Tower in the Wastes IC

[RaggedAngel]

The sun has just grown dim on the horizon as the man enters the meeting hall. He is of average height and medium build; however, he brims with intelligence and power. His grey mithral armor makes now sound as he turns to you and the others with a polite bow. He pulls out the chair at the head of the table and sits gracefully.

"I thank you all for agreeing to meet with me, and I promise that I shall not waste your time; I understand that it is precious. Allow me to explain what it is that I request." He takes a moment to clear his throat and gather his thoughts.

"One year and one day has gone by since a great tower rose from the blasted wastes of the Badlands. Though many have speculated as to the purpose and origin of the great monolith, few have dared to approach it. It is an object of power, a towering obelisk of obdurate stone. The few wizards that had the skill and impetus to properly observe it tell tales of immensely powerful wards, and no man has given word of the tower's interior. As far as anyone can tell it is a wizard's tower, and if that is true it will be filled with tomes and scrolls beyond any one's imagining, save Boccob himself. It is a mystery, and most believe that it will remain as such. I, however, have found a way inside, and I wish for you to accompany me."

As he speaks his holy symbol, the watchful eye of Boccob, glints in the dying light of the sun. He is eloquent and seems both ernest and eager. "I cannot, of course, promise your safety, but I can promise that the rewards will be great. Even if the tower turns out utterly empty, which I highly doubt, I will personally reimburse you for your time and efforts. Now then. Will you accept my job offer?"

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

Robin's face is framed by the crooked crimson of his snaggletoothed smile and scarlet shock of hair spiralling out of the black band bound around his head, encircling in its vermillion the violet of his eyes. Save the lavendar light that seems to shine from those irises, his asymmetical aspect is aesthetically abhorrent, angular in the least pleasant way it could be, highlighted by the setting sun in shading which explicitly articulares an uncharacteristic ugliness one would not expect from the graceful grey elves. His bony body, bent as it is by his poor posture, seems to swell and shrink with each breath rolling up and down his ribs.

"My time is a matter of little consequence," he says, splitting the silence along with his face, further, as a sardonic smirk stretches out from where once was a grin. "Amidst the doldrums of dealing in capital, I've come to fear I will never run out of it," a hand absently adjsusts the bandana beneath which his hair hangs halfway down his ears, "Relatedly, I am quite experienced in dealing with vampires and all manner of parasites, should that be a risk." In spite of his bitterness, the wealthy seem to have served him well; one doing the arithmatic would count his visible possessions worth as much as they had earned through adventure while, supposedly, Robin Banks was a humble and unadventurous merchant, a bon vivant who could not be bothered to explain the source of anything he owned or other such dull trivialities. The rumor, of course, was that they hadn't really served him so well under their own willpower.

In his private moments, he made a moribund game of counting all his possessions he had not, in some manner or another stolen, usually finding some coin created through investment, gifts bought off the backs of the poor by pretensious, ignorant idiots who feigned being his friend, and a few other possessions which made him feel dirty and he vowed in the morning to rid himself of, so that the next night he may play the same arithmatic game until tranquil enough for his trance. In public, they were gifts of lovers (and he would be a cad to reveal their source); they came from connections in the "old country" he claimed to keep secret from caricatures of his competitors, "conniving carrion-birds," seeking to steal them from him; they were one possession from so many he couldn't quite remember from whence they came, maybe you could pay some peasant with nothing better to do to remember who brought it?

"If that isn't clear enough, I'll gladly go," his smile slid southward into a scowl, "Any man who says he can promise your safety is a liar trying to convince you die before something else kills you. He never makes the promise without payment, and as I know well, nothing is ever worth so much as it costs."

[The Great Skenardo]

The tall, graceful Coquika sits in stark opposition to the flambuoyant Robin on the opposite side of the table. Where he is bright, she is suppressed, where he slouches, she sits upright, and where his logarhea spills forth, she sits in silence for the moment, subjecting their prospective employer to a keen, almost avian stare.
The light of the fire plays liquidly on her dusky skin and shimmers off of her straw-blonde hair that flows down her back, cascading across her characteristically-pointed elven ears. Her left ear, however, is ragged and clipped, like an alley cat's. In the period up to their meeting, the dancing of the flames seemed to hold much more fascination for her than the crowd, as colorful as they may be.
There is a faint chime of fine mithril chain as she fidgets with a bracelet on her left wrist, a simple polished disc of stone with the two curved lines of the Wandering One.
"For my own part-" she coughs, clearing her throat to speak again after such a long period of silence. "For my own part," she repeats, "I am more interested in the knowledge that the tower may hold. I know you of the Uncaring One safeguard and hoard knowledge, whether for good or ill." Her voice is carefully rythmic, as if delivering a speech carefully rehearsed, but her gaze suggests inattention, never quite touching on their patron's eyes.
"So, I desire from you a promise that if we succeed and we find everything you hope for, that I will have access to all of it at my leisure to examine." She pauses, marshalling her words again. "Some topics are of particular interest to me. We can discuss those later, if you wish some things to remain secret, and we can renegotiate payment, if you think the knowledge we find to be worth so much as that."
Her speech spent, Coquika leans back in her seat, crossing her legs, awaiting a response.

[Derenoc]

Unfolding himself from his chair in measured movements, Hrothgar stands tall and proud, running his eyes over all present before addressing the man in mithral.

The mission you propose is sure to be dangerous, though I thank you for proposing it nonetheless. I have myself intended to explore its mysteries, and will thus gladly accompany you as you do. One will oft fail where many triumph and all that, as I am sure you all know he gives a smile, his voice surprisingly warm and friendly for someone so big and so armed.

However! he interrupts himself I would know your name before we undertake any endeavour of such gravity, and I do ask a solemn vow of you: whatever knowledge or power in any form we find in there will not be used for evil

Again a smile and a nod before he seats himself

I am Hrothgar, and provided you fulfill my small requests, I shall be your comrade-in-arms

[Malachei]

The dying lights of the sun… The young woman had been looking out of the window for a long time. One finger slowly played with a streak of her long red-blonde hair, and she closed her eyes when the man had spoken. Her skin was pale as the winter’s sun, like ivory with a silvery glow, and her lips were full and red and promising as a ripe strawberry. But most of all, her eyes were peculiar, a strong, almost inhuman green, unfound in wild nature nor the depth of the sea, alight with an inner fire that echoed on their surface like drops of dew glistening in the sun on a cool spring morning.

She listened to each speaker’s words, and to what was within. Words, her soul knew, meant more than just what we said – they are. They carried a hidden melody, a strange, foreign language, the secret song of the soul, a code, hidden to all, inconceivable to mortals, safe those with the ancient gift.

Combray had the gift. And like a bard, listening to two instruments, at times, it consumed her. It was ever-present, often an ambient noise, a whirl of threads she needed to focus on to unravel, an orchestra of souls. When she closed her eyes, the voices in her head did not cease, and they told her more than her eyes would ever grasp. So much more.

”Le veritable voyage…” she whispered, more to herself, but easily heard, ”The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” As she opened her bright green eyes, gleaming from the dying lights of the sun, her voice echoed in the hall, it was a melody, and more than a melody, a song, a celebration, a promise.

She looked at the elven maiden, and her eyes travelled her, pausing at the imperfection of her ear, then wandering further. ”It is knowledge that I seek, as well, albeit of a different nature, I presume.” Her voice was warm as an early summer’s breeze. Turning to their host, she replied, ”We don't receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take us or spare us – whether it be dangerous or not.”

[Dorizzit]

From the moment he had walked into the room, something had seemed off about the short man who now sat at the table, leaning back in his chair. He moved with an easy pace, passing a small, constantly moving viper back and forth between his hands as the armored man spoke. Despite his seemingly inattentive posture, his golden eyes remain carefully fixed upon the man who had invited the group there. Once the devotee of Boccob finishes speaking, Janus turns his head to look around at the other assembled invitees, sizing them up with a keen and focused eye as they speak.

Elf: too cynical. Other elf: too serious. Tall guy: too dramatic. Whatever that last one was: Well. Um. Okay then.

Maybe not so keen and focused.

Well, we're a pretty ragtag bunch, but they all look competent, at least.

His decision made, Janus leans forward, the two front legs of his chair impacting the ground with a light knocking sound. He arches his fingers, as the small viper slithers up one arm and wraps around his neck, where it finally lies dormant. He smiles charmingly.

"I'll admit, I've been pretty curious about that tower ever since I first heard about it. This sounds like fun, and I think this group has a pretty good shot at going in and making it out alive, so...I'm in. Don't worry; I won't ask for any oaths or special access to knowledge or anything. I'm just along for the ride."

[RaggedAngel]

The cleric, having listened patiently and respectfully, addresses each of your concerns in turn, after carefully adjusting his position; as before his rather expensive armor slides noiselessly, and those of you that are magically inclined suspect that it is enchanted to impart even more grace than mithral normally does.

"I am pleased to hear your replies, and I feel that nothing you have requested or stated is unreasonable. First of all, I would like to state that I am not a follower of the path of the Precious Water; I believe in the proliferation and gracious allocation of magic and magical knowledge, unlike of my less wise peers. I will also grant you this bit of knowledge, now that I have your word in confidence that we shall be departing together; I found upon the tower, after a lengthy personal inspection, the holy symbol of Boccob, magically emblazoned upon a single stretch of wall.

The tower has no door, but this section of wall, which I believe has been marked with a divine version of the Arcane Mark spell, reacts when touched by a holy symbol of Boccob that has been charged with divine energy. It took me some time to discover this, and I was rather anxious to enter the tower, but I decided that prudent forethought would be more suited to a devotee of the Uncaring One." He gestures to each of you in turn.

"You are that forethought. Now, then; if there is nothing more to do or say, then I would be pleased to see each of you here tomorrow morning an hour after the sun rises. You have until then to gather anything you wish to have for the journey. It is a five day trip by horseback, and I will have a horse for each of you tomorrow morning. I have some rations, but if you would like to purchase some of your own I would welcome the prudence. After all, we do not know how long it will be once we enter the tower. Any questions, my friends?"

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OOC- I dislike using social skills against PC's, so I'm just going to let you know that he has a rather nice Diplomacy modifier. All you should know is that he is good a speaking, and that your character should be more inclined to listen to him than the average person. Other than that, it's up to your character to form opinions on him.

[The Great Skenardo]

Coquika
The tall elf merely nods once, absently. Heedless for the moment of the others at the table, she considers their potential employer. He was confident, certainly, but something about him was odd too; she had not supposed that humans ever had much use for stealth, particularly those with divine leanings. But here was this human with knowledge, wealth and stealth, looking for aid from strangers to explore a famous tower.

She filed that thought away for later scrutiny. But it was suspicious, anyways. At least he seemed prepared. She clears her throat again, then asks.
"Yes. What is your name?"

[RaggedAngel]

A slight smile touches his face, and he laughs. "Boccob above, I've forgotten to introduce myself! Forgive me, forgive me; I'm rather used to working with those who already know me, and it's been a time since I adventured with others. My name is Edgar Calistar, the latest in a long line of Calistarian clerics. I, as did my forefathers, use my power to expand my church's collective knowledge, as well as furthering the knowledge of the general populace. My family line knows a bit of fame for the discovery of the "Magic Jar" spell; both arcane and divine magic is in my blood, one could say. However, I have chosen a more devout path."

He sits back, still with that faint smile touching his face. "I do hope that that is sufficient information. Is there anything else that you would like to know?"

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Give me a sense motive check in the OOC.

[The Great Skenardo]

Coquika
The elf merely shakes her head.
"There will be questions along the way. But for now, I am satisfied with your offer. If no one else has any questions...?" she lets the sentence hang in the air for a second.
"...Then you will please excuse us, and we will meet you in the morning."
Her manner is polite, but firm.

==Once Questions are Answered and Cleric Calistar has left==
Coquika laces her long fingers delicately together, and looks to the rest of the group around the table.
"Then we are also to be partners and companions on this journey," she begins, a little blandly.
"I imagine most of you..." she pauses and nods at the very feminine woman with the red hair, "most of you," she repeats, catching up with her thoughts, "are hoping for wealth and artifacts in the tower. That is fine. But I hope none of you entertain crude ideas of felling trees to gain the light when we reach there." The crude common translation of an elvish idiom rolls of her lips smoothly. She pauses to marshall her words once more.
"Honor me, and I shall honor you. I... am not used to relying on strangers, especially mayflies, in combat. I have some small skill as a healer, but I will rely on you all to keep the fighting away from me."
She smoothly crosses her legs again.
"It will be to your advantage to do so."

[Derenoc]

"Actually, a small thing" he says to Coquika before turning to the knight in shining armour
"Forgive me, Sir Calistar, but paranoia built up over years of adventuring would ask that you vow explicitly not to use any of what we find in the tower for evil. A slight formalia, you understand" He gives a slanted, almost apologetic smile.

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A knowledge: religion check to see what exactly Hrothgar knows of Boccob and the path of the precious water in the OOC post

[RaggedAngel]

Before he leaves Calister assures you that he will never use anything, knowledge or otherwise, for anything but the furthering of the collective knowledge and welfare of the sentient races. He seems quite ernest, and thanks you for clarifying such an important point.

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If you would like to proceed to the next day, let me know in the OOC thread.

[Malachei]

She was the last semi-guileless girl in the world. She had always been that way. And even though she had learned not to trust, it was hard to defend against the urge -- especially for her, whose sensitive nature felt the intensity of an urge with the utmost attention, like a bee experienced the red and yellow of a beautiful flower. It spelled adventure and if there was anything more exciting in the world than knowledge and wisdom, it was poetry. And poetry existed because life was full of adventures and people's hearts were singing songs of hope, love and sorrow for it. Not even a satisfied chuckle would have made her have second thoughts about this friendly man she was impressed with. Nonetheless, she appreciated Hrothgar's question and the vow he had asked their employer to take. "Master Calistar," she asked "is there anything else you can give us, be it an information or a good? Is there a map?"

As the elf spoke to her, Combray smiled warmly. "I will honor you," she answered, her voice vibrant with earnest devotion, and she nodded at the elf's last comment.

OOC

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Knowledge (Arcana) (1d20+15)[19] to know the properties of Magic Jar and whether this is an evil spell -- or what good purposes it would be used for.

[RaggedAngel]

The meeting ends quietly, and you all return to the various places that you have chosen to spend the night. The next morning comes and you rise early, arriving at the meeting place at more or less the same time as everyone else. Calistar is there waiting for you patiently; he seems like he has never left, but he is immaculate and looks like he had a full night's rest.

He smiles and nods to each of you in turn. "It is good to see all of you, and I am glad that you have returned for our little quest. If you are all ready, then we can commence." He leads you out into the city, to a small caravan that he has apparently arranged overnight.

He gestures to the covered wagons. "There should be room to sleep on these, and the horses are hale and hearty. I can create food and water, but I made sure to stock that last wagon with supplies. The last wagon should also have room for your gear; however, I understand if you want to keep your packs next to you."

He walks over to the driver at the front, a quiet and solid dwarf. Calistar tells him something in dwarvish*, and then he deftly climbs into the first wagon. "There is room in this one for two of you, and the rest of you can fit in the middle wagon. We should be reasonably comfortable on our journey, which should last about a week, as I said. Now then, is everyone prepared to go?"

*

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He tells the dwarf that this is everyone and that you will be leaving soon.

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I would like everyone to respond; this is an opportunity for a bit of conversation, and I would like to see if everyone is still with us.

[Derenoc]

Hrothgar arrives clad as before in full plate armour, with no pack except for a small bag and with the great sword strapped across his back. His stride as he arrives is vital and his look happy and expectant. He listens to what Calistar says before speaking.

"Well, sirs and ladies, I wouldn't wish to further crowd the front wagon with my imposing frame" He says with a chuckle as he starts towards the middle wagon "And besides, this is a great opportunity to get to know one another, wouldn't you say?"

Just before reaching the wagon he turns as if suddenly realizing something "Oh, would any of you like any help stowing your things?"

During the journey Hrothgar is pleasant enough and speaks of his many journeys on the roads, sharing stories of different places he's been to, though curiously leaving out battle stories. He also tries to learn everyone's skills and strengths, and says that his own are purely martial, as expected.

[Dorizzit]

Janus Aurum

Janus looks...pretty much exactly the same as he did during the meeting the previous night. Probably because he carries all of his possessions with him at all times. After all, no point in spreading your things around if you might need to leave town in a hurry. He takes up a relaxed pose as Calistar speaks, his arms tucked behind his head and the snake wrapped around his throat like a macabre necklace.

"Right then, I'll take the middle wagon. I'd like to get to know everyone. And I'll keep my pack with me."

After establishing his course of action, Janus clambers up into the central wagon and stretches out, somehow managing to simultaneously sprawl himself out and avoid encroaching on anyone else's space. He spends most of the trip talking, and quickly proves to be a charming, if irreverent and somewhat amoral, person. Somehow, he always seems to know just what to say to set others at ease or deliver the punchline to a joke just right. He tells a number of stories about various unlikely escapades (about half are true). He also devotes a fair amount of time trying to convince the others to engage in games of chance using his dice, actually playing fair if he manages to do so.

[The Great Skenardo]

Coquika
Coquika shows up exactly on time, her clothes travelworn but sturdy. She seems to travel light, although there's little doubt that she is a seasoned wanderer of the roads. Before the group departs, she brushes her fingertips in the dust of the road and gathers a pinch of it in her long, slender fingers. Ceremonially, she tosses the pinch of dust into the air and observes the direction the wind blows it. With a satisfied nod, she re-shoulders her pack. Gracing her equipment today is a polished heirloom-looking bow of elven make, the string covered with a weathered oilskin.
For her own part, she pays little attention to the garrulousness of her new traveling companions, taking a place wordlessly at the first wagon. Sitting there, the elf's gaze takes on a sort of bird-like restlessness, always flitting from one thing to the next, lingering sometimes on the sky, but nowhere else. Little escapes her watchful, if rather spastic gaze.

[Malachei]

Combray was glowing with anticipation. Her eyes shining brightly, she lifted her fine sienna leather bag and her backpack into the first wagon, extending her hand to Calistar to help her up. "The start of a journey is always full of promises, isn't it?" she asked the cleric.

As the wagon prepared to roll, she eagerly looked at the path that lay before them. On one occasion, she grasped the elf's hand, apparently absent-minded and fully focused on the new beginning that was just dropping its curtain.

[The Great Skenardo]

Coquika
Coquika responds to Combray's question, apparently after some thought.
"It may. But that is up to the Lord of Roads, in the end." She fidgets with her bracelet as she speaks, her gaze still fixed to the sky.
"Starting a journey is a holy thing; it's a chance for reflection and a chance for change. If you wander far enough, even the heavens change overhead."
The elf lapses into silence.

When Combray grasps her hand, the woman can feel the sudden twitch of tension in Coquika's body, and her normally unfocused gaze fixes upon Combray's sunny face with a sudden intensity. "Wh-What are you doing?" She seems shocked that a stranger would reach for her.

[Malachei]

"A holy thing..." Combray repeated, speaking to herself and smiled. She enjoyed how the word formed in her heart, such a good word. Change, too, is a good word. And yet, she was tense, and perhaps not unafraid.

"Do the heavens really change? Or is it our perspective that does? Is there nothing in the world that will be the same?" she asked her questions in a burst, only to fall silent again, pondering.

At the elf's surprised reaction at her grasp, she startled, as if suddenly aroused, and withdrew her hand. "Me? Oh." she said seemingly confused, as her pale face blushed into a full red blossom.

[The Great Skenardo]

Coquika
The elf gives the other an owlish sort of look, then shrugs.
"It is no matter. We are not friends, though. We may become friends in time, but for now don't presume."
An awkward silence falls for a moment, then Coquika picks up the earlier thread of conversation as if the exchange had never happened.
"Of course the heavens change. You must have noticed the stars wheeling overhead as a night passes? You have seen the moon as he turns his gaze to and fro across the earth? Change that stays the same: rhythm, like the pattern of footsteps. Maybe that constancy can comfort you. But if you won't embrace change, then why would you travel at all?"

[Derenoc]

Hrothgar

As you get seated in the middle wagon Hrothgar extends a hand and a smile "As I said before, I am Hrothgar, a pleasure to meet you, I'm sure" He seems to take you in, noting the clothes and the paraphernalia, and the snake-necklace especially. He grins and nods towards it "say, care to explain what that's all about?"

Hrothgar himself squirms around a little, futilely trying to get comfortable in the wagon despite being just a tad too big in just about every direction, and the armour and blade getting caught everywhere sure isn't helping either. As he looks around with attentive eyes, you'd notice him fiddling with the gem set into a lithoderm (bony outhgrowth) growing on the knuckle of his left index finger.

[Malachei]

Combray was hesitant. She was put off by the elf's cool remark. Her hand still warm from the elf's touch, she let her thumb wander over her palm quickly. It was a consoling gesture.

"Consistency. Stability. A pattern, like a cosmic music, a theme, repeating itself," she replied, "Change... change is what happens within us."

She paused to wait for her soul to form the words, "I desire change," she said, and she looked at the elf again.

[The Great Skenardo]

Coquika
Coquika's gaze drifts away from Combray, obviously considering the matter settled. This was one of the drawbacks of traveling, of course; One had to deal with humans and their expectations of instant gratification. Who could possibly become real friends in less than a decade? Even then, a century was about what it took to establish true friendship. Commit too quickly and there was hardly anything more painful or inconvenient.
Not that there wasn't some sympathy in her heart for these mayflies, come and gone, usually in less than half a century... their only hope for true friendship and true love was to jump right in and hope. But she saw no reason to jump right in with them.

Instead, the unusually-tall and dusky elf rests her graceful bow on her lap and watches the scenery instead, her gaze once again lingering from time to time on the sky.

[RaggedAngel]

The sun drifts across the sky, and you end your first day on the road peacefully. The caravan, if the few covered wagons can be called that, has been led off of the road by the dwarven driver. He is very quiet and surly, but has driven the horses with care and you have made excellent time.

You set up a fire for the night, and the driver takes off his wide brimmed hat and puts on a beaten cook's hat. He begins to cook up some beans and meat in a decently sized pot, and the smell reaches you quickly. As the fire burns the sun reaches the horizon, and you all find yourselves watching the sunset as the last moments of day vanish.

Just as you are about to turn away, you see a brilliant green flash as the sun passes between day and night.

"Ha. Just perfect." Calistar seems amused. "Please prepare to be attacked, everyone. I've seen that flash before. I don't believe that we have long now."

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Roll Initiative. I'm going to average it into a group initiative, but I want to see who's still with us.

Game on.

[The Great Skenardo]

Coquika
The elf gives their employer an odd look, but she stands on her perch in front of the wagon, her heirloom bow coming easily to her hands as she scans the clearing dubiously for a sign of trouble with her sharp elven eyes.
"You should have mentioned this earlier. You follow the uncaring one, not the lord of secrets!"

[Derenoc]

"Protect the magicians!" Hrothgar states, loud enough to carry without shouting. He leads by example by planting himself defensively by the closest out of Janis, Coquika and Combray whilst drawing his sword. His feet well apart, ready to swing his massive greatsword, he scans for danger, eyes staring deep into the murky shadows for any hint of steel or spell.

"If any of you can illuminate the surroundings further, please do!" and of Calistar he asks "What are we facing?"

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Initiative roll in OOC

[Dorizzit]

Janus looks up somewhat sourly from playing with his familiar as Calistar declares his belief that there was an impending attack. Placing the small viper on his shoulder, the small man stands and looks around at the others. Seeing everyone readying themselves, he strides calmly towards the center of the encampment, looking around slowly but suspiciously, his eyes trying to cover all angles.

"Well, that didn't take long. Everyone ready for some "fun?" Some more information might be nice, if you have it, though."

This last is directed at Calistar. As he speaks, Janus brings his hands up in front of his chest parted by a few inches. Lines of multicolored (primarily purple) energy place across his hands and arc from palm to palm.

[RaggedAngel]

Calistar nods, his eyes alight with... interest? It's hard to tell in the firelight, and he quickly turns to face the largest opening in the wagon circle. "They are... clerics of an opponent faith. The Whispering One and the Uncaring One have long been embattled, you know, though rarely does it arise into open conflict. They are frequently fools, however; the sun cannot flash green in that manner unless it is a sunset over the ocean."

He looks around, then continues, his voice amused. "I detect no ocean. Regardless, the green flash is a signal they occasionally use to signal the beginning of an attack. I believe that they think it is secret signal, but it has been known to my peers for ages. I doubt they will attack us directly, however. They usually use summons, at least at first."

[The Great Skenardo]

Coquika
The elf looks at Calistar incredulously. How could he take these attacks so lightly?
"Summons? Conjured beasts?"After a second of thought, She utters a wordless prayer to the Strider, and an intangible, nearly invisible bubble expands from her hand, encompassing herself and anyone withing 10 feet in a Magic Circle vs. Evil.