<b>Re: The Magician's Apprentice (Leaquad, Qedesha, doom)</b><br/><br/>The sound that comes from the mouth of the crone seems like a laugh, but not. There are very few teeth in her mouth, and the ones that are there are black. Her dirty and unkept face and body seem dim and worn out. The voice, though, the voice clearly doesn't belong to this body, or any body it is practically otherworldly.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#0000ff">"The School of White is not here, you are Tabitha. What you are here for doesn't include them, and if you think it does you should just leave now."</span><br/><br/>The Dark Master reclines in the body of the crone, a disguise s/he used often. S/he looked over the yound white sorceress appreciatively, she was young and ripe, exactly as DM liked them. S/he licked her lips in anticipation of tasteing this ripe young body. First, there should be a test.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#0000ff">"What you want here is what I have, the power over primal magic, the magic I learned all those thousands of years ago which has become segmented by small minded men and women. What I offer is true power, true magic, and it is what you want. For this I demand a high price, a five hundred year vow of servitude, absolute servitude. You will be mine, your body, mind, and soul will belong to me to do with as I please. If you do anything without permission, or refuse me in anyway, it will be my option to punish you or to rend the vow and strip you of all magic. While you contemplate this, a test. Walk out into the center of this room and remove every stitch of clothing. Return to this table naked as the day you were born or do not return at all. Do not worry none will touch you without my permission."</span><br/><br/>The crone stares hard at his/her prospective Apprentice. The stare is almost a dare, as if the crone doesn't believe she will comply.