He was bound. The frogs must have gotten him. Looking around, he expected to see the crimson faces of the amphibians staring at him. Instead, he saw human faces gazing at him. Confusion struck him. What were they doing? He looked down at his limbs.

He was in chains.

The mouths of the people around him were opening and closing. They were saying something. But, he couldn't hear them.

He struggled against his bonds. And, he was awake.

The room was as it had been when he fell asleep. The chair was still propped up against the door and his equipment sat heavily upon the table.

Clay rolled off the bed and landed on his feet. He had business to take care of.

Throwing the chain mail vest over his head, the golem fastened his sword to his waist. He wrapped the gauntlet around his fist and began towards the door. Kicking the chair aside, he entered the hunter's guild hallway.

He needed to visit the blacksmith today. His coin jangled in his pocket as he plodded down the stairs. This time a human male sat behind the table. With a half wave, the man returned to his business.

Exiting the guild hall, Clay began to navigate his path to the blacksmith's store. Occasionally checking his map of Jaskar city. It didn't take long before, once more, the golem stepped into the glittering room full of iron and steel gear.

"Hello, there." The blacksmith called. "Ah, yes. You were in here the other day. How did the gear work out for you?"

"Very well. Thank you." Clay replied. "But, I'd like a new sword."

Clay pulled out his iron sword and the blacksmith winced.

"Yes, I can see why." The man took the blade to examine.

"It is plain iron, so it is more brittle than steel. But, I wouldn't expect it to take such damage so quickly."

"It served its purpose," Clay said mysteriously.

"Well, if you'd like, I can take it back and put it towards your fee for the new sword. Reforging won't be an option, it'll have to be melted down for scrap."

"Please." Clay pulled out his bag of jangling coins.

The blacksmith's mood brightened at the sound of the coin. "Let me show you what I've got in stock."

The two men approached the bin filled with swords. "What is your price range today?" The blacksmith asked.

The golem thought for a moment. "A thousand dinal."

At this, the blacksmith's face broke into a wide smile. "Then, let me show you some of my better work."

The smiling man moved past the bin to where several swords were laid out on the counter. The silvery steel shone brilliantly under the light of the purple gemstones that lined the walls of the room.

Picking up one of the swords, the blacksmith said, "For the price, this is my best sword."

A wave pattern scrolled along the blade. Double-edged, the sword was about half as long as Clay was tall. The handle guard stood out in a cross, expanding away from the blade. The rounded pommel stood out from the end of the sword.

Taking the sword in his hands, Clay felt the balance of the sword. With a couple of short chopping movements, he was convinced.

"I'll take it."

Moving around his counter, the blacksmith waited while Clay counted out the thousand dinal from his bag.

"As always, sir, thank you for your patronage. Please return with all your blacksmithing needs."

Clay nodded to the man as he left the building.

He pulled the sword a few inches out of its scabbard and saw the metallic glint of the steel. He felt better about the sword than he had with the iron one. He hoped this new blade wouldn't chip so readily.

Wandering through the labyrinthine streets of Jaskar City, the golem thought about his next task. He felt secure in his equipment and still had two hundred and seventy-five dinal left to his name.

Thinking about what to do next, Clay walked past the magister's guild. He was unfamiliar with the word but found himself drawn to it. Walking up to the door, the golem peered inside.

The desk had a bespectacled drow female seated in front of the door. Noticing the crack in the door she looked up.

"Hello?" The woman called.

Realizing his investigation had been found out, Clay opened the door and stepped inside.

The purple gemstones lit up the building, and several torches lined the walls. The dining hall had several tomes strewn about on the tables.

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"Hello," Clay responded to the woman. "I was just curious about this guild. I've never heard of a magister before."

With a somewhat bored expression, the elf looked down her eyeglasses at the golem. Then her expression shifted to one of confusion.

"You're not human," she murmured to herself.

Clay was surprised by her statement. It wasn't that he was trying to hide the fact. But, he'd grown accustomed to people assuming him to be human.

"No," he replied.

The woman raised a hand to her head and scratched at the mat of her hair.

Remembering herself, she lowered her hand and spoke, "A magister is a magic wielder. We practice a wide variety of magics in this guild. If you're interested in learning offensive skills, we have several tomes that will teach you. That's not to say you'll learn just by reading a few manuals, but it can help. Magic is all about affinity."

Clay thought about what she had said, magic. The idea of learning magic appealed to the golem. But, he had other things he wanted to learn about. And, maybe this magister could enlighten him.

"I was wondering, do you know anything about the firmament?" Clay asked.

The woman was taken aback. "The firmament?" She stared at him blankly.

"Yes. I was just wondering if you, or perhaps another magister would know anything about it." Clay explained.

"Well... yes, I do know some things about it. But, I'm not particularly well-read on the subject," she replied, blinking through her glasses.

Thinking it might go over better if he registered with the guild first, Clay fished out his coin purse." Would it be alright if I register with the guild?"

Recollecting her wits, the drow elf female smiled at the prospect of the exchange of coins. "Of course."

Clay handed over the currency and showed her his paperwork from the hunter's guild.

"Thank you." She said professionally. "If you'd like, you can freely use the tomes we have made available in the guild hall. But, we do ask that you not remove any of them from the premises."

Clay nodded his assent. He wondered what the books had in them.

"Welcome to the magister's guild," the woman said with a smile.

"Thank you," Clay replied. "Could you tell me anything about the firmament now?"

"Oh, yes. So, the firmament divides the worlds." Clay already had learned this from Marcel, but he waited patiently. "There are sixteen worlds that are divided by it."

Clay was surprised to hear that there were so many.

"This is Orgas, above our plane exists Purgamous, and below lies Ashur."

Clay nodded his head as the woman went on. "In ancient times, the worlds were one. But, then the Calamity fell, and the gods warred against one another. Each vying for supremacy over the whole world. But, in a final act of desperation, the Creator established the firmament to divide the armies of the gods and bring an end to the Calamity."

"Across the realms portals between the worlds exist. But, traversing the portals takes an incredible amount of magic. The journey will destroy any normal being that seeks passage between the worlds. I don't know of any magisters who have attempted the journey."

Clay was somewhat disappointed to learn that the guild didn't have anyone who could travel between the worlds, but it wasn't that surprising. He recalled his fall from Purgamous. If he had been human, he would have died long before he hit the ground.

"So..." The woman looked at him curiously, "What are you?"

Clay thought about how to respond and then settled for honesty. "A golem."

The bespectacled drow's mouth dropped open.

"Mind if I take a look at the books?" Clay asked, gesturing towards the dining hall.

Her mouth snapped shut. "No, go right ahead."

With a nod of his head, Clay turned to the tables littered with books. A few guild patrons sat amongst the piles eating, drinking, and reading. None of them paid any attention to the new figure wandering among them.

Clay looked over the books as he passed by; 'The Luminaries', '101 Uses for Orbs', 'Trans-Dimensional Beings', and 'Summoning for Imbeciles'. There were many books on a great number of subjects. Clay didn't know where to start. As he was searching the tomes, the golem saw one that jumped out at him. 'Necromancy and its Perils'. He recalled Marcel's words to the Rayin family's Mistress Resha. Clay was the creation of a necromancer. Roland had said he'd built his body from clay and mud.

Clay picked up the book, he felt a strange aura emanating from it. Opening the pages of the tome, the letters seemed to race across the pages. He opened the book to the introduction.

'The practice of necromancy is highly controversial. Adepts in the art have high mortality rates that lead to interest in the study of necromancy being low among magi. Additional constraints arise in the handling of the Rephaim, otherwise known as the departed. The souls of the Rephaim are integral to the magic of a necromancer. Without a Rephaim to inhabit the vessel that the necromancer is working with, the only recourse is direct manipulation through the application of the magi's soul. Such practice is highly dangerous, even for the most practiced of necromancers.

'The use of Rephaim presents its own unique complications. Mortality among adepts comes overwhelmingly from their constructs. The longer the soul of the Rephaim has been deceased, the greater the deterioration of the spirit's consciousness. Insanity among the risen dead leads to high enmity between the construct and the magus who raises it.

'Another complication arises when, to protect their safety, the necromancer subjugates the will of the Rephaim. Subjugation is essential for the management of an insane Rephaim and is necessary for even the most docile to follow the will of the necromancer. But, subjugation further deteriorates the Rephaim soul, leading to lower performance and collapse of the construct.'

Clay was astounded by the things he was reading. Roland had risen him from the dead. But, he hadn't used subjugation to compel Clay to submit to his will. He'd released the golem as soon as he had created it.

Clay wondered if there was any information on golems. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

'The golem is a higher level magic that only skilled necromancers can use. Formed from wet clay and mud, the golem presents a vessel for the Rephaim spirit. The use of a golem presents its challenges, beginning with the deterioration of the vessel. Being formed from mud and clay, the golem begins to fall apart from the moment of its activation.

'One solution to this collapse comes in the form of baking. By baking the external segments of the golem, one may increase the life cycle of the Rephaim significantly. The use of ordinary fire in the baking process will result in an ordinary golem, with a relatively short life cycle.

'Ideal baking relies on the fires of a jinn. The magical fires of a jinn can improve the quality of the golem significantly.

'Additional constraints to the construction of the golem include the quality of the Rephaim soul. The higher the quality of the spirit infused into the golem, the higher the quality of the golem and the longer its life cycle. Complications arise due to the Rephaim's stronger sense of identity, as opposed to ghouls. The higher the quality of the Rephaim soul, the less susceptible the risen dead is to subjugation.

'Mortality rates with the use of golems are high. Use caution.'

As Clay read, he came to understand a few things. He wondered if Roland truly was his friend or if it was all a manipulation. He still wanted to meet the necromancer who had given him life, but he wondered if it was truly in his best interest to do so.

Clay closed the book and looked across the room. None of the other patrons showed any interest in the revelations the golem had just uncovered. They were preoccupied with unraveling their own mysteries.

Standing up, Clay set the book aside and walked to the exit of the guild hall.