As fate would have it, Valen is also proficient in yapanese.
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@Sifr@Psyker Landshark@ERode@AThousandCurses
The remaining compacts would ramble on to varying lengths, some promising better futures or making grand promises of greatness, while others settle for few words. Some notable standouts would be an orc girl from Compact 4, who simply stated, "I'll win," before attuning and leaving, or a twiggy-looking gnome from Compact 6 with hair that resembled a vanilla ice cream swirl, who read a full page from his favorite adventure novel before Raja hastily moved him along even as he swore he, "Hadn't gotten to the big reveal yet, the main character's arc climax all ties into my motivation for the school year!"
Different priority was given to Compact 8, 9 and 10. Notably, the students from each wore a silver pin on their chest. There was a shift in the air as they all approached in a marching formation as one, with Valen taking to the front of them. Raja raised an eyebrow as this transpired, crossing her arms as she awaited an explanation. The Leuvalt heir would step forward and take to the podium, locking eyes with the principal with a nod before turning to the crowds of Wund and Nero each. "Explain this, Leuvalt," Raja would spit, waiting for the boy to begin speaking. After another moment to take in his surroundings, he would.
"It is not through arrogance or ignorance that I stand here to speak, but through power. At the age of nineteen, I already stand at the apex, ready to seek contest with the strength of Dandelily's finest, Strigari's finest, and beyond that, even breaching the realms of the four Mirrisian Stalwara. Were it based solely on merit, I would rival the capital's arcmages, and an arcmage's cloak would grace my back. I, as the reignited hope of Leuvalt, am indeed he who triumphs, and none can argue such claims," Valen would declare, back straight and chest proudly puffed, looking across the students of both sides - taking an extra second in particular towards Otis and Iraleth, were they to catch his eye. He would sigh, his shoulders sinking a moment as if contemplating something, before continuing.
"And yet, merit alone is not what brings us success. We live in a world of titles, struggling through its muck - many of us swallowed whole by the maw of unequal birth. Those in power across the many societies of this planet are not always there through merit, but often through title, through wealth, through happenstance, through nepotism, through misfortune of the capable, and more. I count myself among those who received a voice through titles and wealth, initially. Yet, such things gave me the chance to demonstrate merit, ability, and ambition. Is it fair?"
He would give a moment of pause for the crowd to take in his words, Raja at his side tapping her foot as if waiting for him to wrap things up. Such a gesture would then encourage Valen to proceed after another moment, shaking his head.
"...It is not fair. Wund? Nero? Those, too, are equally determined through title. Shaktis Wund as the pioneer of spellcasting, and Nero as the great martyr who burned for his beliefs. To stand behind them and their truths is admirable, but outdated. There is no merit in continuing the path of a predecessor's success - no new ground to be tread by reopening the old wounds of the world. And so what do I propose? A new beginning. It is here that I announce that Compacts 8, 9 and 10 will not be partaking in this pitiable faction war. As the classes that make up the Iris Record, we will carve our own path."
Discussion would perk up amidst the crowds, with reactions ranging from disbelief or mockery at the ridiculous long-windedness, to anger and confusion at what seems to be special privileges, to some of the more competitive folk seeing it as a challenge. Raja herself stood there, her face contorting in frustration, putting her foot down. The imp cackled lowly, but was ignored as the principal leaned in towards Valen. "What? This wasn't in any documentation I was told of, Leuvalt. I'd expect-"
Just then, Raja opened her Adapa and began reading a new notification that had arrived, her eyes going wide. "I see..."
Valen nodded, and looked towards the remaining Compacts wearing silver pins, as he withdrew one from his own pocket and placed it on his chest. "With permission from the board of directors, I, Valen Leuvalt, will act as representative of Wingram's third faction: the Helm of Kastrus. With a legacy of pain and hate, Kastrus Aishblut had regardless done more for the people of this country than either Wund or Leuvalt. He is why we enjoy luxuries that Mirris and Rekordia struggle to maintain, and it is through the will of the forgotten prince that we who claim the Iris Record shall find the future."
At that, the remaining 23 students making up the Iris Record would march and encircle the attuning pillar. Valen himself would turn away from the crowd towards the pillar, and all at once as if rehearsed, each of the 24 Iris Record students would touch their palms to the pillar. An immaculate burst of energy would ring out as they attuned, and as Valen closed his eyes, a smile would briefly grace his lips - so sudden as if it were almost a trick of the light. Upon the completion of attunement, Valen would bow to both crowds of Wund and Nero, and then make his way off the podium after one final statement. "That will be all. This is a declaration of intent: the future will be ours to helm." He would state this plainly as he walked off north of the pillar with the rest of the Iris Record students, presumably back towards the tower.
Raja would stand there, gritting her teeth as she read an email in utter disbelief, seemingly unable to dispute the declaration in the slightest with whatever information she was presented. Regardless, she would look towards the remaining students and shrug. "Well... that will be all for the ceremony. The full details of your faction choice and what it entails will be delivered via essence mail by evening, but for now, all further classes for the day will be canceled. The effects of attunement are sometimes wonky on your prime essence, so we'd like to give you lot the rest of the day to adjust to and report any complications."
The crimson-haired principal would storm off, stomping towards the Iris Record, yanking the shade imp along with her.
@Estylwen
As Ciara entered, the library would be notably empty - predictable, due to the ceremony. Sitting at the checkout desk, legs propped up on the desk itself as he leaned back in the office chair, would be the familiar cloaked, hooded visage of Michael. His eyes would initially be closed as if napping, hands propping his head up in sheer comfort, but would awaken and dart towards Ciara as she entered. The same easygoing smirk he always wore would be present as he nodded in her direction, scratching at the scraggly stray chin hairs on his face as he withdrew a book from his pocket.
"You ever read, 'Scented Pawns', by Henora Milby? Absolute classic of Rekordian literature, never knew it had respectful depictions of werewolves in it. Crazy shit, that. Shame those dudes ain't around anymore, I'm sure hollerin' with the wolfpack would a real riot. Umbralism, eh? Whaddya do."
With a small chuckle escaping him as he haphazardly tossed the book onto the desk, he rolled his shoulders and looked back towards Ciara. "Buuuut, spoilers: all the main characters die in the end. In the book, I mean. Henora had a real mean streak, she loved killing off her darlings. The werewolves in particular got it really bad, but I guess that's what a period piece'll get ya."
Michael would lean up in his chair and kick his boots off the desk, finally sitting like a normal person. "Sudden arrival though, kid. I'm guessing you weren't here to talk literature, and I ain't here any longer than I'm required to be, because good lord am I losing it sitting here. Just browsin' and want me to shut up and leave ya be, or is there somethin' you're itchin' for?"
Apart from Michael, Gulliver Bronsteel would be visible at the other end of the library, though he didn't seem to be paying attention to the conversation; he was instead nose deep in a book in the corner.
CAMPUS GROUNDS, LEYLINE ATTUNEMENT ZONE
The remaining compacts would ramble on to varying lengths, some promising better futures or making grand promises of greatness, while others settle for few words. Some notable standouts would be an orc girl from Compact 4, who simply stated, "I'll win," before attuning and leaving, or a twiggy-looking gnome from Compact 6 with hair that resembled a vanilla ice cream swirl, who read a full page from his favorite adventure novel before Raja hastily moved him along even as he swore he, "Hadn't gotten to the big reveal yet, the main character's arc climax all ties into my motivation for the school year!"
Different priority was given to Compact 8, 9 and 10. Notably, the students from each wore a silver pin on their chest. There was a shift in the air as they all approached in a marching formation as one, with Valen taking to the front of them. Raja raised an eyebrow as this transpired, crossing her arms as she awaited an explanation. The Leuvalt heir would step forward and take to the podium, locking eyes with the principal with a nod before turning to the crowds of Wund and Nero each. "Explain this, Leuvalt," Raja would spit, waiting for the boy to begin speaking. After another moment to take in his surroundings, he would.
"It is not through arrogance or ignorance that I stand here to speak, but through power. At the age of nineteen, I already stand at the apex, ready to seek contest with the strength of Dandelily's finest, Strigari's finest, and beyond that, even breaching the realms of the four Mirrisian Stalwara. Were it based solely on merit, I would rival the capital's arcmages, and an arcmage's cloak would grace my back. I, as the reignited hope of Leuvalt, am indeed he who triumphs, and none can argue such claims," Valen would declare, back straight and chest proudly puffed, looking across the students of both sides - taking an extra second in particular towards Otis and Iraleth, were they to catch his eye. He would sigh, his shoulders sinking a moment as if contemplating something, before continuing.
"And yet, merit alone is not what brings us success. We live in a world of titles, struggling through its muck - many of us swallowed whole by the maw of unequal birth. Those in power across the many societies of this planet are not always there through merit, but often through title, through wealth, through happenstance, through nepotism, through misfortune of the capable, and more. I count myself among those who received a voice through titles and wealth, initially. Yet, such things gave me the chance to demonstrate merit, ability, and ambition. Is it fair?"
He would give a moment of pause for the crowd to take in his words, Raja at his side tapping her foot as if waiting for him to wrap things up. Such a gesture would then encourage Valen to proceed after another moment, shaking his head.
"...It is not fair. Wund? Nero? Those, too, are equally determined through title. Shaktis Wund as the pioneer of spellcasting, and Nero as the great martyr who burned for his beliefs. To stand behind them and their truths is admirable, but outdated. There is no merit in continuing the path of a predecessor's success - no new ground to be tread by reopening the old wounds of the world. And so what do I propose? A new beginning. It is here that I announce that Compacts 8, 9 and 10 will not be partaking in this pitiable faction war. As the classes that make up the Iris Record, we will carve our own path."
Discussion would perk up amidst the crowds, with reactions ranging from disbelief or mockery at the ridiculous long-windedness, to anger and confusion at what seems to be special privileges, to some of the more competitive folk seeing it as a challenge. Raja herself stood there, her face contorting in frustration, putting her foot down. The imp cackled lowly, but was ignored as the principal leaned in towards Valen. "What? This wasn't in any documentation I was told of, Leuvalt. I'd expect-"
Just then, Raja opened her Adapa and began reading a new notification that had arrived, her eyes going wide. "I see..."
Valen nodded, and looked towards the remaining Compacts wearing silver pins, as he withdrew one from his own pocket and placed it on his chest. "With permission from the board of directors, I, Valen Leuvalt, will act as representative of Wingram's third faction: the Helm of Kastrus. With a legacy of pain and hate, Kastrus Aishblut had regardless done more for the people of this country than either Wund or Leuvalt. He is why we enjoy luxuries that Mirris and Rekordia struggle to maintain, and it is through the will of the forgotten prince that we who claim the Iris Record shall find the future."
At that, the remaining 23 students making up the Iris Record would march and encircle the attuning pillar. Valen himself would turn away from the crowd towards the pillar, and all at once as if rehearsed, each of the 24 Iris Record students would touch their palms to the pillar. An immaculate burst of energy would ring out as they attuned, and as Valen closed his eyes, a smile would briefly grace his lips - so sudden as if it were almost a trick of the light. Upon the completion of attunement, Valen would bow to both crowds of Wund and Nero, and then make his way off the podium after one final statement. "That will be all. This is a declaration of intent: the future will be ours to helm." He would state this plainly as he walked off north of the pillar with the rest of the Iris Record students, presumably back towards the tower.
Raja would stand there, gritting her teeth as she read an email in utter disbelief, seemingly unable to dispute the declaration in the slightest with whatever information she was presented. Regardless, she would look towards the remaining students and shrug. "Well... that will be all for the ceremony. The full details of your faction choice and what it entails will be delivered via essence mail by evening, but for now, all further classes for the day will be canceled. The effects of attunement are sometimes wonky on your prime essence, so we'd like to give you lot the rest of the day to adjust to and report any complications."
The crimson-haired principal would storm off, stomping towards the Iris Record, yanking the shade imp along with her.
@Estylwen
WINGRAM LIBRARY
As Ciara entered, the library would be notably empty - predictable, due to the ceremony. Sitting at the checkout desk, legs propped up on the desk itself as he leaned back in the office chair, would be the familiar cloaked, hooded visage of Michael. His eyes would initially be closed as if napping, hands propping his head up in sheer comfort, but would awaken and dart towards Ciara as she entered. The same easygoing smirk he always wore would be present as he nodded in her direction, scratching at the scraggly stray chin hairs on his face as he withdrew a book from his pocket.
"You ever read, 'Scented Pawns', by Henora Milby? Absolute classic of Rekordian literature, never knew it had respectful depictions of werewolves in it. Crazy shit, that. Shame those dudes ain't around anymore, I'm sure hollerin' with the wolfpack would a real riot. Umbralism, eh? Whaddya do."
With a small chuckle escaping him as he haphazardly tossed the book onto the desk, he rolled his shoulders and looked back towards Ciara. "Buuuut, spoilers: all the main characters die in the end. In the book, I mean. Henora had a real mean streak, she loved killing off her darlings. The werewolves in particular got it really bad, but I guess that's what a period piece'll get ya."
Michael would lean up in his chair and kick his boots off the desk, finally sitting like a normal person. "Sudden arrival though, kid. I'm guessing you weren't here to talk literature, and I ain't here any longer than I'm required to be, because good lord am I losing it sitting here. Just browsin' and want me to shut up and leave ya be, or is there somethin' you're itchin' for?"
Apart from Michael, Gulliver Bronsteel would be visible at the other end of the library, though he didn't seem to be paying attention to the conversation; he was instead nose deep in a book in the corner.
Hmmmm. Well, I'll be busy for all of tomorrow anyway, but after that, I do plan to get a post out some time Wednesday. @Sifr, any ETA?
@AThousandCurses
Compact classes have exactly eight students per class, it seems. And there appear to be ten compact classes all in all, based on the remaining groups lining up. Standard classes seem to have high twenties to low thirties for population density per, but compacts adhere to a strict and exact number of eight.
Compact classes have exactly eight students per class, it seems. And there appear to be ten compact classes all in all, based on the remaining groups lining up. Standard classes seem to have high twenties to low thirties for population density per, but compacts adhere to a strict and exact number of eight.
@Sifr@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark@ERode@AThousandCurses
Raja cocked an eyebrow upon catching sight of the imp, taking hold of the rope and remaining silent as the students explained. The loathsome creature scowled and almost seemed to hiss as Raja's fingers wrapped around the makeshift leash, and its bravado had dropped entirely in her presence. It now stood there with its head hung low as the principal stared down at it, pulling tighter to ensure that the rope would hold. She would turn from Iraleth, to Ciara, to Hildegunde, and sigh. "Serviceable. I will attend to this shade properly after the ceremony and interrogate it on its origins. Thank you, students of Compact 3, and I do apologize that this was allowed to happen on school grounds. In the future, campus security will be tightened."
Bowing her head in apology, she turned to listen to Otis' speech, allowing him to finish before replying. "To answer your first question, those who missed attunement today will be pulled from morning classes tomorrow for a mandatory make-up. Small in scale, no opportunity to say their piece in front of everyone. They will simply attune, declare their choice of sword or shield, and return. Should they fail to make an appearance tomorrow as well, without justifiable cause? They will be packing their bags and returning home."
Some in the crowd nodded in agreement at this, while others appeared nervous for absent friends or classmates. Such things were not specified beforehand, but many appeared grateful that someone rose to seek clarification. Raja's index finger tapped against her cheek, upon the boldness of Otis' other question. She deliberated, and after another moment, turned once more towards the owl in acknowledgement.
"As for the Iris Record? That tower seeks the exceptional beyond the exceptional. All who possess an Ethos have the potential to guide the future, but those who study and train within the Iris Record were chosen by the board with their own criteria that has not been revealed even to me. As of now, the task of finding more of its inhabitants falls to myself for the rest of the school year."
The crowd would begin whispering uncertainties towards one another, some speaking of rigged selections or biases, or paid entry from the pockets of rich parents. Raja would raise a hand to silence them as she continued.
"I seek the worthy. I seek devotion to the Union, to the future, and to oneself. One may prove themselves through body, mind or soul. Fell a great and terrible blight upon the world, unearth and prove a hidden truth of the world either unknown or previously thought fictitious, or come to understand the world and hear its voice. Such things will I task to the starry-eyed dreamer who wishes to enter the Iris Record and study among its residents as a peer."
Valen now stared towards Otis as he moved closer to the front, his fiery glare sharpening as if insulted that the boy would even think to rise above his station. He said nothing, but watched closely, looking back and forth between Otis, Raja, and the shadowy thing she now held in her captivity.
"Now, will that be all, Compact 3? We have a ceremony to conclude in short order, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about a mid-morning snack or two," she inquired, her expression softening as she chuckled to herself. At the same time, she also side-eyed Valen, a small trace of venom in her gaze to anybody close enough to behold her expression.
Compact 4 seemed ready to ascend to the pillar, patiently waiting to see if Otis was ready to conclude his business atop the stage. One particular orc girl in armor seemed to impatiently stomp her foot as she stared daggers at the Strigidae. "Windbag," she'd mutter.
CAMPUS GROUNDS, LEYLINE ATTUNEMENT ZONE
Raja cocked an eyebrow upon catching sight of the imp, taking hold of the rope and remaining silent as the students explained. The loathsome creature scowled and almost seemed to hiss as Raja's fingers wrapped around the makeshift leash, and its bravado had dropped entirely in her presence. It now stood there with its head hung low as the principal stared down at it, pulling tighter to ensure that the rope would hold. She would turn from Iraleth, to Ciara, to Hildegunde, and sigh. "Serviceable. I will attend to this shade properly after the ceremony and interrogate it on its origins. Thank you, students of Compact 3, and I do apologize that this was allowed to happen on school grounds. In the future, campus security will be tightened."
Bowing her head in apology, she turned to listen to Otis' speech, allowing him to finish before replying. "To answer your first question, those who missed attunement today will be pulled from morning classes tomorrow for a mandatory make-up. Small in scale, no opportunity to say their piece in front of everyone. They will simply attune, declare their choice of sword or shield, and return. Should they fail to make an appearance tomorrow as well, without justifiable cause? They will be packing their bags and returning home."
Some in the crowd nodded in agreement at this, while others appeared nervous for absent friends or classmates. Such things were not specified beforehand, but many appeared grateful that someone rose to seek clarification. Raja's index finger tapped against her cheek, upon the boldness of Otis' other question. She deliberated, and after another moment, turned once more towards the owl in acknowledgement.
"As for the Iris Record? That tower seeks the exceptional beyond the exceptional. All who possess an Ethos have the potential to guide the future, but those who study and train within the Iris Record were chosen by the board with their own criteria that has not been revealed even to me. As of now, the task of finding more of its inhabitants falls to myself for the rest of the school year."
The crowd would begin whispering uncertainties towards one another, some speaking of rigged selections or biases, or paid entry from the pockets of rich parents. Raja would raise a hand to silence them as she continued.
"I seek the worthy. I seek devotion to the Union, to the future, and to oneself. One may prove themselves through body, mind or soul. Fell a great and terrible blight upon the world, unearth and prove a hidden truth of the world either unknown or previously thought fictitious, or come to understand the world and hear its voice. Such things will I task to the starry-eyed dreamer who wishes to enter the Iris Record and study among its residents as a peer."
Valen now stared towards Otis as he moved closer to the front, his fiery glare sharpening as if insulted that the boy would even think to rise above his station. He said nothing, but watched closely, looking back and forth between Otis, Raja, and the shadowy thing she now held in her captivity.
"Now, will that be all, Compact 3? We have a ceremony to conclude in short order, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about a mid-morning snack or two," she inquired, her expression softening as she chuckled to herself. At the same time, she also side-eyed Valen, a small trace of venom in her gaze to anybody close enough to behold her expression.
Compact 4 seemed ready to ascend to the pillar, patiently waiting to see if Otis was ready to conclude his business atop the stage. One particular orc girl in armor seemed to impatiently stomp her foot as she stared daggers at the Strigidae. "Windbag," she'd mutter.
I think it's something like that, yeah. This in particular only started over the last few days, when the temperature started going up in my area.
Sorry, eyes have been burning like acid all day for some reason and it hasn't been the best time, and makes it real difficult to write with. Post up tomorrow.
Next round in the morning!
@AThousandCurses
It would be able to, but only in the sense that it'd be like looking at a tornado of converging essences. There wouldn't be much to glean from the process in terms of what it does to the individual on a personal level, other than that some of the leylines would be absent from people during their attunement; presumably rejection due to conflicting casting disciplines. Chunji's Ethos would see this whole process take place, but I'd imagine the struggle would instead be the mental process of comprehending all of it and identifying what all of it actually means in that moment.
It would be able to, but only in the sense that it'd be like looking at a tornado of converging essences. There wouldn't be much to glean from the process in terms of what it does to the individual on a personal level, other than that some of the leylines would be absent from people during their attunement; presumably rejection due to conflicting casting disciplines. Chunji's Ethos would see this whole process take place, but I'd imagine the struggle would instead be the mental process of comprehending all of it and identifying what all of it actually means in that moment.
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