Fable - Ask Shapecraft (Elbion College)

Aiko announced her presence to the rest of the class with a rhythmic thock as her wooden sandals made contact with the floor. As she entered the classroom a glance around the room confirmed her suspicions. The classmates who had arrived so far seemed immeasurably boring. Still, the daughter of an Allirian merchant knew how to judge the wealth of a man by the quality of his buttons, coat, or tie, and she had made more than one observation as such. Picking the least dull of marks the thocking of her shoes continued as she made her way to the table occupied by Calixtus .

Upon arriving to the table she noticed the inkwell and allowed herself the slightest of grins. She put her bag in the cleanest, most out of the way spot she could find and extracted her notebook, along with a smaller, thin leather bag. She opened the flap at the top to reveal a series of organized brushes. Calligraphy was a hobby that might pay dividends in the next hour. There was a moment of thought before she selected the third from the right, a middling brush leaning slightly towards a finer touch. She held with grace, awaiting the instructing Maester. Her eyes drifted to Calixtus . She permitted herself a moment to trace over his features and clothing, an attempt to size him up. He resembled the suits her father dealt with more than the tattooed. She wondered if Elbion held any similarities to Alliria.

“Have you managed to find a syllabus for this course? I could never get anyone to confirm if this is more alchemical or metallurgical.”

There was hardly even the rustle of silks as Yue entered. After a glance about, the decision of where to sit was an obvious choice.
The two she had deemed most interesting from the convocation were conveniently seated together.
One which she felt obligated to keep an eye on, the other a beacon of curiosities.
She took up a seat at the table on the other side of the elf. Her gaze was on her own notebook as she set it down. Out of the corner of her eye she quietly followed as the other girl set up her station. The hold on the brush was experienced. She wondered if the elf also made use of talismans and runic magic. The practice didn't seem to be as popular in Elbion. Perhaps because the sigils were difficult to draw. It was an art that took patience.

Yue quietly listened with one ear as the other girl made conversation with Calixtus. If she remembered correctly wasn't this class also taught by a Blodwyn? He would know then perhaps. Though given the appearance of some of the maesters at the convocation.....they would be lucky if all of the classes can with a syllabus....some of them seemed to have a dubious temperament. The type to have arbitrary tests and exams.

Yue withdrew an ordinary quill and set it beside the notebook. She kept the tools she used for writing talismans and sigils back in her dorm, deeming them too precious for class notes.

It was not his true lesson to teach, but Emris had been asked to take up teaching this fundamental class to the first years. The powers that be deemed him to be patient enough, that all his classes in Enchantments and Cursebreaking had come with many high praises from his students. He had been a student over a decade ago, and with a name as prestigious as Blodwyn, Emris excelled in his education.

He had only accepted the position to teach this class to first years in order to keep an eye on his younger brother's efforts, if Cal had in fact listened to his instructions in private before his enrolment, and not their troublesome sister's.

There was a reason why she had not been invited to learn at the College.

His eyes fell onto the rows of desks, and the students settling into every seat.

"Morning, students." He greeted a few paces from the office he had been cooped up since dawn. "I am pleased to see you all got here without getting lost. The Compasses are a great tool in your first year, I suggest you do not lose them."

The odd thing about Professor Blodwyn was that although he did not offer a smile, his eyes conveyed that he was being pleasant. His brows were in a perpetual studious furrow, one that deepened when his gaze fell upon his younger brother.

Emris had every expectation of him, most of all.