Completed To think like them

[Salak]

Salak had the class gathered in the mess hall. The food arranged by special order. A modest feast of ham, poultry, venison, steamed carrot, turnip, pottage peas, baked haddock and minced tuna. Spiced wines of modest vintage, red and black. Arrayed apples, dates, green grapes, tomatoes and bowls of mixed hazelnut and walnuts and finally jugs of clear water.
He waited until they were all assembled before he rose to make a toast. A gesture he clearly thought was hilarious.

"To know the mind of your enemy is a great tool. You should learn to divine intent of anyone in order to survive.
Arranged before you is a modest feast the kind you may find yourselves at as Dreadlords. Perhaps a Viscount has invited you to dinner or it is a Military banquet, regardless, the purpose of this exercise is to suppose you have reason to believe you may be poisoned."
He smiled.
"Your task is to eat your fill without eating the poisoned food. Don't be too worried though. It's not lethal you're just going to be ill with vomiting and diarrhoea for a few days. It'll pass."
He took a sip of water before continuing.
"To succeed you will have to identify what I have poisoned and what I have left untouched. Use your wits and your cunning to find the answer but remember in such scenarios where you suspect poisoning to not spark suspicion in your host or others. Be subtle as you can and enjoy."

With that he sat and began helping himself to the tomatoes and haddock.

 

[Iscandor Karon]

"A lovely little feast you have here, Proctor." ​

Iscandor would say this from his position directly across from Salak, then giving him a genuine grin as thanks for switching up food from the regular lunch pavilion to this. As he listened to the teacher make threats about vomiting and the like, he wondered why the man did not consider that college magic was also taught to the initiates. Thusly, he began preparing "Purify Food and Drink" in his hand, ready to fully cure the first item he felt like grabbing that fine day.

That probably wasn't the point of the exercise, but besides manually curing the food there was more than one way to avoid suspicion, safer options than risking safety on a bunch of educated guesses. Taking this thought process into consideration, when the whole thing started, he noticed the proctor himself was partaking in the meal. Due to this, he made up his mind to observe Salak and intercept the food the man was going for. Obviously, he knew all of the answers on the merit of being the creator of the test.

Obviously, on real scenarios, the second idea would not work. Instead, the man planned an alternative tactic of asking a servant to taste the food before he did so himself. This angle was kind of annoying, and the mana loss coming from the purification spell was negligible, but there were people who lived in parts of the world that hated magic and took great offense to having their honor questioned.

Either way, there was no chance he went into this blindly. He, for one, found many days in the infirmary a less than appealing proposition.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Arranged with the other Initiates for Proctor Salak's lesson, Kristen stood in her usual prim way: straight posture, hands clasped demurely before her, chin level. All of the food looked nice, of course; if there was one thing which could be said of the Academy, and which was true according to all she heard from more seasoned Initiates, it was that the food was never lacking. Whether or not said seasoned Initiates actually got to partake of the Academy's cuisine was a different matter (many a harrowing tale of forced starvation!), but yes, the food itself was fit for a noble's table, mayhap even the table of Anirian royalty. There were even some cheeky jests about the Academy's food being the reason why a great many Dreadlords skewed toward being of astounding physique and looming stature.

But right now, in the moment after Proctor Salak finished his brief of the lesson he'd crafted for the Initiates, none of this food looked very appetizing. Kristen paled slightly.

You have reason to believe you may be poisoned.

Gods, it brought to mind Marcus Pirian, one of her father's great-great-grand-uncles. He had been poisoned, so Father had said, at a banquet not unlike any of the scenarios Proctor Salak had described, and he had perished from it. The assassin was never caught, but naturally House Banick was suspected as being behind the plot. Marcus's death marked the last time a poisoning had taken a life within House Pirian. By Aionus, Kristen didn't want through carelessness to be the next to receive so grim an accolade.

Kristen sat down at the table, as did others among the Initiates gathered (of whom Iscandor was one, who notably was possessed of a spell that Kristen herself had not learned, much less practiced or mastered). She didn't have any way of magically protecting herself or of magically deducing what was safe and what was not. She'd but her wits and cunning, as Proctor Salak himself had said.

The first thing of note for Kristen was the resounding caution to not touch anything Proctor Salak himself had touched. In normal circumstances at a normal banquet, this likely wouldn't have been much of a worry. But this was not a normal banquet, this was a lesson, a test, and its circumstances were its own, and part of said circumstances was the inescapable knowledgeable of Proctor Salak himself. Where a Proctor like Proctor Magomo was very hands-on and physical with Kristen and other Initiates, Proctor Salak, due to the nature of his magic, was not. Kristen didn't know the specifics, but generalities were enough.

So the tomatoes, the haddock, and that one jug of water; don't touch any of those.

Kristen, keeping up with the mock atmosphere of a polite dinner, said to Iscandor, "Could you pass me one of the green apples? Oh, I do adore them."

Salak Iscandor Karon

 

[Iscandor Karon]

As he finally stopped scheming and planning, he heard Kristen ask for a green apple. Well, he had the spell already cooked up, and she was one of the only women nice to him on the mission, so he purified the apple before giving it to her. "Of course, Lady Pirian." He'd say this with all the formality one might expect from an attending Dreadlord, managing to keep in all of his laughter for the sake of the exercise.

Unfortunately, purifying didn't really seem efficient, so he switched to another college magic, one that he didn't only get a single use of: Detect Poison and Disease. Suddenly, every food item within 30 feet either looked the same or had an repulsive green aura around them, having been marked by the spell.

Weirdly, the one who got marked by the spell the most was Salak himself. He seemed to be fine, though. In a facepalm moment, Iscandor realized that meant he could digest poisons. The proctor would not be a good source of information, because all this food was either normal food or normal food with harmless poison in it to him. I'm...really stupid, falling for that so easily. Obviously the Proctor wouldn't be of any help, nitwit. When he finally quit lambasting himself for being so confident in such a worthless plan, he'd glance over to the tomatoes and haddock and see for himself that even though he could tell some were fine among the mostly likely many poisoned units, it wasn't exactly clear which was which given the aura of the spell kind of covered the whole dish.

Mentally noting that poison was something he had to be much smarter to deal with than bullies like Leander or Flavien, he'd simply take a bunch of unpoisoned grapes and pick them off one by one, knowing that the longer he had plausible reason to stall, the less likely he was to be forced by unwritten social rules to immediately pile on more food. On the topic of those rules in particular, Iscandor had always found it strange how much food was wasted at big dinners and parties.

It was as if the people who came to an event thought it was appropriate to put more than they knew they could eat on a plate and feel fine when uneaten chicken or bread could very well give a hungry child on the streets one more day in the world. Shaking that sad thought out of his mind, he refocused and remembered that not all of Vel Anir was on good terms with the idea of the Dreadlords. There was still a lot of anti-Dreadlord sentiment out there, or so he had heard.

That meant that one day, this situation might be real, no matter how hard Iscandor worked in his life not to piss others off(Those he did didn't understand his side of the story). He gave a long look at poisoned and non-poisoned items before him and slowly began to think that perhaps practicing without magic would be net him a better grade than simply circumventing the entire challenge.

Salak Kristen Pirian

 

[Leander Urahil]

Leander sat at the table with a begrudging look on his face that just wouldn’t leave no matter how much he knew he should look indifferent to this test. Proctor Salak, another dreadlord who used poison or whatever else they liked to call it. Leander wasn’t sure if he’d prefer Proctor Ebersol over Proctor Salak, it seemed both were the sort of proctors that liked poisoning the students if they chose the wrong option.

One was better looking than the other, though.

Pale eyes overlooked the table before glancing at the proctor and then the other initiates. He didn’t want to fail this. But the issue was how was he supposed to succeed? Proctor Salak started on the haddock and tomatoes, so was that a sign that those foods were safe or that they were dangerous? The poison wouldn’t affect him so maybe he would eat the poisonous foods, playing on the idea of taste tester and cupbearer.

Should he try watching the other initiates then before he went to grab anything? His gaze immediately fell to Sue who was a vegetarian and not touching the meat. He could see if she got sick— but if she did, then what food was poisoned?

Maybe he was thinking about all of this all wrong? What if none of the food was poisoned, at least not originally. Maybe it only got poisoned after Proctor Salak put it on his plate and the key to winning was eating anything that he hadn’t touched yet? No, no, that sounded smugly sneaky and tricky and overall annoying, and therefore, it suited another poison puff instead of Proctor Salak.

But there was one another thing! When would the poison take place? Immediately? Minutes later? An hour? Hours? Surely his best plan was to see what everyone else was eating. Iscandor was choosing the grapes, okay, perfect. So if neither Sue or Iscandor got sick then that meant the grapes were safe!

They were also eating other things. What if the walnuts were poisoned? Sue was eating walnuts. So if Iscandor didn’t get sick it meant the walnuts were poisoned. He grinned. He could sit back, make a mental list of what everyone ate, then used those lists to….

Oh who was he kidding? Leander was smart enough, not as dumb as some other initiates in his class, but it wasn’t like his memory was all that great. He had to use flash cards whenever he studied for a test by Proctor Palahniuk and even then he felt like he still didn’t know half of the stuff. A great sigh left his body.

Was it the order of the food? A pattern? Leander stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. His eyes went over the arrangement. Was it by color? Food group? Whether it was cooked or not? Maybe by shape? Or smell? Or taste? Or… or… or….?

“How on Arethil am I supposed to think like you?” Leander exclaimed as he sat back down on his chair. Nothing was making sense and he felt a frustration unlike any he had felt before. He felt set up. He felt betrayed. And worse of all, he felt unable to complete the task at hand and it seemed anything he did would result in failure.

He’d much rather have a test on how to kill each other with poison instead of figuring out what was poisoned or not.

 

[Salak]

Salak chewed and swallowed, looking up to watch the Initiates as they chose or failed to choose yet.
Initiate Iscandor.
The faint whiff of College Magic was about him.
This was not a test of magical use. He did not know what spell was being used but he could guess given the circumstances. Yet for all the lads massive power and ability he lacked subtly which was the aim of the exercise after all.
*Too rash Initiate.* He thought.
He took another bite. Initiate Kristen was clearly weighing her options.
He heard about her deductive reasoning from Everleigh and was interested to see how she would react. Caution but not overly so.
Getting someone to pass food was a clever choice. A rube to touch it and if she was patient to divine wether poisoned and shift focus if it was.
Then Leander spoke after Iscandor had used yet more College Magic.
Too bad he coud only try to solve the poison, not the problem.
Leander's question was undoubtedly unsubtle but Salak liked to think of himself as of a giving vein.
"Well..." He replied to the strapping lad as he took a sip of water.
"What do you know of me? What do I prize and whom do I serve?"
He took another bite and chewed, speaking through the side of his mouth as fish flesh mashed in his cheek.
"For it is in knowing my goal that you will know what is poisoned."
Salak swallowed and smiled a bit at Leander.
"In other words, what do I want right now?"
He was wondering if he gave it away yet. Surely some would stumble onto exactly what was poisoned but that wasn't enough. They had to figure it out for themselves, the had to also know the why of it.

Iscandor Karon Leander Urahil Kristen Pirian

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Lady Pirian. Something she was not called very often after having enrolled into the Academy, only sparingly so whenever she was out on a mission and by chance she was recognized. Still, it was a welcome address to her ears, for admittedly she did miss it so.

"Thank you, Iscandor."

She accepted the apple, and, inescapably, Kristen suffered a moment's hesitation. Only a moment's worth, so...hopefully it didn't appear too jarring for any who might have looked her way; this was, after all, intended to be a mock banquet and formal occasion, so all the rules of regular decorum ought be observed. And loath was she to potentially insult a host! Though, Aionus forbid if in some forsaken circumstance in the future it turned out to actually be the host himself with malicious intent.

Kristen bit into the apple right as soon as Leander, frustrated with the whole exercise, made his exclamation. Kristen glanced his way, wondering if such a question as he asked was allowed. Whatever the case, Proctor Salak patiently indulged him, and revealed the tiniest of hints and the subtlest of guidance, these now available for every Initiate's benefit by Leander's prompting. Gosh, but what to make of it? What did Proctor Salak prize, and whom did he serve? What did he want right now? Kristen considered herself fortunate merely to know that his magic pertained to poison, even if all other, more particular, facts about it eluded her. She'd have to think. Eat and carry on with the mock dinner and all the while think.

Kristen finished her apple and set the core on her plate.

"Fresh from the orchard. Lovely," she commented of the apple. And, with one hand, she surreptitiously tapped Iscandor's leg. Signed in the Dreadlord sign language beneath the table, unseen to all save him, should he look down: Maybe good. She didn't feel as though the apples had been contaminated, but who knew? Regardless, Kristen believed communication here was a strength.

"Mayhap I shall try the pottage peas and carrots," she said in general, bidding her time by pouring herself a cup of water from a fresh jug.

Salak Iscandor Karon Leander Urahil

 

[Iscandor Karon]

"My pleasure, nothing to thank me for," He would reply as formally as possible. Then, suddenly sensing many little taps on his leg, he would drop his fork off of the edge of the table and look down as if to react to the noise of it falling, instead receiving Kristen's secret message. He'd pop up his head while also signing under the table with multiple different sets of leg taps: Me. Purify. Maybe not good. It sucked to reveal his strategy, but at least she would not go on ahead thinking they were fine and get poisoned. Realizing he couldn't just purify everything without ruining the entire point, he decided to participate in the actual activity. Tweaking the aura around the poisonous things, it entirely faded. He would try to figure it out first, and then bring the aura back to life. If there was no aura, he would put the food on the plate. If not, he would simply leave it be.

He began to take apart the answers to Leander's outburst, quickly realizing that only small amounts of information were handed out during Salak's response. What do I know of him? Well, within the context of this situation, he is the host and wants to poison us. Iscandor would straighten up, look Salak in the eye, and say something odd. Odd to ask someone you suspected of trying to poison you anyway, which was this: "Proctor Salak, as the host, you must know the menu like the back of your hand. What would you recommend I try?"

This exercise is in poisoning, so the Proctor would be left with two options: Ignore the question or change the subject, which would be suspicious and not to mention rude decorum for a party, or answer. If he was to answer, Iscandor would then be the one to need to make a decision. Those options were a trio: Anticipate Salak was trying to trick him into eating things other than his answered foods and eat his suggested morsels or do the opposite and not eat any of them. Iscandor knew he could also watch what others decided to do with the information and wait to make a decision.

In the first two options, Iscandor was evidently on the back foot given how each of them were essentially guesses, so he leaned back and began observing the others. Finally, he thought of another question to ask. What does he prize? Well, he's having this party for a reason, and perhaps his intent could be revealed through asking why such a grand event is taking place. Once again, he would focus on the professor, giving him the same cordial and conversational eye contact he had before. "Ah, besides the food you most enjoy of the selection, why such a fancy event? We are nothing but lowly Dreadlords, so I do not see why such a grand spectacle is necessary."

Pausing, he would employ one more tactic. Kristen had been wise to communicate with him, but that spirit would need to be taken a step forward. Lightly patting her on the shoulder as if to subtly get attention, he would sign one last thing: Work together? After this short message, he would begin to brood a bit, stewing in his rapidly moving thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he would slow everything down and admit what was obviously true:

Salak is too smart for me to out-think without working for it.​

Kristen Pirian Salak

 

[Salak]

Salak looked at Iscandor and smiled.
What a question. Maybe there was a mind under that ludicrous amount of power.
"I enjoy seafood, so I would recommend the tuna or haddock. I hear the black wine is good as well though I confess I do not drink."
He was about to get back to his own modest helping when Iscandor asked another question and Salak's tone became sharp as glass shards.
"You are not Dreadlords Initiate. This is training, not play pretend. Take care, stolen valour is frowned upon most grievously in these halls. Despite your various successes none of you have earned that title. Not yet."
His green eyes laced themselves with silent threats too terrible to give words to.
"To answer your question I thought it a good idea to treat you to a pleasant meal. I've heard good things about all your studies and am a firm believer in rewarding effort, and punishing carelessness."
His eyes narrowed on Iscandor as he placed his knife and fork down on the table then wiped his mouth.
"Now, eat the tuna Initiate!"
He knew he was picking on Iscandor now but the Initiate had dared to call himself Dreadlord in his presence. Perhaps this could be an extra lesson in humility.

Leander Urahil Kristen Pirian Iscandor Karon

 

[Leander Urahil]

“Well... What do you know of me? What do I prize and whom do I serve For it is in knowing my goal that you will know what is poisoned. In other words, what do I want right now?"

Well that wasn’t helpful whatsoever. These simple questions were just as confusing as the task at hand. Leander knew very little about Proctor Salak. Leander knew very little about every proctor at the Academy. What did Salak prize? Who knew. Who did he serve? Easy: Vel Anir. So one question of the three was answer, but that single answer did very little in explaining what it was that Salak wanted.

Pirian and Iscandor spoke. For whatever reason, their voices irritated him. Especially Pirian’s. At least Iscandor was asking for further clarification to maybe help make this make sense.

“Pirian.” Leander said as he reached over, grabbing the ladle for the pottage peas and then scooping up a heaping helping. Steam wafted up from the peas. Leander didn’t like peas. “How about next time you just serve yourself and shut up?” He then plopped the helping onto Kristen’s plate. The sound it made had Leander grimacing.

There was no way he was eating any peas when they looked and smelled like that.

Leander went for the ham. That was the farthest thing from seafood wasn’t it? And Salak hadn’t touched it yet. He may never even go for it.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Me. Purify. Maybe not good.

Gah! That was right! Iscandor had used a bit of magic, hadn't he? Had her anxiety narrowed her attention to detail so much? By focusing on one thing, she felt as though she blinded herself to other things. Such mistakes, despite this one in particular being benign, would lead to the failure of this lesson (and a most awful few days to follow!) if she allowed it to continue.

Another covert sign under the table, witnessed by Kristen as she innocuously adjusted herself in her seat: Work together? And the quick response: Yes. If anything could help overcome the stress which tunneled her vision, so to speak, it was another pair of eyes. And certainly, in a real scenario akin to this, cooperation would be paramount.

Proctor Salak had for Iscandor a reprimand which caused a few other Initiates at the table to freeze (the dire practices of old, the supreme authority and menace of the Proctors, were never far in their minds), but Kristen missed much of it. Leander had an interjection just for her.

"Leander!" Kristen said, recoiling a little from the peas slopped onto her plate, so sudden was it all. And hotly she spoke further, "Is this what passes for manners among the House of Urahil?"

Well, she had actually been intent on trying the peas, but now there was a stigma attached to them. In what perhaps made for an odd sight, Kristen angrily drank from her cup of water, as if such an action could possibly be viewed as threatening, still glaring sidelong at Leander all the while.

What progress she may or may not have made within her mind in unraveling Proctor Salak's prompting questions was all undone in the moment, a fuzzy and bitterly red haze of irritation clouding her thoughts instead.

Salak Iscandor Karon Leander Urahil

 

[Iscandor Karon]

The initiate was surprised by the Proctor's sudden outburst, but then smiled. He had heard the entire rant and began breaking it down in his head, ignoring the command to eat what was just revealed to be obviously poisoned. Back to the three questions: What do I know of him? What does he prize and whom does he serve? What does he want? Well, he has revealed to me already that the Tuna, Haddock, and Black Wine are poisoned given he told me to eat the tuna in his rage, so I will assume the tomatoes are likewise poisoned. Iscandor would coolly look at the proctor, and say something meant to get him even more exasperated than he already was.

"You suggested the Tuna, so I would, but I am allergic to certain things and Tuna is one of them. Anything else you would propose besides fish? I do so thank you for your graciousness, Proctor, and am sorry for the trouble." This ruse was easily see-through, but he hoped Salak would be too busy trying to clear his mind from the earlier remark and tell him to eat something like a vegetable perhaps. As he did, he went back to the questions: What do I know of him? Well, he hates people calling themselves Dreadlords unless they are Dreadlords, even in a training for a situation most likely to occur when they were one day Dreadlords. He also rewards effort and punishes carelessness.

This meant two things, and he imagined Salak saying them: I will help you if you try hard, and the quick way out will only ever be a dead end. Switching back to his own point of view, he began to use that context to translate into strategy. That means that when he smiled he was telling me honestly what was poisoned. However, in terms of bad news, that also means the most basic strategies are out of the question, because the Proctor might have ran over this problem and how he would do it, therefore anticipating our first guesses. When he finally snapped out of his thinking state, Leander was dumping pottage peas and carrots onto Kirsten's plate.

He gaped in shock as the food landed, wondering how Leander could be so rash. He had been irritated like this before, and even then there was no stupid reaction like this at first. Then, he went for the ham, a move the young man could not understand either. There were literally two reasons to support the thought that the ham was safe, which was the fact that the Proctor had not touched it and the fact that it wasn't seafood. Those reasons, while not nothing, did not cut it to him and suspected Salak might share a similar opinion.

Sighing, he'd put his hand on Kristen's left pauldron and lean in towards her ear, at once noticing her eyebrows furrow angrily while she drank the water. Once close enough, he would speak in a whisper, trying to convince her to stay in top shape: "Focus, Pirian. He's going to get a bad grade and probably also get poisoned because he doesn't take the time to think and can't act subtly or with manners. You on the other hand are not like that, and I can see it...well enough. Can you?"

Salak Kristen Pirian Leander Urahil

 

[Salak]

Salak gritted his teeth.
"Initiate Iscandor, do not make me repeat myself."
Such a bare faced lie could not go unanswered. If he had attempted something more suave maybe but Salak would only believe when he saw the tongue swell in Iscandor's mouth.
He did not take his eyes from the Initiate even as he was speaking to Kristen.
When he was finished he waited. Steepled his fingers and watched, letting his very simple threat hang in the air.
He had let the humanity drain from his face. It was a mask of contempt now.

Iscandor Karon Leander Urahil Kristen Pirian

 

[Leander Urahil]

Did she dare glare at him? Not like he got any of the pea-slop on her attire. Maybe he should have— no, no, that wouldn’t have served him well. He rolled his eyes at Kristen and then lifted up his fork to clearly show her the wooden handle and the dull shine of whatever cheap metal was used to make the three prongs.

“In the Urahil household,” Leander spat back, “we use fine china and silver so forgive me if I use the manners that suits this cheap imitation.” He went back to cutting up the slice of ham that filled over half his plate. He paused, just as he was about to take the first bite of ham. “Punishing carelessness.” He repeated after Salak, moments later but it had only then occurred to him the certain magnitude around those words.

“You’re right, Pirian. Perhaps all my years at the Academy made me forget my manners. I apologize for my rude behavior.” Never against lying, Leander glanced at Kristen and then over at the tuna. The tuna was clearly poisoned. Leander began serving himself other things, the peas and even the turnips and carrots. A handful of the walnuts. Even a portion of the minced tuna.

Then, as he saw his twin do countless of times before, he began to mimic the frantic cutting and slicing of various items while hiding other items in other places and only taking a bite (of the ham and carrots and only of these things) while looking like he was eating a lot more than he actually was.

Salak Kristen Pirian Iscandor Karon

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Truly, was there a man or woman upon Arethil possessed of such saintly patience necessary to endure the storm of Leander's pompous blustering with unbroken grace? Kristen herself, only human, lacked such a divine quality, and all too ready was she to forget herself and to forget Salak's lesson and merely engage in the petty exchange of retorts and vitriol—this especially so after Leander's (in her opinion) flimsy and even mocking apology.

Iscandor broke her overbearing focus on Leander and the ire inspired thereby. Focus, Pirian...can you?

Those embers of indignation cooled, and Kristen took in a small breath through her nose. She felt a touch shamed, and rightly so, for the shame was a marker that she had tempted wrongdoing and acted therefore as pain to provoke a correction of course. To Iscandor she nodded, tiny little motions of her head, and whispered back, "Yes, I can."

And though last time he had gently refused her thanks, she nevertheless said it again: "Thank you."

Now at last she could see the incredibly icy look on Proctor Salak's expression. Something had...not gone right, but she didn't know what, distracted as she had been. It was all she could do to continue with the lesson. The peas on her plate she resolved not to touch (Lord, the nerve of him!) and so she looked over the feast once more. Of the meats, what was least likely to be poisoned? Well, probably the selection that was least popular, yes? Ham, poultry, venison, all fine selections which consistently adorned a noble's table. Tuna, on the other hand, was a rarer selection, even more so for cities far from the sea, and it was also something of an acquired taste. Couldn't go wrong there, right?

The tuna within reach, Kristen began to serve herself a portion, delicately placing a helping onto her plate.

Salak Iscandor Karon Leander Urahil

 

[Iscandor Karon]

Iscandor ate the tuna and also prepared protection from poison at the same time, not thinking it wise to keep Salak waiting. (Really short just to move this along cuz I'm planning a big post if the tuna is poisoned)

 

[Salak]

"There, now was that so difficult?"
Salak resumed eating his half finished haddock.
Quietly remarking to himself the third use of college magic in this exercise.
Without looking up he continued.
"Initiate Iscandor you have failed this exercise. I did not permit you the use of magic. You are excused."
He was too obvious and college magic did not solve the problem. Even if he had managed to hide it he could purify the whole table but he wouldn't have figured out what was poisoned.
Salak poured himself more water and supped it. He was feeling rather disappointed in Iscandor but the lad had to learn to use more than his magic to solve problems.

Iscandor Karon Kristen Pirian Leander Urahil

 

[Iscandor Karon]

"You never expressly prohibited it, either. I know why you want us to figure this out without the use of magic, but explain to me this: In the real world, these situations will occur, and magic will be fully available to us." Iscandor, in general, tried his best not to piss proctors off, but he wasn't going to be looked down upon for completely fulfilling the requirements of a test, not even by someone as smart and cunning as Salak. Iscandor's eyes narrowed as he stated everything above. It was nothing less than what one might call a direct challenge.
Salak wanted him to use things like Logic and reasoning? Well, he would, just this time not on the assignment.

"The spells I am using right now are ones I would use in the very scenario: I just used protection from poison to potentially safeguard against being forced to eat something I think is poisoned, I turned down Detect Poison and Disease to try and figure this out but that one also lets me inform my teammates of what is what. Finally, I purified the food because I felt like it, but now I realize I also have a countermeasure for if the food is laced on the outside instead of inside." He would say this calmly, allowing the man time to digest his words. He finally bent his knee a little, saying some of what he was sure Salak wanted to hear: "When I am a Dreadlord, I will most likely need to use magic creatively. This is a situation where such techniques could be applied. This world doesn't give us power only for us to refuse to use it."

Finally, it was time to cut the crap, and Iscandor did so quickly: "I simply misunderstand your logic here, Proctor, and won't allow myself to leave until you start being less vague."

 

[Salak]

Salak smiled a little and this time he didn't look up.
"You try my patience Initiate. A reliance on magical power is not strength. It is weakness. When you have no need to use magic you should not. That way you keep your hand unseen."
Then he looked up and met Iscandor's eyes. In his he held only contempt for once again Iscandor had presumed that he shall ever become a Dreadlord.
"I instructed you to be subtle did I not? You were caught. So try to understand Initiate..." he hardened the word in his teeth, making an insult of it.
"... that you failed not because you used magic but because I noticed."
Then he got back to his meal and waited for the inevitable.

Iscandor Karon Leander Urahil Kristen Pirian

 

[Iscandor Karon]

"Incorrect. You never stated that we HAD to be subtle, never ever. You tasked us with being as subtle as we could be." He grinned now, honestly enjoying the verbal battle. Most of the initiates in the school trained for battle, and didn't do quite as well on their studies, or perhaps only those he went on missions with (this excludes everyone on Incursion) didn't. Nobody, as far as he was concerned, beat Salak on brains. Salak looked physically weak, gray-skinned and thin, but that was no reason for underestimating him. Given his power, he had to be the most intelligent Dreadlord there was currently working as a proctor, or he would never get shit done. It was fun.

"I take things very literally, and you will have to be more specific next time. Still, I don't believe you have any right to kick me out given I was working with half-formed instructions." His tone would have a bit of bite to it, countering the proctor’s insult to his intellect with his own. “Besides, you have been constantly picking on me since I made the, I have to admit, mistake of calling myself Dreadlord. I don’t think your pride is in the right place right now, but why?”

A small, crazy idea entered his head as he continued to mull over the Proctor’s past coldness, and he at first thought he was making some sort of mistake. Then, he thought more. The Dreadlord Program was an insanely grueling task, and Salak was not impressive physically nor a gem to look at. These aren’t things people tend to care about when it comes to stealth and trickery, but on the open battlefield or head-on combat, as most missions involve, they mean something.

If this was the case, though, how had he become a proctor tasked with teaching the next generation? Well, it was a crazy theory, em but scarily possible. His mind flickered for a second over the main idea and it formed into a concrete thought: Salak never became a Dreadlord due to his physical traits and “unique” looks since the Academy must keep public opinion in check, but he’s far too dangerous an enemy in terms of smarts and stealthy killing, meaning he ultimately couldn’t be let go.

He’d save such a thought for a last resort, but now he could not slip up and use such forceful methods. “Besides, you yourself are a special case in terms of host. I know for sure most people can’t even begin to comprehend magic, much less sense it, which is why the Dreadlords as an organization are special people and not just regular citizens.” He’d say this with a calm expression, seeming totally bored now. He’d look up, and put out one hand in surrender.

“I don’t quite feel like fighting anymore. Might we be able to make a deal? I will dispel all of my magic and never use it for this exercise again, and in exchange I get one more chance. Then, if I am unable to be subtle, I will leave the table and wait outside in total humiliation. Fair?”

 

[Salak]

Heedless disobedience.
Not that he didn't think rebellion was a fine spirit to possess but this Initiate seemed only out to protect his own ego.
And offering a deal?
A Dreadlord does not make bargains with Initiates who disrespect them at their own table.
Salak said nothing but merely looked down on Iscandor with contempt.
Mentally he was dreaming up ways to bring this pup to heel.
Perhaps he would recommend private lessons with Proctor Harkenov or start a motion to have him stationed with the Guard for a year. Since he liked taking direct orders.
After a while he did say something.
"Your inability to follow my instruction is your own failure. Your refusal to follow command to leave is another and you gaul to suggest I would accept such a bargain after your lack of respect for my position is a third."
He leaned forward then with a menacingly furious glint to his eyes.
"You are not fit to be given the title of Dreadlord Initiate and you never will until you understand what we are. Now, will I need to repeat myself?"

Iscandor Karon Kristen Pirian Leander Urahil

 

[Iscandor Karon]

“Alright. I guess that makes sense." He'd finally tire, realizing that he was now disobeying fully formed orders, which made him a hypocrite. If there was anything he had learned from this, it was far more valuable than how to detect poison. In this place, you must follow orders until you are the one making them. With that, he left the room, planning to take the little break to really absorb what he had just figured out.

[Iscandor has left]

(Honestly I need to take a thread off so this is fine lol, and Idk how to solve Salak's task so haha this isn't my fault if ya'll chars get poisoned (/j))

 

[Leander Urahil]

“Well now it’s starting to feel like a Urahil family dinner.” Leander commented once Iscandor left. There was nothing he could have said while the initiate and proctor shared their exchange. His pale gaze had moved back and forth between the two, hanging onto every word they said and wondering who would win. Should it have been any surprise that Proctor Salak had won?

Leander resumed his rapid cutting of any food on his plate, a welter of stabbing and slicing portions that were already small to begin with and making them smaller. Still the blonde would only eat the ham and the peas that he figured himself were safe, meanwhile the tuna continued to be pressed more and more onto the outside of his plate.

Kristen Pirian Salak

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen, like every other Initiate, sat in rigid silence as the exchange between Proctor Salak and Iscandor progressed. At several points throughout the verbal spar did she desperately wish to intervene, to try to gently ease Iscandor back from the precipice towards which he was walking. He was in that moment severely out of line, bereft of military bearing, perhaps cajoled into such foolishness by his sense of pride. But it could not be helped, for even Kristen, with so little time spent at the Academy in comparison to all the Initiates around her, knew better than to test or undermine the authority of a Proctor. He would be at Proctor Salak's mercy.

Gods, what came to mind was Lumen's even more foolish outburst against Proctor Ebersol. At least it had not come to that here, and, further, it was only by Proctor Salak's good graces that Iscandor was allowed to leave with but a stern reprimand and not anything worse.

Now with Iscandor gone, however, Kristen was left without anyone to her right...and with Leander Urahil to her left (who just then made a quip about the apparently miserable affairs of his family). What a woeful circumstance to now befall her! The one Initiate with whom she had managed to form a team to face this lesson was now gone, and, well, Aionus would sooner return to Arethil before she made such an accord with Leander, so heated was she still from his appalling lack of manners and overbearing attitude.

What else was left for her now?

Kristen ate the tuna on her plate, by herself, in silence.

Salak Leander Urahil

 

[Salak]

Salak ate in silence of a moment, as he was finishing up his meal he spoke.
"Well, that was delicious. I don't often go for something this grand but I enjoyed it."
When he had placed his knife and fork on his plate and put it to the side he put his hands together on the table and looked about at the various amounts of eaten and uneaten food.
"If any of you have figured out exactly what is and is not poisoned you may speak so now. There's not much point in keeping it going, you all have places to be and even if not I certainly do."
His tone was polite but kind as if he was asking how their day was.

Leander Urahil Kristen Pirian