<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><span style="color: #FF4000"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="text-decoration: underline"><div style="text-align: center;">King Allistair</div></span></span></span></span></span><br/><br/>Allistair pondered over what she said for a moment. If she didn't have a place of residence she crooked people out of their money. So perhaps if someone invested a bit of time into the elf, and offered her a home, she would stop, and perhaps even become a powerful ally.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF4000">"So what are your strengths then?" </span>He asked. It seemed off topic or as if he was toying with her before sending her off to the dungeon, but he had reasons for asking whether or not she was aware of them.<br/><br/>"My strengths?" she echoed. Why would he conceivably care? it was no matter.<br/><br/>"Well, magic for one. I had an apprenticeship once that never ran it's course. And I can scale buildings. Not exactly something that would come in handy often."<br/><br/>She paused, staring off at a wall, thinking. Nothing else in particular came to mind.<br/><br/>Magic was a start.<span style="color: #FF4000">"What kind of magic do you perform?"</span>He asked before smirking.<span style="color: #FF4000">"Besides the kind that requires you enchanting some cards to cheat people out of money."</span><br/><br/>He shifted his position again so that he was sitting up as he listened to her. Allistair wasn't the type to be able to sit still often, thus when he was sitting, he fidgeted a lot<br/><br/>"Illusions," she replied. "Making people see things that aren't really there. And fires. Different kinds of fires. I'd offer a demonstration if I could." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he kept moving in his seat.<span style="font-style: italic">Glad to see even royalty don't like to sit on their privileged arses all day.</span><br/><br/>Allistair thought about what she said and he was always looking for more mages. Mages were very valuable to have around, and if they wanted to be a combat mage, even more so.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF4000">"What if I could convince my archmage to take you on?" </span>He asked.<span style="color: #FF4000">"Think you would stop stealing from people?" </span>He asked her with a kind smile.<span style="color: #FF4000">"I hate to see people down on their luck, and I try to help whenever possible."</span><br/><br/>"You can't be serious." Eustella's brain ran through what he said at least thrice. "This must be some kind of trick. I'm not even a proper mage. Or from Scarborough. Or qualified in any capacity." She put her head in her hands, feeling an odd mix between irritation and relief.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF4000">"On the contrary I am completely serious. It is a win win should you decide to accept. You get off the street, you get to train in your magic like you wanted, I get another mage to add to my ranks, and my people aren't thieved from. Simple."</span>He said as he leaned back once more. He realized this could be a difficult decision for her.<span style="color: #FF4000">"You don't have to decide right away, I can give you time to think it over, but you're aware that I can't let you go back out into the streets knowing you were just stealing from my citizens correct?"<br/></span><br/>The prospect of  a dungeon was enough to send her into action.<br/><br/>"I'll do it."<br/><br/>It really was a win win, despite her own suspicions and utter disbelief. Although if she was going to stay, it would be a task to say the least to stay in once place for longer than a month. Regardless, she felt it worth the risk.<br/><br/>Allistair smiled at her acceptance.<span style="color: #FF4000">"Wonderful. Just to be fair, you will be watched for a time to ensure your loyalty, and I shall have to have my Archivist draw up a contract in the mean time, but as soon as that's over it should all be smooth sailing."<br/></span><br/><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111501">@Aria</a><br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF00"><span style="font-family: Lucida Calligraphy;"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="text-decoration: underline"><div style="text-align: center;">Harold the Archivist</div></span></span></span></span><br/><br/>The mere presence of Gabriel seemed to unsettle Harold to the point of being visibly tense. He wasn't afraid of his brother, nor did he hate him, they simply had varying views. He loved his brother dearly, he just knew how dangerous the man's powers tended to be, and he also had figured out over the years that when Gabriel came around, so did trouble. It ran with Gabriel's line of work. Either that, or there was someone that had gotten him into trouble again and he was running to Harold to get him out of it once more.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00FF00">"G-Gabriel...." </span>He stammered as he turned his head to look at him in shock.<span style="color: #00FF00"> "What in the name of the gods are you doing here? Did a guard let you in?" </span>He asked concerned for his brother's freedom. It wasn't often they tended to just let people waltz in the front gates into the castle. He was asking to get arrested.<br/><br/>Upon him pointing out Earl, Harold changed subject from how he got here to his son who made him swell with pride.<span style="color: #00FF00">"This is my son Earl." </span>He told him with a happy smile.<span style="color: #00FF00">"He's such a good boy. A very talented and skilled young man. Earl, this is your Uncle Gabriel."</span>He introduced the two.<br/><br/><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=110674">@thetruegarsot</a><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=796">@BunnyMama</a>