Seek out the Academy

The Academy of Ispola is the centerpoint of the city-state, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. It was a fortress in a forgotten age, home to a sect of battle-mages who fought back against the enemies that lurked in the darkness and the strange frontier; the exact nature of the threat long since lost to time. Though their victory against the mysterious ancient evil had been complete, they always feared the return of something greater, and so trained new acolytes to be the vanguard. As the sect fell into obscurity and eventually legend, the safety they created was still highly valued, and people of various walks of life built around the stone walls of the Academy, until Ispola, the Desert Rose, blossomed around it.

With so much as an age having passed since the storied days of the battle mages and the academy they founded, the standards here have diminished, at a rate so slow none would notice. None, except perhaps an Elf. What once was a rigid application system where only those with the greatest aptitude for the arcane arts would be permitted, it has become available to simply whoever has the money or the connections. The teachers too are simply those who pay to be recognized as professors here. Although both the desert sands and the administration of the Academy keep out the true charlatans, in their different ways, it is still left for a prospective student to figure out who the teachers are that are truly worth learning from. This distinction, you should have no problem with, you figure. Plus, with your great promise in the arena, professors should be eager to train the latest prodigy. Confidently, you head towards the center of the city, where the central spire of the Academy serves as the focal point for the whole city, and where new students are vetted. Your first greeting once you arrive is far colder than you anticipated. An old dwarf behind a desk responds to your presence almost immediately after the door closes

"Go away!" He bellowed, his deep voice filling the circular space

"What? I'm sorry, I'm here because I "

"be wantin' to become a student, yes I know. We don't want ye as a student, now get out!"

"You don't understand, I'm already capable of casting magic. Why I-"

"Just fought in the arena and are using your winnings to try to enter the prestigious Academy of Ispola."

"But, how d-"

"Yer asking a college of mages how they were able to find out about something that happened not fifteen minutes ago, in this very city? Ye really don't belong here elf. Now, do yourself a favor, and go back to whatever forests ye soft-skins come from."

"There has to be something I can do to enter here, and I won't be going anywhere until I'm admitted"

The dwarf closes his eyes in consternation as he strokes his darkened beard "Fine. Listen Elf, your admission here is largely academic at this point. It just allows us to formally recognize you as a student. If you can impress any of the staff here to teach you something, or pay them well, you're free to do so, but they will deny havin' ever met ye the moment you leave. Now, if status bein' what yer after, there's a way to be earnin' that. There's been some vagabonds harassing the traders in an' outa Ispola for a time now. We be thinkin' one of da leaders got a hold of sometin he ain' supposed to have, and is doing some real damage. You deal with them, and we'll be takin' ya, no questions asked. Unless and Until ye be doing that, we 'ave nothin' more ta discuss, so off with ye"

You leave the spire confused and slightly pained, unsure of what to do now. Your day becomes all the more curious, as an elvish woman seems to have been waiting for you, approaching you as leave. She appears slightly elderly, by the standards of your people, meaning she is quite old in the eyes of anyone else. Her hair was completely and prematurely silver, while her face wears a regal beauty, rather than the eternal look of soft innocence that is common among the younger elves. She wears fine robes and holds a slender, perfectly smooth staff.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. The Academy's welcoming committee could use some improvement"

"Is he always like that?" You ask impetuously

"Oh, Ghlorim? No. He's actually worse. He didn't insult your mother, which is typical of him, so I'm told"

"I'm sorry, but can I help you?" Curious as to why she's bothering with you

"I believe, my young friend, that we are in the position to help each other. You want entry to the Academy of Ispola, to learn it's great magics and become a world renowned wizard. I want to help purge it of the infestation of vermin that has long plagued it." The choice of her words are confusing and disconcerting, given many have used such words just prior to engaging in acts of horror

"By that, do you mean..?

"Oh, not at all. Dwarves, Humans and the like can be perfectly reasonable creatures, so long as they bathe often enough. No, I mean to rid this place of all those who see these ancient walls and think of it as nothing more than a mercenary company with an impressive library, and I think you could help me with that. I'll train you to be a wizard they can't possibly ignore, in exchange for you doing exactly as I instruct"

"But what about their offer? The raiders?"

"My boy, use your clever mind for a moment. You have the greatest arcane minds in all the kingdoms, and they haven't done anything about. Now, this would mean it's really too trivial a matter to be any concern, or..."

"Or, it's a trap" You reply, morbidly

"Indeed. Now, I don't know which it is, but I do imagine you'll be better off dealing with me than this college of imposters." You feel her soft hand brush against your cheek as she starts to leave "Just, something to think about"

"Wait!" You shout, to which she responds, turning back towards you "What's your name?"

"Siobhan, but people in these areas are committed to calling me Sheeva. And what is your name?"

"Verigas" You state simply

"Very well, Verigas. I have some things to tend to, but find me come morning, if you're interested."