Recent content by Pomrick Bloomsfield

Pomrick followed in his wake and observed the stone sculpture with Lysander. Just as he was about to comment on the hero's clearly lacking wealth when all he had was a fig leaf for clothing, he was saved from revealing his ignorance of art when the young man suggested a different course of...

Pomrick shifted uncomfortably, though he tried to keep a stoic face. When Vaeshazar left them, he immediately relaxed more. A breath escaped him, as if he had held his breath throughout his performance. He turned to Nilamani, then glanced at the piece of art in question. "Well, uh, yeah. I...

Pomrick hunched up his shoulders at Lysander's chastisement. He stuck his hands into a pair of massive pockets in his borrowed robe, trying not to look like a sulking child - and failing. He got momentarily distracted as two, horned figures drifted by, snickering and chatting to themselves. A...

Combat. With magic? His heart sank like a storm-wrecked ship at the mention of 'mandatory.' No escape then. Elbion College simply kept pouring one, unwelcome surprise after another over him, like buckets of ice-cold water, waking him up to reality. A reality that Vaeshazar alluded to with...

Still dumbfounded, Pomrick was unable to make much of a coherent response. Could this be the same Nilamani that he had talked to on a few occasions? One of the few in the College he could have a regular conversation with, now turned into . . . half a snake? Some dim memory from a distant...

Pomrick turned at the familiar, gently sibilant tones of Nilamani, like autumn leaves blowing over damp undergrowth. His smile increased and he began to speak: "Ah, g--" But when he spotted her, the rest of his greeting died. His jaw dangled slack, and he could all but stare at her serpentine...

A shudder went through Pomrick, before his back straightened like it had heard the crack of an invisible whip. "Arcane negation, abjuration and magic transmutation techniques, with a speciality in ethereal transfusion of evoked elements." The words snapped out of him like he was possessed...

Pomrick's half open mouth moved as if to remember it could utter words. He couldn't for the life of him figure out if he had just received a compliment, an insult or a detached observation. Perhaps all three. Still, he grinned boyishly, appreciating the faint, crooked smile he had earned. He...

Pomrick filed in with a gaggle of other students. He was swathed in an awkward-looking, ill-fitting navy robe like a hand tucked into a oversized glove, unable to reach the fingers. The sleeves swallowed his arms. The collar devoured his chin. The ends dragged after him on the floor, causing...

Pomrick squirmed uncomfortably. He didn't like comparing his family's traditions with the cryptic magic taught at the College. His childhood memories seemed almost sacred, a precious and fragile looking glass that could be shattered any moment. He brushed off crumbs from his scarf. "Yes, they...

"That so? Well, maybe you should try sleeping with your feet on a pillow. Ma always said that helped her." He chewed a little more on the scone, unused to the overpowering taste of sugar and flour. Truth be told, he rarely found it difficult to fall asleep himself. Staying awake usually seemed...

"Thank you." Pomrick gratefully took a scone, munching on it with a quick glance around them. "Oh, no, it's fine, really," he warbled in between chewing his scone, mouth almost full. A swallow and he could speak more clearly. "Simply a cold, I'm sure." He peered at his fellow student, noting...

Pomrick looked at the scone and felt his stomach rumble, urging him to accept Nilamani's invitation. "Heh, eh, well, no, not exactly." At least, he didn't think it was a new trend at the college. Was it? He opted for the safer excuse. "I'm simply a little, uh, sick." His legs soon followed...

Pomrick's feet were dragging after him as he trudged into the dining area. He now carried another token from his master's experiments - a blue nose. And not even slightly blue or faintly discoloured, but a deep navy blue, spreading with ghastly veins below his skin towards his cheeks. Still...

Pomrick twisted and glanced up at Nilamani, their long, prismatic locks baiting his attention. "Oh, hello, Nilamani. Eh, well, no, not yet, I think . . ." The girl had just arranged her choice items, flashing a quick, acknowledging smile at Nilamani and their compliment, before her brow...