As the conversation began, a shadow imp brought out Ethodi’s correct order. Snacks included. His full eyes bouncing back and forth between the two patrons even after he put everything down. When it was done he still didn’t move. Watching the two like one might watch an interesting play unfold.
“Travellers, daughters and sons of houses great and small, eager learners, we have decided to receive you. From the moment that you pass through these gates, you will no longer be Torma - the uninitiated - but Biro: students of the magical arts. Over the next five years, we will be ever at your side, helping you to grow and learn, to become women and men worthy of the names and reputations that you bear. We expect that most of you will return to your homes and your duties enriched in knowledge, ability, and spirit, but it is our hope that some of you will remain here and join the ranks of the Zenos. Whatever the future may hold for you, let us entrust it to the will of the Pentad. Now, without further delay, I welcome you, on behalf of every member of the Academy of Thaumaturgy, to Ersand’Enise.”
—————-
“Oh shite! The ceremony.”
A young man let out a startled groan, waking to the sudden realisation of the sounds he had ignored earlier. Bells ringing, people cheering, a cacophony of instruments in the distance. On top of that was the still hush it left behind, an absence of the nearby white noise caused by the usual hustle and bustle that should be there. Either of these anomalies should have alerted him earlier, it should have raised an internal alarm or warning. It was after all the whole reason he was here in this distant strange foreign land. But, as soon as the sounds assault his ears he had muffled them, choosing a peaceful sleep instead. Now sense had found him and panic set in.
He was supposed to be there, he was supposed to be a part of it. Would they not let him in if he was late. Why was he even late. Where was he.
As he breathed he could taste the air. It was thick and musty with the bodily scent of sweat and a tang of ale. A weight rest heavily upon his chest, warm and suffocating, pinning him to the soft mattress bellow. Black silky tendrils of hair danced across his chest as he shoved it aside. He groaned softly from the exertion, freeing himself only to find more restraints entwining and tangling with his limbs from the other side. With a bit more care he untangle the limbs entwined with his own, gently placing them back with the body from which they were attached. The womanly figure murmured as he did but did not stir, he could not see her face for it was half buried in a pillow and concealed by a mop of unruly red hair.
“Ohhhh shite.” he groaned.
Caught between these two seemingly unconscious woman he began to carefully sit up. He had to squint his eyes as they adjusted to the bright light peering through closed shutters and dancing upon the unsettled dust of the room. His head was throbbing, and the room began to spin as soon as he came to stand, causing him to nearly trip over a busty brunette passed out stark naked on the floor beside the bed.
“Oh shite, oh shite.” he grumbled regaining his balance and scanning the room with a faint franticism for his missing clothes. If he got out of here quick enough, where ever here was, he could still make the end of the procession. Nobody need know he nearly missed it. Oh how he wished he had a gift to cure hangovers, although right now even the thought of drawing made his stomach twist. Looking around he decided he would also like to know what happened here.
His belongings were soon spotted in the corner of the room, crumpled clothes, a small satchel and a pair of sturdy worn boots piled beneath a chair. He stumbled over towards them before noticing the two long lithe golden brown legs barring his access. His gaze rose steadily up the body parts to come upon an exotic woman in her entirety. A layer of multicoloured sheer shaw’s were draped over her form offering a (if only very slight) modicum of modesty. Jewellery adorned her wrists and hung low in her neckline, her blonde hair was fashionably fashioned in curls and a tower above her head. A pleasant smile touched her lightly painted lips while her emerald eyes bore into his soul with an intoxicating playfulness.
She was.... familiar.
“Ahh shite. Hh, how much do I owe?” Vyrik began to ask, making assumptions about the beautiful woman before him and fearing he had bought more than he could afford. He could not run away without his clothes... could he? It turned out he was only half right. ”Owe?” she asked raising her eyebrows in amusement as Vyrik planned his exit strategy. The beautiful elder woman rolled a delicate hand over to expose a small familiar coin pouch attached to a snapped string. It was not his yet it was also strangely familiar. It jingled with wealth as it bounced in her skilled hands. ”Nothing.” she continued.
“Oh shite...” he groaned yet once again, looking upon the small fortune he must have given her last night? yesterday? He couldn’t remember when. It didn’t matter now. He knelt before her and tried to fish for his clothes until he heard her whisper four simple little words into his ear. Words that that had the power to make him miss the ceremony.
”I... still... owe... you.” her voice was drawn out and held the sultry seduction of one who knew the power of her words and exactly what she was doing. Vyrik’s clothes remained exactly where they were for at least another hour, and it was even later after that before he finally ducked his head out under the doorway and made his way back into the streets of Mudville. ”We’re even now.” a sweet honeyed voice called out to him through a closing door, the womanly words kind but absolute. Vyrik couldn’t be sure if they were. Or even what there was to be even about. He was pretty sure he just had the night of his life but sadly couldn’t remember a thing about it.
The streets he realised were still empty with everyone being at the ceremony. It meant it wasn’t quite over yet. Vyrik, looking worse for wear, still somewhat dazed, confused and hungover, was standing out in the near empty street alone. Little did he know just how bad his appearance was. He was aware only by the pain but had not yet seen the black ring that supported his left eye or the large bump that had grown on his head. Both due to a beating he hadn’t a chance to try recall just yet. “I. I, think I just had an amazing night... but now I need to get to the academy.” He said aloud to no one in particular, perhaps himself, as he started jogging down the street regretting his life decisions with every thudding footstep. A procession wound its way, dual file, down the Godsroad, flanked on either side by lines of heraldry stretching into the distance. If he was quick he could just catch the tail end of it. But that would require an exertion of force he just didn’t feel he had...
Wakes up in a Mudville brothel hungover, battered and bruised after a big night he cannot fully recall. He is delayed by a house hostess for apparently having done something for them. Vyrik races through town to catch the end of the ceremony.
@Dark Light the inclusion of Mulsum as a warm drink with sugar and milk is fun, i wouldnt think to add either to a spiced honey wine. Did you find a version of the recipe that simmers or boils the spices in? cause Id love to see it, ive only made the drink myself as a overnight infusion drink.
You got given @LiegeLord‘s tea 😜 Sorry, I realise I didn’t make that very clear
Alwen crossed his arms, glaring quite annoyedly at the creature as it completely ignored him so the other customers got their orders.
Hmph the necromancer grunted as he swept the coin he placed upon the table back into the pouch that he had at his side 'How rude,' he thought to himself as he placed the pouch back 'Oh well not like it's the first time, anyways.'' shrugging the necromancer pulled a leather-bound book from the satchel slung over his shoulder and began to engross himself in it.
The shadow imp seemed to be growing distraught, it was looking at Alwen and bobbing its head as though talking but he heard nothing. When Alwen took the coins back the imp reached for him. There was a crackle of white light as the creatures movements were halted by an invisible barrier. Black blood dripped from its finger as it looked around wide-eyed in fear.
A judging a questioning gaze fell on the necromancer. The small trapped creature before had a slight tremble to its thin frame. It’s tail was raised at its side however, tense and ready.
@LiegeLord Dorian was, well, out of sorts today. Not yet quite settled back into things or his role here and a bout of loneliness had him sharing perhaps more than he should. He reaches over and takes a single silver bar, feeling it’s weight he studies it for a moment.
”I take all currencies, but would prefer not to get out the card scanner. Doesn’t do with the aesthetics of this place.” He says looking up from the silver with a small smile. ”A single silver is a bit short for our best tea but as its your first time that’s ok.”
He leans in a little close and almost whispers. ”Truth is the exchange is completely unnecessary, it simply offers a bit of normalcy and regularity. It ties people to where they’re from, it’s a single expectation that remains true. A small semi-constant that I can offer.” As he leans back he continues, still holding the silver. ”Something I believe a travelled man such as yourself doesn’t need.”
But he didn’t give the silver back. Instead with a nod he turned and walked back to the bar, heating some water for the tea when a new patron approached.
@ONL ”Of course we do.” he said, pulling up a bottle and preparing a short glass with ice just as quick as he replied. ”That will be 31 cents.”
Meanwhile @Song Book “Mollusks” it repeated, echoing Ethodi’s words as it stood staring at her, still leaning in closer, its eyes full of, curiosity? Adoration? There was a moments awkward pause before it said ”Right away!” and flew off.
No sooner had the shadow imp disappeared behind the kitchen door, another came fluttering over to her table. It flew somewhat slow and carefully, it’s attention on the steaming cup in its hands. This imp was slightly different from the other. Slimmer features, longer head and it had a small satchel around it’s waist. It placed the aromatic dark liquid down on the table, emptied the satchel beside it, (contents were a tea spoon, sugar cubes and little milk containers) gave Ethodi a look of disgust and then flew off.
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