Its been almost a year now since I started the decision to clean my Laboratory.

And Today I actually did it.
Ok, understandably, I tend to out things off, and then when I do get the spell books out to cast the spell, I find some kind of missing ingrediant, or some aspect that I've not yet written in bat blood, its always something.

But three days whence, I just said.. to the 7th level of Nathgul with it, and I just sat down and drew out the runes. The following morning, I summoned up the lesser imps, cast spells of control and then forced them to initiate the rites of Chistie.
Finally by the afternoon I had finished the exhauting process, and the winds of change came into the tower, and swept away all the dust, grime, dirt and mess. They set things right, sorted the books on my shelves, cleaned out the bags of holding, Set things in motion.

After a full day of cleaning, the spirits settled, and I found myself looking at some specific piles that .. just didn't fit in.  As it turned out, the spirits were right. They were a small bag of things that belongs to the cleaner, a pile of books that are not mine, and some notes and niknaks about long lost loves.

The thought began to form.. Is this all that my life is? accrued things? things that need to be sorted, cleaned and understood?

It was then I that I realise my ghosts had not sorted my magic desk, ,.. the magic was far too strong to get in and sort things out like this.. I would have to do it myself. manually.. for the next 400 years by the look of the piles of papers, scrolls and ingrediants..

Stronger magic is needed it would seem.

In all these years, living in this city of Elves, surrounded by Various forms of elven life and the inhabitants of this particular city, Its all still so very new..

So much so, that even a thing like being robbed, which might normally cause such heartache and despair, instead, facinates me.

Dark elves are considered by most people in this city to be nothing but rapists, theives, drunkards and vagabonds. typically the Elven community treats them as scum, lowlife, nothing but a blight upon the city. Many Elves I speak to, wish to have them erased from the city. eradicated or evicted.

I usually find them to be a fairly jovial group, not dissimilar to Any Sunlit country. Yet today I understand why they would be treated so badly.

The true thieves.

Any given race, people, class or group are judged by their highest and lowest denominators. and whats more frequent. The Dark Elves are treated like scum, because there happens to be a large class of scum amongst them. The Guildless Theives.

The Thieves guild is a very clever association. they let you know that the standard person gets robbed at least once a year. This once, usually results in a loss of a few coins, maybe  nice bracelet your wearing and a brusied rib or eye. So, in some strange twisted wisdom, going to the local guild, paying them a few coins and having a large bully smack you one in the gob, gives you a small leather pouch, with a symbol burnt into it, This is your wallet for the year. No theif, in the guild at least, will rob you of this purse, once spotted, the theif will choose to rob someone else instead.

Not so for the Dark Elves.

The Dark Elves have no guild, no guide, no generosity, and all guile.

I was robbed once by a young guild theif, he snatched my purse from my very pocket, and prompty turned around and appologised, he hadn't seen the new guild pouches, but quickly recognised the symbols, returned to me and handed the pouch over.

So this night, as I walked home from the Technomancers house, I dropped into a moneylender and acquired 3 cold coins and 5 silvers, signed my name for it. I had planned a night with the daughter of an Elven house of repute and wished to take her to a oceanic pectopah for a delicious meal. It was her day of birth and I wished to celebrate with her. I also went to the night markets as usual, as they sell some less common fruits and things that should remain in the cold of night, rather than the warmth of day.

As I left this market square, two dark elves approached me, friendly enough, they wished to ask where the locale of the tavern known as 'cooks' would be. I did not know, and told them so.. but they recgnised my accent .. I had forgotten to cast a language spell and was relying on my own studies, and with my hands full of slowly melting fruits, I was not ready to do so.

Suddenly, they were best friends, they loved the lands of the Sand and Sun and were hoping one day to take the great trip there themselves. they heartily congratulated me, invited me to the tavern to which they were going, and tried to insist. I in my foolish eagerness to be friendly, excused myself, as I was eager to home, and needed sleep. they became rather annoyed that they could not make my aquaintence, and one insisted on a hug goodbye. I was unable to refuse, with my packages in my arms, and so I was forced to be hugged by this shorted stout elf. He and his friend bid me goodbye and I stepped up to a cart runner and asked if I could take a ride with him. he shrugged yes, and I put down my bags and cast a quick languages spell so we could communicate my way.. it was then that I noticed my pouch was gone.

I looked quickly to the street, but it was gone. The cartboy said he saw them run off down the street, and would give chase.. but I understood that this would cost me money I probably did not have.

Almost Penniless, I charmed the cartboy to ride me to my house for a mere copper coin, that I had stiched in my pantline. he did so and appologised for not being more aware, so he could have helped. I thanked him for his time and suggested a good place to find other travellers at this time of night so he may earn more money and grudginly climbed the tower.

My maid, now gone from my services, my household companions travelling on the trade carts to the Lands of the Sun god, I was home, alone. and while the companion of an elven maiden was on my mind.. I was just so shocked and curious about what had happened, so instead I drew out my crystal ball and did something I have not done in many many years,

I summoned up the image of my family home, and communicated feelings of coming home to my family.. my mother looked up to the sky, as it was day there, and knowingly nodded.

Fedocian Farcry is in the Great city. After our less than pleasant mage combat, he has calmed down far more about my actions in the clockmasters.

But something happened that never occured to me, Katishka has also returned.

As I left the clockworks, I momentarily spied the familiar scent of a magecaster, her orange scarf floated in the winds around her neck as she rode the winds, awaiting someone. I instantly understood for whom she waited and rode my own winds down into the streets below.

but, As I entered the late night markets, true that they can be a danger, even to one such as I, but I needed food now that my housemistress has finally understood that she is no longer welcome, and I am again alone. So I entered the market stalls, and came face to face with the enchntress herself.

She stopped short, almost as surprised as I.

We stood there, eye to eye for a full minute. unsure as to what exchange would take place.

Be it the magic that she had cast upon me still lingering deep within my soul, or be it real love that remained, I told her that I missed her, I desired her, I wanted her, I needed her.. she laughed. "Foolish man, you think yourself a great mage in these lands, but you fool yourself more than you fool others" but in that instant, a glint in her eye suggested hurt, pain. It reminded me of a long lost love.. one not of desire, but of real love.. I had it at last, I found the tap-well-spring from which this spell was cast..

"my sister!," I exclaimed.. "you used my love for my sister to fuel this enchantment" 

she looked at me, a little hurt, "well, if you say so" and walked.

I was free... or so I thought.. I could understand how this enchantment was still here all this time.. and finally I could unravel it.

I went home, relieved that I had found a key at last, one in which I could slowly unravel this curse.. but sometimes, I ask myself now.. was I supposed to.


Its many months now, and I've talked with some seers, some watcher women, and some elven ladies who feel enough comfort with me to explain these things.. and There seems to be one vital flaw in all of this..

Elven women do not cast such spells lightly.. yes, sometimes they have misguided reasons to cast the spell, and the choices they make are as falible as human women.. more-so it seems sometimes. But in the end, there is reason in their madness.

I understood this much at least. Ice Elven women, want passion, emotion, fire, inside their men. mostly I think because there is none visible. so in order to gain this feeling like their men BURN for them... they cause problems, they smash things, fight, and kick the man out into the street. The man, dusts himself off, and goes back for more punishment. They have to start to heat up, in order to get back in, to fight against this crazed women, she kicks them out, again and again and again, until the heat is so hot, it warms their frozen hearts, and they make love like they have never done before.

Maybe I'm wrong.

But The heat of the Desert still burns in my soul, regardless of the closing snow and ice, and I haven't really given my maidens a chance to be like this for me.. except Katishka. Katishka and I became a little complacent. I understood that maybe due to my lack of real involvement I felt out of place in her life, I was as of yet unable to speak her language, communicate with her father or daughter, and all the burden was placed upon her. I began to sit with my spell book and pore over dwarven runes, waiting for the next step. This for her was like an Elven man, closing down and freezing over.. so she challenged me, pushed me away, waiting for the heat to come..

but it never did.

The Burning Ones have so much fire, that when we argue, we do not simply warm up, we burn with such intense heat, that our souls are partly consumed in the fire, each and every fight between mates, burns us apart, it can be so intense that both people will simply die inside, and end up becoming mere zombies. I have seen with my own eyes, couples, so burnt out, they do not have the energy to have anything to say about anything, they exist together, not because they desire it, but they are mere zombies.

In my life, I saw my parents burn so intensly that I too began to combust, I struck out with my childlike flames at them, but my inability to direct my magic, meant that instead of a general zone of warmth or a heat spell, I let fly with a fireball at my own mothers head  though I would have preferred it towards my father, who was the source of all this anger.

So as an Adult, I resolved to control my fires, my magic, I guess this is why I am a Mage today, and not just a coalburner. I adore to absorb lore on the arts of magic and spells, be they subtle or explosive. Echantment or Illusion.

While my parents did this, any many do, its not considered normal, people avoid it, control it, or learn to clear it in other ways, so they do not hurt those around them..

Not the Elves, it seems.

So, when a young elven maiden would try to get a rise out of me, I step back, explain that this behaviour is not acceptable, not desireable, and I personally cannot participate, I step away. She does not apoologise, so I go on my way and wonder why it happened so..

Or at least I used to.. Now.. now.. I am beginning to understand.

Life is such a learning process...

So, I discovered something new about the culture of the Elves.

I'm not sure what to assume about your knowledge of elves and their culture. I once talk to a man who made references to a far off world he came from and that elves there were imprisoned slaves to a great immortal master, who demanded every day a manufactured sculpture of the elves, depicting some ancient ritualistic totem. These were sacrificed each year to a small group of eldar spirits in deer form. As a result of the toll, these elves had began to shrink in stature.

In other stories, elves are immortally long lived majestic folk who are the guardians of magic and stand tall and proud. they guard over ancient arts and ancient concepts lest the humans use them to endanger the worlds.

These stories are all fanciful concepts. based on truth, but corrupted stories over time. True that the elven folk seem more attractive and more genteel than most. and their nature is far more forgiving and accepting. I have seen many an elven princess step gracefully over a homeless bomzh, without batting an eyelid. This also gives rise to the idea that elves are aloof. they are very proud and very standoffish, in general, because quite honestly they deal with so many problems that unless you are obviously not a problem, AND are of a curiosity, they simple do not have the time to deal with every little hassle. To step over the homeless street person is far easier than to have anything to do with his plight, lest you be pulled down into the gutter with him.

Elves don't live long rich lives. or at least not in the cities. They do live longer than humans on average, and provided they are placed in a calm, natural surrounds with little effort, they can live far longer than we could ever imagine. but the harsh life of the city takes such a greater toll on the elves, that they age far faster than humans ever would. by 40 an elf looks as if they are ready to retire.. like a 60 yr old human. and by 50.. oh the elf looks as if life has dealt him a terrible blow and begins to appear as an 80yr old human.

The rare elf that I've met over 100, are not from the city originally and live out in the country far more often than not. They spend their entire summers living amongst the trees, swimming, fishing, gardening. Its the culture of the Elf to rejoin to nature. they also Look alot younger than most.

But.. thats not my topic. today I talk instead of the nature of the elven worker.

I talk , of my housekeeper. She has been a good woman these last few years, looking after me, caring for my room, my place, making sure everything is clean. But when, on those few occasions, that I take long walks with an attractive young elven lady, I come home late. she chides me, quite vehemantly, and I find myself quite put out.

So I set myself the task to have a talk with her.

She does not speak Elleslandic as I, nor do I speak Lithlorien as does she, so it was not fully understood that I did not approve of her comments. When she did it again, I spoke to her again of this problem. she simple misunderstood and went about her business as per usual.

So I decided it was time for her to move on. I told her that I no longer required her, her services, her advice etc. and that she should pack her things and go.

She was so shocked, she cried. she cried and cried until I consoled her.. and then she smiled and got on with her job.

A week later I asked her if she was arranging where she would move to.
She looked at me with shock.. and burst into tears again. she had misunderstood me, and had not arranged anything of the sort. she was staying.. then she stopped crying, told me not to do it again, and chided me for being so cruel.

A further week, and I was unable to understand what had happened. I asked what was she to do? she told me in no uncertain terms that I was to see a doctor of the mind, and stop this nonsense. she was staying. and If I wanted her to leave she would require that I speak to her parents about the matter.

As it turns out. Elvish house servants are hired for life. they give up their worldly possesions, their property and such and come live with their new master. Until such a time that they are too old to move, or their master dies and leaves them a small retirement pension.

Again, I had stumbled into an Elven custom that got me into trouble..  what am I to do now?

I've discovered something strange and amazing. Theres a man lost in my little world.

I dont know how he got there. Dimensional rift possibly, spell gone wrong, portal opened at wrong place. but distinctly there is a small man in my world. As my world exists in a semi-state of existance, reality has yet to be shifted to a plane of matter, his mind is adrift in aspects of the world.. but he's conciously aware of his existance at the least.

I only noticed because a concious mind in a semi-concious universe, can create existance of objects... and I knew that I didn't create the frost dragon. So I tracked down the source of the object, and lo and behold.. a conciousnes existed.

I say tracked down, but really I just concentrated my crystal on the world and looked for anything that seemed out of the ordinary.. and footprints in the snow, where no-one exists, is most definately in-ordinary.

I adjusted the temperature to see if I could find him, It was a blizzard of snow. but accidentaly turned it up too much. then when it had cooled down, I could not find any trace of him. His footprint were all that previously existed.

I could cool it down again, but that would defeat the purpose of my world. So.. I hope that he's ok.

poor lost man.

s to my own life, There has been some kind of Mystick Energy Problem here in the Order of Mechanima Agents, and I've been asked not to come in so often as they cannot spare the time. This causes me concearn as I have less students already and now even less again. while I can survive on the meagre income that I gain, I require more than living costs. I require crystals to secure my existance in this world. Else I will be sucked back into my own world at a moments notice.. all my worldly things left here,

Such is the nature of a Spellcaster, forever bound to his homeworld.