As if we weren't in formation, muttered the Dragonkin under his breath, careful to make sure that his instructor would not be able to hear him. Kafsi was not against the drills and all, but it was tedious is all. There were not many opportunities-- or in his opinion, not enough of them-- to show this new skills and talents off, show off the Wings blessed by Ysgosif. That, and using magic gave him a headache. Just didn't seem like killing someone should be that complicated.

The drills went on for another hour or so before the commander finally gave the relieving work. "That will suffice for the day. Before you all head off, remember not to get drunk again like last time. The council has been breathing in my neck over that incident and if it happens again, you lot will be paying for it." The formation broke up, most soldiers setting down their weaponry and getting back to their own duties.

"Finally." the soldier next to Kafsi spoke. "Any plans?"

---

"Hm, sure. You'd want to go to the mages guild. They're located at the edge of the citadel plaza." The innkeeper shook his head. "They're all a bunch of stuck up snot noses if you ask me. Too much time spent reading books, not enough time doing work. Though they do help out from time to time."

It was a pretty bland room. A hay matress, covered with a fur rug, on a stone bed. The room was made out of stone, which was warm to the touch due to the (probably not health) indoor fire.

Some time later, Lucem fund himself wandering into a plaza much more likely to be to his liking. Clean marble slate as ground and pillars rising from the earth to support the massive figure of the citadel set in the middle. Around it, many magnificent buildings stood tall. With unusual arching figures and bows. Perhaps a long time from now, one could call this a post-modernist version of roman architecture. It did let shimmer through just how develloped this city was.

One building was set with an octogram, with in the midst of it an eye, made out of crystal. For Lucem, it was clear this represented the eight elements and the 'third eye' in reference to the way one can perceive mana with no obvious physical means to do so. The building self was massive, with a few towers beset on its octagon-shaped building.

Crossing a courtyard before entering the marvellous building, Lucem was met with a grand lobby bustling with live. Many robed scholars rushed past hence and forth with scrolls and books containing ancient, yet profound and recent secrets of the arcane. At the midst of the lobby, a grand ebonite statue raised in honour of the citadel overlord. He was depicted holding a great tome, with wavering robes revealing plate armour below. His face obscured by a mask. Strings of magicka dancing behind him. It seemed like these people really admired the so called overlord. The plaque at the base of the statue seemed to somewhat explain why.

"The god whose curiosity proceeded his father, unravelling the magic of arcane. His magic breathing life into desolation, his sword bringing order to chaos. Our god of virokind." They were referring to this demigod like he was a full-fledged god become flesh. With the previous display of power and absurd speed of development, it was no wonder they seemed to praise him as a god of virokind. But one could only wonder the how's and why's behind all this.

And someone from the future might think... Where did it all go?

Quite quickly, Lucem's eyes met with those of a scholar who seemed to be performing some kind of writing work. He looked like he had a position of power here.