J
James Lanvarok
The clouds parted to reveal the Spires of the Elbion college at the end of the city. Looking up, James gasped in awe, a mound of happiness rising in his chest. He was finally home. At least, he felt home, in comparison to the years he had spent in the Dreadlord academy. Brow creased, he brushed matted hair out of his eyes and walked forward, his crossbow on his back. White limestone made up the college, it's walls illuminated by the afternoon sun as it set behind the city.
James huffed. He was filthy and exhausted after the journey, and was in desperate need of a bath and a lie down. Leaving the gate behind him, he walked down the front path and passed other young mages as they sat together and studied. He looked away, nervously avoiding their gazes. Once he got to the front door, a young man, who appeared to be around his age or a little older, greeted him. Raising a hand, James scratched his head as he beheld him, unsure of what to say.
"That must be Ezra," James thought to himself. He remembered the name from the letter the archmages had sent him.
"Hey uh, I'm the new student the archmages are expecting," he mumbled. "They got my letter." He said no more. Words had never come naturally to James. He slurred and mumbled most of the time, and hoped it wouldn't affect his education.
Reaching into his cloak, he pulled of what appeared to have been a scroll, but it had been sat on more than a few times. He handed it to Ezra. Inside, he would find a letter from an arch mage at college stating that James had met the necessary requirements and there was a place for him. Bottom lip hanging open, he shifted his eyes awkwardly and scratched beneath his chin, a light stubble burgeoning on his cheeks. He threw his hand down, directed his eyes towards the sky and scratched his backside, anxiously waiting for the young man to read the letter.
The letter read. James still wasn't sure what the archmages meant by "procedures". Interrogation maybe? An interview to make sure he wasn't a spy or had bad intentions.
Either way, it made him nervous.
Shrinking into the collar of his cloak, he kicked the stone path with his foot and clasped his hands behind his back.
"I'm an empath, so I siphon a lot of bad emotions and it drives me crazy, I don't know how to control it properly," he mumbled, looking at the ground. Even now, he was drawing a sense of calm from the students around him, which was partially why he wasn't freaking his shit.
"But I'm also good with fire and air," he perked up.
He raised an eyebrow with the statement. The college had recently been attacked by a rogue pyromancer who used to be a Professor there, so they had been grateful to have a battle mage who could potentially aid in protecting the college. Raising a hand, he scratched his nose to hide the fact that he was looking at Ezra. His eyes were very wide and sometimes looked frightening, so he tried not to look at people while speaking to them.
He slumped his shoulders and sighed, "I'm so tired."
James huffed. He was filthy and exhausted after the journey, and was in desperate need of a bath and a lie down. Leaving the gate behind him, he walked down the front path and passed other young mages as they sat together and studied. He looked away, nervously avoiding their gazes. Once he got to the front door, a young man, who appeared to be around his age or a little older, greeted him. Raising a hand, James scratched his head as he beheld him, unsure of what to say.
"That must be Ezra," James thought to himself. He remembered the name from the letter the archmages had sent him.
"Hey uh, I'm the new student the archmages are expecting," he mumbled. "They got my letter." He said no more. Words had never come naturally to James. He slurred and mumbled most of the time, and hoped it wouldn't affect his education.
Reaching into his cloak, he pulled of what appeared to have been a scroll, but it had been sat on more than a few times. He handed it to Ezra. Inside, he would find a letter from an arch mage at college stating that James had met the necessary requirements and there was a place for him. Bottom lip hanging open, he shifted his eyes awkwardly and scratched beneath his chin, a light stubble burgeoning on his cheeks. He threw his hand down, directed his eyes towards the sky and scratched his backside, anxiously waiting for the young man to read the letter.
"James Thomas Lanvarok of Vel Anir,
You will be pleased to know that your experience as a dreadlord is enough to grant you a place at our college, however, procedures need to be taken to ensure that you are trustworthy and won't break any rules.
There is a place for you in a dormitory occupied by a student named Ezra Archiva. Give this letter to him and he will show you to where you are to live.
Kindest regards, the archmages of the College of Elbion."
You will be pleased to know that your experience as a dreadlord is enough to grant you a place at our college, however, procedures need to be taken to ensure that you are trustworthy and won't break any rules.
There is a place for you in a dormitory occupied by a student named Ezra Archiva. Give this letter to him and he will show you to where you are to live.
Kindest regards, the archmages of the College of Elbion."
The letter read. James still wasn't sure what the archmages meant by "procedures". Interrogation maybe? An interview to make sure he wasn't a spy or had bad intentions.
Either way, it made him nervous.
Shrinking into the collar of his cloak, he kicked the stone path with his foot and clasped his hands behind his back.
"I'm an empath, so I siphon a lot of bad emotions and it drives me crazy, I don't know how to control it properly," he mumbled, looking at the ground. Even now, he was drawing a sense of calm from the students around him, which was partially why he wasn't freaking his shit.
"But I'm also good with fire and air," he perked up.
He raised an eyebrow with the statement. The college had recently been attacked by a rogue pyromancer who used to be a Professor there, so they had been grateful to have a battle mage who could potentially aid in protecting the college. Raising a hand, he scratched his nose to hide the fact that he was looking at Ezra. His eyes were very wide and sometimes looked frightening, so he tried not to look at people while speaking to them.
He slumped his shoulders and sighed, "I'm so tired."
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