Somber Questions

((Varland, Heiligtum))

It was a dreary day to travel, yet a traveller had to travel if one needed to. The grey clouds had been brought from the Alps and now disgorged their water upon the land, a continuous cycle of life. And through the rain and mud of the road leading to the manor of Umeffaeh, once a Royal wizard of Her Majesty's kingdom of Dalen and a trusted friend, Enanth Stormcrow walked steadily. His staff gave support on the terrain as he regarded the domicile.

He had hoped to find answers. The destruction of the college had rocked even him in surprise; the defenses stood strong for a short time but had been swept aside by powerful magics. An army of mages could not have penetrated the wards as easily as they did, yet they had succeeded. Enanth had never seen that type of magic.

Or rather, that type of magic used successfully.

It had been those mages that had spelled the end and what had Enanth worried. Pain magic, as it were, was dangerous in many circles of arcane study, as it relied on not only the memory of the infliction of pain to memorize a spell, but on raw emotion to power it. The fact that not only one but multiple mages had that ability made Enanth wonder if something else had been happening. It certainly seemed it but he had nothing except that night.

He hoped that he could get some answers from his friend. Perhaps they could seek the answer together.

He arrived and looked upon the manse's door. To the naked eye, there lay nothing in the door. To his eye, he could see the still tightly knotted cords of Weave bound in the dweomers of the door. He touched the center of the knot and sent a tiny spark of Weave into it. The alarm spell laid in there would surely alert Umeffaeh to his presence.

He waited patiently for a moment or two. The door had not opened in that time. Odd, he thought. He is nothing but punctual. Enanth this time applied his staff to the door, knocking loudly. He could hear the reverberation echo through the mansion. And he waited silently, patiently.