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“I can’t believe I’m back out in the boonies,” Proctor Palahniuk complained openly to the initiates riding on their horses beside him.
Leander Urahil couldn’t believe that he had even been picked to go out here in the first place. Especially for a mission that seemed… well, for a mission that didn’t seem to need a dreadlord’s or an initiate’s personal touch. Some brat in some backwater town called Arnim apparently needed a whole entourage to go to the Academy. Leander understood that he hadn’t been on many missions lately, or missions that took him far away from the Academy.
Why couldn’t they use him for something more exciting? He was chomping at the bit to prove himself to the prodigy he was meant to be. Edric was gone, there was a spot open to be the deadliest initiate and he wanted it before Caeso or Maseno claimed it for themselves. If they weren’t nobility he suspected, with Odessa’s help, that a freak accident could happen. Bye bye competition, hello academy recognition.
“The last time I was here, ugh, it was such a mess.” Proctor Palahniuk continued to prattle on. “I hope none of you waste valuable time like Initiate Casto— I mean, Dreadlord Castomir and Initiate Eber— I mean, Proctor Pro-tempore Ebersol… ugh, do you all smell that?” Just like last time, Proctor P raised his hand to his face, using his cloak’s sleeve as a mask. “When I get back, I am making a formal complaint. Or I am going to officially resign and just take a nice paycheck from the reserves.”
Leander said nothing, instead looking straight ahead at the buildings growing closer and closer. He couldn’t quite see Kresselring Ranch just yet. It seemed that despite the ranch being the most notable thing in Arnim, which was obviously undeserving of the grand title of ‘Vel’ before it, that plenty of the inhabitants owned their own personal gardens and livestock. In truth, this ranch was known for providing Vel Anir with a majority of goods that went beyond just meat and dairy— cowhide and bristles for clothing or brushes, bones for serving ware among the poor. In fact, Leander remembered a long-gone proctor who used to covet cattle gallstones just to have fun at the brothels. Did Arnim sell those aphrodisiacs here? It would be funny to trick a initiate into eating them if so.
Especially if it was a goodie-two-shoes like Lumen. Maybe he could bring her back a souvenir…
“I met the kid last year also, couldn’t do any magic whatsoever.” Proctor Palahniuk continued, not that Leander was listening much. For every good piece of information there was definitely a half dozen complains woven in between. “If I get there and he can’t perform a simple arcane spark— mark my words, initiates, I am leaving him there and the Council can walk their lazy asses all the way to Arnim themselves. Waste of my valuable time.” He continued grumbling on, before adding, “unless Kelly is cooking. Country girls can cook like their lives depend on it. But still…”
Leander continued to tune the proctor over before leaning over to whisper to another initiate,
“You think Proctor Palahniuk will let us take a piss break?”
Leander Urahil couldn’t believe that he had even been picked to go out here in the first place. Especially for a mission that seemed… well, for a mission that didn’t seem to need a dreadlord’s or an initiate’s personal touch. Some brat in some backwater town called Arnim apparently needed a whole entourage to go to the Academy. Leander understood that he hadn’t been on many missions lately, or missions that took him far away from the Academy.
Why couldn’t they use him for something more exciting? He was chomping at the bit to prove himself to the prodigy he was meant to be. Edric was gone, there was a spot open to be the deadliest initiate and he wanted it before Caeso or Maseno claimed it for themselves. If they weren’t nobility he suspected, with Odessa’s help, that a freak accident could happen. Bye bye competition, hello academy recognition.
“The last time I was here, ugh, it was such a mess.” Proctor Palahniuk continued to prattle on. “I hope none of you waste valuable time like Initiate Casto— I mean, Dreadlord Castomir and Initiate Eber— I mean, Proctor Pro-tempore Ebersol… ugh, do you all smell that?” Just like last time, Proctor P raised his hand to his face, using his cloak’s sleeve as a mask. “When I get back, I am making a formal complaint. Or I am going to officially resign and just take a nice paycheck from the reserves.”
Leander said nothing, instead looking straight ahead at the buildings growing closer and closer. He couldn’t quite see Kresselring Ranch just yet. It seemed that despite the ranch being the most notable thing in Arnim, which was obviously undeserving of the grand title of ‘Vel’ before it, that plenty of the inhabitants owned their own personal gardens and livestock. In truth, this ranch was known for providing Vel Anir with a majority of goods that went beyond just meat and dairy— cowhide and bristles for clothing or brushes, bones for serving ware among the poor. In fact, Leander remembered a long-gone proctor who used to covet cattle gallstones just to have fun at the brothels. Did Arnim sell those aphrodisiacs here? It would be funny to trick a initiate into eating them if so.
Especially if it was a goodie-two-shoes like Lumen. Maybe he could bring her back a souvenir…
“I met the kid last year also, couldn’t do any magic whatsoever.” Proctor Palahniuk continued, not that Leander was listening much. For every good piece of information there was definitely a half dozen complains woven in between. “If I get there and he can’t perform a simple arcane spark— mark my words, initiates, I am leaving him there and the Council can walk their lazy asses all the way to Arnim themselves. Waste of my valuable time.” He continued grumbling on, before adding, “unless Kelly is cooking. Country girls can cook like their lives depend on it. But still…”
Leander continued to tune the proctor over before leaning over to whisper to another initiate,
“You think Proctor Palahniuk will let us take a piss break?”