Open Chronicles Adeptus - College of Mages

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Urberus

The Alchemist
Elbion College
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"Where's your master, gutterrat?" sneered a porkish lad, whose pink skin glowed from overfeeding at his mercantile father's table. "Finally realize you can't r-r-read?" He said, in cruel imitation of the halting way in which Galen had read aloud during the first few months of class.

In response, the apprentice mage only gave him a hot glower from nut-brown eyes as he went to take his seat in the circle of chairs, beside Dante di Inverno. The chairs were drawn up in a circle, because the instructors insisted it enhanced learning. Galen thought it only made it easier for everyone to stare at him, like a misfit. Like he didn't belong.

And maybe he did not.

Telemachus had left him. Told him he was too useless to train. That he would be better off pursuing some other profession that "did not require reading as a primary prerequisite."

The young man sighed, head bowed forward, long dark hair spilling across the front of his face to hide his eyes. Inwardly, he prepared himself for another derision filled day, still determined despite it all to prove that he belonged here.
 
Vance sat in the circle, despite the less traditional source of his powers he still enjoyed listening to the lessons at the college and while most of the students regarded him with fear or disgust, his eligibility was finally unquestionable so he listened enraptured, a slight smirk drawing the corners of his lips upwards. He looked over and saw another student, maybe Galen was his name? In any case he didn't seem to be well received by the other scholars at the college and that made Vance feel pity towards the man. "You know, reading isn't the only way to gain power... Don't be discouraged" Vance chuckled inwardly to himself with a straight face
 
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As Galen took his seat, a voice frosted with malice cut through the students' derisive chuckles.

"Really, Cantris, you would think the son of a merchant would be more clever in his insults. After all, your father claims he could charm the oats from an ass."

Dante paused then, as if considering the merchant's assertion.

"Perhaps he was simply referring to his luck in bedding the baseborn peasant you call mother. Or maybe you inherited all of his corpulence and none of his wit."

The blond aristocrat smirked, training eyes like shards of ice on the boy.

"Which would you say it is, Cantris?"

Vance Winters
 
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Marius Alva Decimus walked into the classroom. He was a veteran scholar of the college and occasionally attended lectures, both to see how the next generation of graduates looked and to offer his own wisdom to the class. Marius walked into the center of the room and faced the circle of students, a few of them facing him sat up straighter and his booming voice announced his presence.

"Hello students. My name is Marius Alva Decimus and I am a scholar here at the college. I recognize some of you from other lectures and the campus, but most of you are new faces. I will be attending the lecture today and offering any advice where I can. I specialize in discovering artifacts and ancient texts. If you have any questions about that field, feel free to ask."

With that said, Marius walked to the back of the classroom and grabbed a spare chair and took a seat. He then waited for the professor to arrive. As he waited, he dug through his backpack which was on the floor and pulled out a book entitled 'Baal-Asha River: History and Geography'. He flipped to a page in the book and began casually reading.
 
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Cantris' pink face turned a shade of mottled red. Galen's lips quirked in a smirk. Di Inverno tended to use his cutting remarks on anyone and everyone, earning him few friends among the thin-skinned apprentices. Galen was often the butt of his jokes, but unlike with Cantris there was something less than personal about the way Dante slung his barbs. Always so cold, even his laughter. Like the bakery's chimes in winter.

Others entered the room, then the instructor: a severe-looking man in dark robes, with a black moustache peppered with gray. Dark eyes took in the room.

"Welcome to our guests and returning students," he drawled without feeling, as if the very act of speaking were taking time away from more important matters to which he had to attend.

"Today we will continue to cover the basics of magic, its sources, and its various forms of practice and practicioners throughout Arethil. We begin with an example, the warding spell. Open your scrolls."
 
Demyra blinked from her seat, looking up in a daze. She had no idea what the hell was going on because she had zoned out staring at her scroll. She shook her head, refocusing enough to realize what she had been told to do. She ran her slender fingers over the scrolls surface, toying with the rings around each of her fingers. They currently didnt have spells attached to them, but she kept them on her person at all times.

When her head shot up, her thick red hair would bounce a bit in place, moving on its own and semi frizzing due to the presence of magic in the air. She hated that her body had this effect in the presence of magic, but it was a decent indicator. She looked at the instructor, trying to make sure she didnt get lost again.

The corners of her eyes picked up the other beings around her, hoping that she would get to meet them when the instruction wasnt going on. She did enjoy the social aspect of a school such as this one.
 
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Vance rolls his eyes and ignores the instruction, instead opening his grimoire. Shadows seem to stretch and grow and the light waivers, a runic red eye on the front of the grimoire glows and harsh, rasping cackling can be heard at the edge of hearing. "I don't do wards old man" Vance laughs, his hair fading to white and his irises as red as pooling blood. He looks around and smirks then his head twitches back with enough force to click his neck then the changes reverse and Vance sits back down silently whispering something about control