Mog the mason loved his work. A passion unfettered by silly things like money, time, or place. Thus it was that he found himself working for the crown on a new road to some oasis a days travel from Lodras. The only qualification they had was that the builders must infuse mana into each brick. Mog was lucky, he had spent these past few days building the most magnificent fountain around his inner wellspring, which increased the quality of the mana coming out and as a result he had amazing mana quality pouring out of the fountain and into his body, which he had spent all his effort imbuing into his chisel. Mog even decided to petition the crown for the rights to a plot of land along what would be the road, and was summarily told that if he could keep the land, it was his, while being pointed towards some kind of self defense class. As if Mog didn't have thirty years of grit keeping him alive to begin with.

Walking the path that would become the road, Mog had decided that he would make sculptures to line the roadside, because damn if he wasn't tired of the box-like city already. He already had several ideas in his head, now it was time for him to work them. About an hour's walk from the city, Mog settled down and had his attache begin the setup work with all the carted equipment from his workshop. Mostly it was just large stones waiting to be worked, so Mog began right away. The first project, he decided, would be a pair of twins carved from one stone. He had even named them; Ordella and Khaoli, the sisters of mana, whose wisdom and strength would be a guiding light for all craftsmen who aspired to strike out on their own.

He kept ruminating on the sisters as he began to work the stone, allowing his chisel to pierce mana deep into the stone with each strike. Like an immersed lover, Mog felt his senses spread into the stone, and it was like he could already see the finished sculpture. Hours passed as the stone was shaved away, and quickly, the crude form of two women was beheld by the others around him as Mog kept working. A lithe woman of grace and austerity bloomed first; She stood in a simple pose with a small jewelers knife in hand. Looking into the middle distance, she held a stern but loving expression. Wearing robes that would not be out of place in a priesthood, and an incredibly simple tiara, this woman was the foundation of all the dedication and discipline necessary to become a master craftsman. Her sister, Khaoli, however, was a wholly different side of things. Wearing naught but sheer silks, and only the barest coverage at that. Her implement of choice was a pickaxe of brutal sharpness on one side and a solid blunt head on the other. Heavily muscled, but still containing plenty of feminine charm, this woman personified the near-madness and strength of body that would bring about those truly inspired masterpieces. Khaoli was crouched to the side of her sister, looking like a tiger ready to pounce on her prey.

Together, the two sisters formed the foundation of all that was to become grand masters of any craft. As Mog made the final touches on the sisters, mana began to leave him in a deluge,and he could feel that it congregated in both the sister's eyes and tools, and who knew what effects these sculptures might have. His first work of the roadside completed, he had plans to make a 'god' representing every domain of skill he could think of. Particularly, He thought, he would focus on the many different forms of Ordella and Khaoli, the two sisters of mana. Although his first work had focused on their respective influences on craftsmanship, he could feel that the divine inspiration which had been imparted upon him contained their forms in a much vaster sense. The weight of his inspirations weighed upon Mog as he made his way to the small cluster of tents which had been put up near the workshop tools.