Fantasy Chivalry: Academy for Future Knights

[Killigrew]

The stance Jakob had prodded and wrestled her into was rigid as an ice sculpture through Mal's body. She kept it trembling-still as Jakob and Armel exchanged dialogue, concentrating on memorizing exactly the width of her feet, the angle of her back, and the extension of her arm. Mal's lungs started to burn, and she gasped in a breath, her leg jerking forward as she did. She pulled it back in, glaring at it, thinking at it to stay in line. Her head raised as Jakob announced their sparring. She nodded to him, taking a step towards Armel and raising her sword again.


"Yes, Sir Jakob." She said, breaking her gaze from Armel for a moment before returning her attention to the spar.


Sword over shoulder... She mulled over the words.


Stepping forward again, she raised the dull blade and let it fall in a chopping motion, her expression pensive as it cut through the air, falling towards Armel's perpendicular wrist.

 

[Terragon]

Armel sighed as he slowly stretched his neck from side to side. "Understood sir. Well then Mal, I guess we are to do this dance-" It was at that moment that he caught Mal dropping her sword toward his general area. His adrenaline quickly jump started his tired form and he dodged her attack at the right before impact.


"Trying to pull a cheap shot huh?" He took a few steps back and attempted to copy her stance, both of his knees slightly bent. Armel slowly positioned his sword over his shoulder, gripping it's handle with both hands.


"I may not know how to fight like a human, but the one thing that I am very good at is surviving, which means that I can evade a lot of attacks towards myself." He gave her a small smirk which caused a small gust of wind to blow behind him and towards his opponent.


"So don't get mad if you are not able to hit me."

 

[Killigrew]

"It was fair." Mal insisted, a bit taken aback. "I thought you were paying attention."


His smirk irked her, so she spat at his foot, encasing its lower toes in clumping ice. Seizing this opportunity, she slid herself to the right, her blade snaking out and making to smack at his left side. She spat again, at his other foot, the ice crystalizing vertically, moving for the flat of his foot.


The blade, as she moved, was starting to make sense to her. Humans had no sharpened fangs nor claws. But the sword was added along to pierce and overcome the foe's defenses, to do what the inferior body of a human could not. Mal could understand that. The sword was like her tail, a sharp and deadly edge meant to damage what her breath and teeth could not.


Except that she could put down the sword. She couldn't remove her tail. That murder weapon was forever a part of her.


"And what do you know of survival?" Mahl'Iss hissed, making to slap him with her sword again. "What exactly have you done to survive? When have you crawled on the edge between life and death and, desiring death, chose life?" This one had spent his time in the cradle of comfort surrounded by friends and family. And he fancied himself to know something of survival. Mal shook her head, lips thinning.


He was younger than he looked, wasn't he?

 

[Sgt Grunt]

"Hold!" Jakob bellowed, moving to the pair of dragons and placing himself directly in front of the female. He had no head for their pronunciation, so made do with 'Girl' and 'you'.


"A knight worthy of the name does not insult a worthy opponent. He does not seek to lose his edge by succumbing to anger, or impetuousness. Always show respect for your opponent, because the one time you do not will be your last." His Germanic accent became thicker the more he spoke of honor, something he held more sacred than life itself. "Now, try again."

 

[Terragon]

Armel was in position to evade all of her strikes until Jakob stepped in. His eyes widening as he scolded Mal for her abrupt episode of anger.


"Ya...what he said!"

 

[Killigrew]

Respect... Mal nodded slowly at the human's words, not entirely understanding them. "I did not mean to insult you." She had spoken from the anger that so often hinged at the edges of her thoughts, that masked her fear. But Armel was no target of her emotion. Then who was? Mal couldn't quite place an answer, and shrugged off the question.


Arr'Muhil before her, she beheld him with a slow dawning of regard. She knew next to nothing of him beside his appearance and position. The ignorance she held of him should not go unnoticed. Mahl'Iss slowed her breath as she eyed him, a singular fellow. She had killed only in desperation, or by necessity. Here the humans practiced killing for... she wasn't quite sure yet what. Between mere sport and honest anticipation of threats to come, their motive could be either. She simply had not garnered near enough information to draw any clear conclusions.


Mahl'Iss watched the air dragon before her more quietly now, hearing the sound of her own breath, the low squelch of her swallow, sensing the air around the creature, gauging his movements. She thought of herself, of this inferior human coil, and decided to make it better. She held her sword straight again, extending out, and, warily approached.

 

[Terragon]

Armel relaxed his stance for a moment and stretched his neck from side to side. "You seem to have a lot of pent up anger against someone you just met for five minutes. You sure you don't want to do this another time when both of our heads are clear?"


As Mal approached he put himself in a more suitable stance which allows for proper manuver. One foot forward and one foot back, with his back heel lifted. He slowly started to move around Mal keeping direct eye contact with her.


"As to answer your question. Yes, I have. Obviously not as much as a knight or a soldier. Though when you've lived for over hundred years and a good chunk of your life was spent wandering and exploring the forests then you are bound to encounter a few life threatening situations. Granted, that most of those situations didn't involve a Loride or forsworn attacking me with their weapons."

 

[Sgt Grunt]

"Conserve your breath, Armel. By the look of that one, you will need it!" Heinrich shouted from the on looking students, ignoring the elbow he got from the nearest one and grinning widely. He was fascinated with the power on display here; flashes of ice and wind lighting images of uses in his mind.


An army backed by this would be unstoppable...

 

[Syrenrei]

Enigma's thundering hooves could be heard far before the slight figure on his back could be seen clearly. The steady rhythm of a canter drew closer and closer to the academy until the war horse stopped abruptly next to a guard. His rider, a slim and unimposing priestess that was both an adult and a youth, stayed perfectly perched in her saddle. For someone with so little musculature she did quite well in holding herself slightly above the seat and gripping with her calves as would be instructed; it was not something that most unlearned persons would be proficient in doing. "Oh, so sorry! I'm a little late, aren't I?" One of the guards eyed her warily, slightly baffled by her apparent incompetence. Immediately Areynia began digging into the depths of her garments, saddlebags, and person to try to find the papers that clearly indicated she was supposed to be here. When she finally discovered them in one of her satchels it flew out of her hands, past her attempts to catch it twice, and landed on the ground. The guard sighed, stooped to fetch the document, and read it carefully.


"You were assigned here days ago," he scolded after close examination. "Very well. You are cleared to go inside. You should report to the temple and explain to your superiors your tardiness," he added. Areynia giggled nervously and blushed, adjusting her robes as she tried to look more elegant as she dismounted Enigma. "Oh, do you think they noticed the delay?" The other guard snorted in thinly veiled amusement. Neither knew the rationale in having a priestess that was so inept attending the academy, or what could have possibly kept her from arriving for several days, but neither followed the orders that dabbled in magic. Areynia was a headache they were all too eager to rid themselves of. The first guard waved her through with exasperation and turned his stare back outward as she led her obedient steed into the keep.


Once inside a servant took Enigma's reins from her. She quickly took her belongings (several bags and her staff) that had been strapped to the equine and stumbled deeper into the keep. It was nothing if not a comical sight to behold. A rather attractive young lady, clearly of the faith and of no real strength, teetering back and forth with her possessions hastily stacked in her arms. There was no illusion of grace and elegance that might be associated with someone of higher rank. What she lacked in coordination she made up for in winning smiles. As some eyed the newcomer with confusion or laughed at her feeble efforts she positively beamed back at them. It was a visage that, were there more intelligence behind its features, could illuminate a room with its radiance. A polite boy or two offered assistance but she declined and kept meandering towards the temple as she murmured to herself what might be a good excuse for being a few days late. What were a few days? Surely nothing important had happened while she...


Oh.


Areynia spotted several persons- a few that looked odd and wielded more magic than they ought to- at the sparring grounds. Well, the temple had waited for days had they not? What was a little longer? Patience was a virtue and she was just trying to assist the others in exercising their virtues- yes, that was it. "What's going on?" she asked a little loudly as she pushed her way through the small crowd that had gathered. One lady found herself shouldered with more strength than the priestess should possess and another unyielding fellow had a pack of a few weighty books dropped squarely on his foot. It didn't take long before the oddly charming female had a small circle of space around her. No sight was worth the injury the unwitting Areynia could inflict on them- was it?

 

[Killigrew]

He said she was angry. That irked her. But Mal let a cold calm spread over, emanating out from a bitterness in her heart.


“Talk later.” Mal hissed as she brought the sword up, her scrawny human arms straining as time carried the spar into sundown. She didn’t have to think, and that was good. She didn’t want to. She found the brainless sensation of exertion both hypnotizing and familiar.


So silence and the clattering of blades and the scuffle of feet replaced the cacophony of raised voices as the two dragons sparred, ice and air turning the air sharp, making the ground slick with their inhuman powers. On occasion, Jakob barked out advice, or demanded correction, and Mal, though she breathed in earnest, adapted herself as best she could, yet even by the end of the match, she still believed that every one of her actions had been clunky, every movement foreign.


Mal rolled her stiff neck, dropping her blade against the sword rack, where it clattered into its holding place. Letting out a long breath, she turned her gaze upon the one that had been silent audience to their long bout. Noz’Onn, red hair wispy in the breeze, had been waiting there with his arms crossed all the while, a dark look dominating his face as he eyed the new dragon.


“I don’t like it.” He whispered. “Something’s off. You’d think the Eldest would be a bit more upset with the humans poisoning one of our own. The boy was so young…”


Mal swayed her neck, showing unsurity, but her narrowed eyes revealed exhausted annoyance. ”Perhaps they seek to forgive the humans. We need peace, and we can’t waste time taking offence on every little thing.”


Nozz scoffed. ”You can’t mean that. A dragon --a child of our kind-- could’ve died. Murdered. The humans don’t want peace. They’ve made their intention clear -- they either want us as slaves or corpses.” She watched his hands curl into fists. ”We need to leave. We can’t let them make us into either. There will be no peace with the little souls.”


”Wildfire, restrain yourself.” Mal hissed, grabbing his wrist. But no sooner had her cold fingers touched him that a hissing steam broke out at the contact. Noz’Onn snatched his arm back, his expression fierce.


“Uhhh what’s going on, guys?” Armel’s sword clattered into place beside Mal’s. His eyes slowly hovered from Mal’s face to Nozz’s.


Nozz held Mal’s gaze in his own for a long moment. “Don’t worry about it.” He said tinnily, his eyes narrowing. The supper bell rang, and he shouldered past her, heading for the Academy’s entrance.


“Is he hungry or something?” Armel persisted, scratching his head and looking completely lost.


Mal let out a long cold cloud. The emotion releasing itself from her taut chest, Mal managed to say, “Not sure.” before turning to their instructor, Jakob. “By your leave, sir, may we head inside?” She kept her back straight, the words and positioning observed and memorized the previous day; she’d been waiting for an opportunity to exercise them. She was learning, but only just.

 

[Sgt Grunt]

"You are all dismissed until tomorrow. Eat, you will need the strength for the next session. And don't forget your school classes with the clergy. Warriors must know more than just the blade." Jakob watched them all file out of the training yard, and caught sight of an unfamiliar face amongst the observing crowd. She wore the clothes of a woman of faith, and he hailed her while the rest of the crowd dispersed.


I had thought the priests said something about a new member... Ar-something?


"Milady? Might you be here to join the acolytes in the temple? I happen to be heading back now, should you wish an escort."

 

[Syrenrei]

"Areynia. Areynia Schwarzenacht." Her grin spread from ear to ear and she started to do a bow before she realized that was a touch inappropriate and fumbled half-way into a curtsey. A handshake was completely out of the question given the myriad of precariously balanced belongings she had stacked in her arms. Not that Jakob really looked like he wanted to shake her hand. The temple would no doubt chastise her manners at the earliest opportunity- if they were not exasperated by her clumsiness first. "I saw a crowd and had to come see what the excitement was!" she eagerly added before thinking to ask for his name. "I knew this would be a much more interesting assignment than my last one!"


While she did not explicitly state she knew that at least a couple recently departed persons were dragons, it was undoubtedly what she referenced. The integration of them into the academy was already thrilling but to gaze upon them exhibiting their powers was nothing short of breathtaking. It was true the faith did not smile upon this recent endeavor nor the race as a whole, but rarely were the religious completely consumed by every popular opinion. A divergence here and there was not all that abnormal. What was strange was that she was so open, chatty, and 'goofy' given the austere of being here.


"I got a little delayed on my way here," she admitted to Jakob bashfully. A particular satchel started to try to roll out of her grasp in a desperate escape, but a subtle shift and jiggle of the entire stack assured that it would not be successful. "Thank you for the offer- I have a feeling it's going to take me a while to get my bearings, so to speak. There are so many new faces and names to learn and I'm afraid I have a poor sense of direction. If I can make my way from my room to breakfast tomorrow without heading down a wrong passageway it will be cause for celebration!"

 

[Sgt Grunt]

"I see." Jakob felt a bit taken aback by the onslaught of joviality exhibited by this young acolyte, but, as chivalry would dictate he decided to keep at it. "That's quite a pack you have, Areynia. Please, allow me to help." Without waiting for an answer he plucked a few things off the top of her stack, trying to pick out the heaviest things and free her arms a bit.


"If you'll follow me, milady, we'll get you to your new home in no time. My name is Jakob Von Salzahausen, leader of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre. My men and I live in the catacombs of the temple, so I'm sure we'll be seeing much of each other in days to come."

 

[Auren]

Lureana put her weapons that she had practiced with back. She slowly nodded at the Magister's orders, though she was not a fan of the clergy. She thought about perhaps looking into more tactical works from previous wars, especially the ones with dragons involved. Although the humans had fought against the dragons, she would possibly see insight on their tactics in regards to their magic. She had noticed the little spit between the two that had spared, and she couldn't help being curious about how they would use their natural weapons to the best of their advantage.


She wiped her brow, and felt her lack of sleep drag on her more. If she were to eat too much, she would likely pass out over her notes. She walked ahead of the group while she thought. Lureana may have been short, but she was still very fast, agile. Entering the dining hall, she grabbed a mere apple and glass of water. Finding a near-empty table, she ate while other thoughts of what she planned to study clouded her mind.


It was only when she heard a loud thump that she looked up. A few of the Lionharts had gathered at a table across from her's and one was banging the table with his fat fist in his merriment. Lureana scoffed, and glanced around to find the other academ. It wasn't until now that she realized her thoughts had distracted her so much that she hadn't noticed when she separated from them.

 

[King Of Imagination]

Aristaeus returned his bow to its place over his shoulder. He gave a slight smile to Lureana, and a nod.


"Perhaps another day we can have a proper spar." He heeded their new mentor's dismissal and strode off to the dining hall, though stopping at the infirmary first. One of the acolytes looked at him in disgust at first, knowing he was a dragon sympathizer, but then saw his foot. Aris knew that even the most hated enemy would be treated if they were injured here. The acolyte unwrapped his foot and took a look, prodding it lightly. He put a paste on it and wrapped it back up, telling him it would be fine within the week, and that he was lucky it didn't hit any tendons or the like.


Aristaeus stood up and walked to the dining hall, gathering food on a plate and going to sit at an empty table, now that he was not a member of any order.

 

[Syrenrei]

"I am very glad to meet you, Sir Jakob. It is kind of you to help me with my things! I am afraid I got carried away when loading my belongings onto my stallion, Enigma, as he is so much stronger than I am." With a bright smile she shifted most of what remained in her arms to her right and used her Staff of Stolen Frost, an obvious relic, to steady her left arm and stride. It was perhaps blasphemous to use such an artifact as a walking cane but it was well-cared for in every meaningful way; the scales that adorned it glimmered and gleamed in the light without flaw or blemish. The orb and metalwork were similarly meticulously polished until they were lustrous and luminescent. Next to the drab clothing of Areynia it was a glittering reminder of the mysterious wonders of the world they resided in. "I am a priestess of Eesna. They assigned me here to provide blessings. The church hopes to help in the most meaningful ways possible." Another flashed smile of eager brilliance.


"You'll have to pardon me for my excitement. I never imagined that my spell-weaving would lead to an assignment here. We are positively creating history. Some day they will talk of what transpired here and I'm sure that you, Sir Jakob, will surely be mentioned in the tomes yet to be written. It is quite humbling, don't you think?" While her prior conversation seemed honest enough, her passions leaked through in the discussion of history. Areynia's near-obsession with tomes had not gone without notice with previous peers. It was an enthusiasm that oozed out of every nuance of her being and could not be concealed. No matter how inappropriate or brash it might to be to discuss, Areynia knew how momentous this occasion was. The dragons were walking among humans for the first time in a long time. An alliance had been forged that would shape every fibre of society.


History.

 

[Sgt Grunt]

Jakob chucked softly under his helmet at her enthusiasm, wondering when it was exactly that he'd lost his. He'd once been as bright eyed and busy tailed about serving the order, yet he now found such energy to be lacking.


"History will not remember the likes of me, Acolyte. It will remember my order and all it has accomplished, but not I. The old will become a footnote to be skimmed over by students such as yourself. I am only glad to be here and witness the occasion." He pushed open the huge wooden doors with one hand, holding them open for Areynia to pass inside and holding everything else under one arm.


"Welcome, Acolyte, to the temple. You're bed should be through the hall on your left. Any will do."

 

[Syrenrei]

Areynia smiled broadly at Jakob's assertion that he would not be remembered in history's tomes. It was oft an assumption that the humble made; only the arrogant and the self-important painted themselves as heroic figures that would be famous long past their death. His feelings aside he was someone of relative authority in this place and she had little doubt that he would be of more significance than he expected.


She slipped inside the doors with momentary grace, her staff meeting the hard and flat flooring with a soft assertive thud as she stood. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the lighting, during which she took the opportunity to speak again. "I quite love history, though I expect most of my time here will be giving blessings, scribing ideas for new incantations, and assisting others in their training," she noted aloud.


Another flashed smile of gratitude and she was moving down the hall, selecting an arbitrary empty bed for herself. Without any finesse or grace, she dumped all of her belongings (except the exquisite artifact) on the cot and turned to Jakob with another pleasant expression. "Thank you again for all your help! If all of your men are this kind, I think I will truly enjoy the company of the people that are here!"

 

[Sgt Grunt]

"The knights of the Holy Sepulchre only accept the best, Acolyte Areynia.


Should any of my men treat you with disrespect, send them to me. Have a wonderful day, milady."


Jakob bowed deeply, leaving her belongings and room in search of solitude.

 

[JellyFish]

Asinine.





Darting eyes, flecked in an assortment of mockery and dismay flashed over to the light of the food hall. This was absurd. Of all things she could be doing, she was complicating whether or not to go into a social hellhole. "By the gods..." Disgraced flamed around her neck, like a proudly shown collar of a prized pet. A prized pet, indeed... She scuffed her foot against the rugged carpet, still studying the doors. Honestly, she didn't wish to go in. If anything she would dash to her room and hide herself until the blasted morning's light.


She thought back to that day earlier when she had been watching the dragon's spar. They were so flimsy with a human's instrument of war and she had laughed...multiple times. It had been something of amusement, like two jesters playing in front of a large crowd. Then the messenger came. He came with his downward gaze, chest huffing in the adrenaline of being caught. Of being found out. She had been watching him from the corner of her eyes, dusty golden orbs narrowing into slits.


He approached and gave. She took and opened. And quietly, left the ongoing crowds of cheering and murmured bets just so she could burn the letter. She had stared the ashes of the message, stilled and motionless while the red flames flicking in forbidden warmth.


"Peace...is nonnegotiable. And it will always be." She turned and left, refusing to obey the orders given. At least for tonight. Tonight she just needed to find a possible lake of shadows to drown herself in.

 

[Sgt Grunt]

Heinrich sat in the dining hall with a tray of food piled high, stuffing his face greedily while others talked amongst themselves. He had no need to discuss what he'd seen with others, as he knew no one would understand his excitement over it. None of these dopes had their sights set high enough... but he did.


If I had even one dragon bound to my will, I could change the world. He smiled widely through his mouth full of food, Oh yes, the Hochmeister himself would have to bow to me.

 

[Auren]

Lureana finished her meal early, and feeling the hankering for knowledge on dragon tactics, she left the dining hall. On her way to the library, she noticed the red-haired dragon, Noz she believed, running out. A rather large cloak surrounded his form, making his hair his only trait that distinguished him. She shrugged, feeling he probably wanted knowledge of humans from the library. Though she couldn't imagine what had him in such a hurry to leave. In his rush, she didn't think he saw her as she approached from behind.


Entering the library, she hardly noticed the mess of books that had been pulled out and thrown across the floor. Instead, she walked across the room in her search for the military tactics and art.

 

[Killigrew]

Armel stayed silent as he walked down to the dining hall. He was legitimately puzzled about what just transpired. “What an odd group of people.” He muttered to himself. He walked around silently and then he breaks the silence, turning his attention back on the peculiar ice dragon next to him. “Okay, lets be serious here. I haven’t been here for more than a mere hour and you tried to slice up my body with a training blade, and that other charming fire dragon fellow had that one look in his eye where he wanted to just kill people. On top of that I’ve been getting rather weird looks from everyone else. And not the good type of weird. Is it something I said? What about how I look, do I look so ridiculous that it offends people for some reason?”


Mal surveyed the humans around them with a look of discomfort before she answered. "No, Arr'Muhil, you have done nothing wrong. I have had difficulty getting along with the fire one since the beginning of our stay here. There is nothing amiss or abnormal in his furious behavior."


Her cold eyes turned upon him. "As for the swordplay, I thought it would be of benefit to you and to me. I did not know you saw it as personal assault, and so, for my brazenness, I apologize." She sat down primly upon the table bench and took hold of the meat, breaking it with her hands and forcing it past unhappy lips. The chewing was a trial all its own, but she found the task easier now that she knew what to anticipate. "Noz'Onn should be friendlier on the morrow provided a good wind blows. For now, relax, eat, and let us accumulate in the friendliness of these Loride." Lowering her tone, she leaned in toward him and added, "Whatever Wildfire is up to, we must be diligent in representing the good in our kind. Agreed?"


Armel chuckled a little. “Ya well, I guess you going all out on me was sort of my fault. I admit that I was having a little fun with you, I apologize on my behalf as well. However, I can’t promise that I won’t do it ever again, it’s just how I am. Believe me, my father still hasn’t thrashed it out of me yet after all these years. Heh heh.” He started to scowl at the thought of red haired one. Something definitely wasn’t right. “Yes, I agree. Though I think we should be worried about that “Wildfire” one. I’ve seen that look in a dragon’s eyes before. I can think of three scenarios, from the worst to the best. Worst case scenario is that his heart is absorbing the fire that is supposed to flow freely around him, causing a build up of negative emotions. The outburst of that rage can be catastrophic. Second scenario is that he is beginning to get paranoid about the people around him. He can be rather unpredictable in this stage. The third scenario which is probably best case, is that he is just hungry. In that case we can go get some deer meat or something.”


Mahl'Iss nodded numbly at the appropriate intervals in Armel's speech, but by the end of it, and midway through, she'd pulled back, her eyes turned aside, her shoulders raised in an expression of discomfort. "It is rude to speak so long with words others do not understand." Mal said quietly. "Let us discuss further... at another time. I do not think Nozz is a point of worry now, anyhow." The fire dragon, while disruptive, seemed... well, if not trustworthy, predictable to Mal. While he pushed the limits, he seemed to have good reason to, or at least a good fabrication on hand to explain his actions. In many ways, he seemed young to Mal, and it was because he seemed so young that she had come to believe he could do no harm to the dragons' cause. Not without her anticipating it, anyway.


Armel shrugged. “Ey, you started talking and I just followed along. But if that makes you uncomfortable for some reason then so be it. I’m just saying it would be best for us to keep our eyes and ears open. Also, be careful about what you drink and eat. All it takes is one lunatic to cause another tragedy.” He started stretching his neck from side to side and chuckled to himself. “Funnily enough, I am both hungry and thirsty. Can’t wait to try out Loride delicacy and talk about how horrifying or how wonderful it is. ”


"It's horrifying, I assure you." Mal shuddered as the cooked meat slithered down her throat. She stifled coughs, manifestations of her urge to vomit, behind her hand.


Armel raised his brow while trying a slice of his meat. He chewed it and then stopped, letting the meat slither down his own throat as well. “Are you kidding me? This tastes absolutely amazing! It’s like having deer but like...a fiery one roasted it alive!”


Mal fell back in both wonder and unveiled disgust, a horrified gasp ripping at her throat. "You... you cannot mean that!"


Armel looked at Mal with a wide grin on his face. “Nope. Not at all. This is possibly one of the most atrocious things I’ve ever eaten.” He then burst out laughing. “Oyyyy, that was way too easy. That look on your face was priceless!”


Realizing Armel's ploy, she attempted to regain some semblence of dignity by assuming rigid posture and an air of distaste for his antics. "You should not make such jests." She said unhappily, pushing her plate away from her.


Armel snorted. “I don’t care if you turn me into an ice sculpture where I sit right now, that was still worth it. And besides...there is a really easy solution to our peculiar food dilemma. Ehhh, lets just tell the cook to serve our meat raw. There, problem solved.”


"It would not do." Mal said quietly. "While we live among the humans, there is a separation between us. Our differences run thicker than blood." She locked her gaze onto her hand, turning her fingers toward her, seeing the white veins than ran beneath her skin, shifting with a magic no human could imitate. It closed into a fist. "So we must work to be the same as them in every way we can. I have come to think this best for the sake of peace between our species."


“Well, you are quite the dramatic one aren’t you?” Armel looked at her with a puzzled gaze. “I don’t really understand that line of reasoning that if we prefer a different way our meat will have humans despise us more or something.j. I’ll prove to you next time we eat that it won’t be as big as an issue as you make it out to be.” Armel leaned back in his chair with a confident posture.


Mal sighed, irritated. This airy one was beginning to sound like Nozz. Twisting her words into something they were not and looking for trouble where it could be avoided. "Do as you wish." She said, resigned. "But know I strongly disapprove of such action, and will think you troublesome for pursuing it."


“Oh thee well. I’ll prove to you that politely asking questions can for the most part provide reasonable results.”


Mal rolled her eyes and stood up in the middle of Armel's sentence. Without another word, she spun about for the exit, and stalked out.


Armel blinked a few times. “Well I’m glad we had this talk! Fare thee well for now!” While he waved at her with a smile. “What a charming lady. I give it about another week before she attempts to turn me into an ice block.” He eyed his cup curiously. “Well, here is hoping that their water actually tastes like water.” He took a sip and sighed in relief, but then stopped in his seat. He took a closer examination at his drink. “Oh damn it all who decides to serve ale as a primary drink instead of water!” Armel got out of his seat and walked towards the exit. “I’m going outside to find like a river or something. Maybe eat a rabbit.”


The bell tolled, chiming with high pitch and rapid clanging. With its demanding, frequent sound, the Academ of Galt's Academy did thus make their way for evening prayer.


The time was one of sober singing to the gods, swirling elements an answer to the more devout, and recitation from their holy books. The final words of the Abbas sent the academ away in blessing, and particular emphasis was made upon the destroying, the mortification of evil.


Thence, the students milled their way to their respective quarters, each of the orders having a dorm and bunk lying in wait, excepting those few that had accepted the dragons' contract.


They were guided by a messenger to the locked servants' quarters, where arrangements had been made for the slumber of these few. Two of dragons were already awaiting within, but the third, the fiery red one, was nowhere to be seen.


And it was thus that the third day ended, and another day arose in its place. For the week to follow, their assigned mentor Sir Jakob would lead and guide then through a specialized curriculum alongside the dragons that would both challenge and impassion these unsuspecting academ. Bonds would be forged and enemies made, and the choices made by these individuals would one day help shape the fate of their land.


And off in the distance in the Academy hallways one can hear a certain Armel say “Why the hell do these Loride intend on getting me drunk with ale instead of serving me water?! No wonder why you are all so damned peculiar!”


==============================================================


Timeskip is now in Effect. Players, to your PMs! I shall assign main story prompts and appropriate google docs, but I encourage you to confer with one another your own happenings and strengthen relationships with one another.


On this post a list will be drawn up of the in progress and completed prompts.


For the next few weeks we will be describing in quicklike fashion the week before the grand hunt. Let's work well together :○D

 

[Sgt Grunt]

Early the next day, Jakob strode through the academy with a gaggle of half asleep students and dragons trailing behind him. He had woken them all before the sunrise, hoping to attract less attention that way for the specific training he had in mind. He remained silent as they passed the gate guards, simply nodding in acknowledgement as he led his group into the woods on the perimeter of the academy grounds.


They walked in forced silence, as every time one tried to speak, he shushed them instantly. It was a few miles of hiking through the thick underbrush before he was satisfied they would not be discovered by patrols or unwitting villagers.


Jakob turned to face them all, clad in full plate as usual and not even breathing fast from the hike.


"Students, I brought you here to master that which plagues the rest of humanity. Fear of the unknown. If you are to be the best, you must rise above the things that bring others down. Today, you will see and face a live dragon." Jakob smiled behind his helmet, "More than one, I should say. Dragons, step forward, please." He waited for them to obey, placing his hands behind his back.


"I know you've been told that in order to uphold the peace, you must restrain your true forms. That will not apply today. I want you to turn to your natural state."

 

[Killigrew]

"On what authority..." Mahl'Iss began, and no sooner had the words left her mouth that Noz'Onn had, gladly, begun his transformation.


The snapping of bone breaking into larger bone began, at once, to accumulate amongst itself. So practiced was this dragon in this manner that his whole human body, taking one step, smoothly flowed out into a river of red scales painting across his body even as the shape of it transformed. The grin on his mouth grew razor-sharp, wide and smoking as his nose became a snout, his jaw elongated, and two large horns sprouted on either side of his head.


The dragon curled around them, huge, hot, and magnificent by the cracks of light through the trees,


shimmering off his coat.


Every. Time. Noz'Onn proved himself ever careless, ever unwitting. This may have been a trial, or a test of the dragons' loyalty to their word. Breaking it so easily... Mal's teeth bared as her cold cloud sizzled in contact with Noz'Onn's massive body. That was no way to represent a race.


Glancing at Armel, she wondered what he thought of this. As no warriors did burst from the growth around them, Mal was convinced that this was no trap. Fortunate was Nozz, as per the usual. Mahl'Iss met their trainer's eyes with a veiled threat. Should he prove treacherous, her jawd would find him first.


The ice dragon then released herself from this restrictive form.


The scales came first, thin armor all over her body. Then the legs bulged, pushing her body forward as a tail sprouted from between her hips. She hissed as the pain set in -- a mark of her inexperience, and her chest swelled with the breath, popping open, sounding like thunder to her.


The rest of her body followed in quick, sequential succession, not smooth but cracking and jagged as Noz'Onn was. She twisted and broke into being rather than flowed into this natural form.


A full foot shorter than the flamed one, she puffed smoke at his face, dissatisfied with his behavior. Noz'Onn shrugfed it off, levelling her with exasperation.