It was the middle of the morning, about 10 AM, so the sun was shining. The tower stood out from the middle of nowhere, so it was simple to spot. Slightly more difficult to see, but easy all the same, was a bright bronze glint. Was it a heap of treasure? An abandoned sheild or suit of armor? Nope, it was Ian DeSarva Vaner's telltale Bronze hair, worn, as usual, straight down low as he could halfway down his back. Ian was by all definition of the word, a beautiful person. Being 1/4th Nymph, 1/4th elf, and half human, he took great pride in his body, grateful to fate that he was born stunningly handsome. He intended to buy an Enchantment spell at some point to turn this to his advantage, among other, much nastier spells.

He had taken shelter in the Tower's lowest floor for the previous night, and had just recently woken up an hour ago, and after fixing his hair, he had gone outside to wake himself up with the light of the sun before he would explore the second and above floors of the tower.

Ian yawned, taking a big gulp of air, as he pondered. Ian thought a lot, he regarded himself as one of the most brilliant men on Arda. Whether this was true or not remained to be seen, but there was no question he had both Pride and considerable wit. He double checked over his inventory, particularly his sword and is wallet, to ensure everything was there. It was. Good. Ian took a breif moment to look up at the top of the tower. From this close up, he had to really crane his neck.

"Tall, ancient tower...perhaps a vestige of wealth or knowledge is yet left within. Perhaps not, I've seen signs of other adventurers in the tower already...." He'd spotted muddy bootprints, for example. Well, he began to plot his day out, paying little attention to anything not immediately around him, or within 10 feet, really.

The Ancient Tower. It stood as a proud symbol of Arda, possibly one of the oldest and tallest buildings around, aside from the Temples. It stood in the Salquedor Grasslands, resisting the elements day in and day out, surviving many a battle, standing as a proud monument of Arda's culture and--

Oh, who were they kidding? It was just an old building. Sheesh. She understood talking that way about swords or useful things, but why would anyone care about a building that looked like it might collapse at any moment. It wasn't even remotely useful, for crying out loud. She definitely wouldn't live in it, if given the chance. She doubted anyone would, and in reality it was just an eyesore. She wondered for a moment what it was still doing there. Whatever valuables inside had probably been raided a long time ago anyway.

She frowned, staring at the tower. Well, if anything it would be a little bit of shelter tonight. She supposed that it was better than sleeping outside...well, by just a little bit anyway. Linea frowned, walking towards the tower. If she had her way, she would be staying at an inn, not some rat-infested spider haven. She frowned, her hand going to the hilt of her sword as she noticed there was someone there. She didn't really want to fight--okay, maybe she did, but she was a little tired and probably wouldn't do much in the way of fighting unless she was challenged.

The man standing in front of the tower was really beautiful. What was it with all these beautiful people she kept meeting nowadays. Did he have nymph blood too? Or was it elvish? Gods, why couldn't people just fall in love with members of their own race? Otherwise they produced people like him.

The paladin's face entered her mind for a moment and she felt her face heating up. Linea shook her head vigourously, trying to shake the image from her mind. She couldn't be thinking about him. He was a paladin and she was a thief. They were supposed to be enemies. She was a member of the freaking Shadovar Concordance for crying out loud!

"Hey, what's up with you?" asked Linea, walking over to the man.

Up with him? Ian took slight offense to that. "Excuse me? "Up with you"? Is there something I am doing out of the ordinary? No, No, I am not. I am standing here, wondering what may be inside this crumbling, mold-ridden tower, and pondering if anything of worth is inside, perfectly normal thoughts for any sentient creature in this realm, particularly among those who are interested in actualy advancing their position to anything significant. I should be the one asking the questions, miss, You're the one who approached me and randomly asked me a question. I may have nymph-elven heritage, but for goodness sakes, I don't stand out from the scenery in any way aside from being the only one other than yourself in the immediate area!"

Ian levelled his deep green eyes at Linea. "And if that's all it takes for you to strike up a conversation, than so be it. Clearly you have nothing better to do, or are extremely desperate for something to alleviate boredom. Very well, what is "Up with me", as you put it, is as I just said. I am considerign scalign and searching this tower for anything of worth."

Well, Linea'd have some similarity with that. It was a very rogueish sort of thing to do, plundering treasure from ruins. Well, more of an Indiana Jones thing to do, but all the same.

Ian looked Linea up and down. The first thing he noted was she carried her sword openly, as opposed to him hiding his under his cloak. He guessed her fighting style was one of trying to make a quick strike at the opponent off the bat, then being able to counter an attack from a slower opponent, and from then on, it'd be a standard sword fight. Well, if it came to a fight, she'd be in for a nasty table-turning once Ian cast his haste spell, and just in case it came to that, he performed the hand gestures under his cloak for the spell. All it would take to complete it would be to speak the incantation. Sure, a battle wasn't likely, unless she was someone with a good alignment and detect evil, but it always paid to be prepared.

The second thing he noted about Linea was a lack of pointed ears, wings, or any other distinguishing characteristic. Pure blood human, or someone who knew a Polymorph spell, he surmised. If it was the former, he'd be in for the rare treat of dealing with someone NORMAL for a change. If it was the latter...well, it was a good thing he had just prepared a Haste spell.

Okay, what was wrong with him? She had asked him a five word question, and received a long speech in return. Weirdo. What was it, his time of the month or something? Linea frowned halfway through his speech, having half a mind to rob him and get lost, or maybe punch his lights out and stop him from talking. Damn, he sure talked a lot, even more than her father or Lynette, which was a bit of an achievement. She rolled her eyes as he continued to speak, no longer listening.

Instead, she looked over him. The nymph-elven blood seemed pretty obvious. He looked prettier than she did. What was it with all these guys that looked prettier than her? That sword looked nice though. Probably something of elven make. She was beginning to contemplate if she could grab it and run, but she knew how well that turned out when she tried it on the last swordsman with nymph blood she met.

Finally, she heard the sweetest sound she had heard in a long time--silence. He had stopped talking. At last!

"Are you done?" she asked, a tone of impatience in her voice, "Sheesh, what is it, your time of the month or something? You're not gonna find anything valuable in that relic. If there was anything I would have found it ages ago."

She didn't even feel like fighting him. In fact, she was a little worried that if she did, he would launch into another long-winded speech about how she was destined to lose, and she had a very strong dislike of speeches. Her older sister loved to give them, usually about how they should always do what was right because they were the children of a paladin blah blah blah. Now that she thought of it, she hadn't listened then either.

A look of annoyance flashed over Ian's face. She had essentially called him effeminate and a windbag in about 5 short seconds. NO ONE talked to a noble Vaner that way! "Oh, so you don't like me talking, hmm? You asked for it, Wench." Ian than cast Haste in it's entirity, but not for the sake of fighting. No, this was so he could rant on and on and not shut up for a good 5 minutes straight. Ian's mentality was, if someone was going to be a whiner about how he spoke, he would punish them with exactly what they didn't want: MORE TALKING.

And so, Ian launched into a five minute, completely incomprehensible tirade. What he had failed to remember was that Haste sped up his perceptions as well, so while to HIM his speech sounded normal and five minutes long, to Linea, it'd be about 5 minutes of pure, sped-up gibberish, some syllables making themselves more obvious than others. It'd basically sound like what would happen if you pressed the "Fast Forward" button on a video cassette, his gesticulations and his speech all seemed jerky and disconnected. One choice snippet: "NDSULPEE *millesecond pause* AYENVRTLRTNYOESLYIGMYBLFY!"

What he had INTENEDED to say was actually "And so help me, I'll never tolerate ANYONE sullying my noble family!" Poor Ian was either going to be laughed at or stabbed at for pulling this. At the very least though, he had just created an interesting new form of entertainment. The worst part was when he broke into what to HIM was diabolical laughter, but to Linea would sound like a little kid on helium's giggling fit. "IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIIIIII!"

Five minutes of what could be interpreted as Arda's most bizarre form of torture, or perhaps it's strangest oration to date, passed. The Haste Spell wore off. Ian obviously was not aware of what Linea had heard him say, so he crossed his arms and harrumphed, confident his masterful way with words had stricken the fear of god into her. Oh how wrong he inevitably was...

Was he going to fight her? At least then she could see if that sword was just for show or if he actually had skill in wielding it...and if he didn't than she would make sure that it would find a better owner in her hands. Maybe even if he did have any skill, depending whether he was more skilled than her or not. She was sure that even if the sword was useless, anything elven made would fetch a pretty good price.

But then, to her confusion, he started...talking? If that was even talking. What was he trying to say?!? She couldn't make out a word of what he was saying, but he didn't sound so high-and-mighty anymore. He was making sounds that sounded akin to what she would hear if she stepped on a chipmunk. She blinked, staring at him for a moment, before she burst into laughter.

She continued to laugh for a moment, and her laughter grew even harder as he crossed his arms and gave her a self-absorbed harrumph. There went her theory about it being his time of the month. She was pretty sure that sudden high-pitched talking was something that didn't come with one's time of the month.

"What is that--a disease?!?" she asked, in between laughs, "That--better--not be--contagious!"

So much for taking him seriously. If he had drawn his sword, she might think differently of him, but now she had definitely crossed him off her list of possible threats. Even the half-nymph paladin was a greater threat than this loser. He did look rich though. Maybe if she played her cards right, she would be walking away from this with full pockets. Maybe...

Ian, strangely, had the sensation of time slowing down, once he had finished his Harrumphing. Time was slowed....and then stopped. He looked back and forth, at the motionless Linea, at the clouds frozen in the sky, and at the birds who were flying, and were now hanging suspended in the air. It was very surreal, he didn't even realize what had happened at first.

"What in the world? Time...What's happened to time!?"

"I Can answer that!"

An elderly man with a long white beard, wearing a sand-brown robe and carrying a staff tipped with an hourglass approached Ian, stepping out of a portal that looked like a shimmering, distorted clock face. "Ian DeSarva Vaner, you are trapped in a moment of time."

Ian was shocked. Not only by the man's words, but also at his appearance entirely.

"What!? Who...How...WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?"

The old man chuckled softly. "I am Chronorius! I am the physical manifestation of your perception of time, given voice by a lesser deity of time. As for why I'm here...well, this is your first time being Time-Frozen, so I figured I'd explain things to you. You may want to sit down."

Ian complied. Let's face it, what else could he do? "Alright Chronorius, tell me, I am all ears."

"Good! Usually they don't believe me so quickly!" Choronorius was relieved. Sure, he could see into the future, but he didn't like spoiling things for himself. SO he began to explain.

"You see Ian, there are a division of beings far higher than any god. With but a whim, and 3 seconds, any of them could obliterate creation as we know it. They control the very mechanics of reality, while we gods simply overlook and intervene if things get too out of hand. Now, whenever there is significant interaction between one or more beings, these "More Evidentely Mticulous BEings of Reaction, or Members for short, have planned it before hand, and they each preside over a small set of specific individuals' existances."

Ian interrupted at that. "Wait, so when I met this girl, or even Meglumar, That was..."

"Yes. The Members had planned it, Ian. Don't make that face! I'm about to get to why your trapped in time for a week!"

"A WEEK!? I'LL DEHYDRATE!"

"You're metabolism has been stopped too, Ian. Relax...Now, as I was saying. Usually, when things like this are planned, the Members set a schedule to things. One of the members, the one not acting as the member that presides over your existence, who took the same name as the girl before you, "Linea Miran", has not been present. In a fit of spite, The one who presides over YOUR existance, "Pancake Mix", ha-" And then Chronorius got interrupted again...

"Wait, what? She gets a deity named after her, and I get a F***ING BREAKFAST ITEM!?" Ian was clearly annoyed by this.

"Be Quiet, Ian!" And Chronorius, with a wave of his hand, stopped the time for Ian's vocal chords, essentially disabling his ability to speak. "Now then...As I was saying, Pancake Mix got annoyed with Linea Miran, so sent me here to explain things to you as a blatant way of pointing out her freakish week-long abscence. Actually, I've altered your perception of Freeze Time, when I finish speaking, the week period will be almost up! Your perceptions, and ability to speak, will be returned to you when your time in FreezeSpace ends. Though, the memories of what happened in here, as well as my explanation, will disappear from your memory until the next time you are sent into FreezeSpace. Oh, toodle-loo!"

And with that, Ian was returned to how he had been before he entered FreezeSpace. He blinked. "Huh...Felt odd for a sec there. Must be allergies." Then he noticed Linea Laughing hysterically.

"WHAT'S SO FUNNY?! And what Disease? I have no disease at all, I just casted haste and ranted at you, show SOME understanding, woman!"

Now, obviously Linea had no idea about what had gone on with the effeminate nymph/elf/human hybrid in front of her during the split second between the time he finished up to the time she reacted. Perhaps far off in some distant realm, one girl the same age as Linea was currently slumped over some futuristic device in guilt, realizing that because of certain issues in her life at the moment, she had contributed to Ian's being frozen in time for one week and resolving to work harder to speed up the passage of time.

Of course, poor Linea had no idea of any of that going on. All she noticed was that Ian was now talking about a haste spell. Oh, so that's what it was? She was wondering for a moment if he had swallowed a chipmunk or something and if she would have to take her sword and slice off his head to get it out (not a bad idea really).

"That was a Haste spell?!?" she asked, laughing slightly at the end of her sentence, "You sounded like someone stepped on a chipmunk or something."

That, at least, would be something that she could keep in her memory. If Ian wanted her to take him seriously, he had pretty much lost all chance of that ever happening. He had officially been taken off her list of threats and transferred to her list of annoying, yet occasionally amusing nuisances. She glanced over him again. Rich nuisances. Perhaps she could make this work to her advantage. Then again, Linea never had any patience for the long approach. She preferred things quickly, so if she was going to steal anything off him, she would probably wait for her opportunity and make a run for it.

"Stepped on a...Oh HELL NO, don't tell me I miscast the spell..." Ian slapped a hand to his forehead. "How mortifying! Me, a noble clansman, gibbering incoherantly! GAH!" Ian, frustrated, grabbed a handful of his cloak and twisted the fabric as a way to let off steam. Hmph. At any rate, this girl was 7 years younger than he was, and by the looks of it, not fully grown yet, due to a slightly lanky build. If it came to a fight, Ian had confidence in himself. He decided to start over.

"Ahem...What I had INTENDED TO SAY, in short, was that I am highly insulted by your implication I am but a windbag of an effeminate fop. Are you trying to aggravate me, girl? I am a noble, and I REFUSE to be spoken to in such a way by a self-centered little brat!"

Ever the Misanthropist, Ian had taken a disliking to Linea already. He wished the freaking spells he had purchased a few days earlier would take effect already, really. Of course, she was young, and perhaps simply foolish and misguided. If he had his chance, he would probably hint at his family's intentions for the world, and see how she reacted.

Not only would it be an excellent test of her character, if she thought it was a good idea, he could document her appearance, try to find out her name, and send word of her to the leading section of his family, the Fuhrers, and see if her bloodline would be a welcome addition. Odds were slim of that though, she seemed to be little else than a plain human.

A noble? Oh, just great. First a paladin, and then a noble. The type of people she disliked the most, and in order to boot. The gods were probably having a good laugh at her expense right now. He just had to be a noble, and an arrogant one too. Oh well, he was probably rich anyway. Linea was just beginning to contemplate how much money she could get if she kidnapped him and held him for ransom, but decided against it. She couldn't put up with his mouth for two minutes, let alone long enough to get anything out of him.

"I guess it's a good thing you don't talk to yourself, then," she said when he said that he refused to be spoken to by a self-centered little brat.

All right, so maybe she was self-centered, and maybe she was a bit on the small side, but brat? Now that was taking things a little too far. The brat was her paladin sister, not her. Besides, it was basically the pot calling the kettle black in this situation. It wasn't like she was even more of a brat than he was anyway.

"Oh, and I don't think you need a spell to gibber incoherently," she said, "You're good at doing that on your own."

Normal thieves would probably flinch at words longer than two syllables, but then again, Linea had a pretty good background. She was the daughter of a paladin after all, although she didn't like to admit it. Her father had taught them well, and she knew what most of those words meant. So, ignorant, she was not. She wouldn't allow this noble to talk down to her. If worse came to worst, she would have to cut him down a few inches, preferrably starting at his head.

A vein bulged visibly in Ian's neck. He was aware the spells he had purchased were now available. He COULD use his nymph powers in conjunction with the Enchantment spell to more or less enslave the girl, that he could. "It'd be so amusing to see this trash-talking b*tch put in her place..." Ian thought. He had to grin. But then again, he didn't want her following him around. He decided he'd lay out his cards out on the table, so to speak.

"Little girl. I speak arrogantly with reason."

And with that, Ian pointed his hand at a nearby bush and shot an Enervation spell at it, draining it of life and causing it to wither and turn brown.

"I don't know just the Haste spell, I know quite a few others. So STOP BEING SUCH A mullet, OR I'LL ROAST YOU UNTIL YOUR SKIN HAS THE CONSISTENCY OF A BREAKFAST SAUSAGE! "

Linea was clearly hammering on Ian's ego. He would snap and become VERY violent if he was pressed any further.