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Our medieval re-enactment society is not actually for re-enactment.
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Oh wow, telepathy! "I hear you!" she whispers back excitedly. This absolutely has combat utility but learning how to use it effectively will be a whole thing, wow.

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Nicole does not hear Sergia. It's one-way.

She flicks the fabric off with a practised wrist twist and holds it out to Sergia. "Don't try to communicate a ton, it's not exactly got gigabit bandwidth. The main thing is in recalling people. Give me a second..."

She fishes her phone out of her pocket and dials a number. Sergia will hear one half of the brief conversation: "Hey! Yeah, it's going well... yep, just got back... oh, nothing much, you're heading to the car park with some bags around now, right? Cool.... yes... would you like a quick lift? Okay, give me a minute, newbie's got the veil. Yep. See you in a sec."

Nicole hangs up. "Alright, I figured Raoulin would be an easy person to get for the first time. You ready to try and summon him?" 

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It being one-way is strictly less useful but still very much so. "Oh wow, it teleports people?! That's so cool! How do I do it?" She very gently and carefully attempts to arrange the veil on her own head the way Sir Nicole had it on hers.

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"So I'm not actually certain what it looks like from the perspective of other people and I'm pretty sure it doesn't strictly count as teleporting... Look around for the outlines in the distance and beckon that way. You have to say something fancy - the exact words don't actually matter, but invoke the ties that bind you, use the name, ask the target to be by your side - and put it over your eyes for a second. Don't worry about trying to focus or meditate or pull power out of your soul or whatever, magic doesn't care about an emotional state until it's lasted a year or two." 

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She looks through the veil (that's so cool and so different, she'll have to get used to it quickly) and says, after a moment's thought, "Raoulin, my teacher's teacher, my fellow Atlantian, come swift as the wind and join us!" (She's not sure if she's allowed to call Sir Nicole her knight yet.) (If she's going to use this in combat she'll need to either figure out the shortest possible invocation that works, or get good at speaking fast.)

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Magic feels good to use. Perhaps a little tiring, but the main feeling is one of intense belonging - of how good it is to be Atlantian, to love Atlantia, to have a place where you will always be welcome, to have faith and know you are faithful, to stand side by side with people and know that they have every reason to defend you and you have every reason to work with them, to sing patriotic songs with one voice, to feel a part of something greater, to be an heir to a proud tradition of excellence and service and strength, to unswervingly follow a star and feel no doubt about your sense of true north. 

It's an intense flash of feeling that comes directly from the veil and then probably fades, though whether and how it fades depends on how Sergia reacts. 

With the veil over her eyes, Sergia doesn't see Raoulin appear. When she moves it, he's just there.

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Sir Raoulin has several large plastic boxes in his arms which he sets down immediately. He dusts his hands off and claps his hands twice. "Oh, nicely done, Nicole. You've figured out a whole new way to make the squire carry all the heavy shit. A true innovator." 

He has a warm smile for Sergia. He doesn't know her as well as he might like, but if nothing else, being able to use the veil at all is proof that she's a true and loyal addition to the war effort. 

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Huh. Nicole has asked people what that looks like several times, and they've always just said they weren't sure, and Nicole was all 'how can you possibly not be sure, you were watching' but.... wow, yep, she really isn't sure what just happened. It's sort of like she got intensely absentminded and lost in thought for a second and then when she jerked herself out of her reverie, her old knight was just there. How could she possibly have just not been paying attention...? 

"Maximum range of a bit under three miles at sea level, cooldown of several hours if we use it at a range like this.... she'll have to do plenty of the old-fashioned kind of carrying all the heavy things." 

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Sergia smiles back! She just did magic with a magic artifact and she's going to get to fight a dragon! (Having loyalty-feelings directly stirred up in her head is maybe a problem in the long term, but she does in fact love Atlantia and if it's addictive or something Sir Nicole will warn her about it so it's fine and she lets herself enjoy it.)

"What's the cooldown like at typical combat ranges? I'm assuming it mostly gets used for getting injured people back out of the melee. And would you like help getting those the rest of the way to your car?"

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"There's no single typical combat range. I've found I'm basically limited by my own invocations and gestures and reaction times at sub fifty metre ranges. About a minute at two hundred metres, about three hours at the six hundred metres we just did, multiple days at max range. Your line-of-sight isn't blocked by most narrow obstacles and mostly people won't be randomly behind super-thick castle walls or metallic sheets, so your three-mile range is mostly about the curvature of the earth. Be really careful if you're up on a big hill with a great view, because if you try to fetch someone from fifty miles away then I don't know how long you'll lock yourself out for."

"You can use it on people who aren't injured. It lets people go into closer range and take more risks, if they know you're immediately going to fetch them back out once they get their hit in. For now don't use it on anyone who isn't injured, explicitly asking for it, or looking like they're imminently going to die, or you'll risk messing someone up who was very happy where they were. If someone with a glowing shield is standing in front of other people looking protective, feel free to fetch the people hiding behind the one with a magic shield, do not fetch the person who is carrying a magic shield or you'll get people killed."

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"Don't feel like you need to fetch Nicky much. She's tougher than she looks. Mostly bombproof. And yes, I'd love help, if you're not needing to run to your camp to help them pack down." 

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"For the record, he is the only person on this planet allowed to call me Nicky, and that's only because I lost a bet. Don't try me."

Nicole gathers up all her things. "I need to run these to Rosemary camp. Sergia, you will try not to die if I leave you with Sir Raoulin?" 

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"Don't push the range past three miles, don't grab anyone who's not asking injured or about to get killed, don't grab shieldbearers off the guys behind them, got it," she says, carefully folding the veil bag into its box and putting the box at the bottom of her handbag. "I will try not to die and expect I'll succeed."

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"Okay. Raoulin, no telling her stupid stories about me falling off horses until she gets a red belt so I can order her not to repeat them."

Nicole waves and heads off to Rosemary camp with shopping. 

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"I have no idea why she thinks I would do that. None at all." A very innocent look, spoiled when he can't resist a wink and a wicked grin. 

The boxes are a much more reasonable load when each person picks up half of them.

"My car's not far, it's the big red truck over there. She's not working you to death already is she?" 

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Heave ho. "Nah, just--being effortlessly cool in a way that makes me feel competitive, but I have no effortless coolness skill with which to compete, so instead I carry things. When you said she was hard to kill, did you just mean she's really good at not getting hit, or is there magic for toughness?"

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"I'm sure she'll teach you to be effortlessly cool. I can't help - she sure as hell didn't get it from me."

Raoulin has an easy charm, but it's a sort of rough-and-ready, humble, simple-hedge-knight friendliness - very different to Nicole's dignified, polished femininity. He wears jeans, mismatched socks, and a hoodie which has TYPICAL ATLANTIAN THUG across the back. The front of the hoodie has a cartoonish picture of a unicornate seahorse, armed with boxing gloves on each fin and using its tail to hold a stack of folding chairs. It is actually quite easy to believe that Nicole did not get her sense of style from this man. 

"Probably the relevant thing for the near future is that she's fireproof and generally reasonably dragonproof. Though not infinitely."

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"That is both good, and good to know! Is it generally considered polite to ask someone what magic they have? I'd like to get more of a sense of what's out there."

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"You can ask, though some folk don't like thinking of it as magic. Just like how some folk will rather think of a dragon as a dragon, and others will call it just a type of demon. Just because we don't understand exactly how it works don't make it magic in my opinion."

"Let's see... I have a very little truesight, I've got a feather-light unbreakable lasso, I conjure horses and food - that's two separate powers - my sword glows when there's enemies nearby and I can be invisible. And I'm quite lucky. Don't try and keep track of everything everyone does, you'll go crazy remembering it all, and you don't want to be expecting an assist from someone when a specific thing is on cooldown. Short version is, I'm a scout and a ranger, and everything in my powerset is there to help me do that."

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"That makes sense. Though I assume the horses are temporary. What did you mean by, just because we don't understand how it works doesn't make it magic? That there's probably a way it all works that scientists could theoretically figure out if they got the chance?"

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"I don't know. Maybe it's God. Maybe it's super scientifically advanced aliens. Maybe I'm just not a fancy-pants smart guy who'd be able to figure it out, but maybe you will and someday they'll be talking about how it's all based on virtuion particles and moraliwaves."

Raoulin reaches his red truck and tosses the boxes into the back, then reaches out for the ones Sergia is carrying. 

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"Not me, I'm too bad at math. But it'd be good if someone did." She hands over her stack of boxes. "I should go help finish packing out Kalomeros camp, but I'll see you later."

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"See you at dinner!"

Raoulin jogs all the way back to his camp. He gets bored if he doesn't move fast.

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She hikes back to camp, slightly less fast but still briskly, and joins in striking the larger tents and any camp infrastructure that hasn't been piled into a truck yet as well as dealing with her own small tent and large suitcase.

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Roger is blasting My Chemical Romance from a Bluetooth speaker and singing along at the top of his voice while he scrubs grease and burned food off from the borrowed kitchen equipment. 

"NA NA NA NA NA NA NA - oh hi Sergia - NA NA NA NA NA NA NA MAKE NO APOLOGY NA NA NA NA NA NA NA IT'S DEATH OR VICTORY NA NA NA NA NA NA NA ON MY AUTHORITY CRASH AND BURN YOUNG AND LOADED - you here to lend a hand? - DROP LIKE A BULLETSHELL NA NA NA NA -" 

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