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Open Chronicles The Schools of Magic[Elbion & Vel Anir]
- Thread starter Talus
- Start date
A roleplay open for anyone to join
Hal considered Talus' words, then shrugged his own thoughts aside.
"At least partaking in a contest of arithmetic would not result in a visit to Leon, eh?" He slapped a cold hand against Talus' back, who was searching the board for his name.
The banter between Sierra and Luther gained his attention. He turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at the two. He rarely sent verbal jabs at Luther, but he woke up oddly spirited.
"Perhaps the thoughts of asses will be so prominent in Luther's mind, we may witness him lose his bouts. What a sight that would be," He said, fantasizing how such a scenario would unfold.
"At least partaking in a contest of arithmetic would not result in a visit to Leon, eh?" He slapped a cold hand against Talus' back, who was searching the board for his name.
The banter between Sierra and Luther gained his attention. He turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at the two. He rarely sent verbal jabs at Luther, but he woke up oddly spirited.
"Perhaps the thoughts of asses will be so prominent in Luther's mind, we may witness him lose his bouts. What a sight that would be," He said, fantasizing how such a scenario would unfold.
"I don't think Leon is here." Talus commented so absent of mind that it was clear he didn't even register Hal's joke. His attention was instead entirely on the board in front of him.
They had taught him how to read and write at the Academy, but in all truth he was not really good at it. Unlike some of the others he couldn't speed read or anything like that, so going over every name and event took him a few moments.
Finally though he spotted his name.
"Ah ha!" He sounded proud of himself. "There we are, Talus Morid versus Kara Orin."
His finger pressed on the line and then he traced it over on the parchment. "Golem Fights."
A frown touched his lips. He wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but it had the word 'fight' in it so he fiured that was a pretty good sign for himself. Turning away from the board he glanced towards the other Dreadlord Apprentices.
"Stop flirting and lets go." The tournament grounds were right around the corner.
They had taught him how to read and write at the Academy, but in all truth he was not really good at it. Unlike some of the others he couldn't speed read or anything like that, so going over every name and event took him a few moments.
Finally though he spotted his name.
"Ah ha!" He sounded proud of himself. "There we are, Talus Morid versus Kara Orin."
His finger pressed on the line and then he traced it over on the parchment. "Golem Fights."
A frown touched his lips. He wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but it had the word 'fight' in it so he fiured that was a pretty good sign for himself. Turning away from the board he glanced towards the other Dreadlord Apprentices.
"Stop flirting and lets go." The tournament grounds were right around the corner.
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- 250
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Selina bounced over to the dwarf excitedly, "Yes, I have entered the contest! You should be able to recognize how valuable it is to be able to practice casting spells outside of a controlled environment. I have my spells memorized and I've even prepared some disposable spell scrolls using runes that you taught us!"
She had worked hard in preparation for this event. She hadn't labored to come up with new spells, but rather has taken this opportunity to finally practice the spells she already knows well. But being young and a wizard was never a sign of true power or mastery of her craft. The reason most wizards are only known as old and grey is because they spent their whole lives in research and mastering the arcane in all of its aspects, it takes centuries for a wizard to fully come into his own. In comparison, she hadn't begun to even scratch the surface of her chosen craft, but if anything she was dedicated.
She walked beside the dwarf professor as she talked. She really was a chatterbox, especially about magic. Which is why she enjoyed the company of her teachers because she knew them to be at least as interested in her progress as a student if not on the subjects themselves.
"The throwaway scrolls is an idea I got from Lady Alexis Armon. She really knows a lot about magic, I can never figure out if she's a mage, a sorcerer, a wizard, or an alchemist. But she certainly knows a lot of tricks. But I think the simple scrolls are a quick and easy way to cast spells even when you're magic is about run dry. I have some surprises that I really want to test out today with those spells and see if they really work outside of a spell circle."
By this point she was talking about a mile a minute while they walked, meandering their way around the camp if Sigfrith Runecarver would allow himself to be caught up in her path and jabbering, she would allow him to give input whenever he found a break in her rambling.
Then she switched subjects.
*gasp*, "... Have you seen that griffon that landed in the camp? I've never seen one before. What do you know about them? Are they intelligent? What's it doing here? Can I go up and pet it?"
She had worked hard in preparation for this event. She hadn't labored to come up with new spells, but rather has taken this opportunity to finally practice the spells she already knows well. But being young and a wizard was never a sign of true power or mastery of her craft. The reason most wizards are only known as old and grey is because they spent their whole lives in research and mastering the arcane in all of its aspects, it takes centuries for a wizard to fully come into his own. In comparison, she hadn't begun to even scratch the surface of her chosen craft, but if anything she was dedicated.
She walked beside the dwarf professor as she talked. She really was a chatterbox, especially about magic. Which is why she enjoyed the company of her teachers because she knew them to be at least as interested in her progress as a student if not on the subjects themselves.
"The throwaway scrolls is an idea I got from Lady Alexis Armon. She really knows a lot about magic, I can never figure out if she's a mage, a sorcerer, a wizard, or an alchemist. But she certainly knows a lot of tricks. But I think the simple scrolls are a quick and easy way to cast spells even when you're magic is about run dry. I have some surprises that I really want to test out today with those spells and see if they really work outside of a spell circle."
By this point she was talking about a mile a minute while they walked, meandering their way around the camp if Sigfrith Runecarver would allow himself to be caught up in her path and jabbering, she would allow him to give input whenever he found a break in her rambling.
Then she switched subjects.
*gasp*, "... Have you seen that griffon that landed in the camp? I've never seen one before. What do you know about them? Are they intelligent? What's it doing here? Can I go up and pet it?"
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Sigfrith Runecarver
Elbion College
- Messages
- 65
- Character Biography
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“Hrmm,” Sigfrith said as he listened to the girl speak. Or young woman, perhaps. He was never quite sure with humans. They loved such short lives that they were middle aged before a similarly aged Dwarf child was fully mature. Certainly before they would be allowed to go out from the clan alone.
Consternation grew in his face as she spoke and it turned to worry. He held his tongue and listened, however, only stopping abruptly when she ashes off she could pet the griffin.
“Pet... the griffin?” He sputtered in surprise, but caught his tone and shook his head. “Only if she permits it. I cannot speak for griffons as a whole, for she is a special one. And as for why, I am sure she has reasons of her own.”
He stopped and looked up at her. “Have you ever dueled with magic before? This is not a training exercise to learn new spells. Your plans and tactics are sound. Your scrolls are a clever idea and should be of use, but—“
He pauses for emphasis and tapped the axe at his side. “Dueling with magic is like fighting with blades weapons. No one is intended to fight with lethal means. However, I was speaking with those I believe were the Dreadlord apprentices. They fully believe themselves capable of killing all of you easily and without trouble, indeed they speak as it is what they are meant to do. One at least certainly seems disappointed that he is not permitted to kill.”
He stopped again, letting the words sink in. Hopefully some of them were getting through. Human beardless ones were just as stubborn and confident as young Dwarves. And, he realized with a chill, far less durable than young Dwarves.
“And yes, you are correct. It is crucial to practice magic in non-controlled contexts. But realize these competitors you face against are trained to view and use magic as a weapon. If they were Maesters in their own right, there would be no concern, for they would have the control necessary. But they are not. They are apprentices still lacking both the wisdom and restraint to fully control power.”
It was one of the longest speeches he had ever given. Even his lectures rarely had him speaking so long, not so earnestly.
“Compete with wisdom and with caution. Never reveal all your tricks and always have one of your strongest held in reserve.”
Consternation grew in his face as she spoke and it turned to worry. He held his tongue and listened, however, only stopping abruptly when she ashes off she could pet the griffin.
“Pet... the griffin?” He sputtered in surprise, but caught his tone and shook his head. “Only if she permits it. I cannot speak for griffons as a whole, for she is a special one. And as for why, I am sure she has reasons of her own.”
He stopped and looked up at her. “Have you ever dueled with magic before? This is not a training exercise to learn new spells. Your plans and tactics are sound. Your scrolls are a clever idea and should be of use, but—“
He pauses for emphasis and tapped the axe at his side. “Dueling with magic is like fighting with blades weapons. No one is intended to fight with lethal means. However, I was speaking with those I believe were the Dreadlord apprentices. They fully believe themselves capable of killing all of you easily and without trouble, indeed they speak as it is what they are meant to do. One at least certainly seems disappointed that he is not permitted to kill.”
He stopped again, letting the words sink in. Hopefully some of them were getting through. Human beardless ones were just as stubborn and confident as young Dwarves. And, he realized with a chill, far less durable than young Dwarves.
“And yes, you are correct. It is crucial to practice magic in non-controlled contexts. But realize these competitors you face against are trained to view and use magic as a weapon. If they were Maesters in their own right, there would be no concern, for they would have the control necessary. But they are not. They are apprentices still lacking both the wisdom and restraint to fully control power.”
It was one of the longest speeches he had ever given. Even his lectures rarely had him speaking so long, not so earnestly.
“Compete with wisdom and with caution. Never reveal all your tricks and always have one of your strongest held in reserve.”
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Phillipa made a sputtering scoff of a noise and laughed aloud at the concern of being hacked by a stray sword. "The dreadlords would have to incite an outright fight in order to have a fully sharpened steel blade on the field. If they were to do so however, you have my reassurance as one of the figureheads of the college, the threat of possible harm via ill intent by the dreadlords would be dealt with swiftly." Phillipa assured him.
"I don't believe them such heathens as to break honor even in a sham of a matchup as this." Phillipa shared her opinion as they came to the board to examine the lot drawings.
"I don't believe them such heathens as to break honor even in a sham of a matchup as this." Phillipa shared her opinion as they came to the board to examine the lot drawings.
"Dawnbringer," the voice of an old man rung out from the Maester's tent just beyond the competition grounds. The massive gryphon paused in her stride, skull arching round to catch sight of Ignatius Osric, Maester of the Fifth Order of the College of Elbion. The old man smiled up at her as he stepped outside, arms spreading for a respectable bow, "you honor us with your presence."
A bow of the head was returned by the gryphon, feathered ears laid back.
"Are you here for business or pleasure, my friend?" he Maester asked as he straightened out royal purple robes, waiting a moment as he received her answer and offering a chuckle in reply, "Put a bee in my bonnet, isn't that grand. We will be sure to announce the additional earnings to the winner. I'm certain-" he paused, blinking, and then smiled knowingly, "I will talk to the local authority about that. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable m'Lady. Er-" he spied her narrowed glance and shrugged, "as comfortable as one your size could be."
Not much room for the bull-elephant sized creature in such close quarters, but she was sure there was an open area overlooking the competition fields where she could stage herself and, with any luck, her meal.
To the tournament grounds she stalked, carving a path as broad as she was tall through the crowds and drawing attention for everyone within eyesight.
A bow of the head was returned by the gryphon, feathered ears laid back.
"Are you here for business or pleasure, my friend?" he Maester asked as he straightened out royal purple robes, waiting a moment as he received her answer and offering a chuckle in reply, "Put a bee in my bonnet, isn't that grand. We will be sure to announce the additional earnings to the winner. I'm certain-" he paused, blinking, and then smiled knowingly, "I will talk to the local authority about that. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable m'Lady. Er-" he spied her narrowed glance and shrugged, "as comfortable as one your size could be."
Not much room for the bull-elephant sized creature in such close quarters, but she was sure there was an open area overlooking the competition fields where she could stage herself and, with any luck, her meal.
To the tournament grounds she stalked, carving a path as broad as she was tall through the crowds and drawing attention for everyone within eyesight.
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The College’s camp had their own posting of all the matches. It took little time for Kara to find it.
“Talus Morid? Golem fights?” Kara read aloud.
A sigh followed. While on the road to Terin, Kara expressed hope of getting placed in a non-combative match. Knowing what type of match she had, Kara began to leave to prepare.
Phillipa Ebonheart and Severin Bellerose approached the board. She gave them a nod in greeting with a blank face. Kara intended to leave their interaction at just that, yet she would exchange a few quick words with Phillipa and Severin if the teachers wanted to.
After gathering her things, Kara approached the makeshift golem arena with quick steps. The College mantle that she normally wore in Elbion was left on her tent’s cot. She wore long-sleeve shirt and trousers instead of a robe or skirt that would have tripped her up. Several leather pouches hanged securely off her belt. A couple sheathed dagger dangled to the sides. It was extremely simple compared to the full suits of armor several apprentices wore.
The arena was very simple. Dirt replaced grass within it. A fence acted as the barrier between the stage and any attendees. Wooden benches acted as seating.
Two golems stood still near the center of the arena. They looked like bulky, muscled-up armored soldiers with many runes decorating their surface.
The referee for this match addressed the gathering crowd with, “Can the participants Talus Morid and Kara Orin approach the arena?”
“Talus Morid? Golem fights?” Kara read aloud.
A sigh followed. While on the road to Terin, Kara expressed hope of getting placed in a non-combative match. Knowing what type of match she had, Kara began to leave to prepare.
Phillipa Ebonheart and Severin Bellerose approached the board. She gave them a nod in greeting with a blank face. Kara intended to leave their interaction at just that, yet she would exchange a few quick words with Phillipa and Severin if the teachers wanted to.
After gathering her things, Kara approached the makeshift golem arena with quick steps. The College mantle that she normally wore in Elbion was left on her tent’s cot. She wore long-sleeve shirt and trousers instead of a robe or skirt that would have tripped her up. Several leather pouches hanged securely off her belt. A couple sheathed dagger dangled to the sides. It was extremely simple compared to the full suits of armor several apprentices wore.
The arena was very simple. Dirt replaced grass within it. A fence acted as the barrier between the stage and any attendees. Wooden benches acted as seating.
Two golems stood still near the center of the arena. They looked like bulky, muscled-up armored soldiers with many runes decorating their surface.
The referee for this match addressed the gathering crowd with, “Can the participants Talus Morid and Kara Orin approach the arena?”
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Selina was indeed young, a bit willful, and excitable. But she was learning one of the most difficult crafts that can be taught at the college, so patience and temperance had been drilled into her from day one. She heard the dwarf rumble his advice. And she had taken enough of his classes to know that he was not making idle conversation.
She hadn't much considered their opponents, the Dreadlords. Battle mages... Or could they be called mages? She once read a thesis done by a now graduated student on the Dreadlord academies. Their recruitment methods seemed to target anyone born with an inherent ability in magic, almost like a hereditary gift that was lost and is resurfacing among the youth of that country.
So... sorcerers perhaps?
And all willing to kill if not for outsider rules to temper them... But what about 'accidents'? Sigfrith was right, magic was not meant to be trifled with and she would be a fool to even take her own spells lightly. Especially her drop scrolls, they were just quick spells that she intended to test, but anything could go wrong if they didn't work, anything from fizzling out to a catastrophic explosion.
She felt foolish now.
Testing her magic at an event like this? she could kill herself or someone else by accident!
She felt humbled now... She would have to go through her scrolls and remove the ones that she held less confidence in their success. Her regular spells were ones she already knew and had practiced often, she was fully confident in them, but the problem was that she was limited in how many of those she could cast per day. She had to be strategic in their use, and pace herself.
His words had sunk in and she took and released a far less confident breath.
"Thank you for reminding me, Kronok… I would still really like to meet the griffon, but I think I should go to the boards and see who I'm up against and at what we'll be contesting... Yankar, delok var."
With that she took her leave of the dwarf and made her way to the matching board. She was far less excited now and didn't skip. Instead she felt a cold sense of fear creep up her spine and a sudden realization that this may have been a very bad idea. This wasn't going to turn out anything like how she imagined it in her dorm. Her thoughts turned to ones of self-preservation and survival... She was a wizard, good with books and magic, less so with combat.
Dejected she came up and past Kara Orin and looked at the matching board.
She hadn't much considered their opponents, the Dreadlords. Battle mages... Or could they be called mages? She once read a thesis done by a now graduated student on the Dreadlord academies. Their recruitment methods seemed to target anyone born with an inherent ability in magic, almost like a hereditary gift that was lost and is resurfacing among the youth of that country.
So... sorcerers perhaps?
And all willing to kill if not for outsider rules to temper them... But what about 'accidents'? Sigfrith was right, magic was not meant to be trifled with and she would be a fool to even take her own spells lightly. Especially her drop scrolls, they were just quick spells that she intended to test, but anything could go wrong if they didn't work, anything from fizzling out to a catastrophic explosion.
She felt foolish now.
Testing her magic at an event like this? she could kill herself or someone else by accident!
She felt humbled now... She would have to go through her scrolls and remove the ones that she held less confidence in their success. Her regular spells were ones she already knew and had practiced often, she was fully confident in them, but the problem was that she was limited in how many of those she could cast per day. She had to be strategic in their use, and pace herself.
His words had sunk in and she took and released a far less confident breath.
"Thank you for reminding me, Kronok… I would still really like to meet the griffon, but I think I should go to the boards and see who I'm up against and at what we'll be contesting... Yankar, delok var."
With that she took her leave of the dwarf and made her way to the matching board. She was far less excited now and didn't skip. Instead she felt a cold sense of fear creep up her spine and a sudden realization that this may have been a very bad idea. This wasn't going to turn out anything like how she imagined it in her dorm. Her thoughts turned to ones of self-preservation and survival... She was a wizard, good with books and magic, less so with combat.
Dejected she came up and past Kara Orin and looked at the matching board.
The mercenary checked his weapons with the event coordinators and peace tied them. He settled along the arena side and waited for the event to start. Leather armor over chainmail marked him out from the rest of the spectators as he watched the spectacle of College magic showcase against Vel Anir magic.
His efforts along with several others of catching beasties for this event something that he wanted to affirm in watching the destruction of said beasties. If someone fell in the battles, against the monsters it would bring a smile to his face for their lack of preparation.
His efforts along with several others of catching beasties for this event something that he wanted to affirm in watching the destruction of said beasties. If someone fell in the battles, against the monsters it would bring a smile to his face for their lack of preparation.
"Ah, go on ahead," Hal said to Talus, "I'll find myself and catch up to you."
Henry stood close to the board. He could read well, and at The Academy, made an effort to regularly read in The Archives with what little free time the Apprentices were given. What hindered him was his eyesight. Small characters, like those on the page of a book, were difficult for Hal to see clearly unless they were close. Thankfully, the writing on the board was a good size.
He didn't read many of the names, as he knew what his own name looked like when it was written down. The Apprentice quickly skimmed the board and found his name.
Manticore Hunt
He mused for a moment, attempting to recall some time long ago when a Proctor had given a lesson on beasts. The manticore had come up rather briefly, but Hal never did any further studying on it, nor did the lesson contain minute details.
What he was more concerned about was Selina Altas. The name of the event gave no indication that he would have to fight this Selina, which he was grateful for in a way. Of course, he would fight her without restraint. If the choice was his, however, he would rather not. Doing violence onto others was normal to the Apprentices, one could venture to say it had become a natural thing. Henry had no qualms over this, but none of that meant he found any pleasure in it.
He was awkward with Sierra and dreaded the idea of facing off with a girl more delicate than the Apprentice. He knew not of Selina's appearance. However, as he left the board and made his way towards the tournament grounds, he cast a contemplative gaze at a shorter girl with shoulder-length hair, brown of color. His eyes snapped away after a moment, his thoughts now focused on the competition ahead of him.
Hal quite fancied how her shoulder-length hair looked.
Henry stood close to the board. He could read well, and at The Academy, made an effort to regularly read in The Archives with what little free time the Apprentices were given. What hindered him was his eyesight. Small characters, like those on the page of a book, were difficult for Hal to see clearly unless they were close. Thankfully, the writing on the board was a good size.
He didn't read many of the names, as he knew what his own name looked like when it was written down. The Apprentice quickly skimmed the board and found his name.
Manticore Hunt
He mused for a moment, attempting to recall some time long ago when a Proctor had given a lesson on beasts. The manticore had come up rather briefly, but Hal never did any further studying on it, nor did the lesson contain minute details.
What he was more concerned about was Selina Altas. The name of the event gave no indication that he would have to fight this Selina, which he was grateful for in a way. Of course, he would fight her without restraint. If the choice was his, however, he would rather not. Doing violence onto others was normal to the Apprentices, one could venture to say it had become a natural thing. Henry had no qualms over this, but none of that meant he found any pleasure in it.
He was awkward with Sierra and dreaded the idea of facing off with a girl more delicate than the Apprentice. He knew not of Selina's appearance. However, as he left the board and made his way towards the tournament grounds, he cast a contemplative gaze at a shorter girl with shoulder-length hair, brown of color. His eyes snapped away after a moment, his thoughts now focused on the competition ahead of him.
Hal quite fancied how her shoulder-length hair looked.
A nod was sent Hal's way as Talus parted from the rest of the group and headed towards the Arena.
The thing wasnt really impressive, at least not compared to the stadium that was built in the center of Vel Anir. Still, it was built well enough. Wooden stands and large fences lined the whole place, and in the center he could see two massive stone statues that seemed to loom over everything. They did not move, but their bodies were decorated in heavy carved runes.
Golems.
His gaze narrowed for a moment as he turned the corner and headed towards the Arenas entrance, hearing the reverberation of someone calling out his and Kara Orin's name. His step quickened, and thus he didn't see the man walking his way as he turned the corner. Before he could stop himself Talus crashed into the stranger, bumping his shoulder.
The impact should have sent the man falling, but instead it was Talus who went tumbling to the ground. He landed with a thud, his head nearly smashing into the mud as he opened his mouth in anger. "Hey what the fu-"
Instantly his mouth clamped shut as he spotted a small pin on the man's cloak and then noted his face.
He recognized the man, and the moment he did Talus could feel a surge of adrenaline pump through his veins. Every muscle seized up, his face tightening as he fear gripped his heart. He could feel his breath catch, his lungs ceasing to cooperate as he waited for the man he'd bumped into to simply immolate him.
His voice was like muted thunder in his ear, the command ringing so powerfully that Talus scrambled to his feet in a near instant. It was like his body wasn't even listening to him. "Apologies Archon."
The man standing before him was none other than Idrig Crane, one of the most powerful and feared Dreadlords alive. Talus had never seen him in person, but he recognized him from posters and drawings in the great Archives. Idrig was a man to behold. It was said that twenty years ago when he neared his graduation he single handedly slaughtered his entire class simply as a way to ensure his proper placement among the ranks. Since then his list of accomplishments and atrocities ran longer than most merchant's debt books.
His reputation was such that apparently the Elves of the Falwood had a standing edict to kill him on sight, despite the tentative peace between Vel Anir and Fal'Addas. His magic was a deadly one, and Talus couldn't help but wonder why he was here.
For most, being this close to the man was a recipe for death.
Talus nodded weakly, quite unsure what the Archon was getting at.
With that the Archon turned to the left and walked away from Talus, leaving the young Apprentice shaking in his boots. He could feel a pressure in his palm, his eyes looking down to find that he'd been grabbing onto his gauntlet so tight the blood had left his fingers. A breath finally filled his lungs, hand releasing as his head slowly shook and thoughts returned to him. His eyes swept towards where the Archon had gone, trying to find the man though only spotting a crowd.
Did that just happen? Had the Archon threatened him? Talus felt his stomach rumble slightly, churning as though he were about to spew on the ground. After a moment he took in another deep breath, then stepped forward towards the edge of the ring.
There the announcer spotted him, apparently aware of what both he and the other contestant looked like. The man's voice boomed out, some sort of magic propelling the sound much farther than it should have.
"PLEASE WELCOME TALUS MORID AND KARA ORIN!"
A cheer erupted from the gathered peasants of Terin and the collective students, teachers, Proctor, and whatever else that sat in the crowd.
The thing wasnt really impressive, at least not compared to the stadium that was built in the center of Vel Anir. Still, it was built well enough. Wooden stands and large fences lined the whole place, and in the center he could see two massive stone statues that seemed to loom over everything. They did not move, but their bodies were decorated in heavy carved runes.
Golems.
His gaze narrowed for a moment as he turned the corner and headed towards the Arenas entrance, hearing the reverberation of someone calling out his and Kara Orin's name. His step quickened, and thus he didn't see the man walking his way as he turned the corner. Before he could stop himself Talus crashed into the stranger, bumping his shoulder.
The impact should have sent the man falling, but instead it was Talus who went tumbling to the ground. He landed with a thud, his head nearly smashing into the mud as he opened his mouth in anger. "Hey what the fu-"
Instantly his mouth clamped shut as he spotted a small pin on the man's cloak and then noted his face.
He recognized the man, and the moment he did Talus could feel a surge of adrenaline pump through his veins. Every muscle seized up, his face tightening as he fear gripped his heart. He could feel his breath catch, his lungs ceasing to cooperate as he waited for the man he'd bumped into to simply immolate him.
"Get up."
His voice was like muted thunder in his ear, the command ringing so powerfully that Talus scrambled to his feet in a near instant. It was like his body wasn't even listening to him. "Apologies Archon."
The man standing before him was none other than Idrig Crane, one of the most powerful and feared Dreadlords alive. Talus had never seen him in person, but he recognized him from posters and drawings in the great Archives. Idrig was a man to behold. It was said that twenty years ago when he neared his graduation he single handedly slaughtered his entire class simply as a way to ensure his proper placement among the ranks. Since then his list of accomplishments and atrocities ran longer than most merchant's debt books.
His reputation was such that apparently the Elves of the Falwood had a standing edict to kill him on sight, despite the tentative peace between Vel Anir and Fal'Addas. His magic was a deadly one, and Talus couldn't help but wonder why he was here.
For most, being this close to the man was a recipe for death.
"Yours is the first bout, Apprentice? "
Talus nodded weakly, quite unsure what the Archon was getting at.
"Good. Perform well. Give nothing of your abilities away if you can help it. Don't lose."
With that the Archon turned to the left and walked away from Talus, leaving the young Apprentice shaking in his boots. He could feel a pressure in his palm, his eyes looking down to find that he'd been grabbing onto his gauntlet so tight the blood had left his fingers. A breath finally filled his lungs, hand releasing as his head slowly shook and thoughts returned to him. His eyes swept towards where the Archon had gone, trying to find the man though only spotting a crowd.
Did that just happen? Had the Archon threatened him? Talus felt his stomach rumble slightly, churning as though he were about to spew on the ground. After a moment he took in another deep breath, then stepped forward towards the edge of the ring.
There the announcer spotted him, apparently aware of what both he and the other contestant looked like. The man's voice boomed out, some sort of magic propelling the sound much farther than it should have.
"PLEASE WELCOME TALUS MORID AND KARA ORIN!"
A cheer erupted from the gathered peasants of Terin and the collective students, teachers, Proctor, and whatever else that sat in the crowd.
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He would have shared some other words if he hadn't found them too indicative of his true origin.
»Suppose you're right. Unless it's an 'accident'.«
---
Severin would have nodded to the young Kara after their lithe exchange of words.
»Good luck,« was the last word he told before she had to scoot off towards the grounds.
For a slightly longer moment, his eyes peered at the massive, glistening griffon of repute before changing his gaze at Phillipa.
»Shall I find us a good spot?«
»Suppose you're right. Unless it's an 'accident'.«
---
Severin would have nodded to the young Kara after their lithe exchange of words.
»Good luck,« was the last word he told before she had to scoot off towards the grounds.
For a slightly longer moment, his eyes peered at the massive, glistening griffon of repute before changing his gaze at Phillipa.
»Shall I find us a good spot?«
- Messages
- 151
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"However unfortunate they are, 'accidents' do happen." Phillipa nodded to the last bit. Both on and off the field she silently added in her mind. Kara headed for her match and Phillipa offered nothing as she went.
"Lead the way." She nodded as she made to follow behind him, giving the gryphon a small nod as she left.
"Lead the way." She nodded as she made to follow behind him, giving the gryphon a small nod as she left.
Issy had found her tent as quickly as she could. She didn’t like the gawking from those who apparently had never saw a blind woman for the first time, that or the first time they saw a miniature horse walking beside her while toting supplies in a wooden cart behind.
She did perhaps pass a few people, but no one she really bothered with, no her duty was to help where she could with the wounded, after all she was an herbalist and was very good at this talent.
Therefore, she received a letter from a friend who asked for some added help, she had never gone to the mage college, but she had heard about it, but it was something she didn’t believe she had.
Talking to the dead wasn’t magic now was it?
In the meantime, Issy received some help in setting up her work area and making sure everything was place just right, so she could heal those on her own. She’d prepare by counting the steps from bed to certain shelves getting familiar with the space she found herself in. A nod of her head and she was ready, she could hear the beginning of the tournament and with a deep breath and a gentle release she waited for whatever came through those flaps in her tent
She did perhaps pass a few people, but no one she really bothered with, no her duty was to help where she could with the wounded, after all she was an herbalist and was very good at this talent.
Therefore, she received a letter from a friend who asked for some added help, she had never gone to the mage college, but she had heard about it, but it was something she didn’t believe she had.
Talking to the dead wasn’t magic now was it?
In the meantime, Issy received some help in setting up her work area and making sure everything was place just right, so she could heal those on her own. She’d prepare by counting the steps from bed to certain shelves getting familiar with the space she found herself in. A nod of her head and she was ready, she could hear the beginning of the tournament and with a deep breath and a gentle release she waited for whatever came through those flaps in her tent
- Messages
- 250
- Character Biography
- Link
'Selina Altas & Henry Bauer - Manticore Hunt'
Crap... Manticores. Powerful and disturbing beasts, she had read the library bestiary several times and could recall the recorded details of most of the creatures. While Manticores had no magical resistances they were deadly opponents to magic casters and warriors alike.
Henry Bauer was the one she is matched up with. Hopefully the apprentices of the Dreadlord academies were as adept in combat as they said. Manticores were monsters, but very few other monsters had the ability of ranged attacks, which a Manticore would monopolize on, sending a rain of spikes down on them if given the chance.
Clutching her spellbook even more tightly she trudged to the arena where the competition will take place. When she arrived it seemed the arena was a mass of magically grown forest, with a single clearing in the middle.
The audience was protected by a fence, but also overlooked the arena significantly as the ground of the arena was sunk down maybe thirty or forty feet, so the audience could see over the tops of the trees. The announcer, a homunculus with a comical voice amplification, flapped across and hovered over the arena, making his announcement.
"WOULD OUR CONTESTANTS, MISS ALTAS AND MISTER BAUER PLEASE STEP INTO THE CENTER OF THE ARENA!"
It was like they knew exactly when and where each contestant was.
She walked around till she found a narrow staircase of stone steps leading to the floor of the arena. Then she made her way to the center clearing and waited.
Her palms were sweaty and her breath was short and quick as she fought down a sense of panic... She might die... She might actually die.
Crap... Manticores. Powerful and disturbing beasts, she had read the library bestiary several times and could recall the recorded details of most of the creatures. While Manticores had no magical resistances they were deadly opponents to magic casters and warriors alike.
Henry Bauer was the one she is matched up with. Hopefully the apprentices of the Dreadlord academies were as adept in combat as they said. Manticores were monsters, but very few other monsters had the ability of ranged attacks, which a Manticore would monopolize on, sending a rain of spikes down on them if given the chance.
Clutching her spellbook even more tightly she trudged to the arena where the competition will take place. When she arrived it seemed the arena was a mass of magically grown forest, with a single clearing in the middle.
The audience was protected by a fence, but also overlooked the arena significantly as the ground of the arena was sunk down maybe thirty or forty feet, so the audience could see over the tops of the trees. The announcer, a homunculus with a comical voice amplification, flapped across and hovered over the arena, making his announcement.
"WOULD OUR CONTESTANTS, MISS ALTAS AND MISTER BAUER PLEASE STEP INTO THE CENTER OF THE ARENA!"
It was like they knew exactly when and where each contestant was.
She walked around till she found a narrow staircase of stone steps leading to the floor of the arena. Then she made her way to the center clearing and waited.
Her palms were sweaty and her breath was short and quick as she fought down a sense of panic... She might die... She might actually die.
- Messages
- 8
- Character Biography
- Link
Making his way through the crowds of onlookers, and students Ukrit stood tall above many of them. Many immediately clearing the path for the behemoth of a hybrid, even on the outskirts of Elbion where the tournament was taking place he suffered judgment. While he couldn’t hear the whispered comments of some he passed Uthrik just knew in the back of his mind they were discussing him. Charcoal eyes darting back and forth the half-orc found it increasingly difficult to focus on the book he held open in his hands. The reading spectacles hanging precariously low on the bridge of his nose.
Ukrit ’s mouth grew more dry with every moment that passed, he’d been coerced into the tournament by a few of the College’s professors. It was honestly one of the times that they’d seemed enthused to be dealing with Uthrik. Was it because of his heritage? Did they expect a half-orc to scare the Dreadlord students? It was the most likely possibility in the hybrid’s mind. Though in truth he held no proficiency with any weapons despite his adoptive father being a knight. The only weapons Ukrit was proficient with were the claws that adorned his hands and feet. Which sadly both were on open display, not by choice but just due to how naturally sharp they were. Over the years he’d had to give up wearing gloves and shoes due to tearing them after simple movements. Suffice to say this did little to change the thoughts of some that he was nothing more than a savage.
There was a warm breeze on the air, the heat of the sun above bathing Ukrit’s face in warmth. The rest of his body drabbed in crimson robes bearing the emblem of the College of Elbion on it. Ukrit knew he was running late, he’d spent so much time wrestling with the deep-seated anxiety at his core that he’d forgotten to even check who he was supposed to be competing against in the tournament.
Footsteps hurried he approached the board, unknowingly bumping into a much smaller figure that stood in his path. The glasses on the bridge of his nose fell free to the ground below hitting the ground with a small barely audible snap. “Oh bother, do forgive me. That was not my intention.”
Fearing what would be said in response Ukrit turned away scooping up the ruined glasses. Eyes squinting to look at the board the half-orc tried to read it as fast as he could and get out of there before he was any more late or chastised. The yells and cheers as other names were called out filled his ears and increased his sense of urgency.
Ukrit ’s mouth grew more dry with every moment that passed, he’d been coerced into the tournament by a few of the College’s professors. It was honestly one of the times that they’d seemed enthused to be dealing with Uthrik. Was it because of his heritage? Did they expect a half-orc to scare the Dreadlord students? It was the most likely possibility in the hybrid’s mind. Though in truth he held no proficiency with any weapons despite his adoptive father being a knight. The only weapons Ukrit was proficient with were the claws that adorned his hands and feet. Which sadly both were on open display, not by choice but just due to how naturally sharp they were. Over the years he’d had to give up wearing gloves and shoes due to tearing them after simple movements. Suffice to say this did little to change the thoughts of some that he was nothing more than a savage.
There was a warm breeze on the air, the heat of the sun above bathing Ukrit’s face in warmth. The rest of his body drabbed in crimson robes bearing the emblem of the College of Elbion on it. Ukrit knew he was running late, he’d spent so much time wrestling with the deep-seated anxiety at his core that he’d forgotten to even check who he was supposed to be competing against in the tournament.
Footsteps hurried he approached the board, unknowingly bumping into a much smaller figure that stood in his path. The glasses on the bridge of his nose fell free to the ground below hitting the ground with a small barely audible snap. “Oh bother, do forgive me. That was not my intention.”
Fearing what would be said in response Ukrit turned away scooping up the ruined glasses. Eyes squinting to look at the board the half-orc tried to read it as fast as he could and get out of there before he was any more late or chastised. The yells and cheers as other names were called out filled his ears and increased his sense of urgency.
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As he made his way to the tournament grounds, he heard the announcement. Stopping by a tent at the top of the stone stairs, he grabbed a shield and five spears which he bundled together with rope.
His armor was light, as was his step. He felt confident and with every stride, his confidence grew. It took no time at all for him to reach the clearing. Across from him, already waiting, was Selina Altas. He immediately recognized that hair and fought the urge to smile.
As he waited for the announcer, he unwound the rope and stabbed the spears into the dirt beneath his feet. With a stoic expression and cold eyes, he stared across the field at the scholar.
His armor was light, as was his step. He felt confident and with every stride, his confidence grew. It took no time at all for him to reach the clearing. Across from him, already waiting, was Selina Altas. He immediately recognized that hair and fought the urge to smile.
As he waited for the announcer, he unwound the rope and stabbed the spears into the dirt beneath his feet. With a stoic expression and cold eyes, he stared across the field at the scholar.
- Messages
- 151
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- Link
Phillipa had peeled her eyes away from the griffon in time to be bumped into. Her stomp of a heeled foot followed the soft crunch of something behind her as a voice begged pardon and made to escape. She rounded quickly, and pinched the college robe that began to move away.
"I would ask you to wait a moment Severin. I believe I heard something break just a moment ago." Phillipa gave too sweet a smile as she held her hand open for the item in question.
"I would ask you to wait a moment Severin. I believe I heard something break just a moment ago." Phillipa gave too sweet a smile as she held her hand open for the item in question.
Sierra dragged her index finger down the boards, fingerpad smudging the ink as she went. Gray-blue eyes widened a fraction in surprise. She didn't think she'd be paired for the archery challenge. She'd assumed it would be a massive group. But there was one name next to hers.
Ukrit Nahr and Sierra versus a pack of timber wolves.
Ah. So it would be shooting live targets. No doubt the wolves would be half-starved for the competition. Reminded her of the time she, Hal, Talus, and Luther were stranded in the wood. She'd never forget those stalking howls. A shadow crossed over the board as a half-orc towered over most of those around.
The hell?
Ukrit Nahr and Sierra versus a pack of timber wolves.
Ah. So it would be shooting live targets. No doubt the wolves would be half-starved for the competition. Reminded her of the time she, Hal, Talus, and Luther were stranded in the wood. She'd never forget those stalking howls. A shadow crossed over the board as a half-orc towered over most of those around.
The hell?
Just as with Talus, Kara got a somewhat unexpected visitor. As she was beginning her approach to the arena, someone came up behind her and gave a couple heavy pats on her head with a familiar sounded, “Heya!”
Kara jumped at the sudden move and turned around to see a man with black hair and blue eyes – just like her own. He was still a young adult and roughly half a foot taller than Kara. When she turned around, Kara sported a confused, almost angry, look upon her face. Yet when she realized who the man was, she smiled.
“Damn, that scared me, Brother!” Kara told him.
Instead of a dreaded Archon, Kara met Arne Orrin – her eldest brother. In contrast to the usually stoic Kara, Arne got all the charisma genes from his parents. Because of that, he got a job in the Cairou River Trading Company to help introduce the company and get their foot in the door. Considering how this event supposedly served to introduce trade between the cities, it made sense why he was here.
“Just wanted to wish you luck,” Arne told Kara as he raised a mug. It was not even that late to start drinking.
“Don’t bother,” Kara replied, “I plan to drop out at the first chance I get.”
With a playful frown, Arne said, “Oh wow, Rothi just went to place a bet on you, though!”
Rothi was an orc employed as a bodyguard the Cairou River Trading Company. Though against highly trained Dreadlords, he would not offer much of a fight.
“Too bad for him,” Kara said with a chuckle.
Turning to the arena, Kara left her brother with a wave and, “Meet me after the match! Be careful!”
Arne would then go off to find a seat in the crowd. Arne being Arne, he would attempt to socialize with the other attendees sitting near him.
As Kara stepped into the dirt covered circle, the announcer bellowed,
“PLEASE WELCOME TALUS MORID AND KARA ORIN!”
The smile on Kara’s face had slowly faded. Yet she looked around the arena with curiosity as the crowd cheered. She looked over to the Apprentice she would face. He appeared much more prepared for a fight than Kara.
“THEY WILL BE OUR CONTESTANTS IN THE GOLLEEMMM FIIIGHT!”
Kara turned to the two dormant golems in the center. She was easily dwarfed by them. They were marked with different color paint – one blue and one orange.
“EACH CONTESTANT WILL FIGHT A GOLEM! TALUS, THE DREADLORD APPRENTICE, AGAINST THE BLUE GOLEM! KARA, THE COLLEGE STUDENT, AGAINST THE ORANGE GOLEM!”
The crowd cheered once more as the golems were activated and stood up.
“THE FIRST CONTESTANT TO DISABLE THEIR GOLEM FOR MORE THAN TEN SECONDS IS THE VICTOR! ANY MAGIC OR WEAPONS ARE ALLOWED! BUT, CONTESTANTS ARE DISQUALIFIED IF THEY LEAVE THE ARENA – WILLINGLY OR OTHERWISE! THEY ALSO CAN’T ATTACK EACH OTHER – WITH MAGIC OR OTHERWISE – OR THEY ARE DISQUALIFIED!”
With the conditions of the match outlined, the announcer motioned Talus and Kara to take different sides of the arena. He continued to rile up the audience.
“AND THESE GOLEMS ARE NO JOKE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE HAVE HEALERS READY FOR WHEN THEY BREAK ANY BONES!”
And indeed, a few healers stood ready in case of any accidents. The size of the golems definitely gave credit to the announcer's words.
“TALUS, ARE YOU READY?! KARA, ARE YOU READY?!”
Kara nodded and took a stance. She placed a finger upon her right shoulder and stared at the orange golem.
“LET THE MATCH BEGIN!”
And with that, both golems sprang to life and attacked their assigned fighters…
Kara jumped at the sudden move and turned around to see a man with black hair and blue eyes – just like her own. He was still a young adult and roughly half a foot taller than Kara. When she turned around, Kara sported a confused, almost angry, look upon her face. Yet when she realized who the man was, she smiled.
“Damn, that scared me, Brother!” Kara told him.
Instead of a dreaded Archon, Kara met Arne Orrin – her eldest brother. In contrast to the usually stoic Kara, Arne got all the charisma genes from his parents. Because of that, he got a job in the Cairou River Trading Company to help introduce the company and get their foot in the door. Considering how this event supposedly served to introduce trade between the cities, it made sense why he was here.
“Just wanted to wish you luck,” Arne told Kara as he raised a mug. It was not even that late to start drinking.
“Don’t bother,” Kara replied, “I plan to drop out at the first chance I get.”
With a playful frown, Arne said, “Oh wow, Rothi just went to place a bet on you, though!”
Rothi was an orc employed as a bodyguard the Cairou River Trading Company. Though against highly trained Dreadlords, he would not offer much of a fight.
“Too bad for him,” Kara said with a chuckle.
Turning to the arena, Kara left her brother with a wave and, “Meet me after the match! Be careful!”
Arne would then go off to find a seat in the crowd. Arne being Arne, he would attempt to socialize with the other attendees sitting near him.
As Kara stepped into the dirt covered circle, the announcer bellowed,
“PLEASE WELCOME TALUS MORID AND KARA ORIN!”
The smile on Kara’s face had slowly faded. Yet she looked around the arena with curiosity as the crowd cheered. She looked over to the Apprentice she would face. He appeared much more prepared for a fight than Kara.
“THEY WILL BE OUR CONTESTANTS IN THE GOLLEEMMM FIIIGHT!”
Kara turned to the two dormant golems in the center. She was easily dwarfed by them. They were marked with different color paint – one blue and one orange.
“EACH CONTESTANT WILL FIGHT A GOLEM! TALUS, THE DREADLORD APPRENTICE, AGAINST THE BLUE GOLEM! KARA, THE COLLEGE STUDENT, AGAINST THE ORANGE GOLEM!”
The crowd cheered once more as the golems were activated and stood up.
“THE FIRST CONTESTANT TO DISABLE THEIR GOLEM FOR MORE THAN TEN SECONDS IS THE VICTOR! ANY MAGIC OR WEAPONS ARE ALLOWED! BUT, CONTESTANTS ARE DISQUALIFIED IF THEY LEAVE THE ARENA – WILLINGLY OR OTHERWISE! THEY ALSO CAN’T ATTACK EACH OTHER – WITH MAGIC OR OTHERWISE – OR THEY ARE DISQUALIFIED!”
With the conditions of the match outlined, the announcer motioned Talus and Kara to take different sides of the arena. He continued to rile up the audience.
“AND THESE GOLEMS ARE NO JOKE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE HAVE HEALERS READY FOR WHEN THEY BREAK ANY BONES!”
And indeed, a few healers stood ready in case of any accidents. The size of the golems definitely gave credit to the announcer's words.
“TALUS, ARE YOU READY?! KARA, ARE YOU READY?!”
Kara nodded and took a stance. She placed a finger upon her right shoulder and stared at the orange golem.
“LET THE MATCH BEGIN!”
And with that, both golems sprang to life and attacked their assigned fighters…
Blue golem.
No attacking the girl.
Any means.
The rules were simple enough, though Talus wondered if there wasn't something else that he could do to shift things in his favor. Archon Crane had been quite clear in what the outcome should be, and if things didn't land that way...lips thinned at the thought.
As the announcer began to call out the start of the match Talus glanced over to his opponent. Kara Orin seemed like an ordinary enough girl. She wore no armor, though that was hardly a shock. She was a mage of some sort, that was easy to guess, but from looking at her there was no way to tell what sort of magic she used.
He hoped it wasn't anything to do with golems.
The Apprentice drew his sword as the Anouncer called out his final words. The sound echoed, and on queue the Golems surged into life.
To Talus' surprise the great stone giants moved quickly, raising their heads and immediately stomping forward. The thing charged him, it's massive stone arm raising back. Eyebrows raised and the Apprentice dashed to the side as a massive fist slammed into the ground where he had just stood.
He heard the earth cracking, small lines forming within the earth.
A curse escaped him as he was nearly knocked off his feet, the shattering strike sending a shake through the ground. In his hand the blade turned, stabbing down into the ground as he used it to pivot and jump onto the great golem's arm.
No attacking the girl.
Any means.
The rules were simple enough, though Talus wondered if there wasn't something else that he could do to shift things in his favor. Archon Crane had been quite clear in what the outcome should be, and if things didn't land that way...lips thinned at the thought.
As the announcer began to call out the start of the match Talus glanced over to his opponent. Kara Orin seemed like an ordinary enough girl. She wore no armor, though that was hardly a shock. She was a mage of some sort, that was easy to guess, but from looking at her there was no way to tell what sort of magic she used.
He hoped it wasn't anything to do with golems.
The Apprentice drew his sword as the Anouncer called out his final words. The sound echoed, and on queue the Golems surged into life.
To Talus' surprise the great stone giants moved quickly, raising their heads and immediately stomping forward. The thing charged him, it's massive stone arm raising back. Eyebrows raised and the Apprentice dashed to the side as a massive fist slammed into the ground where he had just stood.
He heard the earth cracking, small lines forming within the earth.
A curse escaped him as he was nearly knocked off his feet, the shattering strike sending a shake through the ground. In his hand the blade turned, stabbing down into the ground as he used it to pivot and jump onto the great golem's arm.
- Messages
- 250
- Character Biography
- Link
She looked up as Henry approached. He was armed, which made her relax a little. He may be able to stand a chance even if his magic isn't effective against the Manticores. But as she examined him there was a sinking feeling in her stomach... Even though this guy was taller and more imposing than she was, she could tell that he was maybe two or three years younger than she was. If he did have skill with magic, it couldn't be very refined at all. She had lived a little bit longer and she was only now beginning to achieve some measure of adequacy with her craft.
She appeared just as nervous as she felt. The announcer began outlining the rules of the competition.
"EACH CONTESTANT WILL BE REQUIRED TO DEAL WITH THE TWO MANTICORES THAT WILL BE RELEASED INTO THE ARENA. YOU MAY USE ANY WEAPONS OR MAGIC AT YOUR DISPOSAL, BUT YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO ATTACK EACHOTHER."
The Homunculus monologued a bit after this, "THESE MANTICORE ARE SAVAGE BEASTS, THEY HAVE WINGS BUT DO NOT WORRY! FOR THE SAFETY OF THIS EVENT THEIR WINGS HAVE BEEN CLIPPED. BUT BE AWARE, THEY SHOOT SPIKES FROM THEIR TAILS IN A DEVISTATING RANGED ASSAULT ON ANY WHO MIGHT BECOME THEIR PREY! NOW IF THE CONTESTANTS ARE READY?"
There was a moments pause.
"THEN RELEASE THE MANTICORES!"
With that the match was started and cages built into the wall on either end of the arena were opened. There was a quick shadow that left these cages, but vanished into the makeshift forest.
Before the Manticores were released and the match had begun she took the moment to approach Henry, worry and concern written on her face.
"I don't know how confident you are... But I think we double our chances of survival by working together... If you are any good with those weapons or any attack spells I can support you with my magic."
She appeared just as nervous as she felt. The announcer began outlining the rules of the competition.
"EACH CONTESTANT WILL BE REQUIRED TO DEAL WITH THE TWO MANTICORES THAT WILL BE RELEASED INTO THE ARENA. YOU MAY USE ANY WEAPONS OR MAGIC AT YOUR DISPOSAL, BUT YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO ATTACK EACHOTHER."
The Homunculus monologued a bit after this, "THESE MANTICORE ARE SAVAGE BEASTS, THEY HAVE WINGS BUT DO NOT WORRY! FOR THE SAFETY OF THIS EVENT THEIR WINGS HAVE BEEN CLIPPED. BUT BE AWARE, THEY SHOOT SPIKES FROM THEIR TAILS IN A DEVISTATING RANGED ASSAULT ON ANY WHO MIGHT BECOME THEIR PREY! NOW IF THE CONTESTANTS ARE READY?"
There was a moments pause.
"THEN RELEASE THE MANTICORES!"
With that the match was started and cages built into the wall on either end of the arena were opened. There was a quick shadow that left these cages, but vanished into the makeshift forest.
Before the Manticores were released and the match had begun she took the moment to approach Henry, worry and concern written on her face.
"I don't know how confident you are... But I think we double our chances of survival by working together... If you are any good with those weapons or any attack spells I can support you with my magic."
He had never really been one for shows or light entertainment especially not festivals, Nicodemus was more of a books and exploration type. Though that mattered little when the higher ups told you to be present and be presentable. Why exactly he had been chosen out of the seemingly infinite amount of tutors, teachers and researchers at the college he had no idea. Maybe he had simply been picked since he was absent, away on an archaeological expedition when the event was planned? Perhaps he had said the wrong thing to the wrong person, or perhaps the right thing to the right person, at this point it hardly mattered.
All he knew was that he was currently smack-dab in the middle of a large crowd of people and had been nursing the same beer for the last hour watching students go at it. He dabbed away a few drops of sweat that had formed around his nose. Clearly the meat the vendor had insisted was cow, had been something else entirely, considering the sound his stomach was making could rival that of the fight going on. A young female and male student, from the Ebony college and Vel Anir respectably was doing their best to take down a golem.
All this he had to endure instead of continuing his translations and studies of the last ruins they had uncovered. He had seen members of both the Elbon college and the Vel Anir around the area, but not really being a social creature he had opted to blend in with the crowded, as well as his college uniform would let him. (Last thing he wanted was to be dragged into an arguments or grandstanding.) Already somebody had spilled beer over part of his uniform and he wasn’t in the best of moods.
When he had first heard of the idea of “putting on a show” for the common man he had been appealed, it seemed like such an unnecessary thing to do. The common man could never truly appreciate the fine arts, and at most they’d cheer for a few fireballs thrown around. Hardly any grand magic. It seemed to him not just a waste of time but also a possible waste of students. He was uncertain what was worst.
Even so he would give the students their due, they were putting on a show and if nothing else the beast tamers had done their job proper. He had heard the crowed murmur of exotice beasts yet to be revealed. A few murmured about a manticore or possible even a basilisk. Perhaps the whole deal might actually help to raise the colleges somewhat shady reputation. He had even gotten to see a griffin pass by earlier, he had tried to keep an eye on it but lost it due to the crowd and tents. “Perhaps it’s my attitude that’s the issue?” He wondered to himself, before dismissing it and hurrying off to find the latrines.
All he knew was that he was currently smack-dab in the middle of a large crowd of people and had been nursing the same beer for the last hour watching students go at it. He dabbed away a few drops of sweat that had formed around his nose. Clearly the meat the vendor had insisted was cow, had been something else entirely, considering the sound his stomach was making could rival that of the fight going on. A young female and male student, from the Ebony college and Vel Anir respectably was doing their best to take down a golem.
All this he had to endure instead of continuing his translations and studies of the last ruins they had uncovered. He had seen members of both the Elbon college and the Vel Anir around the area, but not really being a social creature he had opted to blend in with the crowded, as well as his college uniform would let him. (Last thing he wanted was to be dragged into an arguments or grandstanding.) Already somebody had spilled beer over part of his uniform and he wasn’t in the best of moods.
When he had first heard of the idea of “putting on a show” for the common man he had been appealed, it seemed like such an unnecessary thing to do. The common man could never truly appreciate the fine arts, and at most they’d cheer for a few fireballs thrown around. Hardly any grand magic. It seemed to him not just a waste of time but also a possible waste of students. He was uncertain what was worst.
Even so he would give the students their due, they were putting on a show and if nothing else the beast tamers had done their job proper. He had heard the crowed murmur of exotice beasts yet to be revealed. A few murmured about a manticore or possible even a basilisk. Perhaps the whole deal might actually help to raise the colleges somewhat shady reputation. He had even gotten to see a griffin pass by earlier, he had tried to keep an eye on it but lost it due to the crowd and tents. “Perhaps it’s my attitude that’s the issue?” He wondered to himself, before dismissing it and hurrying off to find the latrines.
- Messages
- 8
- Character Biography
- Link
Feeling a pinch and tug on his robe, Ukrit stopped in his tracks. Mind running faster than a horse galloping he wondered what or who he’d bumped into. Had it been someone important? By the gods above Ukrit prayed it wasn’t one of the Dreadlord students. Biting his lower lip, sharp teeth on the verge of drawing blood the half-orc considered running. The issue with that being he’d be moving away from the tournament board which was only a couple of feet away from him.
Inwardly sighing the half-orc knew it was time to pay the piper. Turning around to the feminine voice Ukrit thought he recognized it. When he did finally see who it was his blood ran cold. He’d bumped into Phillipa Ebonheart. Who that attended the academy didn’t know who she was? The substantial influence she held sending fear to the depths of Ukrit. Ukrit had never attended one of mistress Ebonheart’s classes but he’d heard of her skills in magic that were far superior to his. Looking down to the outstretched hand the hybrid complied, there was no need to make things worse for himself than he already had.
“I do hope you can forgive me lady Ebonheart, I was just in a rush to see the board.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder Ukrit looked down and away from Phillipa’s eyes not wanting to meet them. Despite being well over a foot taller than the woman Ukrit was nervous. His right-foot tapping, his hands shoved deep within the confines of the robes.
Scolding himself Ukrit knew that if he hadn’t been so insistent on practicing as the tournament neared he wouldn’t have had to pay the cost of his vision. Thankfully over the week, it had returned for the most part but reading was still a struggle without his glasses. “Would you mind telling me if Ukrit Nahir is on the board, and what event he’s in?” The hybrid asked the smaller human woman behind him. (Sierra) Ukrit’s tone as gentle and comforting as he could make it. His voice a baritone that seemed to come from the deepest parts of his chest. He didn’t want to wait for madam Ebonheart to finish his glasses as he knew time was wearing thin. He’d have to count on the kindness of others.
Inwardly sighing the half-orc knew it was time to pay the piper. Turning around to the feminine voice Ukrit thought he recognized it. When he did finally see who it was his blood ran cold. He’d bumped into Phillipa Ebonheart. Who that attended the academy didn’t know who she was? The substantial influence she held sending fear to the depths of Ukrit. Ukrit had never attended one of mistress Ebonheart’s classes but he’d heard of her skills in magic that were far superior to his. Looking down to the outstretched hand the hybrid complied, there was no need to make things worse for himself than he already had.
“I do hope you can forgive me lady Ebonheart, I was just in a rush to see the board.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder Ukrit looked down and away from Phillipa’s eyes not wanting to meet them. Despite being well over a foot taller than the woman Ukrit was nervous. His right-foot tapping, his hands shoved deep within the confines of the robes.
Scolding himself Ukrit knew that if he hadn’t been so insistent on practicing as the tournament neared he wouldn’t have had to pay the cost of his vision. Thankfully over the week, it had returned for the most part but reading was still a struggle without his glasses. “Would you mind telling me if Ukrit Nahir is on the board, and what event he’s in?” The hybrid asked the smaller human woman behind him. (Sierra) Ukrit’s tone as gentle and comforting as he could make it. His voice a baritone that seemed to come from the deepest parts of his chest. He didn’t want to wait for madam Ebonheart to finish his glasses as he knew time was wearing thin. He’d have to count on the kindness of others.