"When you dance with the Devil, the Devil don't change, the devil changes you" - Joaquin Pheonix as Max California in<u>8 mm</u><br/><br/>It is a world much like our own. It is the middle of the 18th Century, and the place is London England. The difference is that magic exists. Many common profession include some elements of magic, for instance a farmer might practice green magic and a sailor might practice blue. A sorcerer has mastered a single field of magic, a Magus has mastered two. There is only one Arch Magus, a master of all five kinds of magic, and s/he is known simply as The Dark Master.<br/><br/>S/he is thousands of years old, and long ago abandonded antiquated notions like gender or even species. S/he can be or appear as anything s/he likes. Being ancient s/he has had many apprentices in the past, but has not taken a new one in more than a century. Being the only known Archmagus, only s/he can tutor another like her/him.<br/><br/>Candidates from the white magic shool, who are anxious to vault over those above them and nieve enough to attempt to court the Dark Master have sent messages through intermediaries. After monthes of waiting each recieved a letter sealed in black wax under the Dark Master's glyff. The letter read as follows.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">Dear Applicant,<br/>
I am intrigued by your messages. It has been an age since I took an apprentice, and even longer since one came from the white school. I will entertain your request in person at the tavern of the Three Masts on tuesday at 9:30 in the evening. Dress in your best, how you appear and act will be pivitol to my ultimate decision.<br/>
DM​</div><br/>The tavern mentioned is in the worst part of London, the docks district. It is a place where people routinely disappear. It is filled with drunken sailors and reprobates of all description. The appointed day and hour has arrived, and the maidens stand outside this place. Their noses are filled with the scent of pitchtar and salt air. The place itself it aweful, a barely standing structure who paint has been pealed away by the salt air. Loud and bawdy music can be heard from the streets as well as laughter and revelry. They are the cusp of a decision, move forward or turn back...