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[OOM: The Dark Portal is destroyed and the forces of Azeroth must seek shelter on the world of Draenor.]

The Door does not open.

Instead there's a flash of purple light in the form of concentric, oval rings. An older man in dusty blue and silver robes and holding a staff appears at the center of them and for a moment he looks terribly confused. His eyes start to glow the same shade of purple as he looks around, stopping when he spots the Window. The glow fades as his mouth falls open.

Then he grins. "Ha HA! I knew it! Modera owes me a drink!"

[OOC: Open all weekend!]

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"Both." Sinric shrugs. "My master freed me with his death but his son would not have honoured that promise, so I was forced to run."

"But I am compelled too by fate. It is my path to be the hand that guides greater men. To set two who I love dearly on the path to find each other. A debt and a gift both."

Freed? Oh. Well now he feels like an ass.

"I am glad you found something greater," Khadgar replies. "My apologies, I didn't realize you meant you were a slave when you said 'master'." He looks slightly chagrined.

He cocks his head. "What did you think I meant?" He asks curiously and without judgement. "You were not yourself a slave?"

"I-no. No, Master Medivh was my teacher. I was apprenticed to him to learn magic." And his secrets. And to get Khadgar out of Dalaran's hair.

Mages love solving multiple problems with one solution.

Edited 2018-01-16 13:44 (UTC)

"Ah, I see. So magic is a thing taught openly in your world? Is it magic one may learn or a gift one must be born to to gain?"

"It is openly taught. There's a school in Stormwind, but many seek the mage city-state of Dalaran for the best teachers. Almost all of the races can learn how to wield the arcane, though the cultures of some discourage it. They usually have their own magic traditions."

He thinks for a moment. "I believe only the tauren haven't taken up the practice."

"Truly? How wonderful." Sinric smiles. "When I am from, such gifts are rare and rarer still those who learn to use them. Those with such gifts are revered in some cultures and reviled in others."

He laughs a little, wry. "We're hardly revered. The night elves are still quite hostile to mages but even they've allowed practitioners back into their society."

"Night elves? I have met an elven lord here but I'm not sure if he is of the night or day. Or if his people make such distinctions."

"It should be easy enough to determine. What color was his skin and what color did his eyes glow? Well, really you could just tell me the eye color and I should be able to guess from that."

"His eyes are the grey of a stormy sky, with skin paler than mine."

"They glow grey?" Khadgar looks puzzled. "Not white? Or blue or green?"

"I did not see them glow at all. It is possible he is of a different race to those you have known. Many come here, from worlds unnumbered."

"Yes, I was about to suggest that. Every elf on Azeroth has glowing eyes, be they night, high, or blood. Night elves also have skin that ranges in color from blues to violet so it's easy to set them apart at a glance."

"How lovely." Sinric smiles. "There are stories of elves in the northern lands of my world. But I have not yet travelled there to see with my own eyes."

"Do you plan to?"

"One day. I know I will go north some years from now. But I may go there sooner. Or wait for the wind to guide me elsewhere. Wherever I'm needed."

"And how is that decided?" He's truly curious.

"Forces greater than myself. Perhaps the Fates themselves." he gives an elaborate shrug. "I often don't know why until after. It's enough for me to know there is a reason."

He's intrigued.

"What are the Fates? Is it similar at all to destiny?"

"They are the goddesses of destiny, the arbiter of the fate of all mortal beings. There are always three, no matter what culture they story comes from - one to spin the thread of a man's life, one to measure and weave it into the tapestry of creation. And one to cut it, to bring it's end."

"An interesting legend," he muses. "We have nothing like it. Destiny and fate are debated as to whether they exist at all. Certainly no god claims charge of it."

That last is particularly unusual. How would a god be in control of something like that?

"No legends of gods who play games with mortal men? Of how the world was made and where the lightning comes from?" He asks, curious more than concerned. It fascinates him how different worlds give meaning to themselves.

"The only gods who treat mortals as play things are the Old Gods. But no god created the world. The Titans ordered it, if that counts?" He seems confused but also intrigued. "And lightning comes from air elementals, of course."

"Will you tell me about your Titans and your old gods?"

Edited 2018-01-23 03:57 (UTC)