"Alright everyone, get to your places" Theresa ordered the circle of mages who hastened to obey. They stood on an elevated wooden platform looking out at the walls of Mountainhold Fortress. A large series of concentric circles were burnt into the wood. At the center of the ritual there was a circle big enough for one person. The next circle out had four circles burnt into the wood at each of the cardinal directions and ones burnt in halfway between each cardinal direction for a total of eight evenly spaced circles on the second ring. The third ring had 16 even circles and the fourth and final ring had 32. On the inside and outside of every circle, big and small, there were runes that had been engraved into the wood.

Theresa took her place at the center of the mage-array that would channel power from the world and from her fellow mages into her body - the vessel. The next circle of mages held the eight most powerful mages present after Theresa, with the outer third and fourth circles holding everyone else.

"Okay people, lets rehearse one more time, and then get this show going," Theresa called once she saw that everyone had taken their assigned circles. "I will act as the primary channel and the vessel to direct the effect and-"

Dorman, the war-mage who had ridden in the other day, took over for her, "I will channel exothermic potential and focus on the effect of the spell."

"I will act as the primary focus for energies," Gloria added next.

"I will monitor the health of participants and shield us from the blow-back effect of chaotic potential" James added his part next.

"And I will be responsible for charging the energy that passes through, directing it and providing a smooth stream to the Vessel" this was the task assigned to George.

"We will provide the raw potential channeled from the outer rings" Spoke the four mages in between the cardinal mages, in the same tone and at the same time.

"We will provide the raw potential" spoke the 40 mages in the outer two rings.

"And so it begins" Theresa intoned, centering herself and beginning to draw in her own stores of Potential...

The Front, Castle Mountainhold

"Gerald, looks like they've started" Daniel, who had been watching for that very reason, said.

"Excellent. Are the secondary mages in place?" Gerald asked a herald mage to his side.

"Aye milord, they have already begun to play with the potential in the area." Mage herald Timothy Vayne responded placidly.

"What is the purpose of that, Scholar Vayne?" Asked Daniel who knew they had but to wait for the signal. Both Theresa and Gerald - who had seen this spell used before - had told everyone they wouldn't be able to miss it.

"A grand working like the one the inner circle mages are performing are easily detected. Mages from a continent away will feel the after affects of what we do here today. The outer circle of mages who are playing with the native potential in the air are shielding the inner circle from interference. The enemy will be able to tell that we are performing a grand working of some kind, but because of how many we have fucking around they wont be able to pinpoint it easily." Timothy spoke easily to the nobility - he had been a noble once himself, and Daniel found he liked the affable man. It also explained why Gerald had picked him as his permanent herald for the campaign.

Daniel believed the man, but noticed one critical flaw that he doubted escaped the scarily intelligent Theresa attention. He assumed they had handled it some how, but wanted to know so he asked, "That's amazing. But, uh, can't they just see the whopping giant wooden platform?"

Timothy chuckled darkly, "Aye, they should be able to see it easily. Unfortunately for them we have an Archmage, and Master Scholar Theresa shielded the entire working from their sight. To them it is just a stand of trees where we keep our baggage."

Both Gerald and Daniel joined Timothy in his dark laughter as they waited for the spell to reach it's critical phase.

Theresa, Mage Relay, Inner Circle

At the center of her being, the core of who she was, Theresa felt the universe bloom. She viewed herself, as if beyond her own mortal coil and looking down on the flesh - her vessel. And it was so, for the body of man could only host one vessel - one soul - and so she had to step beyond herself to make room for the Sacred Arts. Her soul floated free of any tether, no safety net to draw her back to the coil that began to froth with wild energy. A look of pure ecstasy, of hate, of savage unbridled delight was pasted on her face. The potential in her body, that inhabited where her soul normally sat, had such effects.

This was a sacred secret, denied to all but those who achieved the same heights that she and her father had. To become the apex, you had to surrender yourself to the Potential - and master it. The will of the universe. The echo of eternity. None but the Archmagi of the world could use their body as a vessel. None but the Archmagi knew of it. Never was it written, never passed in word. Such tactics of knowledge would be worse than useless, it would be detrimental to those who aspired to the path.

And yet Theresa knew that it was but the first step on a long road to eternity. She knew in her heart that the road was endless. She knew her father had taken a second, and maybe even a third step on the road. Few knew the power that Tika held, few knew that the ultimate expression of the Scholar - a fist full of potential - was but a pale imitation.

Oh. My mind wandered there for a moment, and I almost lost myself to it...

Theresa flexed her will and managed to center herself once more. She knew the apathy she felt was a side-effect of being detached from the hormones and chemicals that ruled her body. The soul was not an innately emotional or rational thing. At its core, the soul was just an unguided blob of potential. The only thing separating her soul from the soul of a rock was the medium by which the soul was housed.

"Theresa, it's time" called Dorman, and she heard the strain in his voice as the sound propagated through space and time, each second leaving behind an impression, changing the very world around him in small, irrelevant, but monumental ways.

"ANd sO it Is. And SooO ItTt ShALl Be. anD. so. it. Was" Theresa called out, her voice echoing from the beyond and distorting space and time around her. The mere act of speaking had become more than the act itself could signify. Though they were merely waves of sound generated by the vocal folds in Theresa's throat. But what they signified was what mattered. The will. The intent to act upon the world and be acted upon intern. A direction for the soul of the world to follow, and like a chemical driving a human soul to mate, the will of the world surrendered.

Theresa-who-was-not lifted her hands, a violent wave and a gentle caress. Theresa lifted her hand and felt the echo of eternity, and potential became reality. Theresa, who had become fascinated by the propagation of sound waves echoing through space belatedly remember to anchor her soul to her body with a sheepish green.

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Timothy Vayne, The Front

"Gods..." Vayne whispered while he, Gerald, and Daniel watched a violent crimson and gold light erupt from the mage circle, striking the wall and evaporating the stone before continuing on to strike the second wall and then the third before eventually washing over the donjon and burning a hole clean through to strike against the mountain where it petered out.

"Wow," Daniel said in awe as the world seemed to release its collective breath and sound returned to the mountain top. "We're lucky it didn't go through the mountain..." he commented idly as Gerald blew a horn, signaling the offensive to begin.

"Not so much lucky as incredibly hard M'lord," Timothy said, and Daniel looked at him quizzically. "Well the world has a soul of it's own doesn't it? Now individually a rock or in this case a wall isn't really connected to the world is it? So it's potential is rapidly exhausted. That mountain has roots deep into the world and is connected so in order for Master Scholar Theresa to pierce a mountain, she would need an exponentially larger number of mages channeling the potential."

"Oh. Well that's a good thing, isn't it?" Daniel offered as they followed Gerald forward and into the shadow of the fortress.

"Very much so. Otherwise the entire continent might become a wasteland. The world offers potential freely, but resists mightily when one tries to change it's nature. That's why you shouldn't trust people who can promise to turn lead to gold!" Timothy laughed and Daniel grinned in response.

"Lets go gentlemen, there's work to be done," Gerald called roughly and kicked his mount into a gallop...

Forty Minutes Later, Outer Bailey, Mountain Hold Fortress

"Lord, they have managed to create a barricade in the breach," Captain Henderson informed Gerald who sat observing the rough stone wall that had seemingly risen.

"That is definitely the work of their own mages Lord Hart." Timothy added from behind, "They used a spell to gather debris and mold it into that bulwark."

"I see. Is there anything you can do about it?" Gerald asked Timothy who paused to consider.

"Probably not, not by myself. I am dead sure that they had to have at least three mages to perform the working that quickly," Timothy scratched his chin idly as he considered the issue. "If we can summon some mages from the outer circle here we should be able to counter as it stands, but I would bet gold against copper that they're thinking the same thing. Unless Master Scholar Theresa managed to hit the entire enemy magery cadre with her working, they'll continue to reinforce that section of wall against sword and sorcery. Let me consult Dorman," and with that Vayne went quiet for a moment as he tapped on the thread in his mind and established the potential to both hear and speak to Dorman from a mile away.

"Vayne, what is it?" Dorman's tired 'voice' echoed in Vayne's ears.

"They've reestablished a bulwark with mage-melded stone. Lord Hart is considering a charge and wants to know if there is a response from your mage corps that can provide a satisfactory solution," Daniel watched Vayne's mouth move, but heard no sound.

"That's eerie" Daniel muttered. Gerald, who was well used to mages by this point, just chewed on the stem of his unlit pipe and waited.

"Uhh... Fuck it, I am on my way," Dorman's voice eventually responded, and then Dorman severed the connection while Vayne re-anchored both voice and hearing to his body.

"Warmage Dorman is on his way Lord Hart," Vayne informed them and Gerald nodded.

"Captain, establish a perimeter and bring the archers forward," Gerald ordered. He couldn't very well let them continue to reinforce the position unimpeded. Thankfully the cover of buildings in the inner bailey helped to establish cover for when the enemy inevitably managed to rally their defenders and start issuing counter-volleys.

Eleven minutes later warmage Dorman rode up and slid from his horse, landing heavily and walking the rest of the distance to stand next to Gerald, who had dismounted to take a piss awhile ago and never bothered to remount.

"That is an issue... If we wait for Theresa and the rest of the inner circle to recover, we could crack it easily. As it stands, I can give it a shot but you'll need to order the charge to get me close enough to hunt down the enemy mages. You'll lose more men, but we will likely take the wall before it gets much stronger." Dorman informed Gerald of his considerations and Gerald took a moment to think about it before nodding.

"Very well. Captain? Give the order to prepare to charge," Gerald spoke in a decisive voice as he walked over to his horse and pulled a war-pick from his saddle.

Dorman, Vayne, and Daniel followed Gerald to just outside of bowshot and raised his horn, blowing on it furiously as the entire line of heavy infantry surged forward under the cover of friendly bow-fire. The clangor of armor and shouts of men filled the open distance between the outer wall and the middle wall, echoing ominously. Dorman raised his hand and the air shimmered twenty feet in front of them as a volley of arrows fell towards them. The deadly projectile struck the magical shield overhead and just stopped, dropping harmlessly to ground in front of the charging men.

"Handy" Vayne shouted to Dorman who only offered a tired grin. They approached the four foot tall hasty fortification and the entire line stabbed forward with long pikes while arrows rained down overhead.

"Set the pikes here" Gerald was saying to some men who hurried to comply, laying their pikes against the hasty wall, and then others threw their shields across, creating ramps that allowed Gerald to lead a charge up and over. Gerald cleared the way with a swing of his war-pick, shattering the face and helmet of a man and landing on the elevated platform they had made. Dorman followed close behind, and brought his fist forward with one finger pointed and leading the way. Lightning suddenly erupted from the tip of his finger and struck out at a man in robes much further away, who was picked up by the discharge and hurled into a wall.

"FOR HEXENGUARD" screamed Dorman, a call quickly echoed by Gerald and up and down the entire line.

All over the mage-made fortification ramps were constructed from pikes and shields, and soon the entire wall was broiling with conflict as men fought and died. Hemmed in by the walls and buildings on the opposite side turned into a brutal fight where the press of bodies caused every swing to hit someone and something. The defenders, not expecting the sudden charge and subsequent quick thinking ramp placement, were caught by surprise but rallied quickly to contest every inch of land. Gerald, Dorman, and several of Gerald's elite honor guard had slaughtered their way deep into the enemy ranks and set upon men and women in robes who were ill-prepared to deal with close quarters combat. Dorman crushed the head of one enemy mage by accelerating a foot long and foot wide brick and smashing it into the mans head, splattering those nearby with blood while Gerald lifted another man one handed and threw him bodily into the crowd of eager soldiers behind him where he was stabbed multiple times.

The furious fighting lasted for nearly an hour before the defenders were eventually pushed out of the narrow alleyways and into the next open area before the final set of walls that led to the donjon and the lords refuge. No matter how hard the defenders fought it seemed like Dorman, Gerald, and his Knights were there to shatter the defense with well placed oppressive aggression that drove deep gouges into the defending soldiers. These gaps were rapidly exploited by the veteran forces of Hexenguard who proceeded to drive sword-and-spear first into the breach, widening it until men were hemorrhaging through the gap and surrounding the defenders who fell quickly when faced with attacks from more than one angle.

Eventually they came up to the third and final breach, and there was no hesitation as the Hexenguard elite followed their charging lord. Gerald came upon the final hasty fortification, this one too tall to scale properly, and slammed his shoulder into it, halting his momentum and catching his breath. Dorman was a step behind him and stopped at the same position.

"Whew... Fair bit of exercise, eh?" Gerald smiled grimly behind his close-faced steel helmet.

"Aye, quite the workout for today," Dorman said, marveling at the seemingly limitless endurance displayed by Gerald, who was covered head to toe in heavy-but-flexible plate armor and chain mail.

"Got a solution for this one? I helped with the last one" Gerald joked.

"Yeah, I think I can get us through. We picked up a few more mages, give me a second." Dorman closed his eyes for a few minutes before opening them and turning slightly just as four men being protected by knights came sprinting up to him.

"Lets do this," Dorman said without fanfare and the four men plus mage herald Vayne laid their hands on his back. Dorman placed his hands against the makeshift wall and began to channel energy into it, reinforcing the side facing him and weakening everything else. After about a minute in which Dorman and his mages became paler and paler the wall exploded inward towards the defenders, killing anyone too close to the deadly stone shrapnel. Dorman stopped reinforcing the outward wall which quickly lost cohesion and crumbled to dust, revealing a two foot-wide gap free of stone. Gerald and his honor guard wasted no time diving into the gap and slamming into the shocked defenders on the opposite side, creating space for more and more attackers to flood in and soon men began to throw weapons onto the ground, surrendering and routing en-masse as the seemingly unstoppable Hexenguard advance dealt crippling blow after crippling blow to their morale.