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[Bailos]

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As far as fall evenings go, there wasn't too much to complain about for Grigori as he went about tidying up the Abjuration section of the Lyceaum's vast library, his hard day's study complete. Grigori was a fouth year student at the school and had been putting the finishing touches on what would be his trademark work during his study and surely earn him an apprenticeship with a respectable enchanter!

The dusty tomes he buried his nose in just a few minutes earlier were now neatly stacked back on their shelves seeming to enjoy being back at rest amongst its peers...at least as much as a book can. Rounding up his scrolls and personal notes, he scooped them into his satchel, albeit in an orderly fashion, and slung the canvas bag over his shoulder giving his study area a final once-over for rogue parchment. Satisfied he had everything he came with he turned around with a look on his face combining self-satisfaction and fatigue caused by reading "Abjuration and You" one too many times. As he casually made for the door he noted an extremely well dressed man at the front desk, just out of earshot, asking the desk clerk for some information. Almost as if on queue, as Grigori neared the station, the attendee pointed to him and could be heard to say, "Well he's just right over there."

"Thank you", the well-dressed man said as he quietly set a 5-mark gold-coin on the desk and slide it over to the grateful clerk. He then made his way over to Grigori in a straight line. The man wasted no motion, taking deliberate steps only where he needed to and not swinging his arms about as if on a stroll. No, this man was here for a purpose. And judging by the confidence of his walk, his posture and the demeanor with which he carried himself it was likely he knew full well what the purpose was. As Grigori's expression faded from fatigued happiness to apprehensive curiosity took up a defensive position intentionally placing a heavy oak study-chair between himself and the path of the stranger. "My name is Marcus Demnevani", said the well-dressed man he abruptly stopped on the other side of artificial barrier, "I own five stores in three cities, manage 120 employees and control over 450 million in assets of the finest metallurgical and magical specimens of weapons and armor in the world. I have two openings to study one-on-one with my best enchanters. I want to pick your brain for a bit and then I want to know when you start."

Blinking once, half deliberately and half out of shock, Grigori inhaled to stammer out an answer but before he could the man raised his hand and continued. "Before you answer, yes you would have to move. Yes we have lodging for you. Yes you would be paid but not well considering we are giving you room and board and training you under some of the greatest minds in all the facets. Yes I would be your boss. Yes you would need a haircut and finally, no, you don't need to be proficient with any smithing implements."

With his lips tightly pursed, Grigori swallowed and the stereotypical 'lump' rolled down his throat. He was excited and slightly in disbelief but he was at that moment too terrified to give any hint at something that might disappoint this man to even speak at all. Finally, with an almost blank look, he was able to meekly reply, "I um. I guess I can start tomorrow. If um...I gu-...I suppose I should clear that with someone first. Maybe."

"I talked to everyone that matters on this subject." the man stated rather matter-of-factly. "I thought you'd be interested so my aides are gathering your things for you now. They will meet us at the boat. Let's go take a walk through the hedges until they are ready."

What supreme confidence this man exercised, Grigori thought to himself. To be able to just walk in here, toss his weight around, expect nothing less than total cooperation and then on top that, to get it. Wow. I want that. It was now, while they were on their walk to the hedges that Grigori finally got a real good chance to size this man up and actually look at him. The situation had happened and hit him so fast that he scarcely knew he was in Moonglow, let alone pick up anything about the visitor.

The stranger who introduced himself as Marcus Demnevani stood slightly shorter than Grigori at about 5'10" but he was extremely well built. Broad shoulders, strong neck...His clothing covered most of the rest of the details but this Marcus was slightly barrel-chested. Not the type of chap you'd want to tussle with in a bar-brawl. He wore an expensive looking white silk shirt, the ends of which were pinned by what appeared to be Verite cuff-links with some black stone set in them. Over top of this was a rich, purple colored doublet that was most definitely tailored to his form. The rest didn't look to cheap either, a durable, black, full-length pair of pants and some fine, leather boots topped off the apparel. Grigori kept looking him over trying to see if he was wearing armor as well-to-do merchants often become concerned for their own well being, but this Marcus was not wearing any. Grigori got passed the clothing and made note of several pieces of jewelry, all of which probably cost more than his own net worth...if not a couple times over. On his left hand, Marcus wore a large, gold band with an expensive setting and large reg gem. The band was beset with several insignias and while he couldn't be positive, Grigori was fairly sure it was the mark of Sanctus. On the right hand, Marcus was wearing a silver band with a strange design in what might have been Valorite, raised from the flat surface...it was one serpent, forming a circle with the head eating the tail. This guy liked to dress well.

Superficial elements aside, this Marcus had some distinct features about him. His skin was a bit darker than most. He might have been from Occlo, or Jhelom. He had no hair to speak of on his head but his eyebrows and a well-cared-for goatee suggested that his hair color was something of a reddish-blond, although his had been tempered with some gray. The two talked as they walked the hedges. Marcus quizzed him on some of his work. Sometimes the man would ask leading questions about work habits and general knowledge, trying to carefully place mental traps but probably deliberately not making them too difficult to see. Other times he would ask off-the-cuff questions, some of them personal. Marcus wanted to know about family, about friends, about relatives.

They neared the center of the hedge maze now. The rows standing a good two feet above either of their heads, blocking out much of the evening sun. They came to a clearing with a pair of benches and a small birdbath and Grigori went to have a seat and take a brief rest. Marcus folded his hands behind his back and stepped over to the birdbath, looking down in contemplation over the calm waters. "So, when did you want me to start exactly, you said?" stammered Grigori.

"Oh, we're ready for you now. I was very much intending for you to come back with me when I left today." Marcus stated. "You don't have much for family and your studies keep you to but a few friends. I remember the life of student."

The man was right, but Grigori was a wee bit dejected about having his social issues aired by this visitor. "And will I be working on projects, or just my own thing, or what?", Grigori inquired.

"We have some specific tasks for you in mind, but as long as you need to learn the work and do it well...don't push yourself in to artificial deadlines" assured Marcus.

Going off his employer's statement, Grigori quizzed back, "Speaking of which, how long will this program last?"

"Well there is something you should know. Our organization puts you in an interesting position", Marcus added. He turned from the birdbath and faced Grigori with a stoic expression, "I guess you could say you would be 'in for life'."

"Wh...What? B-", Grigori tried to sputter a few words together, but his brain was working a lot quicker than his lips were. "I have school to finish. I have two years left! I have a business to open! I have family! I have a girlfriend!"

"I wouldn't worry about that too much. People will miss you for awhile, but they will know you are in excellent hands and will wish you the best." Marcus stepped closer and let his hands drop to his sides, continuing, "All physical traces of you are coming with us, and all the people who need to know what happened to you, have been given all the proper evidence to not need to assume anything. They'll be sorry to not see you for awhile, but they'll have sufficient time to forget about you altogether."

Somewhat flabbergasted, Grigori braced himself on the bench, placing both hands palm down on the wood beneath him. He looked for words to respond with, frantically scanning for signs that this was a prank, but the straight-faced demeanor of the stranger assured him it was not. He locked eyes with Marcus and furrowed his brow and stood up to offer what protest his could and "politely decline" this little offer. He pushed himself up, the wood creaking slightly from the strain, and straightened up nice and tall. He closed his eyes for just a moment and inhaled deeply...who wouldn't be hesitant about turning down what he thought would be his dream job? As his eyes opened, he locked eyes with Marcus just in time to catch a brief glimpse of the bolt of energy that connected from the man's hand to Grigori's chest. He didn't blink. Niether did Grigori.

His mind was flooded with pain as the eldritch blast ripped into him, imparting far more force, energy and pain than he'd ever experienced! Grigori blacked out and came too shortly after, face up on the ground. He wasn't too sure if the hedges a few feet behind him helped to break the impact. He began to try and roll over. It was then he knew the hedges did nothing to stop the force and it was instead probably the stone wall in between the rows. His entire body was wracked with agony but slowly the anguish began to fade. He finally got enough of his wherewithal to look around and there, on the bench sat Marcus looking down at him with his hands on his knees and straight-faced as ever.

"Wh...where am I? W-....What happen-?" Grigori choked out. After a briefly coughing fit, Grigori began to feel a bit cold. Using up a surprising amount of energy, he was able to prop his neck up a bit and look down at himself. He saw most of his robes burnt away where the blast struck him, square in the gut. Speaking of guts, he also got an eyeful of what probably used to be his large intestine. Seems the bolt struck him a little too squarely.

The man looked down at the boy, "I wouldn't worry too much. It's nothing that can't be fixed" and he stood up, over top of Grigori.

Now feeling very cold and looking very pale, Grigori relaxed his head and at barely more than a whisper he was able to ask the stranger, "Am....am I. I-....I think I'm dying."

"Yes. Yes child you are." Bailos answered as he looked down. He turned his left palm to face the boy, his hand still crackling with the strange, eldritch force that he used to destroy this boy, to reveal the burnt brand of The Ebon Skull. "Today you have fallen to the Wraith Lord. And today you will rise in his service."

"I-....", Grigori tried to whimper something but started choking briefly on his own blood.

Bailos interrupted him, "Shh, don't talk now. You'll be dead soon. And then...then we'll have forever to talk."