter. They hit Scribes on the back of the head, covering her in powder and bits and bobs. Purple sparks and green smoke twirls around her head like in a cartoon. But all of it seems harmless. With her back towards her, "ah, that was your training material. An apprentice that isn't aware of their surroundings. How uncommon. First lesson then. Respect. Respect the magic and materials we work with. Don't waste valuables if you can avoid it. Now go to the Night Market and get me some more of what you lost. Analyze the content, make a list, go shopping. You know the dance." A ladle gets imbued with pink flowing paint and starts stirring itself in mid air. It then flies off to an assistant who grabs it and takes off.   Startled, Scribe-5 snaps back to reality. She quickly scans her surroundings for any other merchandise seeking to ambush her, before sheepishly turning back to her new teacher. "My apologies Master Enchanter Mithanmae, I'll strive to be more attentive in the future." Another quick glance around for unexpected projectiles follows, before Scribe-5 focuses on the various components covering her. She makes sure not to rush the investigation, making a mental note of the various materials she is able to identify, and the appearance of those she's not. "I will depart for the market now" She assures Mithanmae, before hurrying off.   However, Scribe-5 has no recollection of the Night Market ever being mentioned. Mithanmae seems totally occupied by her enchantments. Almost seems to have temporarily forgotten her. One of her assistants, a small half-elf with a flowering purple beard, points you further into the shop. The back of the shop seems to go on forever. Impossibly and illogically so.   Gratefully thanking the assistant, Scribe-5 walks in the indicated direction. On the way to the supposed "Night market" she casts Detect Magic. Might as well spend the time walking efficiently by analysing this facinating spacial enchantement. The rest of her companions would surely find extra space in the vault useful, something Scribe-5 has made extra effort to be since the Arnini fiasco.   The room seems impossible deep. Scribe-5 knows that Detect Magic has a limited range. Would it even detect anything other than the enchanted objects the shop sells? Walking closer to one of the walls to the side also doesn't seem to work. They just move further away from her. After walking for what feels like half an hour the Detect Magic finally reveals a layer of illusion, conjuration and necromancy. It's like a thin, slightly resistant layer of film. Translucent.   Making a mental note to ask the master enchanter about the spacial enchantement in more detail later, Scribes turns her full attention to the film in front of her. After looking at it for a bit, trying to gleam it's secrets, she reaches a hand forward and attempts to push through it. It's like sinking your hand into slightly resistant water. It passes through easily. Curiosity overtaking the more cautious parts of her mind, Scribes walks through the film entirely.   ----------------------------   Bead of lightning. Passed both test by the masters. Different schools:

• Imlementancer: High risk, high reward. Push the limits
• Wardwright: Protection
• Eclectic: Magic into objects. Broad, utilitarian. Practical

  Accepts becoming Master Enchanter Erwel Mithanmae's apprentice   If Scribes works hard, she can go up in rank. Which will also grant skills outside of enchanting. The ranks are:

1. Novice
2. Apprentice
3. Expert
4. Artisan
5. Master