Exton

The tavern is its usual chaos when I come in from patrol. I need to check in with Tori, then I need to get my ass home; I don't like leaving Star, even though Wish and Pike are there, and they'd die to protect her and Ruarc.

I don't see Tori, but Monty tells me that Keon is coordinating in her absence. I wander over that way and I see something a little weird....

I'm not sure why Mortuis is at the Tavern; somehow he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to drop by for a beer after work.... He's sitting by himself in a dimly-lit booth near the back, and I wouldn't have seen him at all if I hadn't passed by on my way to the men's room. There's a glass of something black in front of him, something that seems to soak up all the available light without reflecting any back. Weird....

Back at my table, I'm shooting the breeze with Keon when one of the college kids catches my eye. He's young; in fact, he looks too young to be here, but Jeb's very good at his job, so I shrug it off.

What I can't quite shrug off is the way he's behaving. He's so fidgety you'd think someone had dumped itching powder down his pants. He keeps wandering over near the sorcerer's table. Starstruck?, I wonder. I start to ask Keon about the kid - and then he makes his move.

Like a hawk he swoops; his fingers clutch at the black hood; and that's when I start to doubt what I see. It looks like his fingers pass through the fabric, or slide across it as though it were greased. Either way, he comes away without his prize.

And then the sorcerer stands. He turns to face his assailant; his hand grips a handful of his shirtfront; and he lifts him off the ground, holding him above his head without apparent effort.

This kid would go maybe 175 pounds, give or take. Now, I'm considered a fairly strong man, as such things go; but I couldn't lift him over my head and hold him there one-handed. I'm not even sure Guunar could do it. Nick? Yeah, probably, but he has that whole "my strength is as the strength of ten" thing going for him - the advantages of a liquid diet, not because his heart is pure.

He speaks not a word, but those ice-grey eyes speak volumes. He holds the boy aloft for a full thirty seconds, just letting his eyes do the talking; then he makes a flicking motion and the kid flies across the room to crash at Jeb's feet. The big werewolf hauls the boy to his feet and shoves him out the door. "And don't come back!"

I can't help it. I have to know. I stand and walk over to the mage's table. "What was that all about?"

The glare is so fierce I nearly step back, but then his shoulders slump and he murmurs, just loud enough to hear, "A fraternity initiation.".