The Other Witch: The Wolf Under the Tree

What few people ever mentioned when they described the Arcane Academy, was that the only way to get to it was to climb the God-only-knows-how-many-steps to the top.  The enchantments laden upon the Academy prevented all but the most powerful immortals, and school faculty, from teleporting into the grounds.  Now Salvia was a pretty strong witch, not to brag, and she could feel enough loose fibers in the invisible weave that made up the enchantment to know that it had been pierced a few times before, but she could also tell that none of the gaps would have been big enough for her to slip past without considerably more power than she could muster with forty days rest and meditation.
Hack probably possessed the needed power, but he'd given no indication of having any prowess with magic thus far.  Salvia doubted that he had any magical power beyond that of the magical items he carried, and a few ancient wards.  Not to say he was any less for it, she wouldn't have staked her life on a fight with the man.

At the top of the stairs there was a little clearing, a sort of rest stop before further, fewer stairs leading to the school itself.  There were benches, a restroom facility, and a few tall, older trees.  Under one of these trees, towards which Hack was now advancing, was an almost humanoid figure.  Though it was some distance away, she could make out the long muzzle and mottled grey and brown fur of a Ga-Vok.  His ears rose to sharp points, neither sagging nor scarred, a sign of youth and having not been on the bad end of a battle yet.  Since none but students had any cause to be at the top of those god-awful stairs, Salvia felt she could assume it was by prowess that such battle had been avoided.  Physical Combat was a required course at the Academy, or so she'd heard.  There was a book, too small to be a textbook but too hard to be a notebook and thus most likely for his own entertainment, closed in his lap.  Beside him, leaned against the side of the tree, was a great-axe, double bladed and reaching a point on both sides.  Like most weapons of the Ga-Vok, it was etched with scenes of wolves and other symbols that bore no significance to those not of the canine race.
"I expected you to wear your own cloak."  His voice betrayed him as a male, though it was not so readily obvious to her Nieldic ears as would have been the gender of a human speaker.  "After all, how else would one know the face of the bringer of great destinies?"
"It rests on the shoulders of one who needs it more than I, and shall be recovered at such a time when it is no longer needed.  Such is the nature of these things."
"Perhaps you shall tell me further of the nature of things later, Old Cloak.  For now let us focus on the purpose of your visit.  To what adventure is this one called?"
Hack laughed and looked back at Salvia.  "This is why I have always loved the Ga-Vok, nothing is without purpose to them, and they are always so true to the point of things, in their own fashion."  He turned back to the Ga-Vok and continued, "A great threat is rising, and it is of a nature that garners my action.  The crown of Thalia Immersfeld, my ancient foe, is in danger of being stolen by the fell enchantress, Elda, the Maelstrom.  If it were to fall into her hands, even the strongest of immortals could not hope to land a blow against her and all would be helpless in the face of her power."
"Really?  Because I've heard tell of Immortals greater even than the pantheon, assassin's who tread beyond time, and Petra, the Paladin.  You mean to say that even they could not harm her?"  Salvia realized that she was operating on little more than rumors, but rumors about immortals had a bad habit of being true.
"If such immortals were to exist, then yes, even they.  The enchantment upon the crown is unlike any other, Thalia vested the might of the Gravagan race itself in that crown, that it would grow in strength as they grew in number.  It is an enchantment of fortune, and there is only form of power greater.  No blow of sword, no bolt of spellfire, or blast of cannon can strike the wearer, for by some contrivance of circumstance their aim will be thrown.  Even should all the fleets of the universe take aim upon her, they would find their shells both duds and off course, or worse.  It is the sole reason I never defeated her, and I am ashamed I did not keep a closer watch upon it."
The Ga-Vok raised his axe to his shoulder and let the book vanish into slip-space.  He turned to face them and spoke softly, "Well then, Old Cloak, we must be off.  There is little time to waste and I doubt I am the only hero to whom you are extending this call."