There would be the forests, accessible via a dirt path on the western side of campus. Not many students would occupy that place in comparison to the rest of the place.
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There'd be a cafeteria near the plaza by the bridge, out of the central doors from which the chef Mannekin ran out.
@ERode
The dwarf would gleefully pop the caramel into his mouth, chewing along with mumbles of glee. Much to the orc's chagrin, she would do the same, inhaling the sweet morsel with a shrug, caught off guard by the act with a raised eyebrow towards Otis. "Er, thank you, student. While this will not change my stance on letting you in without permission, the student residents of this tower do not so much greet us as much as they do treat us as a welcoming mat."
A chuckle emerged from the dwarf's generous pot belly, gently punching the orc's shoulder and also turning to Otis as he moves away. "What she really means is that we appreciate the chat, lad, as brief as it was. It's a borin' life out here at the top, an' hired help like us don't often survive long enough to see a sight so grand and peaceful."
He would see the Strigidae off with a smile, standing at attention and yet doing his best to maintain his optimism in a work environment that consisted of standing in front of a door and greeting uncaring talents and eccentrics. Otis broke up the monotony of that, if only temporarily, and it was clear as day that the pair were grateful for that.
Upon arriving at the boys' dormitory, Otis would see the fateful nameplate hanging above his door, upon getting his affairs in order and being given his room key. Closer to the top of the door, it would read clear as day, 'Otis and Davil'. Should he enter, however, Davil would be nowhere to be seen inside at the current moment.
@AThousandCurses
Eventually, the library would fill with students one after another. As time passed and Chunji's studies and understanding of essence-related concepts deepened, more students began to take the haven of knowledge as their place of gathering. Emelie had long since turned off her combat recordings to maintain the image of a respectful and dutiful librarian, twiddling her thumbs and building a house of cards on top of her desk or sticking pencils up her nose and chant-giggling, "I'm a walrus, I'm a walrus," to herself repeatedly. Not a soul that passed by saw her as a trustworthy individual, and all made it their business to enter and leave with the speed of a flash flood. If there was any drawback at all to this, it was the noise. What was lost in Emelie's return to an attempt at dignity was replaced by many chipper and gossip-driven students using the place as a meeting hall, among other things.
A few even sat near Chunji's table, and instead of researching, took to setting up a game of cards instead. They grew louder and louder as time went on, even through the occasional 'shhhh' gestures from Emelie, who quite frankly seemed mostly unbothered, instead offering token resistance for the sake of her job.
@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
The icy Undermage was leaned forward in thought, nodding at Iraleth's comments as she left, pondering something. Once it was only the duo of Hildegunde and Nicole that remained in the room, the latter leaned back in her chair and opened her mouth. As she did so, it was as if all of the cold air and ice in the room flowed back into her, leaving it in its prior state of reasonable temperature. With her face turned towards the ceiling, she openly grit her teeth, her posture sinking as if letting the chair take all of the stress out of her. "Wheeeeeew," she would breathe, the back of her hand trailing along her forehead. "School faculty is a much more strenuous and mentally demanding task than Shaktan politics. At the very least, I can predict when a council member wants someone dead."
An uncharacteristic giggle was let loose from her as she clearly imagined something that only made sense to her in her own context, and eventually reoriented herself to face Hildegunde once more. "I cannot deny that you seem to bring a certain measure of balance between those two. If a three-person room is what you all unanimously desire, and that desire has not been shaken by the declarations made in this room..."
Digging into her desk drawer, a key was withdrawn - the number stickered to its main body matching that of the room that Ciara and Iraleth inhabited. Nicole slid it across to the other side of her desk, and gestured towards Hildegunde. "For you. Under the condition, of course, that you try to rethink what you have just said in the future. In the days ahead, every battle is yours to fight, girl. If we are to embody what Nero Leuvalt and his Wings meant to the people, every battle that we believe we have the power to change becomes our battle."
Once more, the elf would lean back in her chair and ease off of Hildegunde in her posture. "It is not a rational approach, I will admit. It is, however, the approach this world in these crucial years of rebuilding will need if heroes are to once more become commonplace."
Finally, Nicole would gesture towards the door. "As for messages for them? Concerns? They will be your roommates and friends from now on, so if there is anything you could do for me, it would be to speak your mind. To me, to them, or anyone else, truly. Were I to speak my own mind, I would go so far as to suggest that your outward bluntness is a deeper cover for, perhaps, something else that lurks; something that cannot be allowed to surface. But, such explorations are above what someone like me is obligated to cover."
A smile, and then a chuckle. "Off with you, now. Make sure this conflict of theirs does not escalate to murder, and we will see what awaits beyond their duel. And, my own personal request? Do what you can to calm the fires of war building between them, lest they burn each other away when their battle begins tomorrow."
@Estylwen
During Ciara's search for objects to assist her in her future duel, she would come across the familiar visage of Michael, the scraggly janitor raking leaves and sorting scattered trash into their proper bins. He leaned against his rake, wiping his brow despite still wearing his tattered hood firmly in the spring heat. Upon catching a glimpse of her, Michael would wave to her, beginning to move towards her. The whole while, he would drag the pile of leaves with him with his rake, clumsily raising a finger to beg her to wait while he slowly stumbles his way over.
"Hope ya don't mind me sayin' so, but you seem down in the dumps there. Hope things're okay, yeah? And if noooot..."
Bending down, the cloaked janitor withdrew a leaf from the top of the pile: red, with not a single bite or puncture in it, and almost perfectly shaped the way one might draw a stereotypical leaf. He grinned as he raised it towards her, the leaf almost seeming to reflect the golden rays of the sun and reflect them as scarlet streams on the other way out. "They say the gift of a perfect red leaf on the first day of spring brings good luck."
Whether she would accept it or not, Michael would continue raking in leaves while nodding along to anything she might be saying, occasionally interjecting with a, "hm," or an, "ah." He seemed simultaneously interested and dismissive at the same time as he simply existed on the school grounds, curious about how the girl's first day at Wingram was going, but not having much to say in response to anything she might tell him.
IRIS RECORD AND BOYS' DORM
The dwarf would gleefully pop the caramel into his mouth, chewing along with mumbles of glee. Much to the orc's chagrin, she would do the same, inhaling the sweet morsel with a shrug, caught off guard by the act with a raised eyebrow towards Otis. "Er, thank you, student. While this will not change my stance on letting you in without permission, the student residents of this tower do not so much greet us as much as they do treat us as a welcoming mat."
A chuckle emerged from the dwarf's generous pot belly, gently punching the orc's shoulder and also turning to Otis as he moves away. "What she really means is that we appreciate the chat, lad, as brief as it was. It's a borin' life out here at the top, an' hired help like us don't often survive long enough to see a sight so grand and peaceful."
He would see the Strigidae off with a smile, standing at attention and yet doing his best to maintain his optimism in a work environment that consisted of standing in front of a door and greeting uncaring talents and eccentrics. Otis broke up the monotony of that, if only temporarily, and it was clear as day that the pair were grateful for that.
Upon arriving at the boys' dormitory, Otis would see the fateful nameplate hanging above his door, upon getting his affairs in order and being given his room key. Closer to the top of the door, it would read clear as day, 'Otis and Davil'. Should he enter, however, Davil would be nowhere to be seen inside at the current moment.
@AThousandCurses
LIBRARY
Eventually, the library would fill with students one after another. As time passed and Chunji's studies and understanding of essence-related concepts deepened, more students began to take the haven of knowledge as their place of gathering. Emelie had long since turned off her combat recordings to maintain the image of a respectful and dutiful librarian, twiddling her thumbs and building a house of cards on top of her desk or sticking pencils up her nose and chant-giggling, "I'm a walrus, I'm a walrus," to herself repeatedly. Not a soul that passed by saw her as a trustworthy individual, and all made it their business to enter and leave with the speed of a flash flood. If there was any drawback at all to this, it was the noise. What was lost in Emelie's return to an attempt at dignity was replaced by many chipper and gossip-driven students using the place as a meeting hall, among other things.
A few even sat near Chunji's table, and instead of researching, took to setting up a game of cards instead. They grew louder and louder as time went on, even through the occasional 'shhhh' gestures from Emelie, who quite frankly seemed mostly unbothered, instead offering token resistance for the sake of her job.
@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
GIRLS' DORM
The icy Undermage was leaned forward in thought, nodding at Iraleth's comments as she left, pondering something. Once it was only the duo of Hildegunde and Nicole that remained in the room, the latter leaned back in her chair and opened her mouth. As she did so, it was as if all of the cold air and ice in the room flowed back into her, leaving it in its prior state of reasonable temperature. With her face turned towards the ceiling, she openly grit her teeth, her posture sinking as if letting the chair take all of the stress out of her. "Wheeeeeew," she would breathe, the back of her hand trailing along her forehead. "School faculty is a much more strenuous and mentally demanding task than Shaktan politics. At the very least, I can predict when a council member wants someone dead."
An uncharacteristic giggle was let loose from her as she clearly imagined something that only made sense to her in her own context, and eventually reoriented herself to face Hildegunde once more. "I cannot deny that you seem to bring a certain measure of balance between those two. If a three-person room is what you all unanimously desire, and that desire has not been shaken by the declarations made in this room..."
Digging into her desk drawer, a key was withdrawn - the number stickered to its main body matching that of the room that Ciara and Iraleth inhabited. Nicole slid it across to the other side of her desk, and gestured towards Hildegunde. "For you. Under the condition, of course, that you try to rethink what you have just said in the future. In the days ahead, every battle is yours to fight, girl. If we are to embody what Nero Leuvalt and his Wings meant to the people, every battle that we believe we have the power to change becomes our battle."
Once more, the elf would lean back in her chair and ease off of Hildegunde in her posture. "It is not a rational approach, I will admit. It is, however, the approach this world in these crucial years of rebuilding will need if heroes are to once more become commonplace."
Finally, Nicole would gesture towards the door. "As for messages for them? Concerns? They will be your roommates and friends from now on, so if there is anything you could do for me, it would be to speak your mind. To me, to them, or anyone else, truly. Were I to speak my own mind, I would go so far as to suggest that your outward bluntness is a deeper cover for, perhaps, something else that lurks; something that cannot be allowed to surface. But, such explorations are above what someone like me is obligated to cover."
A smile, and then a chuckle. "Off with you, now. Make sure this conflict of theirs does not escalate to murder, and we will see what awaits beyond their duel. And, my own personal request? Do what you can to calm the fires of war building between them, lest they burn each other away when their battle begins tomorrow."
@Estylwen
GIRLS' DORM GROUNDS
During Ciara's search for objects to assist her in her future duel, she would come across the familiar visage of Michael, the scraggly janitor raking leaves and sorting scattered trash into their proper bins. He leaned against his rake, wiping his brow despite still wearing his tattered hood firmly in the spring heat. Upon catching a glimpse of her, Michael would wave to her, beginning to move towards her. The whole while, he would drag the pile of leaves with him with his rake, clumsily raising a finger to beg her to wait while he slowly stumbles his way over.
"Hope ya don't mind me sayin' so, but you seem down in the dumps there. Hope things're okay, yeah? And if noooot..."
Bending down, the cloaked janitor withdrew a leaf from the top of the pile: red, with not a single bite or puncture in it, and almost perfectly shaped the way one might draw a stereotypical leaf. He grinned as he raised it towards her, the leaf almost seeming to reflect the golden rays of the sun and reflect them as scarlet streams on the other way out. "They say the gift of a perfect red leaf on the first day of spring brings good luck."
Whether she would accept it or not, Michael would continue raking in leaves while nodding along to anything she might be saying, occasionally interjecting with a, "hm," or an, "ah." He seemed simultaneously interested and dismissive at the same time as he simply existed on the school grounds, curious about how the girl's first day at Wingram was going, but not having much to say in response to anything she might tell him.
Sorry for the wait, post coming in a few hours!
I'll be busy for most of today anyway, so I wouldn't mind waiting a bit more. If there's no post by later on the 2nd, I'll go through the next round, but I'm fine to wait until then.
So I'm thinking within the next two rounds, we'll transition to the next in-game day. Gives people a bit of space to plan how they're going to summarize the rest of the more mundane activities of their first day at Wingram, and then start the second day after that!
@ERode
The Leuvalt heir's crimson stare remained that of a dignified, if distant, lord. His brow did not so much as twitch as Otis fired off questions, allowing the boy to complete his queries while side-glancing towards him upon reaching equal ground. One beat, two, and three would fill the air in silence as Valen stared, awaiting the conclusion of Otis' curiosities, thumbing the left side of his crimson cape's collar thoughtlessly.
"If you wish to know more of how I fight or how I defend myself, perhaps you would challenge me to a duel some day? It would be most invigorating; of this I am certain. Though I know little of Otis Tan Arillo, I know you are above the common rabble."
A smile, a hint of sparking heat in those eyes, and an adjusting of his cape such that the left half billowed in the wind for that brief pause, before continuing. "I would simply be curious to know how far below me an above average combatant still is - how trivial it would be to fell even one who rose above the commoners. How wide is the gap? How far the immeasurable distance in which one cannot compensate for on study or effort alone, in the presence of a chosen? Perhaps you would enlighten me, some day, Strigidae."
His steps, like a militant march, continued towards the Iris Record tower, glancing back one last time with that self-assured smirk still coating his face as if it were painted on. "You may not enter here, not even as a guest, not yet. Prove that you are worthy of darkening the doorstep of the chosen, and you may find a brighter future ahead of you than you ever imagined. Accomplish great things, and you may enter the realm of the greatest."
The orc and dwarf would move aside as he approached, bowing deeply with their eyes closed, their posture suddenly far more professional than moments prior, remaining as silent as the dead.
"Though rest assured, none within the halls of this tower are as great as I. I do not even speak exclusively of students, as even Principal Raja would be brought to heel before my glory."
With that, Valen would disappear within the double doors beyond. As he passed, a blue flicker overtook his silhouette a moment, and then quickly faded as the doors closed behind him. The moment he was out of sight, and presumably out of earshot, the two guards out front dropped their uptight posture and exhaled in relief.
"Always gots to be on me toes 'round lordlings like them, y'hear? If 'e puts in a word to his daddy, it's just all over for me time here, laddie," the dwarf would exclaim towards Otis, his more relaxed posture seeming to also put the orc further at ease.
"Would not recommend taking him up on his offer, though. He does not seem the type to show mercy, even in a non-lethal and supervised sparring match," the orc would chime in, wiping sweat from her brow that she had done an immaculate job of concealing until that very second.
@AThousandCurses
Upon cracking open a dustier tome on alchemy, Chunji would be greeted to a guide that covered the basics of alchemy for aspiring novices. It would begin with the origin of alchemy, as rituals carried out from both the occult and primal disciplines of magic. In the beginning, when mortalkind was still young, those who could naturally draw essence out from existing natural elements such as wood, plants or stones bestowed these gifts upon mortals. On one hand, fey and other nature spirits would use their knowledge on extraction from the forests and plains to assist the less gifted races in the creation of restoratives and remedies; in return, these spirits would receive trinkets, essence or favors, as an alliance of sorts between all-consuming nature and ever-growing society.
On the other hand, those wishing to use nature's gifts for more sinister means might turn to occult spirits, such as vengeful ghosts or sentient bundles of negative and malicious essence known as malforms. Similar to how nature spirits would assist in the utilization of essence from natural phenomena, occult spirits would assist mortals in the twisting of nature's wrath into potent poisons and explosives.
Eventually, primal and occult spirits alike grew tired of the constant and growing need for the alchemical process, and decided in the early 600's to teach the concepts of extraction and imbuement to the mortal races. Alchemy, ever since, has been a process divorced from fey and malforms entirely. While still ritualistic in nature, chalk lines and words of casting are substituted for cauldrons and precise directions and measurements. The process is a mentally demanding one, requiring an alchemist's full attention as they draw out specific conceptual essence such as "restorative" from one herb to enhance its healing efficiency, "sweet" from another to allow the medicine to be consumed easier, "numbing" from yet another to allow the pain to subside while the brew does its work, and so on. This does not apply to just herbs, either - a potion of endurance is often crafted by combining the essence of many stones and taking in their conceptual essence of "sturdy" and combining it with various other conceptual essences drawn from other objects to allow one to consume and temporarily gain a rock's sturdiness essence without the pain of partially transforming one's essence into a rock.
The tome would go on to list more examples of such things, stating the importance of finding the right balance - stating that the essence of some objects is drowned out and diluted easier than others. Those more beneficial to a mortal would be easier to maintain efficiency such as an herb's "restorative" essence, while a careful balance must be struck for things such as fusing in the "sturdy" essence of minerals that would be more unnatural to the average body. Many have died in the pursuit of alchemical balance, and the book warns the dear reader not to stray from the formulas until one is a professional alchemist, doctor, apothecary or other licensed medical professional.
The next chapter, following that, would begin to detail the recipe for a basic, minor healing potion. It would read that this potion would often be used to treat minor scrapes or bruises, and under no circumstances could be trusted to treat life threatening injuries in any way other than to stabilize the patient temporarily. It would begin listing herbs such as Sunnyday Grass for restorative properties, lavender for a pleasant aroma, a drop of olive oil and a pinch of salt for flavor, and water to fill the brim of a standard issue cauldron. It would encourage the reader to extract unnecessary conceptual essence out of each ingredient, such as removing the "earthen" and "warm" essences from Sunnyday Grass, or the miniature dots of "sediment" essence from the water, to the best of the alchemist's ability to do so.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
"Nobody is dying today. This is not a school of bloodthirsty murderers, and I will not tolerate those that would threaten to make it so on either side of this conversation."
Snap.
The back left leg of Ciara's chair would audibly snap after the biting words of the Undermage, broken in two. Looking upon the broken chair leg, the fragment that fell off and the tip that remained attached to the chair would be coated in a thin layer of frost that slowly encroached upon itself, layering over and over. At the exact same time this happened, Hildegunde would feel an icy chill on her hand. If she were to inspect the source, she would see an icicle growing out of the hardwood floor, tip sharpened to a spearpoint as it gently and harmlessly nudged against her hand - formed in an instant, and halted just as quickly. An exhale drew out of Nicole from under her hood, visible cold mist leaving as if she were outside on a winter night. Her quill ceased to write as it hovered back over to her, the scroll following closely behind. The scroll, with a snap of the elf's fingers, rolled up and settled on her desk as she finally raised her face up to lock eyes with the girls across from her.
Pity. Pity stained her face, and perhaps even a hint of empathy. With it, though, as if a complex paint of many colors, was clearly visible frustration just barely held back by moral and legal obligations as she sat there. Most of these stronger emotions were shot towards Ciara and Iraleth, and she would first point towards the latter, a calm hand urging the knight to restrain herself. "Rebound takes you as we speak, girl. Cease your essence and still your heart, as death does not become one so young and promising. Not here, not in a place in which your studies should be guided with a safe and responsible hand. Please retract your essence, or I will act in your best interest as faculty of Wingram to end your rebound by force. Judging by how fast the cuts arrived, any further pushes and your prime essence will slowly but surely begin to permanently burn away. That is squandered potential that I will not allow."
Nicole would shoot out of her chair, and then shoot her eyes-closed gaze towards Ciara. It was towards the shadow mage that Nicole's colors shifted dramatically towards that underlying anger, pointing at her. "The same applies to you, Miss Ventura. There is nothing in this world that will move me to crush the potential of the future. If a firm spanking is what you require, I will not be the one to deliver it to you - I am not your mother, and if I were, a far harsher hand than you could imagine would be upon you. If you will not divulge the truth, then a duel it shall be."
Her gaze would once more be drawn towards Iraleth. She would reach into her desk, and withdraw from it a healing potion. She would slide it across her desk, gesturing towards it while looking at the bleeding knight. "Take it, drink it, and please get some rest. There will be no duel today, with the entrance ceremony still clearly fresh in the both of your minds and your essences."
Finally, Nicole would point towards Ciara, her resolve firm with an unflinching hand. "Your duel has been accepted for the date of March 2nd, 1526 SR at 6:00 PM inside the proving grounds of the Iris Record, and a champion selected on my behalf. Iraleth Kyrios will fight for Girls' Dormitory Head Advisor Nicole Malthruse, and Ciara Ventura will fight for herself. Upon Iraleth Kyrios' victory, Ciara Ventura will detail the full truth of any connections she may have to Umbralism. Should Ciara Ventura claim victory, the matter will not be pursued further by faculty, with the exception of Principal Raja who may override these conditions for her own personal investigation should she deem Ventura a threat to campus wellness."
Once more, the scroll would unravel and the quill would begin to rapidly write, putting even the fastest typists to shame. It was laid bare, as if an official document or a binding contract, as Nicole looked across the students opposite her.
"Are these terms acceptable?"
IRIS RECORD
The Leuvalt heir's crimson stare remained that of a dignified, if distant, lord. His brow did not so much as twitch as Otis fired off questions, allowing the boy to complete his queries while side-glancing towards him upon reaching equal ground. One beat, two, and three would fill the air in silence as Valen stared, awaiting the conclusion of Otis' curiosities, thumbing the left side of his crimson cape's collar thoughtlessly.
"If you wish to know more of how I fight or how I defend myself, perhaps you would challenge me to a duel some day? It would be most invigorating; of this I am certain. Though I know little of Otis Tan Arillo, I know you are above the common rabble."
A smile, a hint of sparking heat in those eyes, and an adjusting of his cape such that the left half billowed in the wind for that brief pause, before continuing. "I would simply be curious to know how far below me an above average combatant still is - how trivial it would be to fell even one who rose above the commoners. How wide is the gap? How far the immeasurable distance in which one cannot compensate for on study or effort alone, in the presence of a chosen? Perhaps you would enlighten me, some day, Strigidae."
His steps, like a militant march, continued towards the Iris Record tower, glancing back one last time with that self-assured smirk still coating his face as if it were painted on. "You may not enter here, not even as a guest, not yet. Prove that you are worthy of darkening the doorstep of the chosen, and you may find a brighter future ahead of you than you ever imagined. Accomplish great things, and you may enter the realm of the greatest."
The orc and dwarf would move aside as he approached, bowing deeply with their eyes closed, their posture suddenly far more professional than moments prior, remaining as silent as the dead.
"Though rest assured, none within the halls of this tower are as great as I. I do not even speak exclusively of students, as even Principal Raja would be brought to heel before my glory."
With that, Valen would disappear within the double doors beyond. As he passed, a blue flicker overtook his silhouette a moment, and then quickly faded as the doors closed behind him. The moment he was out of sight, and presumably out of earshot, the two guards out front dropped their uptight posture and exhaled in relief.
"Always gots to be on me toes 'round lordlings like them, y'hear? If 'e puts in a word to his daddy, it's just all over for me time here, laddie," the dwarf would exclaim towards Otis, his more relaxed posture seeming to also put the orc further at ease.
"Would not recommend taking him up on his offer, though. He does not seem the type to show mercy, even in a non-lethal and supervised sparring match," the orc would chime in, wiping sweat from her brow that she had done an immaculate job of concealing until that very second.
@AThousandCurses
LIBRARY
Upon cracking open a dustier tome on alchemy, Chunji would be greeted to a guide that covered the basics of alchemy for aspiring novices. It would begin with the origin of alchemy, as rituals carried out from both the occult and primal disciplines of magic. In the beginning, when mortalkind was still young, those who could naturally draw essence out from existing natural elements such as wood, plants or stones bestowed these gifts upon mortals. On one hand, fey and other nature spirits would use their knowledge on extraction from the forests and plains to assist the less gifted races in the creation of restoratives and remedies; in return, these spirits would receive trinkets, essence or favors, as an alliance of sorts between all-consuming nature and ever-growing society.
On the other hand, those wishing to use nature's gifts for more sinister means might turn to occult spirits, such as vengeful ghosts or sentient bundles of negative and malicious essence known as malforms. Similar to how nature spirits would assist in the utilization of essence from natural phenomena, occult spirits would assist mortals in the twisting of nature's wrath into potent poisons and explosives.
Eventually, primal and occult spirits alike grew tired of the constant and growing need for the alchemical process, and decided in the early 600's to teach the concepts of extraction and imbuement to the mortal races. Alchemy, ever since, has been a process divorced from fey and malforms entirely. While still ritualistic in nature, chalk lines and words of casting are substituted for cauldrons and precise directions and measurements. The process is a mentally demanding one, requiring an alchemist's full attention as they draw out specific conceptual essence such as "restorative" from one herb to enhance its healing efficiency, "sweet" from another to allow the medicine to be consumed easier, "numbing" from yet another to allow the pain to subside while the brew does its work, and so on. This does not apply to just herbs, either - a potion of endurance is often crafted by combining the essence of many stones and taking in their conceptual essence of "sturdy" and combining it with various other conceptual essences drawn from other objects to allow one to consume and temporarily gain a rock's sturdiness essence without the pain of partially transforming one's essence into a rock.
The tome would go on to list more examples of such things, stating the importance of finding the right balance - stating that the essence of some objects is drowned out and diluted easier than others. Those more beneficial to a mortal would be easier to maintain efficiency such as an herb's "restorative" essence, while a careful balance must be struck for things such as fusing in the "sturdy" essence of minerals that would be more unnatural to the average body. Many have died in the pursuit of alchemical balance, and the book warns the dear reader not to stray from the formulas until one is a professional alchemist, doctor, apothecary or other licensed medical professional.
The next chapter, following that, would begin to detail the recipe for a basic, minor healing potion. It would read that this potion would often be used to treat minor scrapes or bruises, and under no circumstances could be trusted to treat life threatening injuries in any way other than to stabilize the patient temporarily. It would begin listing herbs such as Sunnyday Grass for restorative properties, lavender for a pleasant aroma, a drop of olive oil and a pinch of salt for flavor, and water to fill the brim of a standard issue cauldron. It would encourage the reader to extract unnecessary conceptual essence out of each ingredient, such as removing the "earthen" and "warm" essences from Sunnyday Grass, or the miniature dots of "sediment" essence from the water, to the best of the alchemist's ability to do so.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
GIRLS' DORM
"Nobody is dying today. This is not a school of bloodthirsty murderers, and I will not tolerate those that would threaten to make it so on either side of this conversation."
Snap.
The back left leg of Ciara's chair would audibly snap after the biting words of the Undermage, broken in two. Looking upon the broken chair leg, the fragment that fell off and the tip that remained attached to the chair would be coated in a thin layer of frost that slowly encroached upon itself, layering over and over. At the exact same time this happened, Hildegunde would feel an icy chill on her hand. If she were to inspect the source, she would see an icicle growing out of the hardwood floor, tip sharpened to a spearpoint as it gently and harmlessly nudged against her hand - formed in an instant, and halted just as quickly. An exhale drew out of Nicole from under her hood, visible cold mist leaving as if she were outside on a winter night. Her quill ceased to write as it hovered back over to her, the scroll following closely behind. The scroll, with a snap of the elf's fingers, rolled up and settled on her desk as she finally raised her face up to lock eyes with the girls across from her.
Pity. Pity stained her face, and perhaps even a hint of empathy. With it, though, as if a complex paint of many colors, was clearly visible frustration just barely held back by moral and legal obligations as she sat there. Most of these stronger emotions were shot towards Ciara and Iraleth, and she would first point towards the latter, a calm hand urging the knight to restrain herself. "Rebound takes you as we speak, girl. Cease your essence and still your heart, as death does not become one so young and promising. Not here, not in a place in which your studies should be guided with a safe and responsible hand. Please retract your essence, or I will act in your best interest as faculty of Wingram to end your rebound by force. Judging by how fast the cuts arrived, any further pushes and your prime essence will slowly but surely begin to permanently burn away. That is squandered potential that I will not allow."
Nicole would shoot out of her chair, and then shoot her eyes-closed gaze towards Ciara. It was towards the shadow mage that Nicole's colors shifted dramatically towards that underlying anger, pointing at her. "The same applies to you, Miss Ventura. There is nothing in this world that will move me to crush the potential of the future. If a firm spanking is what you require, I will not be the one to deliver it to you - I am not your mother, and if I were, a far harsher hand than you could imagine would be upon you. If you will not divulge the truth, then a duel it shall be."
Her gaze would once more be drawn towards Iraleth. She would reach into her desk, and withdraw from it a healing potion. She would slide it across her desk, gesturing towards it while looking at the bleeding knight. "Take it, drink it, and please get some rest. There will be no duel today, with the entrance ceremony still clearly fresh in the both of your minds and your essences."
Finally, Nicole would point towards Ciara, her resolve firm with an unflinching hand. "Your duel has been accepted for the date of March 2nd, 1526 SR at 6:00 PM inside the proving grounds of the Iris Record, and a champion selected on my behalf. Iraleth Kyrios will fight for Girls' Dormitory Head Advisor Nicole Malthruse, and Ciara Ventura will fight for herself. Upon Iraleth Kyrios' victory, Ciara Ventura will detail the full truth of any connections she may have to Umbralism. Should Ciara Ventura claim victory, the matter will not be pursued further by faculty, with the exception of Principal Raja who may override these conditions for her own personal investigation should she deem Ventura a threat to campus wellness."
Once more, the scroll would unravel and the quill would begin to rapidly write, putting even the fastest typists to shame. It was laid bare, as if an official document or a binding contract, as Nicole looked across the students opposite her.
"Are these terms acceptable?"
Weeeeell, of all the things I expected, I can safely say that was not among them.
@AThousandCurses
He wasn’t there when Chunji first arrived, but he would have seen Rio’s name on the door. “Rio H.” it would have read.
He wasn’t there when Chunji first arrived, but he would have seen Rio’s name on the door. “Rio H.” it would have read.
@ERode
A small sweat droplet slowly flowed down the orc woman's forehead, her eyebrows strafing diagonally upwards as if in awe of the questions being rapid-fired her way. With a small, reminding slap on the shoulder from the dwarf at her side, the orc nodded as she absorbed Otis' questions with thought. "Yes, well..."
A sigh, and then the dwarf would deliver an 'ahem', signaling attention towards himself. He ran a hand through his greying beard as he observed the inquisitive student before him, and seemed more sure of himself in the heat of things. "Put simply, lad, it's all favoritism in the end. We've no say in the matter and we ain't kept up much on the details - we just make sure that only the proper folks get in 'n out, y'hear? Proper, registered folks."
In return, a sharp glare from the orc towards the greying guard, feral golden orbs poking out from underneath her sunglasses, unsatisfied with the dwarf's explanation as she turned back towards Otis. "If you were not requested to partake in the Ascendis Trials after your initial discovery by our institution, then it is no concern of yours what goes on for the students within, child. From what we were briefed on, all that matters is that very specific applicants with the correct criteria were chosen for this dormitory. Apart from that, there is not much to know."
A returning glare, this time from the dwarf, equally displeased with the orc's freedom of speech. A sigh escaped him so hard it was as if steam left his maw, before shrugging. "If we're tellin' everything, then lad, all ye need to know is that when the time comes, the proving grounds will be about the only thing relevant to ye in this tower. Raja already went an' talked about the two faction system, right? Well, when matters between students of differing factions can't be settled, the final call is made in a trial by combat between the involved parties. Artificial leylines from all magical disciplines - arcane, divine, occult and primal - connect and flow strongest within the depths of the proving grounds, where students can do battle with each other at their peak."
A stomp would be taken in Otis' direction by the orc woman, still maintaining distance from his personal space and yet taking on a more imposing posture, defensive and ready to act. "If you wish to get approval from someone to get inside, go talk to Principal Raja! Or, failing that, the starsdamned janitor or something! I'm sure Michael has all kinds of stories about his travels picking locks for his next big win. Grrrr..."
She'd be pulled back, as if a caged beast being held back from unspeakable building rage, by the dwarf who now looked more concerned than annoyed. He stared at Otis while doing so, a nervous smile on his face. "Don't listen to that last part, lad, the janitor ain't a guy you should go to for anythin', really. Just, er... get Raja's permission, she's really the only one who can get ye in legally, unless in the event of an emergency."
Suddenly, footsteps would become more audible from behind Otis. Walking up the steps to the tower, from behind, was Valen Leuvalt. His cold gaze would not meet Otis' as he approached, unless he was spoken to.
@AThousandCurses
Emelie's gaze would turn downcast as Chunji spoke his piece, her expression darkening upon the conversation of transactional behavior. She would nod along, as if seeing his point even if her eyes spoke volumes as to her disagreement with it. His words made sense to her, and they did ring as something she could grasp even if she didn't want to. She traced the spine of a nearby tome on the table as she waited for him to finish, sighing once he did.
"Yeah, yeah. I see your point, but trust me, I've seen things that force me to disagree with you. People... people out there, that don't follow that rationale. It's tough to make you understand that, I know, and I'm not gonna try to convince you. Genuinely, though, such thoughtless monsters do exist out there, acting for no reason at all. Maybe just keep your mind open as to the possibilities, okay? Hurting yourself's still not going to do you any favors in the long run, and even though I don't know you enough to shed any tears over, it'd still suck to know that a classmate got seriously hurt because of his own hubris or somethin'. People always think they're 'the guy' until they realize, too late, that they aren't."
Gently nudging the book away to the other side of the table, realizing that she had gotten carried away with her own zoned-out monologue, her attitude perked up once more as she caught herself before she could fully slip into a trancelike speech. All at once, the darkness of her expression faded away, having relived something that she pulled herself away from before diving beyond the surface level.
"But you're right. It's a lot, being so intrusive around a stranger. I apologize. Lemme just be on my way for now then, I'll be where you found me if you require anything else."
Rising out of her chair, she turned on her heel to walk back towards the desk. Before doing so and once more immersing herself in the sounds of battle on the blaring screen still opened, she turned her head back to look at chunji one last time.
"But, uh, at the very least, please stop bleeding yourself dry all over the library, 'kay? I can't stop you from doing it in general, but if you're going to, then at least do it in the privacy of your own room or something."
And with that, she would leave, returning to her desk.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
Nicole's nails tapped rhythmically against her oak desk as she listened to the girls speak, nodding along, her expression stoic and unchanging throughout as they made their cases. Upon silence hanging within the room, letting the tension extend itself for some seconds while the tapping droned on, the Undermage would nod her head now and again as if contemplating many possibilities and having an internal discussion with herself. There was not a single indication of weakness, hesitation, nor a crack of doubt upon her visage as she pondered, the rhythm of nails against wood not once ceasing its consistent drumming.
Then, all at once, it stopped. Her closed stare drew upon each of them, and then a final nod. "It is true that protection is an important quality. And though you do not find yourselves on the same team in a more formal sense, it is true that the Bronsteel battle was something to behold. Not every day, is it, that strangers can so quickly adapt to the styles of one another in such a desperate bid for survival," she would acknowledge, resting her head to her left side supported by her left palm, elbow resting against the desk for support.
"And Ethos training is exactly what the children of this institute have shown up for, so rest assured, dear Hilde: your future is in safe hands if you trust in the process. Perhaps this future where your Ethos is more boon than burden awaits you easier, though, if you were indeed kept in the company of those you feel a connection to."
Finally, the advisor's head would turn to look upon Iraleth. For this, her expression did deepen, her brow furrowing. There was a different air as Iraleth spoke of Umbralism and the Five Year Apocalypse, those terms clearly bearing close meaning to her as much as anyone else whose life was gravely affected by the events of decades prior.
"Unfortunately, while I share your sentiments, Umbralism is not exactly outlawed in Vaal Shakta as it is in most places. While it is true that the Three Shepherds have perished, the Harvesters executed, and the Seedspawn eradicated, Shaktans that wish to dabble in the recreation of old Umbralist rituals and spells will not be held to the law for doing so unless it should be an attempt to once more return the apocalypse to our realm."
Head lowering downwards, the Undermage's hood would obscure her face as a sigh escaped her. "And though the land of the Neroites holds firm in its anti-Umbralist laws, pushes in recent years from Vaal Shakta's Mayor Highguard have technically made low-ranking Umbralist spells and rituals legal as long as they are for the purpose of cultural values. And so, the question does indeed fall towards Miss Ventura."
Still obscured by her hood, Nicole waved her hand with a flick of the wrist as if commanding troops. In response, the scroll and quill would slowly encircle Ciara, an oppressive atmosphere about them that was not present earlier. She would almost feel an essence tugging at her own - not intruding, but in a certain kind of analogy, it was as if a stranger with dubious intentions was knocking on the door to her house at midnight, wondering what was going on inside.
"Miss Ventura, do tell, within your own comforts, what your intentions are. Your friend does raise a valid point - not every day is it that we see somebody so versed in shadow magic specifically, with the negative association it now has with Umbralist practices. I will acknowledge that much of this stems from ignorance in separating shadow casters from Umbralists, and yet I do wonder regardless where you stand on the matter? One of your parents was an Umbralist survivor passing on old family values, perhaps? A common enough story, if so."
The Undermage's words were sharp and accusatory, face still obscured by her hood as she awaited a reply, the room almost feeling colder by the moment as the conversation continued. The mention of Umbralism had shifted the woman's entire demeanor, and the air in the office was now weighted.
IRIS RECORD
A small sweat droplet slowly flowed down the orc woman's forehead, her eyebrows strafing diagonally upwards as if in awe of the questions being rapid-fired her way. With a small, reminding slap on the shoulder from the dwarf at her side, the orc nodded as she absorbed Otis' questions with thought. "Yes, well..."
A sigh, and then the dwarf would deliver an 'ahem', signaling attention towards himself. He ran a hand through his greying beard as he observed the inquisitive student before him, and seemed more sure of himself in the heat of things. "Put simply, lad, it's all favoritism in the end. We've no say in the matter and we ain't kept up much on the details - we just make sure that only the proper folks get in 'n out, y'hear? Proper, registered folks."
In return, a sharp glare from the orc towards the greying guard, feral golden orbs poking out from underneath her sunglasses, unsatisfied with the dwarf's explanation as she turned back towards Otis. "If you were not requested to partake in the Ascendis Trials after your initial discovery by our institution, then it is no concern of yours what goes on for the students within, child. From what we were briefed on, all that matters is that very specific applicants with the correct criteria were chosen for this dormitory. Apart from that, there is not much to know."
A returning glare, this time from the dwarf, equally displeased with the orc's freedom of speech. A sigh escaped him so hard it was as if steam left his maw, before shrugging. "If we're tellin' everything, then lad, all ye need to know is that when the time comes, the proving grounds will be about the only thing relevant to ye in this tower. Raja already went an' talked about the two faction system, right? Well, when matters between students of differing factions can't be settled, the final call is made in a trial by combat between the involved parties. Artificial leylines from all magical disciplines - arcane, divine, occult and primal - connect and flow strongest within the depths of the proving grounds, where students can do battle with each other at their peak."
A stomp would be taken in Otis' direction by the orc woman, still maintaining distance from his personal space and yet taking on a more imposing posture, defensive and ready to act. "If you wish to get approval from someone to get inside, go talk to Principal Raja! Or, failing that, the starsdamned janitor or something! I'm sure Michael has all kinds of stories about his travels picking locks for his next big win. Grrrr..."
She'd be pulled back, as if a caged beast being held back from unspeakable building rage, by the dwarf who now looked more concerned than annoyed. He stared at Otis while doing so, a nervous smile on his face. "Don't listen to that last part, lad, the janitor ain't a guy you should go to for anythin', really. Just, er... get Raja's permission, she's really the only one who can get ye in legally, unless in the event of an emergency."
Suddenly, footsteps would become more audible from behind Otis. Walking up the steps to the tower, from behind, was Valen Leuvalt. His cold gaze would not meet Otis' as he approached, unless he was spoken to.
@AThousandCurses
LIBRARY
Emelie's gaze would turn downcast as Chunji spoke his piece, her expression darkening upon the conversation of transactional behavior. She would nod along, as if seeing his point even if her eyes spoke volumes as to her disagreement with it. His words made sense to her, and they did ring as something she could grasp even if she didn't want to. She traced the spine of a nearby tome on the table as she waited for him to finish, sighing once he did.
"Yeah, yeah. I see your point, but trust me, I've seen things that force me to disagree with you. People... people out there, that don't follow that rationale. It's tough to make you understand that, I know, and I'm not gonna try to convince you. Genuinely, though, such thoughtless monsters do exist out there, acting for no reason at all. Maybe just keep your mind open as to the possibilities, okay? Hurting yourself's still not going to do you any favors in the long run, and even though I don't know you enough to shed any tears over, it'd still suck to know that a classmate got seriously hurt because of his own hubris or somethin'. People always think they're 'the guy' until they realize, too late, that they aren't."
Gently nudging the book away to the other side of the table, realizing that she had gotten carried away with her own zoned-out monologue, her attitude perked up once more as she caught herself before she could fully slip into a trancelike speech. All at once, the darkness of her expression faded away, having relived something that she pulled herself away from before diving beyond the surface level.
"But you're right. It's a lot, being so intrusive around a stranger. I apologize. Lemme just be on my way for now then, I'll be where you found me if you require anything else."
Rising out of her chair, she turned on her heel to walk back towards the desk. Before doing so and once more immersing herself in the sounds of battle on the blaring screen still opened, she turned her head back to look at chunji one last time.
"But, uh, at the very least, please stop bleeding yourself dry all over the library, 'kay? I can't stop you from doing it in general, but if you're going to, then at least do it in the privacy of your own room or something."
And with that, she would leave, returning to her desk.
@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark
GIRLS' DORM
Nicole's nails tapped rhythmically against her oak desk as she listened to the girls speak, nodding along, her expression stoic and unchanging throughout as they made their cases. Upon silence hanging within the room, letting the tension extend itself for some seconds while the tapping droned on, the Undermage would nod her head now and again as if contemplating many possibilities and having an internal discussion with herself. There was not a single indication of weakness, hesitation, nor a crack of doubt upon her visage as she pondered, the rhythm of nails against wood not once ceasing its consistent drumming.
Then, all at once, it stopped. Her closed stare drew upon each of them, and then a final nod. "It is true that protection is an important quality. And though you do not find yourselves on the same team in a more formal sense, it is true that the Bronsteel battle was something to behold. Not every day, is it, that strangers can so quickly adapt to the styles of one another in such a desperate bid for survival," she would acknowledge, resting her head to her left side supported by her left palm, elbow resting against the desk for support.
"And Ethos training is exactly what the children of this institute have shown up for, so rest assured, dear Hilde: your future is in safe hands if you trust in the process. Perhaps this future where your Ethos is more boon than burden awaits you easier, though, if you were indeed kept in the company of those you feel a connection to."
Finally, the advisor's head would turn to look upon Iraleth. For this, her expression did deepen, her brow furrowing. There was a different air as Iraleth spoke of Umbralism and the Five Year Apocalypse, those terms clearly bearing close meaning to her as much as anyone else whose life was gravely affected by the events of decades prior.
"Unfortunately, while I share your sentiments, Umbralism is not exactly outlawed in Vaal Shakta as it is in most places. While it is true that the Three Shepherds have perished, the Harvesters executed, and the Seedspawn eradicated, Shaktans that wish to dabble in the recreation of old Umbralist rituals and spells will not be held to the law for doing so unless it should be an attempt to once more return the apocalypse to our realm."
Head lowering downwards, the Undermage's hood would obscure her face as a sigh escaped her. "And though the land of the Neroites holds firm in its anti-Umbralist laws, pushes in recent years from Vaal Shakta's Mayor Highguard have technically made low-ranking Umbralist spells and rituals legal as long as they are for the purpose of cultural values. And so, the question does indeed fall towards Miss Ventura."
Still obscured by her hood, Nicole waved her hand with a flick of the wrist as if commanding troops. In response, the scroll and quill would slowly encircle Ciara, an oppressive atmosphere about them that was not present earlier. She would almost feel an essence tugging at her own - not intruding, but in a certain kind of analogy, it was as if a stranger with dubious intentions was knocking on the door to her house at midnight, wondering what was going on inside.
"Miss Ventura, do tell, within your own comforts, what your intentions are. Your friend does raise a valid point - not every day is it that we see somebody so versed in shadow magic specifically, with the negative association it now has with Umbralist practices. I will acknowledge that much of this stems from ignorance in separating shadow casters from Umbralists, and yet I do wonder regardless where you stand on the matter? One of your parents was an Umbralist survivor passing on old family values, perhaps? A common enough story, if so."
The Undermage's words were sharp and accusatory, face still obscured by her hood as she awaited a reply, the room almost feeling colder by the moment as the conversation continued. The mention of Umbralism had shifted the woman's entire demeanor, and the air in the office was now weighted.
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