It would be many miles southeast, to the point of being perhaps multiple months of travel by regular means to get there. A rough estimate of the region would put it between Vaal Kastrix and the Western Neutral Territories, somewhere by the coast.
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It wouldn't specify - the only way to tell would be to pay attention to what's being written as the scroll and quill stop near a person.
@ERode
Upon reaching the other side of the portal, all would come into vision immediately. It was a sunny day, and from the view of the cliff directly in front stretching off into the great blue horizon, the scene felt like painted perfection. Crystal blue waters crashed against the rocks below, and seagulls sang their crooked songs off into the clouds as if to complete the idea of a photographer's paradise. Behind the clockwork contraption was, plainly and simply, a cottage. Raja walked towards it with the uncaring saunter of an individual that had danced this dance many times, Gulliver slung over her shoulder and still out cold.
Smoke emerged from the chimney, and torchlight could be seen from one of the windows. By all accounts, if this was within the borders of the Union, it was intentionally humble. With more of a look around, it seemed as if the cottage, and this whole cliff by extension, was in some kind of carved out piece of land that dwelt below a vast, cavernous overhang. It was a place that civilization had not touched with its corrupting hand, still free to exist in exile, either in defiance of loud bustling streets or simply in indifference to them.
Raja would knock thrice upon the door with her body leaning over, clearly unenthused at having to lug an unconscious student around. Three beats later, as if she were expected in advance, the oaken door would creak open to reveal a sickly-looking gnome man. With a single glance at Raja, it was as if he knew why she was there, and begrudgingly stepped aside to let her in - his gaze wholly focused towards the principal, addressing her more as an intruder than a welcomed guest.
"I can't keep doing this. You know I can't. It's going to burn out," the gnome would finally blurt out in a wheezing voice as Raja cleared the doorway and entered into a humble living room, complete with a burning fireplace and multiple sofas.
"That's just the price you'll pay. We can't afford to worry about such mundane problems. Can you do it again, or not? If not, you know that-"
"I know. I know, every time. You don't need to talk me into it. I've already let you in, haven't I? Set him down," the gnome would cut her off, his sentence ending with a sharp cough as he gestures towards a sofa near the fireplace and limps to sit down on it. All the while, Raja is looking about the room as she slowly wanders over, eventually setting Bronsteel down next to the gnome.
@AThousandCurses
"Hey! Hey, hey, hey!"
Emelie bolted out of her chair and stormed towards Chunji, side-eyeing for a while before completely blowing her lid the moment she saw the boy tearing into himself repeatedly. Her face was the very embodiment of concern, hands on hips as she loomed over him like an angry mom. She pointed first at his scalpel, then at his hand.
"This is still a public place! You can't just... I dunno, hurt yourself over and over like that! That's just not how you're supposed to do it, it's more..."
Finger to chin, swaying side to side in thought to find the right words, before the metaphorical lightbulb arose in her mind. Looking back at him, Emelie would appear disturbed. There was an air about her, as if the entire scene made her deeply uncomfortable. The realization struck her all at once.
"This is your first time trying to learn Heal, isn't it? Your first ever casts? Normally, the rule of thumb is to start by practicing on injured animals rather than actual people - or, Astra forbid, yourself. It's utter insanity, and it's only good if you plan on completely screwing up how your subconscious mind takes in essence."
Taking a seat next to him at the table, she leaned back in her chair, waving her cane around in the air haphazardly and aimlessly. Her eyes focused on something far away, perhaps a memory rather than an actual physical place in the library, as she released a deep exhale. There was apprehension in her body language, as if this were a familiar sight to her.
"If you spend too much time associating healing with self-harm and focus too much on the desperation over feelings of warmth or empathy, your mind will eventually twist that, y'see. Irreversible change, such that you'll only see helping others as transactional at best and a burden at worst. I've seen it before, people who try to rush these things. There are consequences for advancing so rapidly in something that's intended to take time, trust me. The prodigious and the desperate each suffer worst, in a life of study."
Turning to Chunji, Emelie's furrowed eyebrows would burrow into him, wondering if she'd gotten her point across. There was no way to know how the boy would react to this, seeing as how they barely knew one another, so the pale girl's azure eyes remained trained firmly on the self-harm healer, taking in his every movement and expression to determine what sort of person he was.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
The hooded Undermage raised her eyebrows with a little nod of acknowledgement towards Hildegunde, eyes still firmly shut as her lips curled upwards. If there was a way to properly show respect to a high society wizard, it'd be to give them the honor of speaking aloud their full name and title; it seemed that such respect was given back, the head advisor looking very pleased with herself. It was an arduous thirty year journey to ascend from Undermage to Arcmage, after all, and regardless of the point of said journey she was at, every day would be a struggle of the self.
"A strong introduction begins and ends with respect to the details and commitment to rapport. In that regard, thank you for making use of my full name, as it is exquisite to hear sing from the mouth of another. For now though, child, you may call me Nicole. I was informed by Principal Raja that such a compromise would be preferred by most."
Nicole would lean forward on her desk, hands clasped in front of her in thought as she allowed the trio to speak their minds and make their case. With a more stoic expression than moments prior, she would point at each of them one after the other in quick succession before placing that very same finger to her forehead in thought, an idea clearly coming to her.
"You were not all placed on a brigade in advance, were you? That was not to happen until later. But between names like Valen Leuvalt or Gulliver Bronsteel receiving special treatment from Raja, I suppose it could be expected that others would be privy to unique circumstances. This is a concentrated hub of unique circumstances, after all."
Her closed gaze turned to each of them after a moment, taking them in and pondering something.
"No, I suppose not. As a collective, the air of a well-acquainted group does not suit you. The winds paint the aura of near strangers, rather, and yet the compatibility of your prime essences with one another is unarguable. Very unusual."
The levitating scroll and quill at her side would begin to move around the three girls, the quill beginning to write various words at a rapid pace as it passed by each of them, pausing a moment as it hovered near each. If any of them looked at what was written on the scroll at any time, it would become obvious what it was.
Emotions. The quill was taking note on the scroll, with masterful penmanship, the emotions strongest at the forefront of each of their minds as it patrolled the room. With each word written, Nicole would either give a small nod in the scroll's direction, or a muttered, "Hm." It wasn't long before the scroll and quill had made their trip about the room, and returned to her side. All of the emotions were on full display for everybody present to review, and Nicole would raise a finger to the list while maintaining her closed gaze on the trio.
"You will need to convince me that it would be a wise choice to make. Sell me on the idea, I want to be talked into it. Given that you are not in the same brigade, the argument of bettering your teamwork would fall utterly flat, as would the idea of bonding with friends - something that this school was not founded with the intent to take on as a priority. And do tell me how the words on this scroll might perhaps alter your plans, if at all?"
CLIFFSIDE COTTAGE
Upon reaching the other side of the portal, all would come into vision immediately. It was a sunny day, and from the view of the cliff directly in front stretching off into the great blue horizon, the scene felt like painted perfection. Crystal blue waters crashed against the rocks below, and seagulls sang their crooked songs off into the clouds as if to complete the idea of a photographer's paradise. Behind the clockwork contraption was, plainly and simply, a cottage. Raja walked towards it with the uncaring saunter of an individual that had danced this dance many times, Gulliver slung over her shoulder and still out cold.
Smoke emerged from the chimney, and torchlight could be seen from one of the windows. By all accounts, if this was within the borders of the Union, it was intentionally humble. With more of a look around, it seemed as if the cottage, and this whole cliff by extension, was in some kind of carved out piece of land that dwelt below a vast, cavernous overhang. It was a place that civilization had not touched with its corrupting hand, still free to exist in exile, either in defiance of loud bustling streets or simply in indifference to them.
Raja would knock thrice upon the door with her body leaning over, clearly unenthused at having to lug an unconscious student around. Three beats later, as if she were expected in advance, the oaken door would creak open to reveal a sickly-looking gnome man. With a single glance at Raja, it was as if he knew why she was there, and begrudgingly stepped aside to let her in - his gaze wholly focused towards the principal, addressing her more as an intruder than a welcomed guest.
"I can't keep doing this. You know I can't. It's going to burn out," the gnome would finally blurt out in a wheezing voice as Raja cleared the doorway and entered into a humble living room, complete with a burning fireplace and multiple sofas.
"That's just the price you'll pay. We can't afford to worry about such mundane problems. Can you do it again, or not? If not, you know that-"
"I know. I know, every time. You don't need to talk me into it. I've already let you in, haven't I? Set him down," the gnome would cut her off, his sentence ending with a sharp cough as he gestures towards a sofa near the fireplace and limps to sit down on it. All the while, Raja is looking about the room as she slowly wanders over, eventually setting Bronsteel down next to the gnome.
@AThousandCurses
LIBRARY
"Hey! Hey, hey, hey!"
Emelie bolted out of her chair and stormed towards Chunji, side-eyeing for a while before completely blowing her lid the moment she saw the boy tearing into himself repeatedly. Her face was the very embodiment of concern, hands on hips as she loomed over him like an angry mom. She pointed first at his scalpel, then at his hand.
"This is still a public place! You can't just... I dunno, hurt yourself over and over like that! That's just not how you're supposed to do it, it's more..."
Finger to chin, swaying side to side in thought to find the right words, before the metaphorical lightbulb arose in her mind. Looking back at him, Emelie would appear disturbed. There was an air about her, as if the entire scene made her deeply uncomfortable. The realization struck her all at once.
"This is your first time trying to learn Heal, isn't it? Your first ever casts? Normally, the rule of thumb is to start by practicing on injured animals rather than actual people - or, Astra forbid, yourself. It's utter insanity, and it's only good if you plan on completely screwing up how your subconscious mind takes in essence."
Taking a seat next to him at the table, she leaned back in her chair, waving her cane around in the air haphazardly and aimlessly. Her eyes focused on something far away, perhaps a memory rather than an actual physical place in the library, as she released a deep exhale. There was apprehension in her body language, as if this were a familiar sight to her.
"If you spend too much time associating healing with self-harm and focus too much on the desperation over feelings of warmth or empathy, your mind will eventually twist that, y'see. Irreversible change, such that you'll only see helping others as transactional at best and a burden at worst. I've seen it before, people who try to rush these things. There are consequences for advancing so rapidly in something that's intended to take time, trust me. The prodigious and the desperate each suffer worst, in a life of study."
Turning to Chunji, Emelie's furrowed eyebrows would burrow into him, wondering if she'd gotten her point across. There was no way to know how the boy would react to this, seeing as how they barely knew one another, so the pale girl's azure eyes remained trained firmly on the self-harm healer, taking in his every movement and expression to determine what sort of person he was.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
GIRLS' DORM
The hooded Undermage raised her eyebrows with a little nod of acknowledgement towards Hildegunde, eyes still firmly shut as her lips curled upwards. If there was a way to properly show respect to a high society wizard, it'd be to give them the honor of speaking aloud their full name and title; it seemed that such respect was given back, the head advisor looking very pleased with herself. It was an arduous thirty year journey to ascend from Undermage to Arcmage, after all, and regardless of the point of said journey she was at, every day would be a struggle of the self.
"A strong introduction begins and ends with respect to the details and commitment to rapport. In that regard, thank you for making use of my full name, as it is exquisite to hear sing from the mouth of another. For now though, child, you may call me Nicole. I was informed by Principal Raja that such a compromise would be preferred by most."
Nicole would lean forward on her desk, hands clasped in front of her in thought as she allowed the trio to speak their minds and make their case. With a more stoic expression than moments prior, she would point at each of them one after the other in quick succession before placing that very same finger to her forehead in thought, an idea clearly coming to her.
"You were not all placed on a brigade in advance, were you? That was not to happen until later. But between names like Valen Leuvalt or Gulliver Bronsteel receiving special treatment from Raja, I suppose it could be expected that others would be privy to unique circumstances. This is a concentrated hub of unique circumstances, after all."
Her closed gaze turned to each of them after a moment, taking them in and pondering something.
"No, I suppose not. As a collective, the air of a well-acquainted group does not suit you. The winds paint the aura of near strangers, rather, and yet the compatibility of your prime essences with one another is unarguable. Very unusual."
The levitating scroll and quill at her side would begin to move around the three girls, the quill beginning to write various words at a rapid pace as it passed by each of them, pausing a moment as it hovered near each. If any of them looked at what was written on the scroll at any time, it would become obvious what it was.
Emotions. The quill was taking note on the scroll, with masterful penmanship, the emotions strongest at the forefront of each of their minds as it patrolled the room. With each word written, Nicole would either give a small nod in the scroll's direction, or a muttered, "Hm." It wasn't long before the scroll and quill had made their trip about the room, and returned to her side. All of the emotions were on full display for everybody present to review, and Nicole would raise a finger to the list while maintaining her closed gaze on the trio.
"You will need to convince me that it would be a wise choice to make. Sell me on the idea, I want to be talked into it. Given that you are not in the same brigade, the argument of bettering your teamwork would fall utterly flat, as would the idea of bonding with friends - something that this school was not founded with the intent to take on as a priority. And do tell me how the words on this scroll might perhaps alter your plans, if at all?"
Also.
<Snipped quote>
How do you pronounce this? :)
Nix-hallv-fova-meenay-kannaymose
Also, the logo looks badass! That’s what you see before the banger OP drops for sure.
@ERode
The path Raja took was rather direct, admittedly. Seeing as how there was almost nobody wandering the town's streets proper yet, the vast majority of students still settling into their rooms or taking to the clinic for healing. Her every breath was measured, but with all the cussing under her breath even from a distance, it was as if all professionalism dropped while lugging the sleeping Bronsteel through the streets. After taking proper care to not drop the boy out of sheer frustration, the most notable thing was that she had long since cleared away from many of the primary establishments by the main plaza, including the clinic, continuing to hobble along until turning down an alleyway.
This alley, however, led nowhere. A tried and true dead end, by all accounts, except Raja did not seem to pay that any mind. She would briefly set Gulliver down against a wall, and removed the lids of three nearby trash cans clumped together in a triangular pattern, placing each removed lid on top of the trash can to its immediate right. Upon doing this and tracing a symbol at the top of each with arcane writing, a portal would open from the ground near the dead end wall. It almost sounded like waves crashing against rocks - a raging ocean, an all-consuming whirlpool, an eldritch azure with its open maw awaiting the arrival of the one who summoned it forth. Unlike some portals, there was no way to see what was on the other side. It was an inky world beneath, and all that seemed to await was the murky depths of uncertainty.
"Can't believe this," she would mutter as she once more slung Bronsteel over her shoulder and hopped into the portal. The moment she disappeared inside, the portal would close and the lids would each return to their original cans. The signs burned into the lids would fade soon after this as well, leaving no trace that anyone was ever here. All at once, mundanity returned to the alley. The slightest lingering of essence, felt by those looking for it, was all that remained as proof that such a scene moments prior was even real at all.
@AThousandCurses
As Chunji sat with his book studying, the specifics of 'Heal' were revealed to him. It began with the concept of what it means to heal, and how that basic goal has been diverged from over the course of centuries. It would describe the origins of the spell in the year 87 SR, when a forgotten Umbralist cleric wept for the deaths of her comrades on a hunting expedition to drive back a foul beast known as a 'Lycan', or, in more modern terms, a 'Werewolf'. Nowadays, such a curse was one long since extinct after Rekordian Queen Carmine made the decree that all sufferers of lycanthropy were to be wiped from the face of the planet, deeming them a mockery of humanity. Regardless, this unknown Umbralist reportedly found a single comrade that survived their battle with one such beast, but barely. She loomed over them, her eyes drowning in tears as she channeled every last ounce of essence within her towards her dying friend. The emotional essences of 'compassion' and 'regret' mixed with the newly building essence of 'desperation' within her, fusing into what became known as the first healing brought forth through willpower alone. It was weak, but it provided enough to close off the most fatal injuries - long enough for a second party to find them.
The woman, however, did not make it, instead succumbing to rebound with a body that was not prepared to channel essence even one more time that day. The book recounted this with the note that it would be vital to think on this woman's experience and internalize what she must have felt in order to properly become a caster of Heal to its fullest potential; a true desire to save others and a compassion for their struggles was paramount. It ended that tale with the detail that the woman, though her original name long forgotten, was commemorated as Healer Guide Jeiros, one of the Six Guides of the Umbralist faith - comparable to saints, in other religions.
After covering the origins and lore of the spell and how integral it was to the progress of magic on a grander scale, the rest of the section detailed the finer points of casting. The actual motion was the simplest part, being an open hand raised towards the intended target. More importantly was the specific fusion of emotional essences invoking kindness and empathy towards others, inner peace, and above all, the true desire within the caster's mind to mend another's wounds and see their life continue. The simplest cast of Heal was to touch someone with this casting motion and these emotional essences channeled, though it also detailed other, more complex methods such as ranged casting or radial channeling. Such methods were not recommended for beginners, however, noting that emotional essence quickly dies amidst the world's winds after a short period away from its emanator, and so it would require immense focus and practice to see such targeted essence to its intended recipient in full.
It would be up to Chunji how, when and where he would practice these things, of course. Battle raged on from Emelie's screen, and she even laughed a few times before covering her mouth, realizing she was not only in a library, but was indeed the librarian. With the memory of a goldfish, though, it wouldn't be long before this cycle would repeat.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
"Oh, that bitch? Yeah, her victims recovered right away. Can't say I know what her malfunction was in the first place, but at least it got sorted. Heard she was extra crispy after that, and that's exactly what I wanna hear. Didn't bother to look at her once she fell, was just really glad she was out of the way. Who gave such egotistical brats such power, anyway? If Astra's real, she's lost her gods-forsaken mind."
The dagger perked up immediately upon being tapped on the shoulder by her unwilling roommate, ending her rant short after seeing that the pair was now next in line. "Alright, let's get this sorted and never see each other again, got it?"
"Oh, we'll see each other again. I'll mash you into the pavement once they start asking students to spar with each other!" Sparks flew, the hallway heating up with loose essence, and the two stormed into the advisor's office without breaking eye contact.
Three minutes passed before the two trudged out the door, their eyes painted with defeat. The dagger girl would look at the trio and merely stutter out a pitiful, "Good luck..." She and her new roommate would begrudgingly shuffle off after that, all fight having left them in an instant. A woman's laughter could be heard from the other side of the door alongside banging against a desk. After a few beats, it would decline into chuckles and then muttering sighs, before the voice would announce, "Next!" There was no one else in front of the trio, signaling their turn to enter.
Should they enter, they would find themselves inside a humble office space, complete with bookshelves detailing various arcane studies with a particular bias for abjuration - protection magic and wards. Seated behind an imposing oak desk was an elven woman with her eyes closed and a dark blue hooded cape with golden lining and a velvet red inside. Those vaguely knowledgeable of Vaal Shaktan culture would know this as the cape of an Undermage - the rank directly below Arcmage, the pinnacle of magic accomplishment in Shaktan society. "A plight awaits, I can almost hear it. Do take a seat, darlings, and do not but fear a wit!"
Three wooden chairs would appear in front of the woman's desk, her eyes still remaining closed, with a quill and levitating scroll now at her side as she awaited them to be seated and state their case. A small smile graced her, devious and yet curious as she leaned in over her desk.
"I am Nyxhoilv'phvamineknmos, but you may all call me Nicole, or Head Advisor if you prefer."
TOWN
The path Raja took was rather direct, admittedly. Seeing as how there was almost nobody wandering the town's streets proper yet, the vast majority of students still settling into their rooms or taking to the clinic for healing. Her every breath was measured, but with all the cussing under her breath even from a distance, it was as if all professionalism dropped while lugging the sleeping Bronsteel through the streets. After taking proper care to not drop the boy out of sheer frustration, the most notable thing was that she had long since cleared away from many of the primary establishments by the main plaza, including the clinic, continuing to hobble along until turning down an alleyway.
This alley, however, led nowhere. A tried and true dead end, by all accounts, except Raja did not seem to pay that any mind. She would briefly set Gulliver down against a wall, and removed the lids of three nearby trash cans clumped together in a triangular pattern, placing each removed lid on top of the trash can to its immediate right. Upon doing this and tracing a symbol at the top of each with arcane writing, a portal would open from the ground near the dead end wall. It almost sounded like waves crashing against rocks - a raging ocean, an all-consuming whirlpool, an eldritch azure with its open maw awaiting the arrival of the one who summoned it forth. Unlike some portals, there was no way to see what was on the other side. It was an inky world beneath, and all that seemed to await was the murky depths of uncertainty.
"Can't believe this," she would mutter as she once more slung Bronsteel over her shoulder and hopped into the portal. The moment she disappeared inside, the portal would close and the lids would each return to their original cans. The signs burned into the lids would fade soon after this as well, leaving no trace that anyone was ever here. All at once, mundanity returned to the alley. The slightest lingering of essence, felt by those looking for it, was all that remained as proof that such a scene moments prior was even real at all.
@AThousandCurses
LIBRARY
As Chunji sat with his book studying, the specifics of 'Heal' were revealed to him. It began with the concept of what it means to heal, and how that basic goal has been diverged from over the course of centuries. It would describe the origins of the spell in the year 87 SR, when a forgotten Umbralist cleric wept for the deaths of her comrades on a hunting expedition to drive back a foul beast known as a 'Lycan', or, in more modern terms, a 'Werewolf'. Nowadays, such a curse was one long since extinct after Rekordian Queen Carmine made the decree that all sufferers of lycanthropy were to be wiped from the face of the planet, deeming them a mockery of humanity. Regardless, this unknown Umbralist reportedly found a single comrade that survived their battle with one such beast, but barely. She loomed over them, her eyes drowning in tears as she channeled every last ounce of essence within her towards her dying friend. The emotional essences of 'compassion' and 'regret' mixed with the newly building essence of 'desperation' within her, fusing into what became known as the first healing brought forth through willpower alone. It was weak, but it provided enough to close off the most fatal injuries - long enough for a second party to find them.
The woman, however, did not make it, instead succumbing to rebound with a body that was not prepared to channel essence even one more time that day. The book recounted this with the note that it would be vital to think on this woman's experience and internalize what she must have felt in order to properly become a caster of Heal to its fullest potential; a true desire to save others and a compassion for their struggles was paramount. It ended that tale with the detail that the woman, though her original name long forgotten, was commemorated as Healer Guide Jeiros, one of the Six Guides of the Umbralist faith - comparable to saints, in other religions.
After covering the origins and lore of the spell and how integral it was to the progress of magic on a grander scale, the rest of the section detailed the finer points of casting. The actual motion was the simplest part, being an open hand raised towards the intended target. More importantly was the specific fusion of emotional essences invoking kindness and empathy towards others, inner peace, and above all, the true desire within the caster's mind to mend another's wounds and see their life continue. The simplest cast of Heal was to touch someone with this casting motion and these emotional essences channeled, though it also detailed other, more complex methods such as ranged casting or radial channeling. Such methods were not recommended for beginners, however, noting that emotional essence quickly dies amidst the world's winds after a short period away from its emanator, and so it would require immense focus and practice to see such targeted essence to its intended recipient in full.
It would be up to Chunji how, when and where he would practice these things, of course. Battle raged on from Emelie's screen, and she even laughed a few times before covering her mouth, realizing she was not only in a library, but was indeed the librarian. With the memory of a goldfish, though, it wouldn't be long before this cycle would repeat.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
GIRLS' DORM
"Oh, that bitch? Yeah, her victims recovered right away. Can't say I know what her malfunction was in the first place, but at least it got sorted. Heard she was extra crispy after that, and that's exactly what I wanna hear. Didn't bother to look at her once she fell, was just really glad she was out of the way. Who gave such egotistical brats such power, anyway? If Astra's real, she's lost her gods-forsaken mind."
The dagger perked up immediately upon being tapped on the shoulder by her unwilling roommate, ending her rant short after seeing that the pair was now next in line. "Alright, let's get this sorted and never see each other again, got it?"
"Oh, we'll see each other again. I'll mash you into the pavement once they start asking students to spar with each other!" Sparks flew, the hallway heating up with loose essence, and the two stormed into the advisor's office without breaking eye contact.
Three minutes passed before the two trudged out the door, their eyes painted with defeat. The dagger girl would look at the trio and merely stutter out a pitiful, "Good luck..." She and her new roommate would begrudgingly shuffle off after that, all fight having left them in an instant. A woman's laughter could be heard from the other side of the door alongside banging against a desk. After a few beats, it would decline into chuckles and then muttering sighs, before the voice would announce, "Next!" There was no one else in front of the trio, signaling their turn to enter.
Should they enter, they would find themselves inside a humble office space, complete with bookshelves detailing various arcane studies with a particular bias for abjuration - protection magic and wards. Seated behind an imposing oak desk was an elven woman with her eyes closed and a dark blue hooded cape with golden lining and a velvet red inside. Those vaguely knowledgeable of Vaal Shaktan culture would know this as the cape of an Undermage - the rank directly below Arcmage, the pinnacle of magic accomplishment in Shaktan society. "A plight awaits, I can almost hear it. Do take a seat, darlings, and do not but fear a wit!"
Three wooden chairs would appear in front of the woman's desk, her eyes still remaining closed, with a quill and levitating scroll now at her side as she awaited them to be seated and state their case. A small smile graced her, devious and yet curious as she leaned in over her desk.
"I am Nyxhoilv'phvamineknmos, but you may all call me Nicole, or Head Advisor if you prefer."
Leuvalt's colors would be red and gold, whereas Wund is not any one family name, but rather a name often taken by exiled Rekordian nobility when banished from the country. Blue would be a fitting color for them though, I figure.
Oh, I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular. I’m not much of an art guy.
Oh, I wasn't aware that was a Blue Archive. Sure, go nuts with it!
Heh.
Ayooo, that's sick. Do I have permission to put that in the OOC?
Also, busy day ahead for me, so the next round'll be coming later in the evening!
@ERode
Once more entering town, it quickly became apparent that the tower was indeed a place of popularity. Carriage after carriage rolled their way down the slim northern road passing over a forested region below, giving way to the notion that the dorms were, in reality, quite close to this tower. Otis would even see Principal Raja walking in the opposite direction, towards and even past him and turning a corner down another street with an unconscious Gulliver Bronsteel over her shoulder. Her aura could felt, and it was cold and spiteful, and she would pay no mind to the traveling Strigidae, tunnel vision becoming her defining characteristic as she shuffled along with a piercing gaze directed forward.
Should he continue on his travels as he was, he'd eventually reach the other end of the forest road after a few minutes. To his left, carriages parked to allow disembarking groups to enter a building labeled "Boys' Dormitory". Similarly, to the right was a scene with a building labeled "Girls' Dormitory". Straight ahead, however, was the massive, looming tower that had far less carriages outside of it. Were he to draw closer up the imposing marble steps to reach the entrance to this tower, he would eventually see a sign above the front door that read "Iris Record & Ascendis Dormitory".
Outside were two guards, each wearing black suits with nightsticks. One was a taller orc woman, and the other a bulky dwarven man, each eyeing Otis through their dark-spectacled glasses and acknowledging his presence with a nod.
"Greetings, student. You've stepped in front of the Iris Record - home to the faculty, proving grounds, and the place of respite for approved Ascendis Dormitory attendees," the orc would state plainly, her yellow eyes peeking out from under her sunglasses towards Otis. She would shift her weight to one side, crossing her arms inquisitively as she eyed the boy up and down.
"However, you don't seem like a student registered to this tower's dormitory. I'd recognize you if you were. Would you care to state your reason for being here?"
@AThousandCurses
With an expression of overexaggerated disinterest all at once, Emelie kicked her feet off the table and returned to a more normal seating arrangement, blowing a tuft of hair out of her eyes to look upon Chunji once again. "Pshhh, no fun. Fine, fine! We ain't exactly a medical school here, so books on mundane medicine probably won't go as elaborate as ya want. That bein' said, I've gotcha."
From under the desk, Emelie would withdraw various books on clerical rites, alchemical remedies, and one book on the casting of the most basic healing spell simply called 'Heal' for the relieving of minor and immediate injuries. There were no mind-blowing secrets of the universe within these texts, but Emelie gave a shrug while pushing them towards Chunji's side of the desk. "I was doin' a bit of light reading, myself. Coincidences, eh? As for, uh, a more detailed layout..."
Looking upon the Mannekin moving about, her expression was one of boredom and disappointment.
"Well, we ain't quite organized yet, see. But ideally, by tomorrow it'll look a little somethin' like thiiiis..."
Retrieving a sticky note from her pocket, she rapidly began drawing a barebones layout of different sections on a more basic level. It was crude, but it became apparent that she had memorized the library in its intended state by heart, and handed off this sticky note to Chunji upon its rushed completion.
"You ain't gonna have access to everything right away, of course. They keep the truly advanced stuff, real cream of the crop kinda tomes, locked away in the fancy shmancy tower up the forest road. That place's all kinds'a locked up by magic barriers, defensive armaments 'n whatnot. I'm sure you'll get there one day though. Just gotta do your thing first, y'know?"
A smile - a more genuine one this time.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
As the trio pondered where they'd go to speak of new living arrangements, the most notable nearby sight would be the stream of students storming down the halls and around a left turn. One girl in particular walking by stared daggers at the other beside her, muttering, "I refuse to spend a single night here with you, we're sorting this out now." The other girl scoffed, one hand perched over the pommel of her dagger as she stomped to keep pace down the hall past the trio. "That makes two of us. You won't survive the night if the head advisor says no."
Should they follow, the three would turn the corner at the end of that hallway to see a line of scowling teens impatiently waiting their turn outside of a door labeled 'Head Advisor', some almost ready to start fights. Some would almost blitz out of the advisor's office in a whirlwind of rage, while others exited with relief plastered on their faces. Eventually, the angry girl holding her knife pommel from earlier looked back at the three from her place in line, her temper simmering as she sighed.
"Can't say I've seen much dissatisfaction among trios around here today. Did you accidentally all get assigned the same room? Or, which one of you wants to kill the others? Or do you all just hate each other? It's honestly fair either way, really," she finished with a shrug, letting the grip off her sheathed dagger and allowing it to simply dangle at her hip.
She looked away, dejected. "After experiencing some of the Ethos of the people around here today, stomping over each other just to get where they need to go faster... or even that red-haired weirdo that stopped us all right at the end... I just don't need any more frustration today, I dunno. How about you all?"
The line was progressing smoothly, with approvals and rejections alike seemingly coming faster. There was enough time for some small talk, and then within the next few minutes, it would be their turn to meet their dormitory's head advisor. They were even close enough now to hear some heated conversations from behind the door, with the voice of a rather aloof older woman seeming to laugh sadistically as students made their cases to her.
IRIS RECORD
Once more entering town, it quickly became apparent that the tower was indeed a place of popularity. Carriage after carriage rolled their way down the slim northern road passing over a forested region below, giving way to the notion that the dorms were, in reality, quite close to this tower. Otis would even see Principal Raja walking in the opposite direction, towards and even past him and turning a corner down another street with an unconscious Gulliver Bronsteel over her shoulder. Her aura could felt, and it was cold and spiteful, and she would pay no mind to the traveling Strigidae, tunnel vision becoming her defining characteristic as she shuffled along with a piercing gaze directed forward.
Should he continue on his travels as he was, he'd eventually reach the other end of the forest road after a few minutes. To his left, carriages parked to allow disembarking groups to enter a building labeled "Boys' Dormitory". Similarly, to the right was a scene with a building labeled "Girls' Dormitory". Straight ahead, however, was the massive, looming tower that had far less carriages outside of it. Were he to draw closer up the imposing marble steps to reach the entrance to this tower, he would eventually see a sign above the front door that read "Iris Record & Ascendis Dormitory".
Outside were two guards, each wearing black suits with nightsticks. One was a taller orc woman, and the other a bulky dwarven man, each eyeing Otis through their dark-spectacled glasses and acknowledging his presence with a nod.
"Greetings, student. You've stepped in front of the Iris Record - home to the faculty, proving grounds, and the place of respite for approved Ascendis Dormitory attendees," the orc would state plainly, her yellow eyes peeking out from under her sunglasses towards Otis. She would shift her weight to one side, crossing her arms inquisitively as she eyed the boy up and down.
"However, you don't seem like a student registered to this tower's dormitory. I'd recognize you if you were. Would you care to state your reason for being here?"
@AThousandCurses
LIBRARY
With an expression of overexaggerated disinterest all at once, Emelie kicked her feet off the table and returned to a more normal seating arrangement, blowing a tuft of hair out of her eyes to look upon Chunji once again. "Pshhh, no fun. Fine, fine! We ain't exactly a medical school here, so books on mundane medicine probably won't go as elaborate as ya want. That bein' said, I've gotcha."
From under the desk, Emelie would withdraw various books on clerical rites, alchemical remedies, and one book on the casting of the most basic healing spell simply called 'Heal' for the relieving of minor and immediate injuries. There were no mind-blowing secrets of the universe within these texts, but Emelie gave a shrug while pushing them towards Chunji's side of the desk. "I was doin' a bit of light reading, myself. Coincidences, eh? As for, uh, a more detailed layout..."
Looking upon the Mannekin moving about, her expression was one of boredom and disappointment.
"Well, we ain't quite organized yet, see. But ideally, by tomorrow it'll look a little somethin' like thiiiis..."
Retrieving a sticky note from her pocket, she rapidly began drawing a barebones layout of different sections on a more basic level. It was crude, but it became apparent that she had memorized the library in its intended state by heart, and handed off this sticky note to Chunji upon its rushed completion.
"You ain't gonna have access to everything right away, of course. They keep the truly advanced stuff, real cream of the crop kinda tomes, locked away in the fancy shmancy tower up the forest road. That place's all kinds'a locked up by magic barriers, defensive armaments 'n whatnot. I'm sure you'll get there one day though. Just gotta do your thing first, y'know?"
A smile - a more genuine one this time.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
GIRLS' DORM
As the trio pondered where they'd go to speak of new living arrangements, the most notable nearby sight would be the stream of students storming down the halls and around a left turn. One girl in particular walking by stared daggers at the other beside her, muttering, "I refuse to spend a single night here with you, we're sorting this out now." The other girl scoffed, one hand perched over the pommel of her dagger as she stomped to keep pace down the hall past the trio. "That makes two of us. You won't survive the night if the head advisor says no."
Should they follow, the three would turn the corner at the end of that hallway to see a line of scowling teens impatiently waiting their turn outside of a door labeled 'Head Advisor', some almost ready to start fights. Some would almost blitz out of the advisor's office in a whirlwind of rage, while others exited with relief plastered on their faces. Eventually, the angry girl holding her knife pommel from earlier looked back at the three from her place in line, her temper simmering as she sighed.
"Can't say I've seen much dissatisfaction among trios around here today. Did you accidentally all get assigned the same room? Or, which one of you wants to kill the others? Or do you all just hate each other? It's honestly fair either way, really," she finished with a shrug, letting the grip off her sheathed dagger and allowing it to simply dangle at her hip.
She looked away, dejected. "After experiencing some of the Ethos of the people around here today, stomping over each other just to get where they need to go faster... or even that red-haired weirdo that stopped us all right at the end... I just don't need any more frustration today, I dunno. How about you all?"
The line was progressing smoothly, with approvals and rejections alike seemingly coming faster. There was enough time for some small talk, and then within the next few minutes, it would be their turn to meet their dormitory's head advisor. They were even close enough now to hear some heated conversations from behind the door, with the voice of a rather aloof older woman seeming to laugh sadistically as students made their cases to her.
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