@craig: I like it

His sword reappearing was a nice touch, not to mention necessary

Here’s a writing tip: Don’t go out of character within the story itself- (is this ok change it to bone construct if you don't like it). Save the comments for the end.
* * * * *
Xandax woke suddenly. He looked around the room. The mirror still stood, large and mysterious. He noticed some pictures hanging along the walls. He didn’t remember seeing those. Then again, he had been too tired to really look around. Light streamed in through a window across the room.
Now he was
sure that hadn’t been there before. “Magic,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. With nothing else better to do, he looked out the window. A vast garden stretched as far as the eye could see. The sky was a strange light purple color, neither day nor night. It reminded him of descriptions he had heard of the Abyss. Looking down, he saw he was in a tall bluish-purple tower. The material seemed to pulse as he watched. It was cold and hard to the touch.
“
Thee vieew, yoou liikke?” whispered a voice on the wind.
Xandax spun around, hand reflexively straying to his sword. A mist-like creature, barely perceptible, floated before him. An aerial servant, if he remembered his lore.
“Excuse me, but how did you get in here?”
“
Throough thee walll, off courssse.” It passed through and reappeared to demonstrate.
“
I’vve seeen thee oone knoowwn as Raaiill doo itt tooo.” it added, reading the question in his eyes.
Xandax touched the wall. It seemed solid enough. “That’s great for him, but I don’t think I can do that.”
The creature seemed to shrug. “
I’vve seeen otheers usse thee miirroorsss.”
Xandax walked over to the mirror. It shimmered as he approached. Abruptly the reflection changed. No longer did it show an unshakable warrior, tempered by experience’s flaming brand. Instead it showed a kid, lonely and frightened. Himself. The apparition bowed his head and disappeared, replaced by his true reflection once again. The aerial servant stared back at him. He wondered if it had also seen.
Curious, Xandax extended a hand to touch the surface. It was solid. His mind wandered to thoughts of the assassin. The creature had said he walked right through the walls. Was Xandax just missing something, or did something unnatural hide behind the assassin’s shadowed eyes?
He looked at the mirror. To his surprise, Rail looked back from within. Wait...he wasn’t looking at Xandax. As if on cue, the vision seemed to turn. A haggard-looking Magus stood staring at Virdel, who gazed back silently. Instinctively he touched the glass, and this time it gave like water. It all gave him the feeling he was in some sort of twisted playhouse.
* * * * *
@Xandax: Hope that helps. I roleplayed your character as closely as I could
@Fas+craig: Now you know how to get about the Rift. You don't necessarily have to go to Magus's room though
@Aegis: The mage continues to stare at you intently, waiting for a response...and he’s getting some serious eye strain

It may seem pointless to retell the battle, but I actually have a reason for wanting you to do so. How Virdel tells it will be important
[ 11-24-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
[ 11-25-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]