Schola Casus - IC!

[Lilithgow]

Today’s story is different from the ones I have told you before. This is the start of a great number of stories - each one famous and important in its own right, but today is the start of these tales.

There was a time, long ago, when the world of Aoidin was a brighter place. The sun sat high in the sky, and watched as civilizations flourished under a watchful eye.

Elves build great cities of glass that shone in the midday sun. The Dwarves carved mighty sentinels to watch over their races’ grand mines and intricate towers. The curiosity of the humans drove them to explore the hidden depths of the world.

The...wait, no I have gone on long enough about the state of grand empires. So I will just say that light brings with it shadows, and the world found itself in constant need of heroes.

But many would-be-champions find themselves ill prepared for a world with such wonderful dangers as this one, and in my experience, the plucky lad from the farming town is no match for a dragon of exquisite lineage.

So the Schola Casus was founded by a collective of retired adventurers and eager guilds. It exists today outside of the confines of normal society and outside of their laws as well. Hidden away in a forest filled with all manner of monstrous beasts, the Schola Casus would please most Kings of the world if it would vanish permanently, instead of just from any agents fool enough to go looking for it.

It continues to create alumni who go on to become the mightiest of heroes and on occasion, some of the worst. If you can find it, they can teach you and this story is about several who did.

It was a crisp morning when the first arrived at the grand school. A castle nestled in the woods, rough, moss covered stone rising up amongst the Cedars and Oaks. Its towers peeking out of the canopy, casting their gaze out over the wide forest. A thick green glow poured out of the masonry, like filling the cracks where masonry should lie, no doubt a trace of the great mages who had come before, and the power they left behind.

The gate was wide open, with a tent in bright red and white striping just outside the castle gates, a table nestled within. A dark-skinned man sat behind it, his feet resting on the oaken table. As smoke lazily escaped from his mouth, he turned his attention to the figure arriving, quickly crushing his tobacco under a heel as he swung his legs under the table.

[Mazeburn]

Like the day, Vinova's hopes are bright as the parapets of Schola Casus dip into view above the treetops. It had been a long, hard walk through the forest but somehow for all the complaints her body have been trying to make are drowned out by sheer eagerness. She's a girl of eighteen, with dark hair and skin the colour of hazelnuts, a likeable face but with too distracted a look to really register as pretty. At the moment she carries far too many bags, and she's sweating into her black leather doublet, the cravat about her neck feeling far too tight. Perhaps that's just nerves. Vinova feels jittery, energetic, happy. This is the place she'd been dreaming of for months, the prospect keeping her going through the long miles from home. And yet now the place is in view, the doubts rise within her like shadows a setting sun. Maybe she's not good enough? Maybe they'll just turn her away at the gates? Maybe... But she can see the gates now, yawning open like a hungry cat, and it's too late to turn back. Taking a deep breath and turning over the little owl carving in her pocket for luck, she steps up to the tent.

"H-hello, sir," Vinova says, eyes flitting nervously over the man's face. "I'm, uh, here to sign up? For Schola Casus?"

[Lilithgow]

As the girl approached, the man behind at the desk quickly swept his feet of the table, and stubbed out a small roll of tobacco as he did so.

He is a good foot taller than her, and judging by his dark skin, he was probably from out east, even further than Vinova was.
"You're in the right place, alright. There aren't many other adventuring schools out in this forest! Name's Keo Nlack and don't call me sir, I'm not teaching you yet."
His voice was deeper than those of the nearby villages, but apart from a thick accent that hinted at his heritage, he spoke the local dialect perfectly.

Lifting a huge book onto the table, bound in a fine leather with gold clasps on each corned Keo opens it to a large silken bookmark, a well worn page covered in names, and produces a large quill.

"Right. Ok then. Welcome to Schola Casus, school for those who want more out of life. Lessons you cannot buy lie within these walls, and dangers beyond imagine as well."
Keo paused, as he tried to remember a piece of paper with a script on it.
"The school will test you like nothing you have encountered so far, but you will gain access to a world of adventure. Sign your name here, and join the halls of champions who walked before you. But know that this is not for all. You will be worked hard, and you will be exposed to the true dangers of this world."

He stared directly at the girl at this point in his script. His eyes, oh his eyes. I never mentioned his eyes. Circles with circles, they were. Blue as the sky and silver like steel, over and over. When he stared, he stared right through you. Was what you would call a 'piercing gaze'. Then he laid the quill down in front of the girl.

"Go ahead, lady. Sign your name, and introduce yourself to me."

[Mazeburn]

As the girl meets Keo's eyes, she almost instantly wants to ask about them. But even at home, and even more since she left she's found that blurting a personal question like that usually gains her nothing but a slap, and right now she's on her best behaviour. That doesn't change her determination to find out, it would just have to come later.

Eager, she snatches up the quill, licks the tip, and signs her name in a measured, curled script, then beams up at the man.

"Keo Nlack, it is a pleasure to meet you, and I am ready to learn. My name is Vinova," she says with a smile. Just Vinova?, she thinks, echoing the question she's been asked twenty times or more since leaving home. Vinova, yes. One name is enough, at least for her.

[Lilithgow]

And just like that, Vinova joined the school. She was quick to sign, but then, many were.

The man offered a steady hand and broad smile.
"Welcome, Miss Vinova. Always nice to meet a new student!"

From a pocket, Keo produces small diamond shaped shield, roughly the size of an apple. It's black and blue, with an eagle rearing, and a sword running the length of the crest.

"This is yours now. It'll let you into the castle, and open other doors as well. Go right on in. It'll be a bit quiet though, you're the first!"

[Mazeburn]

Taking the object, Vinova turns it over once or twice, feeling the weight and shape of it. Schola Casus comes with its own totem, then, and she didn't need to carve one. For a moment she simply stares at it, until a smile fills her face and she beams up at Keo.

"That's it? Just like that? I... I don't know what to say," she replies, voice hushed with excitement. "Thankyou. Thankyou!"

With that, she grips the little shield tightly and walks forward through the castle gate to await the arrival of others.

[Lilithgow]

Well, turned out that she'd be waiting a while. By the time the next member of this story turned up, it was already mid-afternoon, and there was something of a crowd round the little tent.

[darkbuu_1]

Jumping bushes and dodging trees, an over packed bag pulling him down as he dashes back an forth through the forest, the traveller hopes to soon happen upon the school. It can be hard to stay on track when you don't take the time to properly look where you are going, but if you only skim read your map I guess it about equals out.

This young wander is Derek, a slim but fairly toned 18 year old, 5'6ft human. Speeding through the forest, his blue shirt covering down past his waist, and a low V-neck collar revealing his chest with a sky blue trim, tied tightly around the waist with a black belt and some brown ¾ length trousers. Both articles of clothing are now slightly torn and sticking to his now slightly scratched skin, his jet black hair stiffly pulled back is occupied by twigs and leaves, the toll of the hazardous journey showing on his young, clean cut face.

As the School finally looms into view his smile grows larger and he pushes himself harder towards the elusive Schola Casus. After a couple more minutes of running and a few more trips and tumbles down invisible holes, he approaches the tent. Derek slows to a walk as he reaches the fabric awning "Wooo. . .” he pants heavily, stumbling a little as he makes his way into the tent “I'm finally here!” he exclaims, relief and exhaustion in his voice.

[Lilithgow]

It is later in the day and the tent is more full now. A throng of people, humans, elves, dwarves, orcs...well, all sorts. They mostly seem to be milling about, waiting for their turn to sign, though several seem to be having second thoughts.

After a quarter of an hour, Derek's turn comes round. Before him sits a slightly more worn out Keo Nlack. Despite that, he still wears his smile, and his spiralling eyes show not even a hint of tiredness.

"Welcome to Schola Casus. Sign here if you want more from life, but only if you accept that dangers that come from what you may find."

He pushes the wide book towards the young boy, and holds out the fine quill.

"You're free to sign, but I promise you'll face far worse than the forest! Haha."
The laugh was a deep booming one, but there was most certainly an element of warning there, laugh or no.

[darkbuu_1]

The long queue moved slowly forward, giving Derek enough time to catch his breath but not much more. Standing in line gives you a lot of time to think, Derek spent most of this time trying not to think about how sore he was. It didn't work, not that he regrets jumping and falling through the forest.

Derek takes the quill and holds it level with his face to admire for a moment, this was it, this is where it all begins. Sliding his finger down the first page of names and then the second looking for a place to sign his name, he finally finds the next empty space near the end of the second page. Keeping his finger in place and look up into Keo’s strange but intriguing eyes, hearing the warning in his voice but intentionally choosing to take it as a joke "I was going easy on the forest” he grins and scribbles his name, going over the edges of his allocated space. He steps away from the table taking a deep breath in and exhaling with relief, he walks a couple of steps forward and collapses face first onto the grass, where he rolls over, stretches and starts to relax, waiting for what was to happen next, Keo’s words of warning echoing unnervingly in his mind.

[QuixoticDreams]

A young and sruffy, long dark-haired boy with a mahogany and brown vest-coat, three quarter brown trousers, arm length gloves and calf high boots catapults through the undergrowth out into the clearing and sprawls before the towering building. His coat shoulder is on fire, various areas of his clothes are singed and torn, and he has a trickle of blood issuing from the corner of his mouth which currently plays host to an innocent 'I can't believe I'm here in one piece' smile.

He looks back to the forest fearfully and after a few silent seconds slowly turns to look up at the structure with shining awe filled eyes, excited to have reached his goal, wondering what amazing things lie within it's walls. He shakes of his 'fan-girl' moment and stands up, idly patting the little fire on his shoulder out, without even looking at it, as if this was a minorly annoying, but regular occurance.

Felix Flint, the half-elf, composes himself, clears his throat and starts to take large meaningful strides towards the somewhat populated tent. 'This is my chance for a new start' he thinks to himself 'I can finally be a somebody' he muses, not noticing that his shoulder, after a few harmless smoking seconds, has re-lit itself, and is happily burning away like some odd mockery of a pirate parrot pheonix. He enters the tent, leans idly against a pole adorned in drapery, trying to look 'cool'. He trys to grin in what he percieves is a confident and smooth way, he even sees a girl in the corner of the room, and starts inwardly debating whether a guy as 'cool' as he was pretending to be would wink at her, and unwittingly...yup you guessed it... sets the tent on fire.

[Lilithgow]

Keo watches as the new figure makes their way through the tent, slightly singed. He watches as he leans back against the tent. Slowly, he raises a single eyebrow.

"Newblood! You seem to have set my tent on fire. I would appreciate it if you did not."

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix continues to smile somewhat stupidly around the room as all the faces turn to look at him, for what he initially reasons is them admiring his radiating coolness, he heard what was said by the large dark skinned man but was far too busy being delicious to realise it was directed at him.

A slight prickling on his shoulder makes his head swivel casually round. It seems that is was not coolness he is radiating, but rather heat, in the form of a fire. That was is creeping up the pole towards the outstretched canvas roof....

'OH! Heheh...He meant me...' a casual voice of dawning says in Felix's head. 'OH CRAP HE MEANT ME!' his far more familiar, panic stricken and nervous head voice bellows which makes him frantically jump away from the pole, fiercely wrench his coat off and beat it on the floor several times, stamping on it for good measure. The small fire on the pole seems to peter out without the support of the larger shoulder fire to fuel it, but the slowly smoking evidence still remains, especially once he manages to put his coat back on.

Felix smiles nervously and lowers his head, shameful as he makes his way toward the table, the crowds parting before him, some sneering, some laughing outright. 'So much for that...' he thinks woefully as he stares at the dark wood of the table, his head still hanging low before the much larger, darker man.

'I-I'm sorry sir.' he says in a meek voice, still not raising his eyes.

[Lilithgow]

The crowd of worried faces move quickly away from the smouldering lad. The girl in the corner of tent in particlar seems quick to leave, slightly panicking from Felix's 'smouldering gaze'.

"Right... well, come over here and sign up then."
Keo seems almost worrying unfazed by these events, but he does push the book further towards the young half-elf as he offers it.
"Sign if you seek more from life, and more from yourself."

If Felix had been looking up, he might have seen a more encouraging than reprimanding look in those blue and silver eyes.

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix inwardly cowers as the man's booming voice sounds, too ashamed and nervous to look up he meekly takes the quill and in tiny slanted writing signs his name, first in the wrong place due to his nerves, then quickly stratches it out and signs in the right space. He thinks his introduction was a disaster, but luckily for Felix, he knows, from experience, that it could have gone far, far worse.

He nods respectfully as the man comments on what he may seek from joining, too embarassed and afraid to respond, he places the quill back in the ink pot, shaking so badly he almost up ends it, but manages to catch most fo the spill on his hands, which is relitively indistinguishable from the singe.

He retreats from the tent, trying to make himself as small as possible so as not to attract much more attention, and sits outside the tent with his back against the canvas, refecting on what else could possibly go wrong, and tentatively eyeing the sky for random storm clouds as he does so.

[Lilithgow]

A tall figure walks out of the tent and drops two blue and black shields into the lap of the sitting child.

"You'll be needing your crest. There was another just before you who forgot his as well - name of Derek Knight. Why don't you go find him and give him his crest."

Before Felix can reply, Keo turns his attention to the crowd and loudly announces "Those who are yet to sign up, back into the tent, though I promise there will be worse than a little bit of fire if you do!""

Laughing to himself, Keo walks back into the tent.

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix flinches uncontrolably as the two objects fall into his lap, he looks up at the very large man and blinks dazedly 'Yessir, thank you sir, sorry sir. I got a little distracted from...being alight.' he says in a meek voice as he scrambles to his feet and slinks away as the man turns back to the tent, starting to scan the crowd for any sign of the youth with the extreme style pulled back hair he had seen before him in line.

Once he spots him sprawled out on the grass, he walks over and stands beside him. 'Uhm...uh..excuse me?' He says softly. 'The big guy in the tent told me to give you this.' He holds out the crest in slightly shaking hands. Felix isn't great at making friends.

[Notak]

Vilo Kruudushon strides out of the forest, shrugging off gripping vines that attempt to cling onto his bulging shoulders. He looks up and sees the structure before him, it is larger than anything he has ever seen before. During his 21 years spent living in his tribe's settlement deep in the forest, he had never seen anything that reached so high into the sky without being part of the mountains that surrounded his home.

Vilo pauses to admire the building, seeing it as his new home. He takes a couple of steps towards it before turning around and staring into the forest. Having finished reminiscing, he turns again and begins to march towards the tent, each stamp of his foot filled with purpose. ""Think of the tribe" he mutters. "Think of father" and as he does so, reaches for a large boar skin flask and drinks from it with every other step.

He reaches the tent, which is full of bustling bodies and stands with his back straight and his head tilted back as he finishes the flask. Having taken the utmost care to make sure it is empty as to not ruin the flask, he folds it up and puts it in the small woven bag he has over one shoulder. Having carefully placed the flask in his bag, he promptly pulls out another and drinks long from it.

[Lilithgow]

Once again, the crowd shifts in slight worry as the huge orc eclipses the doorway. There is a slight muttering from a group of elves outside of the tent as he passes.

Keo is once again unphased. "You want to sign up too? Join the school and seek adventure? It'll be dangerous if you do."

[Notak]

Vilo marches forward, parting the crowd with his shear size alone.

He nods his head towards the man sitting behind the table and offers him a drink with his flask by placing it on the table.

"I am Vilo Kruudushon" he introduces himself in his deep, gutteral voice and with emphasis on his surname. He picks up the quill and scrawls his name.

[Lilithgow]

"Welcome to the school, Vilo Kruudushon."

Keo stands behind his desk, placing the small crest on the table. He picks up the flask, and takes a solid drink, before placing it down on the table, and holding out a hand.

"Keo Nlack. I'm sure I'll see you around."

[Notak]

Vilo watches Keo drink from the flask and a broad smile appears on his face. He grips the hand tightly and shakes it.

"I look forward to it!" he says staring into the man's wonderful eyes.

He picks up the flask and puts it to his lips before picking up the crest. Vilo holds it across his chest and nods his head again. He promptly turns around and leaves the tent "spilling" some ale onto the elves just outside the tent.

His father told him to do him proud and to make a good impression, accidents like spilling some ale just can't be helped though...

[darkbuu_1]

The warm rays of the sun beat down casually and warm Dereks' skin, that is until a shadow falls across his face and a faint wisper that can easily be mistaken for words reaches his ears. Slowly opening one eye to identify the source, Derek notices a short half-elf standing next to him, looking expectantly down at him and holding out a small black object.

Closing his eyes for a second he prepares to jump up next to the newcomer, but the state of his muscles changes his mind half way through and so he opts for a sitting position instead. Gazing up at the elfish figure, "Hey there." he says. Seeing the elfling's outstretched hand, Derek instictifly moves his hands up to support what ever he is handing over, "Is that for me?" he smiles up to the nervous looking stranger as the small crest drops into his hands, turning it over in his palms to get a good look at it. "Thanks. . . Umm, what is it?" he asks, a little confused.

[Drakkus]

An immaculate figure sails into view through the trees, long blond hair pristine and perfectly white shirt loose and flowing. Kethlan DeTide sighs as he finally sees the green-cracked towers of the Schola Casus hove into view, and settles his bags more comfortably. The walk has been long, and despite his fitness he has been forced to take several breaks in order to avoid sweating like a pig and ruining his composure. The problem with his predicament, he muses, is that it generally doesn't allow for the use of one's family porters. The thought sobers him a little, and suddenly the high gates seem less inviting and more like some sort of iron event horizon; once passed, there will be no going back. And yet, that really was the idea, wasn't it. Those heavy bars could be his conviction for him; could, ironically, be his freedom.

He schools his expression into one of charming relaxation, and resumes his soft tread towards the striped tent. Once there, he manoeuvres liquidly around the bustle inside, and joins the queue for the desk. Once at the head of the line, he just manages to avoid his pleasant smile cracking at all on seeing the swirling eyes of the swarthy man behind the desk, and offers a hand.

"Kethlan DeTide," he says, enunciating clearly. "I've come to sign up to the Schola Casus."

[Lilithgow]

"DeTide? As in, 'DeTide's Riposote', DeTide? This is most unexpected. Well then, welcome to Schola Casus. If you wish to join, sign the book, but accept the dangers that comes with doing so."

Keo once again offers the book and quill.

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix shrugs at the man sitting on the floor, and examines his own crest, before rubbing it affectionately and pocketing it. 'No idea. Guess we'll find out later.' He says meekly, sitting down near the human. They hadn't exactly been 'introduced' but the friendly manner of the man makes Felix feel welcome, which causes him to sit without questioning the decision as he usually would, he sits awaiting what the rest of the day, and the Schola Casus may bring.

[Drakkus]

Kethlan's smile broadens at the recognition, but turns a little stiff at the corners. Yes, that is going to be a blessing and a curse, and most certainly a constant reminder. He surreptitiously glances around, wondering if anyone else heard the man's response to his name; particularly anyone of the female persuasion.

"The very same," he replies smoothly, and takes the quill. "Thank you, I shall." He inks his name in a flowing hand, the style of the surname forming a shape familiar to all those who have ever seen anything signed by the DeTides, but the forename unique.

[Lilithgow]

"Well then, Kethlan DeTide. Welcome to Schola Casus. I look forward to seeing your family's art for myself."

Keo offers the diamond crest to the elf, with the few remaining to sign up looking on with a look of surprise at the praise given to this newcomer.

"You will find that the doors will open for you now. As for those who are still to sign up, or deciding if you will, now is the time to make your choice."

[Lilithgow]

By the time that these five had signed up, it was late afternoon, the sun glazing the castle in a balmy orange. The gates of the castle opened, and the new students found themselves inside its mysterious walls. The courtyard is full of stalls and tables, set out around wide unlit fire pits.

There was a large sign up directing students to large dormitories, with an ever present crowd of fresh-faced adventurers-to-be sitting around it, trying to make new friends.

There was also a sign up stating that the 'opening ceremony was going to take place later that night at around 7. This left more than enough time for Felix, Vinova, Kethlan, Derek and Vilo to find their rooms. Well upholstered rooms hidden away in a seemingly endless corridor of identical doors.

Finding your particular room at the Schola Casus was a simple enough task - if a little unusual. You walked along the corridor, and then suddenly with very little warning, a door popped open as your crest drew close. Bags were dropped off, and then when seven drew round, they all made their way to the courtyard.

The fires roared, eager to keep the cold of the night away, supported by a band of bards, playing a merry jig that couldn't help but raise your spirits. The stalls over flowed with wide ranges of foods, bold colours and smells enticing and entrancing, and a wider range of drinks, from fine ales to refined wines and everything in between.

All the students revelled in this lavish environment, eating and drinking, and making all kinds of merry (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOYrI0vCSoE&feature=related). It was a wonderful memory that all there would happily keep for years to come.

At the end of the courtyard, a grand table crowned those of the students, with several members of the Faculty sitting in the state provided by this most grand of feasts.

It was about an hour into this feast when a tall man, withered by age but strengthened by resolve stood from his place at the centre of the faculty table. He wore a face of nobility earned, the achievements of his life carved upon his brow. The musicians grew quiet at his standing, for when Barachiel Neglan spoke, the wise listened.


"Esteemed members of Schola Casus! I, Barachiel Neglan, headmaster of this fine school welcome you. I hope that you have been enjoying our hospitality here in our castle.

But as of today, this is your castle as well. For in signing your name, and taking the crest, you are all members of the Schola Casus, and you are at home. Tonight, we are all equals, be you a prince or a peasant.

You have come here for the most noble of reasons, in search of learning, and the kind of learning that can only be found in these walls. For this, I wish you luck, and I raise my glass to you."

The old man raises his glass, and it is hard to resist his gesture. He carries himself with a steady sense of nobility, like a King, but he speaks to you openly and plainly.

"You will find a list of the classes that we offer here in the entrance to the dormitories. Please sign up as soon as possible, but till then, let the feast continue!"

With that, he sits down again, and the band begins to play once more.

[Mazeburn]

Having arrived early, Vinova has had chance to get an impression of the school before the hustle and bustle of the other new arrivals. For most of the morning she had wandered the halls and empty classrooms, each time feeling a pang of amazement as the little shield opened door after door to her. She held in her hand the key to knowledge - a point particularly struck home when she discovered the library. It had only been the prospect of not being entirely too early for the induction speech which had at last driven her to leave, but not until long after she'd mislaid several hours amid the shelves.

And now Vinova's seated at one of the long tables, right at the front, and she's surrounded by kindred minds eager to learn. Barachiel Neglan's words are still clear in her mind. At home, he had said, and she likes the sound of that a lot. She's already signed up for classes - she'd found the registry just as it was being tacked up, though it had been a tough choice between classes. At last she settled on nine, and resolved to simply sit in on the rest when she got chance. And right now, she feels the need to broadcast her utmost excitement to everyone else on her table.

"I signed up for Fhyzickz! Did you sign up for Fhyzikz? I wonder who teaches it. Well, I mean, I know it's Professor Orpheo Pastor, but I don't know who he is. Only, the one I really can't wait for is Language and Conversation! I wonder when classes start. I hope they start tomorrow! Or... Or tonight!"

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix sidles into the hall looking nervous and anxious. His afternoon has not gone without incident.

He spent way too long going through the dormatories looking for his room, he walked into several open rooms by accident and upset several fellow students. It just seemed like none of the doors were opening specifically for him. He knocked into several of what he could only assume were priceless antique weapons and treasures, stationed on protected display plinths and shelves, almost breaking them, catching one or two before they hit the ground, or not catching in one instance, where he had hurriedly tried to hide the remains of the smashed vase behind a nearby statue before anyone else joined him in that thankfully deserted hallway.

There were so many....people around. He was too scared to introduce himself or ask any questions, most of the school recruits seemed so brave and intimidating he just smiled rather stupidly and moved out of their way as quickly as possible. After finally finding his room, one of the furthest down the hallways, he unpacked. He was thankful that his room had a window with a view, as this would undoubtably aid in him not getting expelled due to reports of the inevitable smoke that usually eminated from places in which he stayed at one time or another. Once he was settled and through trial and error had handed in his, somehow, singed, slobbered on and slightly blood stained, class sign up form, he figured that going down to the hall early was a good move, since being late may draw attention to himself, and the fiasco in the sign-up tent was enough for one day.

So as mentioned earlier, Felix sidles into the hall looking nervous and anxious. He wonders what will happen next and expects an authority figure to jump out at him from out of nowhere and punish and shame him publically for breaking the vase from earlier. Not particularly looking at what he is doing he slides onto a bench at a somewhat populated but quiet table, looking around in all directions, paranoid and pertified.

Suddenly a girls voice sounds excitedly across from him and he almost jumps 3 feet in the air with fright. Had Felix had his wits about him he would never have sat down at a table with a girl at it on purpose. He looks at her as she talks but if she makes eye contact he stares down at the table. When she finishes to a somewhat expectant silence and no one else answers he pipes up in a very shy voice 'I-I didn't know what it meant...Fiz..fishs...that class you said. So I didn't want to take it if I didn't even know what it was, at least the others I already know I'm rubbish at' He gave a meek joking half smile, he is trying to be flippently modest, not self pitying. 'Do you know what it is?' he asks, interested now. He is scared and meek, but oh so eager to learn.

[Mazeburn]

"Fhyzyks," Vinova repeats, beaming eagerly at the boy, her Eastern accent tinting the word like a drop of wine in water. Half-elf, she notices, from his ears and face, though he doesn't hold himself with the same confidence as many of the elves she's seen about. "Manipulation of energy from different sources and controlling their interations with matter and persons. Like magic, but not. And... Don't be silly! You can't be rubbish. Everyone's good at something."

[darkbuu_1]

The long identical hallways make it difficult for Derek to find his way, "This one should be mine" he announces to himself as he stops outside one closed dormitory door. As he reveals his crest the door pops open welcomingly.

Derek gives the bustling hallway a quick look back and forth to check that this door isn’t opening for anyone else, and once confident that it is meant for him, he walks happily inside throwing his bag on to the bed, only for it to roll off and heavily hit the floor, some of its contents spilling out across the floorboards.

"Maybe it's a sign I should unpack" Derek sighs to himself, "At least it waited until now". With a small inconvenient smile he starts to sort through his bag until he gets to a small round hand held mirror which causes him to glance upon his reflection. Up until this point he had completely forgotten that he had run, jumped and fallen for hours through a dense forest and is looking rather the worse for wear. He peers around his new room, and spotting only a small sink, he upturns the bag, grabs a towel, a change of clothes and heads back out into the endless hallways in search of a shower or bathing facility.

Walking the halls he notices that no matter how crowed the hallways get, he is always able to find a clear path, but now he suspects that it may be due to the pungent aura created by his earlier jog through the forest.

About half an hour later he emerges with a new tight sleeveless brown white trimmed shirt and very similar pair of brown 3/4 trousers, his hair still retaining its seemingly improbable, straight-edged shape. He heads back to his room, the hallways far more crowded now that people are willing to get within pit-range of him, though the odorous make shift clothing bag that he has formed with his towel still gains a few disgusted glances as he passes.

The courtyard is full, music and excited chatter fills the air, the tables are packed with food and the seats are quickly becoming occupied. On the look-out for an empty seat Derek heads down the courtyard making his way round the crowed area. Out of the corner of his eye he spots a familiar face, one belonging to the half-elf from earlier.

Derek reaches out his hand and places it on the short half-elf's shoulder, "I'm not sure if I said earlier by the sign up tent, but I'm Derek Aryiss." he says with a warm, welcoming tone while smiling down at the other in a friendly way.

"Wow, that sounds perfect for me!" he says excitedly in reply to the explanation of the human girl across the table. He sits down next to the bewildered half-elf and smiles eagerly at the both of them, "So you know who I am," he beams, "Who are you two? And what else have you signed up for?"

[Mazeburn]

At the newcomer speaks, the girl turns her smile to him.

"Hi there! Nice to meet you, Derek - I'm Vinova," she says happily, wondering exactly what he'd meant by the class sounding perfect. "Other classes... History, Geography, Arcane Studies, Track, Close-Combat... Oh, and Riding, Language... And Unity, of course. And I think that's it... For now."

As usual when meeting new people she has begun to wonder what totem she could make for them, should she need to - for Derek she's not sure, but for the other boy she's thinking something shy - like a mouse. Absent-mindedly, she's taken her own out of her pocket and begun turning it this way and that. It's a simple carving, bare wood worn down smooth. If one knows how to look at it, it might look like a goat wrapped around with flowers - or perhaps just an odd-looking sheep.

[Notak]

Vilo strode through the corridors of the school. Never before had he been surrounded by so many new faces, by people from so many different origins. In the forest everyone knew everyone, for better or for worse, and more than most had the green tinge to their skin. Here though, the tinge was scarce.

He played with the mysterious object given to him at the tent. He was new to magic, he didn't trust it. There were shamans at home, sure, but nothing they ever created was as..."refined" as this crest.

Whilst marching down the halls, dividing a path with just his menacing look and imposing physique, a locked door to his side "clicked" and swung open. Vilo was caught off guard by this and paused in surprise. He heard a snicker from behind, turned, and saw the same small huddle of elves that had dared to whisper about him before. He silenced them with a scowl and grimace, which made his lower canines appear to grow. He withdrew the essentials from his bag and promptly threw it into the room without breaking his piercing gaze, spat ale at the feet of the elves and departed.

Vilo stood in the corner of the courtyard drinking from one of his flasks to have a better view of his surroundings. He was in a new environment. A new environment full of new people. An environment full of new chances to get killed. To be so at ease was foolish.

Then he saw the ale.

And the food.

Heroes die foolish deaths from time to time.

He walks forwards, still holding his flask. Picks up one of the largest tankards of ale and sips at it gingerly. He lowers the tankard from his lips and stares at the liquid inside saying nothing. Slowly he covers his flask and puts it inside his pocket. He grunts as one side of his mouth raises to create a satisfied smile. Suddenly he throws his neck back and pours the entire contents of the tankard into his mouth. In one breath he has easily drunk 3 man's worth of ale. He slams the tankard back down on the table, to the surprise of the people around him, and grandly withdraws a drinking tusk from within his jerkin. He walks over to the tun of ale and begins to fill the tusk. After what seems like an eternity it is full to the brim. That is the drink taken care of.

He casually walks over to a table of food and begins to create a mound of meat on a plate. He cares not what it is, as long as fat is dripping from it.

With ale in one hand and meat in the other, he now remembers to pay attention to his surroundings. He looks for the closest seat and spies one near, by a group of people discussing magic. Could be worse, could be discussing art. It'll do. He strides over and slams his plate of meat down onto the table. He sits, growling an apology to the half elf who he had knocked with his frame as he did so. A leader knows when he has wronged someone he reminds himself, even if that someone is a half elf.

"Vilo Kruudushson." he introduces himself as and then starts to make short work of the pile of meat infront of him. The enormous boar tusk being drunk at a rate that only an orc could manage.

[QuixoticDreams]

H-how did this happen? How did sitting down at a hardly populated table with a small and fleeting lack of full attention land him in the most awkward place Felix could possibly imagine for himself? He is trapped between two beings, unable to get up or leave, even to pee, wedged solidly between a significantly more confident human man and a monstrous and towering Orc, and to make matters infinitely worse, there is a girl sitting directly across from him. What did he do in a past life? By the sea and storm he didn't know!

He clasps his hands together to keep them from trembling and forces himself to meet Vinova's, then Derek's and then Vilo's towering eyes as he spoke, his parents had taught him to look people in the face when talking to them, it was manners, albeit incredibly hard for him. 'My-n-name is Felix, F-felix Flint,' he stammers. 'And I think I've signed up for, uhm.. track, unity, martial arts, alchemy, firearms, engineering and, uh language and con-conversation..' he finishes weakly as he avoids potential fat splurting from the eagerly eating orc. He is too scared to look at the towering being for too long, but remains seated (as if he had a choice) and not at all hostile toward him. He extends a shaking hand to Derek prepared to shake hard with all his might, to show his 'hidden' strength, or..whatever is hidden under his shaking frame, and attempts a weak smile at Vinova, which possibly looks more like some other facial expression. He spots the item she turns in her hands and his eyes light up, he is incredibly interested in gadets and magical items, he leans forward a little with unintended courage. 'What's that?' he asks in a slightly louder voice, then hearing himself shrinks back into his seat and looks down at the table again 'I-if you don't mind me asking...that is.'

[Drakkus]

Kethlan raises his glass to the wise man before him, and is not alone in doing so. The words are poignant, and cleave his attention from the people around him as surely as if a majestic emperor had spoken. There is a tiny germ inside him that makes him feel a little like a fraud, but he quickly quashes it. He's here. This is what he wants. That thought is enough to make his heart leap back into the spirit of the occasion, and he drinks delicately from his glass with a smile.

The afternoon has been an interesting one, certainly. He had glided through the corridors, his desire to observe every little detail about the place only thwarted when observing the ranks of pleasant company took precedence - which was whenever it was present. Naturally when this happened it would simply be rude not to engage said pleasant company in equally pleasant conversation, and by the time Kethlan had been surprised - less than some, but more than he let on - by a door popping open nearly in his face, quite a goodly portion of the evening had elapsed. Still, he had mused as he refreshed himself and unpacked, it had not been time wasted. Already he knew he was in the right place, and they'd barely started. He had already made a few friends, a few distinctly lovely acquaintances, and a piece of paper lay decisively written upon on his bed, covered with names of both classes and students. It hadn't been very difficult to choose his core subjects, though the extras that he didn't doubt he would be taking had required a little more thought. Finally on his way out to the courtyard he had signed up - no sense in risking being let down through later oversubscription - and continued to the warmly lit celebrations. He had flitted between a few tables, strengthening acquaintances made not hours ago in the halls, forging new ones and skirting smoothly around less appealing individuals while sparing no enjoyment of the wine in his glass. He had been about to excuse himself politely from the current table when the headmaster had spoken.

Kethlan lowers his glass from his lips, and takes his leave from the table with a smile, promising to see the occupants again soon. He casts around once more, gaze flitting over the tables and standing groups, and lighting on a group that he's sure he hasn't yet run into. They are a bit of an odd assortment, but that in itself doesn't seem to be odd here. He has just sailed into their view, smoothing down his embroidered doublet, when he notices the orc; his step falters slightly, but it's too late now. He fluidly takes a seat with them and flashes a charming smile just as the most awkward half-elf he's ever seen in his life asks a question of the eager girl, who is fiddling with a strange wooden carving.

"Kethlan DeTide," he says by way of introduction. "That is indeed fascinating - and what may I call the lovely owner of such a lovely carving?"

[Mazeburn]

"Great! We'll be in some of the same classes, then! I can't wait! Oh, this?" Vinova asks, opening out her hands a little to show the statue, then standing it up on the table in front of her. She isn't sure how much people know about true-naming, but it doesn't seem like there's any reason to lie. "Nothing special. Not magic or anything, not the proper kind. It's just a sort of memory guide, I guess you'd call it."

As the smooth-looking elf approaches, she looks up, right into his smile. She's never really been flirted with by anyone who wasn't the local pig-boy back home, so it takes her a moment to work out how to respond to such a honeyed question. "Vinova," she replies after a couple of seconds, smiling back at him. "DeTide... DeTide? You know... I'm sure I've heard that name before."

[Drakkus]

Kethlan watches the girl's reaction, unsure at first and then warm, and relaxes a little more in his seat. It's gratifying, really, to be able to glean a positive reaction from someone with misgivings; for all his attitude of charm and confidence, he's less sure of this business of talking to women than he feels he should be at his age. Never mind; that would change. Is changing, he reminds himself. Along with a few other things while he's at it.

"Vinova," he repeats, rolling the name around in his mouth."Wonderful. Is there...another name to go with that?" When she recognises his own name, he gestures modestly, but his smile is bright."Entirely possible," he replies."We've...contributed, over the generations. To the art of swordfighting." He imagines that if she's au fait with the art, the phrase "DeTide's Riposte" might be known to her. "Do you have a speciality yourself?"

[Mazeburn]

"Just the one name, yes... It's not very common, I doubt we'll get it mixed up. Ahh, DeTide's Risoste." Vinova replies, faltering slightly on the pronounciation. What she doesn't mention is that most of her own swordplay lessons thus far have been largely waving sticks at trees. Oh, sure, her last teacher showed her everything he knew - but if he'd had his name to a technique. Suddenly she's feeling very conscious of her rural upbringing, and is eager to change the topic before she's out of her depth against this well-dressed elf.

"As for me, I'm a true-namer. So I guess you could say I'm all talk," she adds with a smile, a joke she's been wanting to say for probably the past ten years of her life. Pushing back her chair, she stands up and snatches the statue back off the table, tucking it out of sight. "And if I'm not careful, pretty soon I'll be talking in my sleep - we've got Unity first thing tomorrow, so I'm going to turn in. Nice meeting you guys - I'm sure I'll see you in class!"

[Lilithgow]

The party goes on for a few more hours, with the professors leaving the students to their revelry. The band continues to play through till midnight, at which point they leave, dragging their instruments behind them in their lethargic arms.

Little by little, students realise that they do in fact have class the following morning, and some more intelligently leave to grab what little remains of the night, while others are determined to drink the night away - one more to freedom - one more for adventure!

Vinova finds the dormitory corridor filled with students queuing for bathrooms, saying their goodnights or just drunkenly trying to find the door that pops open to their crests.

When she arrives at her room, she finds a timetable pushed under the door, marking the classes ahead, and a confirmation of her chosen subjects. To Vinova, this is less of a surprise, having sought out said timetable several hours earlier that day.

[Lilithgow]

Monday morning arrived in a hurry – the sun blazed through the curtains of all the students, and with it the grand sound of the bell being rung. It was a most intrusive bell, as I recall. Loud and uncaring, it was. Never cared if you’d been beaten raw or even if you’d slept. That bell came, and that meant lessons were soon to follow. Great number of those students pulled themselves out of their beds, instantly full of regret and resent. Others leapt from their beds, eager for their first day. As for our heroes-in-training, well they were an odd bunch to be sure…

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix sits bolt upright in his bed, visions of support beams crashing to the floor in bursts of flame and dinosaurs bursting through bedroom walls wrenching the innocent from their beds, swim before him as he cries out with shock. That bell was loud enough to have been situated in each one of their rooms individually.

He rubs his eyes and climbs tentatively out from under his bedclothes, starting to dress in a hurry. Knowing his luck, something would happen to make him late, so getting a rush on couldn't hurt, right? He figures he owes his disconcerting waking dreams to the sounds of revelry and misdeads that had populated the hallways through to the early hours of the morning, in fact it had pained him to learn with somewhat certainty that his new left hand neighbour was a somewhat accomplished and extremely loud 'ladies man' or else they were in excrutiating pain for most of the evening that had eventually very suddenly and dramatically been quelled.

He Squints down at his timetable that he recieved under his door upon returning to his dormatory room the previous evening, and sees that he has a pretty full morning, and a bit of a gap after lunch. He wonders if the daily meals would be as lavish as the feast they enjoyed the night before, lord knows he can stand to put on a little weight, and the added exercise will not aid the situation when it came time for things like, he cringes, track. But luckily that is tomorrow's issue.

He hurriedly jams some parchment and quills into a sachel, eagearly wondering if the school provides text books on the amazing sujects it offers. Being an individual of little words, he takes great comfort in books, especially those that are on subjects he takes great interest in. Unfortunately over the years, heari brained schemes that are inspired by books don't quite come to safe fruition without the proper instruction. He feels that Schola Casus moght at long last be able to offer him what he has been lacking. Sense.

He gets to the door and pauses annoyed as it won't open, then after a few minutes of trying to push it he remembers the crest, and leaps back to his bedside table to retrieve it, pocketing it as he leaps back to the door, he exits and takes a deep breath, ready to face the new day. Now, where was he off to? He smacked his forehead with his palm and with a disgruntled expressioned turned 360 to face his room door again, which popped obediently open and allowed him to march back inside and retrieve his school map.

He exits his room again and starts to make his way down the halls peering at the map to locate the unity classroom. He shoulders into person after person apologising and bowing apologetically, making his way there as quickly as possible, and waits outside the door to see if others will enter first, as he didn't want to break any school rules, definitely not on his own anyway.

[Notak]

Vilo had, unsurprisingly, stayed up for a large portion of the night drinking and feasting. As the night had progressed, he had started accepting drinking challenges. Man after man, and some women, came to the table to challenge the orc and his drinking tusk. Though Vilo was more than ready to make his way to the day's lessons, he seriously doubted that a few of his challengers would be so willing. Especially those who were dragged to the infirmary.

Having only returned to his chamber close to 6 o'clock, the morning bell to wake him was an annoyance, but not one he hadn't experienced before. He had been trained to wake up at a moment's notice and be fully alert, living in the forest surrounded by danger isn't the place to snooze.

Vilo clothed himself and checked that the crest was in his possession. He walked over to where the timetable and map were crumpled in the corner and looked at them again.

"Unity" he scoffs. Had he any choice, he would never have chosen the "subject". He threw the timetable back into the corner of the room. The map he glanced at briefly, he had wandered around much of the school on his "epic journey" from the courtyard to his room and had picked up a good idea of locations. Though he was confident he had an idea everything was, he "carefully" crumpled the map and stuffed it into his pocket with his fist. "Never forget your map" he again repeats his father's words.

He walked towards his door and entered the corridor making his way to his lesson, only grabbing 2 flasks of ale to last him until lunch. After all, there was work to be done.

[Mazeburn]

When the bell rings, Vinova had been up for some time, sitting in the library and enjoying the time around dawn when the world was well and truly quiet, save for her breathing and the scratching of her quill to parchment. She herself is wide awake, though she doesn't owe that to her eagerness so much as a lifetime of 5am starts. It had been strange last night, hearing the faint sounds of revelry drifting through the veil of her sleep at all hours; back home, you rose and slept with the sun. Goats need looking after, didn't they? She misses them now, as she had every day on the road since home; their snuffly noses, their strange slotted eyes, the way they clamoured to the fence at the sound of her boots on the yard. And she misses her family too. But as the bell rings, she glances down at what she's written.

"Mum and dad, and Samil,
I hope you are well and that the goats are too. Locusbloom will be in flower soon and do not let them eat that. It is the yellow one with <> shape flowers."

And suddenly, Vinova's not sure what else she can say. It's hard enough writing it in that simple blocky script so the town cleric could read it out to them, and harder still to know what they'd understand of this strange place with its glowing battlements and elves and knowledge, so much knowledge. Finally, she adds,

"I am at a place which is good. It is safe. I will write soon.

Love,
Vinova.
xxx"

The girl takes the paper to the open window, and deftly folds it into the shape of a tiny bird. Then, holding it out on the palm of her hand, she says a single word beneath her breath. In a flutter of white, the paper bird comes alive. It flits its head this way and that, then spreads tiny wings and dips out into the morning sky. When it's out of sight, Vinova turns and gathers her things, heading off to Unity.

[darkbuu_1]

The deep chimes of the bell cause Derek to stir.

"Nuuu, already?!" he groans sleepily as he rolls over onto his front in an attempt to get comfortable again - not that he has an excuse as he had departed the feast soon after Vinova, knowing that an early start awaited him. The bell keeps ringing and won't stop just by him willing it to; even if it would have he knows that that's not what he really wants, but the warm and cosy blanket won't give him up that easily.

A swift kick flings the blanket into the air and then careening into a pile on the floor, leaving Derek sprawled out on his bed abandoned. The cold air urges him to get up; in one sudden movement he springs out of bed and starts to rummage through his stuff, fishing out a new set of clothes.

As he heads to the door a thought pings into his mind: ‘where am I going?’ Spinning around, he charges back to the clothes he wore the night before and digs out the contents of their pockets. After throwing them aside he sees his timetable lying neatly folded on his nightstand and, grabbing it, he rushes to joins the packed hallways on his way to class.

Slowly weaving his way through the sea of students to class, his eye catches a glimpse of a large grandfather clock; he stops to stare at it for a second to make sure he has read it correctly, getting bumped by numerous students in the meantime. It's only 7.30am? At that moment his stomach calls out to him and, deciding to spend the intervening time on the lookout for food, he heads to the courtyard in search of leftovers.

[Drakkus]

Kethlan is already awake when the bell begins its infernal tolling, but it still gives him a bit of an unpleasant shock just as he finishes rinsing his hair. He's bright-eyed and proverbially bushy tailed; he stayed for some time more after Vinova left on the tails of her somewhat evasive answers, talking and meeting and drinking and eating with many others into the night, but left far before it was only the more serious partygoers left. As far as he'd gathered - he hadn't stayed terribly long at the table after Vinova had left - the orc that had been mildly terrorising the shy half-elf had been one of those, but he could have been wrong. Sometimes orcs all looked very similar. But Kethlan hadn't desired to have green bags beneath his own eyes on the very first day of term, and so he'd returned to his room with time to wash the smell of smoke out of his person before slipping between the covers for a good night's rest.

The timetable lies prominently on his desk, his subjects neatly highlighted on it. He's quite pleased with how the arrangement has turned out for him: he has three early starts a week, which are not a problem, and invariably two hours free before the lunch period even begins. The best part, however, is that - barring the coming to pass of the text at the bottom of the sheet that warns of the timetable's not necessarily concrete nature - he has nothing after five pm, and this will leave him free to attend or prepare for all the sorts of wonderful social things that tend to be in the evening. It's practically perfect.

With a spring in his step he attends to a light breakfast before heading towards Unity. He had consulted the provided map thoroughly before leaving the privacy of his chamber, not wanting to seem anything but supremely confident in his destination, and his strides are long and sure.

[Lilithgow]

Roughly ten minutes before 8:00, the door pops open, and students start to file in. The Unity Room is a grand hall, almost the size of the courtyard. Rows after rows of finely upholstered benches arc round the room’s semi-circular design. In the centre sits a table, with huge map set out in the centre. The map is of a castle, expertly carved, complete with phenomenally accurate models of tiny armies. At the back of the room sits a clock, ticking closer and closer to 08:00.

Some students are bleary eyed and quietly find seats to rest their heads, while others discuss the festivities of the night. Others move towards the model, looking from a distance at the tiny models.

However, as the clock draws closer to 8, these students hurriedly move to find seats, and several just in time.

The immaculately dressed Professor Marsel enters the room, second-perfect. The room is an amphitheatre, and seats some 60+ people in ascending rows. She sands behind the huge map in the centre of the room.

A marauding army, made of tarnished iron skeletons assaults the castle, grim cavalry riding skeletal wolves. A ferocious dragon sits in the centre of the army, a tiny but defiant figure resting on its back, clearly the enemy leader. A number of tiny catapults stand further down the field, torn from unwilling trees, laden high with flaming spheres. The sheer size of this attacking army dwarfs that of the castle itself, its meagre towers bristling with archers and the few soldiers it has standing pointlessly out the front of the castle.

“This is the siege of Castle Traydelamere, year 712, June 14th. The Lich Jial the Bloody Handed leads an army of twelve thousand raised warriors. The enemy commander rides the black-dragon Tyr-Jjaal. Both rider and steed are immortal. The Castle Traydelamere has at its disposal two thousand knights, one thousand archers, and two hundred horses. There is an untrained population of four thousand sheltering in its walls, mostly women and children.

This battle lasted seven hours, and resulted in the destruction of Lich Jial’s entire force and empire, the Dragon Tyr-Jjaal was slain, at the cost of one thousand, seven hundred and sixty two lives of Castle Traydelamere.
The strategy and tactics deployed in this battle were sufficient to hold off the army, but the Jial was a foe that could not be dissuaded through the loss of his ‘men’.

Victory was won by a group of 6 adventurers, some eight hundred miles east, in Jial’s homeland. They found and destroyed his phylactery, causing the enemy commander to attempt to leave, before being cut down by a group of armed peasants at Castle Traydelamere wielding farming equipment.
Victory was only achieved through this combination of tactics, information and teamwork. This battle, like so many others was won through unity. That is the purpose of this class. You are only as strong as those who stand with you, and poor teamwork and understand will lead to failure. I have looked into all of your class choices, and have allocated you groups who you will be working with.

Those who which to pass my class will get to know their group as well as they know themselves. Learn each other’s weaknesses and strengths, and be aware of your own. As this semester advances, you will be given tasks to carry out as a part of these groups, so your safety during these tasks will directly relate to your ability to work as a team. This year’s groups are as follows:”

At this point, the Professor produces a long piece of parchment and starts to read names out from it, each with a numerical designation. Eventually, your name comes up.

“Team 5. Derek Aryiss, Kethlan DeTide, Felix Flint, Vilo Kruudushon and Vinova.”

The list continues until the entirety of the class has been grouped into their various teams. At times, there are slight snorts of indignation or excited cries that are suddenly muffled by a stern look from the Professor.

“This concludes today’s lesson on Unity. I advise you spend the rest of the hour meeting each other. Next week’s lesson will be on the importance of spatial understanding for those of you who wish to read ahead. The Battle of Impetuous River will be our case study.”

And with that, the woman turns and leaves the room. A mass of students start to sort themselves into their various teams. You can see that the groups seem to be evenly split without any particular care for racial or gender divides, much to several figure’s chagrin. One tall Elf can be heard complaining already, while a large Orc storms out after the professor.
 
http://learningextra.com/pspynett/pcsk/npcs/small/Juliet.jpg

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix listens with bated breath as the lecturer explains their tasks, and feverishly writes down all the dates and numbers in tiny untidy handwriting as she says them, fearful that there might be a quiz. As she finishes and leaves, he watches her go in awe, thinking of what amazing things she must have done in her lifetime.

Felix waits until the rest of the room shuffles itself, not wanting to get into anyone's way. To his not-suprise, he is, as a consequence, left at quite a large expanse of table, on his own. When he looks up, he tentatively waves a hand high in the air, hoping to catch the attention of a team mate that might be looking for him, as and subsequently draw them to the empty area. He remembered mostly Derek and Vinova from the night before, and to some extent the smooth talking Kethlan, who had overtaken his conversation with Vinova. He sighs inwardly. He so badly wants to be useful, and finding them an adequate space to work seemed like a useful thing.

[darkbuu_1]

The story of an epic battle fills Derek's head with ideas of the future, half listening half imagining himself flying on a dragon beating back hoards of undead while the sky rains with arrows from his legion of troops back him up.

Drifting back to his senses as the list of names starts to be called out, Derek focus his attention on Professor Marsel, watching her speak and carefully listening to every word that she says. As Derek hears his own name being called out he grins with excitement, his smile slowly growing still larger with every familiar name that follows his.

The short lesson finishes and a beaming smile covers Derek's face, seeing a hand waving back and forth he spots another member of his new team, he approaches Felix “It must be destiny that we all met last night.” He says, patting the half-elf on the back with a friendly smile, then sitting down in an empty seat.

[Mazeburn]

"Not destiny, I think," says Vinova as she joins them at Felix's desk. She's smiling again now, her near constant expression, though anyone who watched her during Professor Marsel's lecture would have seen a look of deep concentration and intrigue on her dark features. "We were talking right in front of the staff table yesterday, maybe they just thought our skills matched."

"So... I guess we should get to know each other," she says, perching herself on the edge of the table. She looks up at the other groups, slowly forming themselves with a mixture of enthusiasm, and counts herself lucky that her team isn't one of the ones which already look like they're ready to tear each others throats out. "What do you guys specialise in?"

[Drakkus]

Kethlan listens with utmost attention to Marsel as she lays down the introduction of Unity, hanging on her every word. He manages to hide the extent of his interest behind a carefully placed veneer of tranquillity, constructed with precision to make sure he doesn't look inattentive to the Professor, and makes some notes in the same flowing hand with which he had signed up to the entire schola business. It looks lovely to behold from a slight distance, but becomes a little bit troublesome when trying to actually decipher it as an unfamiliar reader.

When she reads out the names of those in his group, Kethlan does indeed recognise them, but it takes him a small moment to sort them out from the sheer number of other name-and-face combinations he's absorbed in the short time he's been here. But the last name, Vinova, is quite the assistance; it seems to be the minority here that go by a single name. He sees her at a desk with the shy half-elf and the human that had been there the previous night, and swans over to join them just as she seats herself on the edge. The sight of them together, however, reminds him of who the last member of the company will be, and he casts a quick glance around before making sure that he arrives at the desk in a position the orc cannot possibly assail.

Once again, he smiles winningly at the girl. "Swordplay, naturally. Though related areas are of course my forté as well." He glances around the others, meeting each of their gazes easily in turn with a welcoming look. "What about yourselves?"

[Notak]

Vilo walks into the lesson expecting to scoff at whatever it is this person thinks she can teach him. "Unity". Vilo had already been lectured by his father that the most important thing a warrior and leader can posess is the ability to work together and to value each and every person under his command.

He knows, however, as soon as he walks into the room that he is going to be enjoying this lesson. The fact that there is a battle laid out before him fills him with joy. He takes a seat at the back of the classroom and waits patiently for the lesson to start.

Upon hearing the teacher's name, he remembers his father talking about someone with a similar name, though he can't quite remember why. As the old lady starts to talk Vilo pays some attention to what she is saying. Though he understands the value of tactics, he doesn't possess the patience to always follow them through. As she finishes talking, Vilo notices a fellow orc storm out of the room after the woman. The tinge of his green skin helps Vilo decide what clan he is from and upon remembering the clan name, realises why he has heard of this woman. He will pay more attention to her in the future.

He strolls over to the table where the group he has been allocated to are sitting, noting that there are multiple elven folk at the table. Time to make the best of a bad situation. He ignores whatever it is they are saying and slams down one of his drinking flasks with his ham fist. He says nothing and just stands, staring at them.

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix smiles genuinely as all the familiar faces turn up and seat themselves around him, he feels excited, and accepted, that all recognised him and came to sit where he had found them acceptable space. He feels a flood of warm and joyous feeling well inside him as the human Derek pats him on the back, and the lovely Vinova seats herself beside them. Could he be making friends? His heart starts to thunder at the mere concept of it.

'I uh, haven't really found my calling yet.' He smiles nervously as Kethlan DeTide finished his re-introductions. If you don't count causing untold chaos without meaning to, or embarrassing myself beyond reconciliation, he added in his head, the thought of embarrassing himself in front of his potential new friends sends a shiver of fear through him. Though honestly it could just be the shadow of the enormous Orc passing over him that caused it.

Felix gulps audibly as the large Orc slams the tankard onto the table, he sides up to Derek a little, in an effort to retreat. He had obviously blocked out the memory of the Orc from the night of the feast, for what he can only assume is his own cardiac health, but it all comes crashing back as the green eyes pass over him with dislike registering his faint elven features.

[darkbuu_1]

As the large Orc slammed his tankard onto the table, Derek blinked, immediately taking the large thud of Vilo's drink as a solo attempt at a toast, and registering that finally, since the Orc had joined them, their group was complete.

Felix's answer takes Derek a little by surprise, looking to Felix he says kindly, “I'm sure you'll find out what you were born to do soon, and you'll be great at it.”

“As for me. . .” Derek stands up proudly, glancing around at his fellow team mates then staring past them into the middle distance and continuing, “I am a warrior, chosen by the dragons themselves to fight on their behalf.” this is a speech he has rehearsed many times with many different inflections and tonal variations, though this time he feels it came across as one of his slightly better versions, perhaps he was better with an audience. Sitting back down, rather pleased with himself, he eagerly anticipates similar explanations from the rest of his party.

[Mazeburn]

"Dragons?" Vinova says, turning on the word excitedly. She's seen a few magical creatures on her short travels, but back home the most magical thing they had was Luby the Blessed Mare. She'd never quite been sure what the blessing was, and the old horse had been a foul-tempered old nag, but everyone said it was definitely there. Dragons, she thinks, sound a lot more exciting, though perhaps equally likely to try and bite your nose off. "Really? Have you ever seen one? I've always wanted too..."

She glances around the room for a moment, then grabs her bag. "You know... She just told us to get to know each other for the next hour, not that we had to sit here - there's so much of the castle I still want to explore. How about we head out and learn the layout a bit?"

[Notak]

Vilo frowns as they seem to ignore his gesture, maybe they don't understand what he meant.

"We are in a team. Drink."

He realises that, though he is simply frowning, he had been warned before about how non orcs are easily scared. Especially elves. He attempts to correct this and make a neutral face, managing to conjure a slightly reduced scowl.

"We drink and then we can walk." he says staring at the girl. He "places" his copy of the school map onto the table. It rolls for a short while before settling in the crumpled heap it had left his pocket in. He then turns his attention to the tiny human.

"Dragons? Are you from the mountains?"

[darkbuu_1]

Derek reaches out his hand picking up the flask that Vilo has offered and lifts it up in a gesture of cheers, then after resting the flask back down on the table, still in his hands, yet to take a drink he starts to explain himself “I'm not really from the mountains, my village, Azell near the base of a mountain range built around the silver mines.” he says trying to think of how to put the rest of what he has to say lifting the drink to his mouth once again, interrupting his own thoughts he decides to come right out and say it.

As he starts to come clean he keeps putting the drink down, lifting the flask to his mouth at every pause but still not managing to drink “As for the Dragons, I haven't actually met any yet.” He admits, unease in his voice, but soon starts up again with his normal cheerfulness slowly restoring itself, “But there is a legend in my family, they say that at a time of great peril one of my great ancestors asked the dragons for power to defend the land, which they granted him, and every so often a child is born in to our family with the power and blessing of the dragons, and that's me!”

He leans back on his chair picking up the flask one last time and taking a swig without a second thought. This isn't his first taste of alcohol, he has had strong beer before, even beer that the dwarves said was strong, but this, this, was in a different league even to that. Instantly regretting his choice, he coughs and splutters dazedly, nearly falling from his chair.

[darkbuu_1]

Derek reaches out his hand picking up the flask that Vilo has offered and lifts it up in a gesture of cheers, then after resting the flask back down on the table, still in his hands, yet to take a drink he starts to explain himself “I'm not really from the mountains, my village, Azell near the base of a mountain range built around the silver mines.” he says trying to think of how to put the rest of what he has to say lifting the drink to his mouth once again, interrupting his own thoughts he decides to come right out and say it.

As he starts to come clean he keeps putting the drink down, lifting the flask to his mouth at every pause but still not managing to drink “As for the Dragons, I haven't actually met any yet.” He admits, unease in his voice, but soon starts up again with his normal cheerfulness slowly restoring itself, “But there is a legend in my family, they say that at a time of great peril one of my great ancestors asked the dragons for power to defend the land, which they granted him, and every so often a child is born in to our family with the power and blessing of the dragons, and that's me!”

He leans back on his chair picking up the flask one last time and taking a swig without a second thought. This isn't his first taste of alcohol, he has had strong beer before, even beer that the dwarves said was strong, but this, this, was in a different league even to that. Instantly regretting his choice, he coughs and splutters dazedly, nearly falling from his chair.

[Notak]

Vilo beams at the human, the joy from his face is obvious. He grins at him while he splutters and admires him for it. Tales of men born for dragon's tales sparks his fancy.

"My brother! I am Vilo Kruudushon! I have seen you before but I do not know your name? I am from the forests near the mountains to the south east from here. I have only heard legends of dragons in my time but to be standing in the presence of one with their blessing is a great honour to me" He drinks long from the flask in accordance to his tradition and to acknowledge that the man before him is blessed by dragons, before slamming it back down to the table waiting for the next member of the team to accept his toast.

Vilo tries to hide the enthusiasm in his voice but to no avail, he likes this person and there is no help trying to hide that fact. Any human that can take a swig of orcish ale and stay upright, even if he wishes not to, is a man to be respected.

[Mazeburn]

"Uh... Which dragons, exactly?" Vinova asks, reaching out for the flask. She's sure she's heard more tales about evil dragons ravaging the world than good ones helping out the local community. She sniffs apprehensively at the contents of the flask; it's stronger than anything they had back home, except maybe for cleaning wounds. Regardless, Vinova takes a swig, knowing how much stock many of the orc tribes put in their rituals. As it hits the back of her throat, it feels like she's just gotten into a fist fight with a fire elemental, but she tries not to let it show.

Rolling a fort save to take it like a man...
[roll0]

[Mazeburn]

((double post, deleted))

[Notak]

Vilo grins at the girl as she drinks from the flask. He doesn't know many women, aside from the women of the tribe, but you can barely call them women, who can drink his ale and stay concious let alone as composed as Vinova. He grabs the flask and drinks long in appreciation of the gesture, he is starting to realise that this, otherwise mundane, ritual of his tribe may prove to be a challenge that his new team mates did not expect.

He casts his eye over the two folk remaining, one fully elven and one with an elven likening to him. This should be interesting.

[Drakkus]

Kethlan manages not to recoil too obviously from the flask's impact with the unfortunate table, and smiles a little skittishly at Vilo before listening to the others. He's about to wholeheartedly agree with Vinova's notion of getting out of the cramped space with a greenskin in it when Vilo and Derek's exchange thwarts him. He casts a sympathetic glance in Felix's direction - the poor half-elf doesn't seem to be enjoying the intrusion any more than he - but then finds his gaze drawn back to the flask as it repeats its traumatic meeting with the desk. Unfortunately the humans' acceptance of the barbaric toast offered seems to have placated Vilo - unfortunate in that it means that Kethlan will doubtless have to follow suit in order to make this continue smoothly.

He mentally girds his loins, and reaches hesitantly for the flask. To truly succeed, he tries to convince himself, one must have unity. One must...be respected by those one must work with. One must... The contents of the flask looks and smells highly dubious. He raises it slightly in the direction of the orc.

"And what is your calling, Vilo?" he asks, and takes a sip. The fermentation hits the back of his mouth like a minute napalm, and he only just hauls a coughing fit into a particularly forceful clearing of his throat before setting the flask back down on the desk, very far away from him.

He hopes it was worth it, good grief.

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix's eyes dart around to the other groups to see if anyone else has moved from the room. 'I-I don't know if we should leave, we might get into trouble, what if she comes back and-and we m-miss something?' he stutters in a very small voice.

He watches wide eyed as Derek and Vinova converse about dragons, a palpable fear in his chest at the mere thought of the beasts. He has never seen one himself, and would like to keep it that way. Though knowing him he could probably trip one up enough for it to spontaneously combust somehow. He shudders at the thought.

Felix eyes the flask with reluctance as it is slammed upon the table, and watches each member of the team take a meaningful measure of it. The smell of it moving around the table, and the way it taints their breath as the air from each chest cavity is expelled and mixed with their collective air intake has already made him light headed. With a trembling hand he reaches for the flask, unable to quite lift it confidently he pulls it over to himself, then uses one hand supporting the other to lift it as high as is possible for him, towards the towering orc, then gives a (physically) strained respectful smile, and brings the flask to his lips. One mouthful, two; he barely manages to keep the flask aloft without slopping it down himself, and then sets it down with a triumphant (albeit faint, due to the limited height he can manage to lift it) bang.

With a satisfied smile he emerges from behind the flask, he looks to his team members, thinking, 'I did it! That wasn't so ba-'

Felix teeters, and falls backwards off the bench to the floor. Mayhaps half a mouthful would have been enough.

[darkbuu_1]

His coughing starts to die down, only for it to be replaced with a weak but persistent headache as the alcohol rushes through his blood and takes effect. He looks up at Vinova's question, unease washing over him again. It suddenly occurs to Derek that he is going to need to start reworking his introduction speech.
"I don't actually know their names,” He says, with noticeably less confidence than before, “even the last appearance of a Dragon Knight happened many generations ago.” He looks away as he talks, longing and awe in his voice, but then he meets her eyes again and his old confidence returns anew. "When I become a true hero, I'll earn the opportunity to meet them."


Suddenly, a few seconds after the flask hits the table for the final time, the small hald elf that had been sitting by Derek's side disappears off the back of his seat out of view, Derek blinks and turns rapidly on his seat to see if Felix is alright.

[Lilithgow]

As the half elf hits the floor, there is a loud chiming from in the room. A large number of students look round to see that the clock is beginning to chime for midday, and with it next lessons.

Several students look with horror and sprint off as fast as they can, while others slowly head off. Left in the room is a tall elven figure, carefully studying the model.

[Notak]

Vilo bellows with laughter and bends down to pick up the half elf off the floor as he hears the bell. Whilst doing so he makes the utmost effort to smile at the elf who had managed to drink the ale. No other elf he had met before had been able to drink from his mug. Having said that, not many got the chance.

He grabs Felix by his jerkin and attempts to hoist him into the air

[roll0]

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix, just about coming back to conciousness, flutters his eyelids and groans, feeling rather....weightless. That was some strong ale he thinks to himself, as he feels like he is no longer subject to gravity.

That may actually be because Vilo had hoisted him into the air though, he realises with a large gulp. 'Th-thank you' he stutters to the large orc, 'Sorry about falling, I've never really had much ale before.' he says sheepishly 'It tastes really good though!' he adds a little more enthusiastically, the lingering taste of the drink still coating the back of his throat.

He smiles sheepishly, still possibly suspended in the air. He wonders vaguely if Vilo will give him a 'lift' to their next shared class.

[darkbuu_1]

Derek retrieves a folded but already dog eared piece of paper from his pocket, unfolds it on to the table and then leans over it, “It says. . .” putting his finger on their next box, then moving his finger so he can read it “Engineering? And after that it’s going to be. . .” sliding his finger to the next box he recognises, “Close quarters combat, but only after lunch.” Derek glances around to the rest of his team “What about you lot, anyone else got a gap before lunch?”

[Notak]

The orc looks at Felix, whom he is still holding high with one arm, he grins at the compliment on his ale and turns to Derek, still not putting him down.

"I have nothing until combat, but first i'm going to be taking little Felix here to his lesson if he has one, he might be late! You got anything?" he asks facing the 8' half elf.

[Mazeburn]

"I'm free until Close-Combat too," Vinova says, quite impressed with how she'd held her portion of the drink compared to the skinny half-elf. "But... I'm going to head to the library, I want to read up on it beforehand. But wait! Before that. Uhm."

She pauses and glances at her feet for a moment, wondering on how they'll react. At least the room was nearly empty now. Mavaje had always told her to be careful how she asked, and even shown her the scars he'd been given by those who hadn't been that willing, or hadn't understood. But... They seem like good folk, don't they? She looks up.

"Can I have your names?" she asks as politely as possible, smiling at each in turn. "I mean... your true names?"


Okay! :B You guys now have to make a Will save of DC 14 or automatically tell Vinova your true name. Which you won't know beforehand or be able to remember afterwards. You can deliberately fail the Will save if you're cool with Vinova having your true name.

And what does it do? You'll find out. xD

[Drakkus]

Apparently it had been worth it. Kethlan manages a wonky smile back at Vilo, which turns only slightly horrified at the sight of him slinging the small Felix over his shoulder. He welcomes the change of the subject onto, well, subjects, and easily recalls the timetable back in his room.

"I'm free as a bird until Close Combat myself," he says cheerily. "I think I might perhaps have a bit more of a look-around." He stops short when Vinova pipes up again though, smiles back, and nods because it sounds rather flattering even though he's not quite sure what she actually means - and then he's saying something, syllables he's never heard before in his life, and then they're gone. Just like that. He's fairly sure he just said something, but he has genuinely no idea what it was. He blinks at Vinova, not used to being on the back foot in a conversation of all places, and smiles uncertainly.

"I'm sorry, I think I just...I don't really. Um." He really, really wants to know what just happened, and he probably looks confused as all hell, but he can't quite summon the humility in his current state of unsettlement to actually ask.

[darkbuu_1]

*Derek blinks confusedly at Vinova, a little bewildered 'I would but I have no idea what you're talking about' he thinks as his head tilts slightly, but instead of saying that, he blurts out a word he's never heard before or said or even known how to say before, and as quickly as it came, it was gone from his mind, with him only remembering having said something with no real idea what.

All of this left Derek even more confused, but he smiled obligingly, wondering if this is what actually what she had wanted. With everyone soon heading off in their own direction he decided that he would have to find something to keep his attention for a couple hours, a potentially dangerous prospect.

[QuixoticDreams]

Felix gulps as the orc stares at him, and then breaks into an equally pleased grin as Vilo does, and his face lights up as Vilo offers to give him a...'haul'? to his next lesson. Turning up being carried by a really strong and tough Orc might get him some street cred. ' E-engineering p-please?' he stutters, still smiling widely.

As Vilo hears him and then turns away to speak to the others, Felix looks around, suspended in the air to see if anyone may be looking admiringly at him being hoisted fearlessly into the air by the towering Vilo, and then blinks, diverting his attention back to the group, caught by the soft words and listening a little confusedly to Vinova's question, 'True names?' he asks bewildered. Depending on his current 'willingness', he then either blurts out a very strange word and then forgets about it, or waits for her explanation.

[roll0]

[Notak]

Vilo turns confused to the girl. His name is Vilo Kruudushon, as he had already said. He opens his mouth in an attempt to say it again, just to clarify things for the girl.

Go to OOC thread for the mad rolling ability.

[Mazeburn]

As the last of her new companions utter their truenames, Vinova smiles and gives a short bow, then eyes Kethlan for a moment.

"Uh, I'll explain later! See you in Close Combat!"

With that, she grabs her bag and is gone, making her way through the winding corridors towards the library. Already the liquid syllables are fading in her mind, like trying to hold water in cupped hands, and she doesn't have long to commit them to memory.

[Lilithgow]

The Orc hoists the half-elf onto his shoulder and with a quick and mighty stride starts to move through the corridors, parting groups of students with ease, moving on before the sudden exclamations can be heard properly. He sprints round corridors, following the directions that still populate the walls of the school, leading him closer and closer to the engineering laboratory. After about 5 minutes, he arrives, deposits his passenger safely onto the ground, patting him on the head, before striding off, back round the winding corridors of the school.

Engineering – Suggested Listening (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jryus3IfS6Y)

Down in the deeper levels of the castle, there lay a grand door, all etched in brass. This was the gate to the land of Samantha Berey – surgeon of clockwork. You’d do well to listen when she spoke, because you’d be sure to learn something.

The door opens with just a touch, swinging itself open with a wild clicking and hissing. The sound is jarring in the wide and empty hall, and before your eyes lays a large number of workbenches and a huge blackboard, covered in complex drawings and a thick layer of chalk dust filling in the gaps. In front of the chalkboard on a footstool stands Samantha Berey. A Halfling, no more than 3ft6, she holds a piece of a chalk and wears an expression of acute irritation, as if one had just dropped something behind a heavy desk. Several other faces turn to face you as the door hisses open.

“You must be Mr…Flint, unless you are lost instead of late. I shall not hold this against you, as it is reasonable that you could not follow the numerous signs here, or perhaps you missed the large clocks that patrol the halls. But please try to be on time in future.”

Her voice is high, but filled with such a piercing tone that it reminds one of the flavour of an extremely sharp piece of fruit.

“As I was saying, this is Engineering. I am Samantha Berey, and it is my considerable task to teach you how to create wonders from raw materials. The course will be nearly entirely coursework related, and I assure you will see this laboratory a lot more than is scheduled on your timetables if you intend to do well.

Your first few lessons will be entirely comprised in your construction of tools. A good engineer uses good tools, while a great engineer makes their own. Tools are your hands, and you must know them if you ever hope to make anything of any value.”

As she reaches the end of this speech, everyone notices the considerable tool belt firmly attached to her hip.

“Oh yes, and there will be no long clothes in my lab, nor long hair, nor drinks of any kind. If you break any of these rules, you will find yourself in a different class soon afterwards.”

Around the lab are a huge number of large devices, spiralling contorting forms metal and wood. Ranging from huge and bulky firearms resting above doors, to exquisite animals of iron. Everything is polished to a wonderful shine, and looks more valuable than anything you’ve ever owned.

The lesson continues with Ms Berey instructing the class on the correct names and worryingly vast number of tools at her and possibly your disposal.


CLOSE QUARTERS COMBAT – Suggested Listening (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSkb0kDacjs)

By the time Close Quarters rolls around, the sun has risen high into the sky, and a large group of students have gathered in a large field, just outside of the castle. High towers look down on a large chalk ring on well-kept grass. A familiar tent sits just outside of it, but instead of a signing book, this time it holds a huge number of weapons of all shapes and sizes. Every one looks worn and wise.

In front of the tent, stands Keo Nlack, wearing the same jerkin as the first time you all met him. He greets a few students as they make their way into the growing circle of equally eager and worried faces.

“Welcome, Students! Welcome to my class. Today will be for many of you the first time you hold a blade. It will be a life-changing experience. I will teach you how to hold steel, how to live with it and most importantly how to live with what you do with it. Let us get started.”

He gestures everyone into a large circle. As it forms, he strides into the centre, grabbing a gleaming short sword as he goes.

“Now this is our circle. Everyone must pay attention to what transpires in this circle. Everyone looks out for everyone else and they will look out for you.”

He begins to swing the sword around, wide swathes at first, steadily refining into more measured and more delicate movements, till eventually his sword dances. It moves like a being in its own right, and looks like it dodges the air it moves through.

“You must pay close attention, for this is not a safe lesson. This is a lesson that deals in dangerous things, and every movement is a dangerous one.”

Both Keo and the blade swing together and there is a sudden rush of wind. It floods out across the circle and rushes past everyone, blowing hair and clothes. Keo walks back to his tent, and places the sword back on the table, before turning to the group.

“So, tell me. Who has fought before?”

[Drakkus]

Close Quarters Combat
Kethlan is beginning to wish he had had an even lighter lunch than he'd actually opted for. This is it. This. Swordplay. His family, his livelihood, supposedly his life. This is why he's here - at least partly - and now he is here, that is to say actually in front of the swordmaster and not just standing like a lemon before the main gates, the expectation is gnawing at him. He had been initially surprised to see the swirl-eyed man listed next to the subject, but he supposed that this would explain the man's clear knowledge of and interest in his family's technique; Kethlan had swiftly gathered that those students with little prior swordplay experience had absolutely no idea who he was, which was both refreshing and slightly insulting, and so Keo Nlack's response, while being the one he was more used to, had seemed more significant. He watches Keo like a hungry wolf - if wolves ever devoured information rather than flesh - his eyes unfailingly trained on every tiny movement, and not even the sudden gust breaks his concentration, though he does wonder at it.

The question, however, stops him in his mental tracks.

Yes, he's fought before. He's fought a lot. Unending training and tests and duels, honing his skills to a keen edge of Not Good Enough. He knows he's a lot better than a lot of people - certainly those his age, and he'd dare say a good deal of those older than him - but he's Not Good Enough. But he's probably what passes for an expert among the students, and in his mind's eye he sees them all turn to him expectantly, though of course they do no such thing. And he must live up to expectations. He raises a hand.

"I have," he announces, and damnit, there is the slightest wobble to it. He rectifies that. "Of course," he adds clearly.

[darkbuu_1]

Close Quarters Combat
Derek listens as the elf speaks out clearly and a little arrogantly, and curses inwardly at not speaking up sooner himself. He takes an excited step forward and loudly states "I have too!" extending his right hand straight out to his side, a bright white light light begins to emanate from his palm. At first it glimmers as a small orb of light which quickly starts to stretch out in length into something resembling a long object made entirely of bright dazzling light.

Swiftly snatching the glowing pole out of the air, the light starts to dissipate to reveal an ancient looking black metallic spear, roughly the size of a javelin, with a large ornate tip embellished at the hilt with a small but deadly-looking spike on the opposite end.

Then spinning it in his hand and taking an offensive stance with a large grin on his face, he waits, this is was the reason he had come here.

[Mazeburn]

Close Quarters Combat
Having seen Keo's rather elaborate display, Vinova too is beginning to feel that her own skills are remarkably inadequate. There had been a time when she had marvelled at her last teacher's skill with the blade, watching in awe as his steel danced like a dragonfly through the summer air, but in those days she'd still been clutching a doll. Back then, he'd been the greatest swordsman in the world - but back then her world had been a tiny village full of goats and turnips and the scent of wild jasmine. Watching Keo drove that point home clearer than ever before, and she begins to feel almost guilty about the little wooden blade she wore in the scabbard at her hip, like it and her own paltry skills are just some mocking forgery of some great and glorious art.

This isn't an impression helped when Kethlan steps up with a voice full of what she interprets as lazy confidence, and not least when Derek pulls a spear made of darkness from the very air itself. For a moment, Vinova's stunned; she's seen magic many times, but rarely so casually; and what does she have, a bunch of words which don't mean anything to anyone? But she doesn't want to be the only one from their group not to admit to any combat experience, so she lays one hand on the lacquered wooden hilt at her belt and steps forward, a weak smile on her lips.

"Me as well. Just a bit."

[Notak]

Close Quarters Combat
Vilo watches Keo dance with the blade. He has seen many swordsman and he watches the blade flicker and dart. He still sees it as it speeds up and the movement refine further and further. And then it vanishes. Vilo was good at watching things, he knew he was, he could watch an arrow in flight right before his eyes, but this sword vanished into thin air not 5m away from him. Keo finishes his demonstration and addresses the class.

Vilo still cannot believe that the sword vanished from him and is distracted, he doesn't register the words Keo says. He then snaps back into life as other people step forward or raise their voices. They're talking about fighting. Talking about using a weapon before. He isn't surprised by the smugness in the elf's voice, they all think they can use their little swords better than anyone ever has before. He was expecting this from the elf. What he was not expecting was the magic spear to appear out of thin air and to be twirled with such ease and grace by the small human. To Vilo's surprise, the girl raises her voice and claims to have fought before, he eyes the piece of wood that hangs by her side. He can't help but smirk at the "weapon", warnings from his teachers to not underestimate things had clearly fallen on deaf ears. He thinks it is time to make his mark.

There is a loud, solid thud as a wedge of earth is compressed under immense weight. Vilo stands behind the great war axe. The head of the axe reaches his knees, and the handle his waist. He stands there behind it. Grinning. "I have." he growls "Of course." he adds sarcastically before heaving the huge axe with one arm onto his shoulder and rolls it between thumb and fore finger as if it were no more than a twig.

[Lilithgow]

Close Quarter's Combat

As the four step forwards, drawing various weapons, several other figures step forwards from the crowd. Among them are all the other orcs, several dwarves, elves and several humans as well. Several of these figures stick out in particular.

Among them are a dwarf who lifts a hammer the size of himself, "Since birth." he says almost nervously, swinging the huge stone as he does so.

A tall male elf, seen earlier at the Unity lesson produces a fine dagger seemingly made of glass. "Several years now, self taught."

A female dwarf who steps forward, throwing a hand hammer into the ground as she does. "Coupl' times." She spits.

A huge orc steps forwards, producing a similar axe to that of Vilo's. "All our tribe are trained."

Finally, when those in the class have finished stepping forwards, a slick haired man steps forwards. "Once or twice..." He states, his voice laden with arrogance. He brings his hands up, and begins to whisper quickly. "By that which was once, by that which I know, now bind unto me your power."
A runic circle passes out of his hand, leaving a shining sword behind it.
There is another moment of quiet in the group, just as with the black spear's arrival.

"Good good! I am glad to see more than previous years. It seems we may have some real potential in the class as well. Now, everyone who has a weapon, please put it away, and then everyone please fetch a wooden weapon from my tent, then return to the circle. Save for you, Miss Vinova! Ha ha. Do not worry which weapon you take if you are unsure, just take one that feels right for the time being."

On closer inspection, the tent contains a huge number of wooden weapons, all shapes and sizes.

"Once you have your weapon, we will begin today's lesson in earnest."

There is audible irritation from some in the crowd, not least the slick haired human, but they steadily move to the tent, acquiring wooden weapons as they do.

By the time the circle has been reformed, Keo has sheathed his sword, and also holds a wooden blade. He reaches down, and in a single perfect sweep, draws a fine circle into the dusty ground around him.

"This is my aura. This is the single most important factor in learning how to fight. You must always be aware of your aura, and those of others. It will keep you alive, which is the most important goal of any fighter.

I would like you all to pair off, and we will attempt to find our auras. All those who have fought before, you will partner with another who has experience."

Keo starts to point at random people one after the other, calling them by name before pairing them up with other random students, and those pair start to move towards each other, before leaving the circle.

Pairing Up with People!

Derek is with Hope Irons, a pretty human girl, with short blonde hair and freckles. She holds a wooden longsword in both hands, slightly apprehensive at the thing.

Kethlan is pairing up with Lokrim Forgeborn- a stocky dwarf with the huge hammer. He has bright red hair, and is holding a large wooden hammer - like you might find at a fair.

Vino is with Lifa Hammerblow, the spitting dwarf. She has messy long black hair, and holds a short wooden axe in her left hand.

Vinova is paired with Conrad Finley the arrogant human. He is a medium height, with greasy looking silver hair. With great dismay he holds a wooden rapier.


Once everyone is paired up, Keo once again address the now disbanded circle.

"First, I would like you draw your aura. We will then do some simple sparring, and compare to what we have drawn!"

[Mazeburn]

Close Quarter's Combat:
As the other students fetch their wooden weapons, Vinova draws out her stick-sword and runs her fingers gently along the edge. Simple as it was, she was fond of it; it had been cut, years ago, from an old walnut tree that splayed out its branches above her bedroom window, back at home. She knows every inch of it, the reason for every nick and scratch in the smooth wood. The edge is about as slim as two fingers held together, and though it isn't sharp, but she knows it can deliver a very nasty crack across the knuckles, as she's felt while sparring many times. While Keo demonstrates the aura, she watches silently, then turns to greet her partner with an open smile.

"Nice to meet you," she says, stepping up to face him and arcing her sword through the dust to create a wide circle. Straightening up, she assumes her fighter's stance, the blade in her right, her left hand behind. "I'm Vinova. And I didn't catch your name..?"

[QuixoticDreams]

Engineering
Felix grins, panting as he swings the magnificent hissing and clanking door open, his head over his shoulder as he watches the last of Vilo disappear around the corridor corner. He turns back to the class and his step falters magnificently. All the muscles in his body freeze and his face falls like a bowling ball from the top of a two story building. After matching the piercing gaze of Samantha Berey for barely a second, his shoulders hunch and his eyes fall to his shoes, the slightly pointed tips of his ears turning scarlet.

Her sarcastic explanation for his lateness sends his stomach into knots, he longs to explain that for that last 10 or so minutes he had not been the one in charge of his pace, and far would it have been for him to yell ‘mush’ or ‘giddy up’ draped over the shoulder of a towering, monstrous Orc.

He shuffles as quietly as possible into an empty seat and with no precision draws out of his bag parchment and quill, as usual upending his ink bottle all over his right hand and wincing as he catches it just before it hits the ground.

Once settled and less ‘smudgey’, having wiped his hand on his black three quarter trousers, he begins to furiously take notes in a thin and small but utterly incomprehensible scrawl, hanging off of her every word and drawing little diagrams of each of the tools she shows them as quickly as he can. Every pause she makes he can’t help but marvel at the amazing constructions that live around the room, he is so curious and already has an aching desire to take them apart and see how they all work.

'That's one way to get yourself expelled lunk-head, as if being late wasn't a good enough start', he muses.

[Drakkus]

Close Quarters Combat
Kethlan isn't so distracted by his own musings that he misses the orc's echo of his own words, and they turn his attention away from the surprising magical display from Derek and Vinova's endearing implication that her wooden sword is a weapon. He's not sure what he did to deserve the sarcasm, but isn't it just like a greenskin to think that they have battle superiority because they can lift heavy weights with ease. His gaze doesn't linger on Vilo, and moves on to the next speaker - and the next, and the next. Just as he's relaxing again, mentally ranking his known fighting form against what he suspects are the others', he is swiftly unsettled again by a man's conjuration of a sword out of a runic circle. And with his subtext hat on, "once or twice" translates directly to "lots of times, and don't I know it". The problem with conjured weapons is that one can't see how they settle, day to day, on the bearer's hip - if they're comfortable, another limb, or if they're awkward and in the way. Far more difficult to assess your opponent's skill.

But this is a point made moot by Keo pairing him with an enormous wooden hammer - that is to say, a dwarf with an enormous wooden hammer. Kethlan himself has a sword, naturally, and though his instruction has for very many years been in knowing the feel of metal after his arm, rather than wood, and it brings back memories of his younger years, he feels himself adjusting to its weight and balance - or relative lack thereof. He leans down and frowns as he draws his oval in the dust; he's not quite as sure of the shape of it with this surrogate weapon, but it's probably near enough. Seeing Keo's circular aura has given him a new surge of respect for the swirl-eyed man, even given the display of a few moments ago, and he spares a thought to wonder at the level of training and experience he has. Kethlan is, dare he say it, in the right place.

He straightens up again, then steps forward to offer his hand to his opponent. If he can drink the brew of an orc, he can certainly shake the hand of a dwarf. He hadn't known this one's name before Keo gave it; his list of contacts is admittedly skewed towards the female, and though there are plenty of men on it anyway, they aren't quite as exhaustive.

"Kethlan," he says warmly, in case the dwarf hadn't caught it. "It's good to meet you, Lokrim."

[Lilithgow]

Engineering (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jryus3IfS6Y)

The lesson continues, with more and more tools. Implements of iron and brass seem to appear and vanish at alarming pace, with Berey laying out huge amounts of information in next to no time. A general feeling of confusion and nausea permeates the students.
Despite their best efforts, several of the class look down at their frantically scribbled notes to find that in that split second, they have fallen behind. The sprint for notes continues throughout the entire lesson, punctuated by a sudden and deafening thud as Berey drops a huge book on her desk.
“This is Westler and Bronzeblood’s Guide to Smithing. There are several copies in the library. I highly suggest everyone read chapters 1 and 2. However, everyone should construct at least one tool by next week. It need not be the most complex, in fact I suggest against it. But one tool, and a solid reason why you made that one.”


CQC (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSkb0kDacjs)

Vinova

“Finley. Conrad Finley. You should pay more attention, girl, unless you’re just intending to ignore all the important things that you might see.”
His voice and expression are of equal disgust. He is slightly taller than Vinova, and is making the most of those few inches. He twists the long wooden rapier in his hands. It is fantastically well crafted, complete with detailed wooden guard, but he looks at it as if it would dirty his hand. He pauses, and draws a tactically larger circle than Vinova’s, and slightly too far from the girl’s as well.
“Come now, let’s get this over with. I didn’t come to this listen to spar with amateurs.”


Kethlan

A fingerless glove firmly shakes the outstretched one. His grip is somewhere between that of a vice and a sweaty puddle. To the more poetically inclined, his hand could be taken as a glimpse of decades of hard work and endeavour, to others it is more a reminder of the importance of regular and thorough washing. The dwarf is a sum total of about 3”8 high and the same wide. His beard is shorter than some of the other dwarves, possibly hinting that ‘since birth’ might not have been as long as he had wanted it to sound.
“Likewise, Kethlan.”
His voice is similar to his grip – gruff and earthy, more so than the average dwarf, if one can believe it. It is a voice that is as open as a wild plain – with no hint of subtext or sarcasm. He looks down at the circle surrounding the young elf, and pauses.
“Hrm.” He pauses for a moment. He stretches the hammer out in front of him, and then tries to draw a circle around him – a task considerably harder for the wide wooden maul than for Kethlan’s spry blade.
“I recken that’s about that. Not sure what all this ‘ore-ah’ business is bout. You know anything bout this, or should we just get ta swinging at each other?”

[darkbuu_1]

CQC
Derek stands, spine rigid and upright waiting for the others in his class to take their places, resting the spear on the ground head first where it effortlessly pierces into the dirt. He watches as many of his class mates step forward one by one, his excitement growing until the last figure makes themselves known, stunned into silence along with everyone else when like him, the man is able to pull a weapon from out of the air.

Could there be another Dragon Knight?! . . . His calling is different but not different enough. . . A Knight of a rival Dragon?

Distracted, he stares with obvious awe and a not as obvious tinge of jealousy at this new slick haired guy. Derek snaps back just in time catch the overall drift of what Keo is talking about, picking his spear out of the ground turning it upright and letting it drop, it starts to glow and disappears back in to the air before it hits the ground.

Inside of the weapons tent Derek walks from rack to rack trying various spears, weighing them in his hands and turning them round in his palms examining them carefully. There was something not quite right about any of them, as if they weren't properly balanced when made, or they just aren't the right length or width. He can’t quite put his finger on what it is about the wooden weapons that is throwing him off, but it is unsettling.

A couple of minutes pass and Derek traipses out of the tent with a bemused look on his face and a spear he's not entirely happy with, but it was the best he could find. After a long look around the crowded field Derek spots the girl Keo paired him with, pulling his attention from this wooden imposter he looks up to her smiling cheerfully introducing himself “Hello, I'm Derek.”, then slipping back to his weapon “How does your sword feel?” he asks as he looks over his spear, not quite realising the impact of the question out of context.

[Mazeburn]

CQC:
At the young man's retort, Vinova's smile briefly vanishes, but in a moment she redoubles it and replies sunnily, "Well, certainly, I'll ignore that for the time being. It's lovely to meet you, Conrad." Though in truth it isn't lovely at all, and while she's telling herself that it must be down to nerves that the fellow was so impolite, she's not sure she quite believes that. Thus it is with relish that she levels her sword even with his and makes her first swipe at him, a simple and relatively even thrust towards his chest.

[Lilithgow]

CQC

Derek

The girl looks slightly shocked by the question, and flushes red(der) under her freckles, before she looks down at her sword, and realises what she hopes the boy had meant by it.

“It’s a bit lighter than what I’m used to…” she blushes further, and shakes her head nervously, trying to clear her train of thought.

“That is to say that this SWORD is LIGHTER than the METAL BLADE that I was trained with previously.” She nods, content that it would suitably difficult to misinterpret this particular phrasing.

“I don’t know anything about this aura thing though. I guess it’s how far you can reach?”

She vaguely draws a circle around her with the wooden blade, slightly smaller than her full extension. Then, she then rests upon her sword, closes her eyes and mutters slightly under her breath.

If you want to try and catch what she said, a DC14 Perception check will be needed.
She raises the sword, and holds the thing in both hands in a low stance, with a far more determined expression. She takes a deep and steadying breath.

“En garde, si vous plait!”



Vinova

Vinova’s trusty stick flies true and as it does, Conrad suddenly looks shocked and awkwardly tries to block, as the wooden blade jabs him in the chest, knocking him back, more from shock than the actual blow.

“I wasn’t ready! Just some sort of cowardly sneak, are you?”

Readying himself, he lunges forwards Vinova, before swinging around and bringing the wooden weapon round into the side of the girl’s head, with all the grace of a thug swinging a bottle. Regardless, it is unnervingly effective, and far beyond the scope of friendly sparring. The blow violently knocks Vinova to the ground, leaving her to look up at the leering face of Conrad Finley.

“Ha! Not too smart now, are you girl?”


Our friend my Finley here wasn’t pulling any punches, please take 2 Non-lethal damage.

[Mazeburn]

CQC:
The hit takes her by surprise, and Vinova rolls in the dirt, scoring out half of her aura. Her head is spinning from the suddenness, and for a moment she doesn't understand what happened; how could he have been hitting so hard? She'd barely jabbed at him, and there he was trying to knock her senseless. All open-mindedness towards the skinny brat with the slick hair and slicker smile turns to fury; she stares up at him for a long moment, then hears herself speak a single word, gaze fixed on Conrad. Then a strange thing happens. The sun is high and bright, but as she speaks the shadows on Conrad's face grow jagged and dark. Suddenly, the shadows snake in towards his eyes, plunging them entirely into deepest black.

[darkbuu_1]

CQC:
Without lifting his eyes Derek responds ". . . That must be it." He continues twirling the wooden spear between his hands trying to get a feel for it "I think you might be on to something with the aura, though I think it's supposed to be the area we can defend and not just hit." Derek takes the spear in one hand and pointing it away from him rests it on the floor where he starts to draw his aura, it takes the shape of and large open half circle reaching out a little over 7ft away, taking the spear back with both hands he looks his handiwork over triumphantly "That looks good.” He pauses and readies his muscles for an attack, “Okay, I hope you're ready for this!".

Suddenly darting forward Derek lunges towards the girl, swinging the spear high overhead as it whistles through the air, the blunt end of its shaft careening on a precise path towards Hope's head.

[Drakkus]

CQC:
Kethlan experiences a twinge of regret upon retrieving his hand from what would have passed for a dog's mouth had he had his eyes closed, and he takes great care in both being extremely surreptitious about wiping his hand off on his trousers and making sure he's very thorough about it. Next time he vows to wear gloves. He retrieves his smile, however, because for all Lokrim leaves a lot to be desired in the department of his usual definitions of Pleasant and Cultured Company, or indeed Clean Company, he seems genuine enough.

"It's supposed to be your fighting reach, pretty much," he says pleasantly. "The area you can deal with around you. I'm sure Keo will cover it later; I imagine there will be many people who haven't come across it before." Though, looking down at Lokrim's scuffed circle, he has to admit he has far less idea about what a wooden warhammer bestows in terms of aura.

"Right!" he announces, and steps smoothly into a perfect salute before dropping into his ready position. "En garde!"

[QuixoticDreams]

Engineering:
Felix's head reels as words and their corresponding equipment begin to swim in and out of focus in his short term memory as he attempts to scrawl down in short hand the most important parts of her explanations. He soon finds himself behind, and with fierce determination and sweat beading on his brow, fights to catch up.

When she brings down the book, he jumps, having been looking down at his notes with intense concentration. He makes a mental snapshot of the book and its name, intending to head directly to the library in his free period and gathers up his equipment and packs it as neatly as possible into his bag. He hangs his head, standing fidgeting in the passage from the desks to the door and waits for the rest of the class to filter out. His entire body is screaming for him to leave, but his father's voice rings louder that his physical protests. He was brought up well, and with plenty of experience, knows he has to apologise for his tardiness. At lease it was just for being late, and not for blowing up the lab, but there was still time.

With that thought he gulps and slips the hand that isn't holding the bag strap on his shoulder, safely out of harms way into his pocket.

The class filters out and Felix steps forward, not intending to give excuses, but enforcing good manners. He painstakingly draws his gaze from the floor to the penetrating gaze of the halfling like one magnet force from and latched onto another, his pupils almost shaking.He wasn't sure Ms Berey was formal enough, and thought Dr. Berey or professor might be going overboard. 'I am very sorry for being late for class ma'am. I will do my best to never let it happen again.' he knows better than to promise, what with his track record.

[Notak]

CQC

Vilo grunts as he is told he cannot use his precious war axe and reintroduces it to the ground, this time hard enough that no one but him should be able to retrieve it. He strolls into the tent to retrieve a wooden axe, as he walks in he sees many people picking up different weapons and trying them out, trying to find the right balance and feel of the weapons. Vilo parts the crowd of people milling around the weapons and reaches down and grabs the biggest axe he can see. It's big enough. It'll do. He tightens his fist around the handle of the axe and, to his surprise, it does not splinter. His memories of having to transfer from the toy wooden weapons he used to play with to metal ones due to shredded palms seem a long time ago, but the feel of the wood brings them back to him.

Vilo peers down at the spitting dwarf and thrusts out a clenched fist. A fist clenched around his skin of ale.

"Vilo Kruduushon" He grunts.

Vilo had been brought up with a degree of respect for dwarves, he had been taught that dwarves could handle their ale, and that they made good ale. It may be worth befriending this spitting "girl", if you could call the axe wielding dwarf that.

Vilo peers at her right hand and arm to see the muscle tone built up in the area, he knew how your body changes when swinging around a heavy weapon for years.

Whilst waiting for her reaction to the ale, Vilo starts to consider this "Aura" business. He had been taught that defending was just as important as attacking. He had also been taught that the best defence was a good attack and, as such stretches his arm out, holding the long war axe and plants it in the ground. He then carves a semi-circular shape out of the ground and stands back from it, waiting for the dwarves reaction.

[Lilithgow]

Engineering
"Very good, Mr Flint. I’m sure you won’t be."

There is no trace of sarcasm in the acute teacher’s reply, nor does she seem angry.

“I would advise that you remember to fetch this book. I’d also advise looking for others as well.”

She quickly produces a notepad, and quickly makes an immaculate note.

Please extend Mr Flint’s loan period for his engineering books.
Samantha Berey.

“I’m sure this will help. I would run along now, lest you are late for another class, Mr Flint.”

With that, she turns and heads into a smaller office at the back of the workshop.


CQC

Derek

The blow flies true, and catches the girl in the side of the head, knocking her off balance and sends her sword flying out of her hands. To all viewing it is extremely apparent that while not with intent to injure, that blow we most definitely leave a bruise of considerable size.

Hope grabs the side of her head, visibly wincing at the stinging blow. Undeterred, she reaches out for her wooden sword and rises with a slash that ducks under the spear’s reach and catches Derek in the chest, firmly pressing across his jacket.

Her left eye still clenched from the pain, Hope stands ready once more, breathing far more heavily, with a look of renewed if pained determination.
13+2+1 = 16 vs AC of 13


Kethlan

The dwarf looks slightly lost by the routine of the elf, and uncertainly mutters an impersonation of Kethlan’s phrase back to him.

“On gurd?”

With that, the dwarf steps straight out of his circle and with a speed that seems to be a surprise to both parties, swings the large maul towards the elf. The blow is unnervingly quick, and far too fast for any level of control.
It flies wide shocking the dwarf at the speed of his whiffed blow.

“By Thrun, sorry Keth, I didn’t realise this thing was so light! I didn’t actually hit ya, did I?”
3+3+1 = 7 vs AC of 12


Vilo

Lifa grabs the skin, and takes a mighty swig.

“Lifa Hammerblow. Let’s have a good scrap.”

She looks down at the semi-circle that Vilo stands in with a mystified look.

“I don’t have much idea bout this aura stuff. Let’s see how much you know!”

With that, Lifa lunges forwards, swinging first with her fist, and then following up with an axe that is narrowly blocked by Vilo’s own.
8+4+1 = 13 vs AC 14
“Not bad, greenskin! Might be a good scrap after all!”

[darkbuu_1]

CQC
Shock floods Derek's face as Hope stumbles back from his opening attack, trying to start an apology Hope is already half way through her swing, with just enough time to block Derek raises his spear to intercept the attack.

Her sword undercuts Derek's defences, pain tinges in his chest but the feeling is quickly shunned, glad that he hadn't knocked her unconscious with one blow, and that she was able to give back as good as she got.

Derek jabs with his spear trying to contain Hopes movement but it flies wider than he intended, he sweeps the hilt round for a follow up attack but it almost seems to pull away leaving Hope space to dodge.

[QuixoticDreams]

Engineering:
Felix raises his eyes from the floor, lulled into safety by the business-like tone free of the disgust, hopelessness and contempt those that know him at length often grow to use. His eyes watch as she produces the notepad and tears the top page from it. His heart drops as he skims the note, the proof that already his first teacher believes him to be the sort that would not return library books on time.

Not that he was, of course, the sort to return library books on time. But still.

Before the disappointment can register between them however, she turns and walks to the back of the classroom towards her workspace.

'Thank you ma'am.' Felix utters in a small voice, barely audible. Though there is no doubt in his mind that she heard him, she was the sort to have eyes in the back of her head and ears affixed to walls all around the castle. Maybe she was just making sure he had a heads up over the others, and needing engineering books past their borrowing date was common, she was just insuring he had the best chance at excelling. That's plausible right?

A little flame of self esteem seems to kindle in Felix's chest as he turns and walks from the room, staring at the note clutched in his hand. He heads directly to the library to find the book she had shown the class, and any others of consequence to do with engineering and tools that he can spend his lunch and following free periods perusing.

[Lilithgow]

CQC

Derek

Derek’s first blow flies wide, giving Hope all the time she needs to dodge the second. Pressing her advantage, she steps closer into Derek’s aura, her wooden sword swinging at her opponent.
The first swing flies far to his side, but refined from this, she brings her wooden blade down into the boy, with a resounding impact, so much so that she loses her grip on the weapon which continues on its arc, and lands several metres to the right.
The blow was a solid and most resounding success, but the glaring failure of the end of the swing shows in young Hope’s face. She flushes red, and looks distraught at her mistake. On reflection, her technique is a mystery. It’s accuracy and form for outweighs it’s execution – like an amateur recreating some superior work - with mixed results.
“Oh no! I’m really sorry, I’m sorry! I was just trying to…” cries the girl, and falls to her knees, covering her face in her obvious despair.

4+1 = 5 vs AC 13 - Miss
18+1+1 = 20 vs AC 13 – Hit



Engineering…and BEYOND

The library is a grand experience – three floors of endless corridors stretch out for a what seems forever
Forged out of deep wood, the library is a striking experience. Huge shelves of book, taller than any man rise above Felix as he enters the chamber. The galleried room stretches up to three floors, each one holding its priceless tomes. It is an overwhelming experience, a feeling that a thousand authors and a million words look down upon you. There are large benches placed around, for those who would rest with these words.
There are huge signs on the side of shelves, decreeing topics that they hold – from Architecture to Zoology; it seems that if one wandered long enough, and with enough luck that no information was out of reach (thanks to the large ladders).
There is no apparent check-out, nor information desk as one might expect. In fact, after but a single minutes wandering there is no apparent exit either.

The Library is a vast building, with three floors, each about 15ft high, with book shelves reaching the ceiling on each floor. These shelves hold literally hundreds of thousands of books, making any search an effort of some note.
If you want to attempt finding your book, please roll a Perception Check, DC 18. This check takes half an hour, and for each extra half an hour, you can add 2 to this roll (so if you get a 14, you can spend an extra hour looking to find your book.)
As for withdrawing a book…well, I’ll leave that up to you!

[Drakkus]

CQC
Kethlan manages to dodge the enormous hammer as it whistles past his nose, and curses mentally, twice: once for nearly getting hit before the fight has even begun, and once for already underestimating an opponent. This will not do. But he smiles, and flicks a dislodged lock of hair back over his shoulder. The hammer had missed, at least; it seems that his esteemed opponent is used to weapons made of heavier stuff than wood, and had inadvertently turned a bone-crushing heave into a nose-skinning fling.

"Oh no, I'm fine," he says lightly, and manages not to wince at the nickname. "This is rather my area, after all." And with that he feints and lunges unerringly foward with his wooden rapier, ready to leap away afterwards.

[Notak]

CQC

Vilo grins as the axe swings wide. He waists no time in hefting the huge axe up and swings it at the dwarf. It is a rough blow, he would have been scolded for it had his father seen him, the axe head arcs in a predictable curve, just catching the dwarf with it's wooden edge.

Vilo is impressed, he's never seen something so small that can avoid the largest part of his attack.

[Lilithgow]

CQC

Vilo

Vilo's axe thumps into the dwarf's shoulder with a resounding thud - while just a hit, the blow would easily have staggered a less hardy adversary.

Lifa seems undeterred by such an attack, however, and makes the most of her size, swinging low and fast at the towering Orc.

Trip Attack -
13+4+1 = 18 vs AC 14
Make a Reflex save of 14 or higher to avoid falling Prone.



Kethlan

As the elf leaps nimbly backwards, Lokrim steadies himself, looking slightly unnerved by this act of athletic ability. He holds the hammer firmly, knuckles turning white under the pressure of his grip.

"On Gurd."


Everyone

With a sudden flash of movement, Keo darts between Vinova and Conrad, his wooden blade moving in a swift downwards movement, sending Conrad's rapier out of his hand and into the ground, with another flick of his arm, he points the prone Vinova's blade down to the soil.

"Hold fast, everyone."

The voice is steady but imposing. It demands attention, and several of the less experienced students drop their weapons in surprise. A sense of pressure seems to emanate from his words.

"There will be no fighting here. This is combat, not war.

The dark patch of shadows move away from Conrad's eyes, returning to their rightful places, leaving a look of fury behind shock. The white haired youth is smart enough to hold his tounge, though with the sudden action of being disarmed, it is debateable if he could have had he wanted.

Delicately, Keo withdraws his blade from Vinova's own, his expression returning to a familiar, measured one.

"Everyone should pay close attention to this, for there are valuable lessons to be learnt here. Come a fight, your foes will not fight fair, nor will they follow the rules that we abide by here."

He suddenly glances to the floored girl directly, looking her steadily in the eye for a moment, before returning to the rest of the class.

"We must not lower ourselves to their level. You are to be heroes, and you will act accordingly. To loose control in a fight is to lose the fight."

He sheathes his sword, and offers a hand to Vinova, continuing his lesson as he does so.

"Now, auras. Those who have drawn non-circular ones are far closer to success, I think! An aura is your reach and your defence as well. It must account for your movement, and the situation you find yourself in. It is as changeable as the wind, and it will take decades for you to be able to accurately draw your own. But I advise you to always consider it! Always look, and always judge your own ability. You will be a greater fighter for it."

Having lifted the girl from the ground, he turns to her and Conrad directly.

"Now, I shall be finding you new partners for sparring, I think! Haha. Conrad, you will spar with Tami, and Vinova, you will spar with Skar.

He turns, and calls the two students over from their own sparring. A young white haired girl, and heavily scarred orc male come over to them.

"If you could please continue with new partners, we can continue. Tami, your form is a little weak in your left strikes. You overthink the movement. If you rely more on the flow of your actions, I am sure that you will see an improvement in their accuracy. Skar, I would attempt to tell you that you are being to aggressive in your strikes, but I know better than to try and tell a Dein-Tal to hold back. Haha! But yes, you follow through too far, as though you seek to cleave the ground."

As he speaks, he moves to each student, adjusting their arm, and surreptitiously moving Vinova and Conrad apart from each other.

"Now, as you were."

And with that, Keo heads off, once again walking among the various groups of slightly confused students, stopping to watch a quick exchange, before offering a small piece of advice or moving on.

The lesson continues without and major incident, and Keo eventually calls time, before retrieving the wooden instruments, and sending everyone on their way to their next lessons.

[Mazeburn]

CQC:
As Keo pulls her up, Vinova does her best to blink away the tears - mostly, though not entirely, from the shock of the blow Conrad had given her. She had been expecting Keo to shout at her, to throw her out of the class - not pick her up and give her a mild ticking-off. She's grateful for that, but feel all the more guilty because of it, and makes a very stern mental note not to let him down again. It had all happened so fast she could barely account for it, but the next thing she knows she's stood face to face with Skar, or at least face to chest, since he's a head taller than her. She redraws her aura, this time a sort of shaky oval, throws the orc something like a brave smile, and they recommence the fight.

The rest of the lesson goes more or less without further incident, though Vinova finds herself so distracted she barely blocks more than a handful of the great orc's cleaving blows. Intermittently, she keeps glancing over towards Conrad, and once or twice she's sure she detects a look of disgust back. By the time the lesson ends, she's covered in bruises in nearly every shape and size - though she's glad to note her opponent has a few as well.

As Vinova sheaths away her little stick-sword, she glances around at the rest of the pupils, seeing the rest of her group in and among. For a moment she thinks about going over to them, but she's sure that everyone saw the little true-naming incident and doesn't feel quite up to explaining it for the moment. So instead, she turns and slips away towards the library for - what she hopes - will be a bit of peace and quiet.

[Drakkus]

CQC
Kethlan stares with the rest of the assembled students as black shadows retreat from Conrad's eyes, but he's only partly creeped out; a large portion of his attention is reserved for wondering at the girl. First she gives but a single name; next she...well, she hadn't overtly been at fault for him saying something and then immediately forgetting it, but it's not something he'd ever done before; and now this. Certainly the wooden-sword-bearing girl is more complex than he expected, which is to say at all, and it is of course his duty as a diligent student of Unity to poke his nose into this. Right now, though, it has to wait. Indirect praise is coming his way in the form of acknowledgement of the well-drawn auras, and he smiles modestly because there's far more expertise where that came from.

The rest of the lesson is uneventful; he and Lokrim lead each other a merry dance involving solid swings and blocks from Lokrim and a fair bit of light footwork and quick jabs from Kethlan. When it ends, he bows to his dancing partner in lieu of risking that handshake unprotected, and glances around - but Vinova has already made herself scarce. No matter, time is something he has quite a bit of for the foreseeable. Figuratively speaking that is, because chasing her now would mean a) looking a little desperate, frankly, and b) being late for gym, and neither of those would do.

[darkbuu_1]

CQC
The sudden commotion catches the entire class’ attention, Derek turns to look along with everyone else at the downed Vinova as her opponent, Conrad, doubles over in mild fear. As much as Derek knows he should himself be fearful, there is something exciting about a display of supernatural powers, and fear and reason aside he can’t believe he missed it! Without enough time to figure out what actually happened, Keo urges the class to get back onto their schedule. Before even a minute passes Derek is unable to keep his thoughts to himself any longer. “Do you have any idea what happened?” he blurts out, aiming his query towards Hope, not that he would mind if someone just popped out of nowhere to explain it.

The rest of the lesson seems to pass quite uneventfully, or at least when compared to what happened at the start. Unlike the rest of the fights Derek has been in, it's almost as if there is something missing from this sparring session. Something is stopping him from just ‘feeling’ the fight in his usual way. Putting this down worry about Vinova, he tries to shrug it off and continues attempting to spar with Hope, but he is very distracted. Time seems to drag on, unable to shake this unknown feeling Derek longs for the chance to talk to Vinova and make sure that she is alright.

The class finally comes to a close, “It was nice meeting you Hope, and you’re a really good fighter.” Derek utters with a smile as he holds out his hand to shake hers. Relinquishing her hand he pulls out his crumpled timetable “I'll see you. . . “ he trails off, scanning the paper “. . . Thursday is when we have Close Quarters again, but I have gym now.”.