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Post by DC on Sept 18, 2014 8:40:31 GMT -5
Here is where you will roleplay out your going through the magic/weapon schools, if you should want more than just the primary schools you're allowed to give freely to your character.
Here's how this will work. Your character will go through 15 weeks of schooling here, mostly because you're getting a "crash course" version since you should have already graduated from your primary schools. In one post that you will edit hourly/once per hour at a minimum, you will make a post for each week. Once the fifteenth week is done, you've graduated.
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Ars Moriendi
Citizen
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Posts: 92
Registered: Sept 8, 2014 17:58:41 GMT -5
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Post by Ars Moriendi on Sept 21, 2014 22:04:03 GMT -5
AlkyoneSchool Training: Transmutation Magic and Close Range: Melee Combat
Week 1
Alkyone fiddles with the edge of her cloak nervously out of habit, her strange eyes flitting about. The metal apparatus around her head draws attention, but she ignores it. It is normal, by this point, to be stared at for both the thing on her head, and also her appearance. Having almost opaque skin and odd-looking eyes don't exactly draw the right kind of people. Unlike most of the other students, Alkyone already has a MagiTech Mana Device, although she wouldn't mind an upgrade or two. It was out of necessity rather than choice.
She looks around at the other students of the Transmutation school, sizing them up. She already had experience with her choice of magic, but seeing if she could learn new things would be an interesting endeavor. Perhaps after this school she will attend a Weapons School, but she decides to allow things to play out as they will. Making sure she was at the back of the class where fewer people would stare, Alkyone snaps to attention as the professor begins speaking. Week 2
Thankfully, week one had gone smoothly enough. She stayed out of sight as much as possible, and avoided conflict. However, she did draw some attention when she fought. Although she didn't learn new skills exactly, she did find the experience of fighting against others whose fighting styles she was unfamiliar with an enjoyable past time. What she couldn't hide, however, was her right arm. During sparring she had to remove her cloak and glove, revealing it to be a metal prosthetic. As if she didn't draw enough strange looks. Alkyone tried to ignore it, however, and focused on improving herself as much as possible.
Currently, she had made no friends, mainly for the reason that she completely shied away from social gatherings, so she had only herself to blame. She had gained a reputation of a close to arrogant fighter, this based on the fact that she did exactly what she needed to to win, no more, no less, and it put off people. She had heard the whispers, but didn't really care what the others thought about her fighting style. Conserving her own, rather limited mana supply was her main objective, and if other people didn't like it, so be it. Alkyone couldn't say she hated school, however. It was rather entertaining.
Week 3 It was week three and Alkyone had enjoyed her time so far, although she wouldn't show it. Her favorite part was seeing other people fight, as well as fighting herself. She had managed to impress her teachers enough to the point where they leave her alone, although they sometimes call on her for answers the others don't know.
Now, a stylus of sorts in her hand, the tip made up of some kind of chalk, Alkyone lightly traces a transmutation circle on her mechanical arm. Her circles generally have a swirling pattern in them, although it gets modified depending on what she is trying to transmute. Her teachers praise her precise, neat drawing, even at high speeds. She flips through a notebook next to her, looking from it to her arm every so often to make sure she is being accurate. Since she is creating the circle on her own body, she isn't quite sure how it will affect her mana supply yet. She was aware that transmutation circles draw on the wielder's own supplies when its drawn on the body, but since her arm is mechanical, she is curious as to see if that rule will still apply. Even if it doesn't do exactly what she wants it to, the experiment is worthwhile. Week 4Week four came around and Alkyone was in a fine mood, surprisingly. Still had very few friends, but she had at least tried to be a bit more social than usual, and it seemed to have paid off a little, at least, people actually coming over to her to ask a question was a great improvement in her mind. The transmutation circle she had drawn on her arm had worked wonderfully, and she was making slight adjustments as she needed to. She had taken to carrying around a small, insignificant looking bag at her belt, this carrying small bars, about the size of a thumb, of metal. This way, if her arm became too worn from battle or she had transmuted too much of its material around for it to be functional, she could fix it.
One possible oddity people might notice was her apparent lack of stamina. Although she could win a streak of fights pretty easily, the other students saw that her breathing became more labored as she was forced to draw on her own mana. Alkyone gave no explanation for this, although if one were perceptive, a small disk, part of the apparatus around her head, would glow slightly when she used her mana. Week 5Having finished her classes for that day, Alkyone decided to take some time to practice. She found an empty training room and settled down. Pulling out a piece of chalk, she deftly drew a circle on the ground before adding the spell work. Once this was finished, she places her left palm on the circle and activates it. 6 earthen walls rise around her in a hexagonal shape, effectively giving her 360 degree defense other than below and above. Now turning her attention to the walls themselves, on each one she proceeds to trace circles of various purposes. She activates them one at a time, checking that their effect is what she wants, and making changes as needed.
Other than earth, she always carries a lighter, which she brings out. After producing a flame, she draws a transmutation circle to replicate the chemical reaction of flame, using the oxygen in the air as fuel. A ring of fire bursts to life around her protective wall, and she smiles, satisfied. After lowering the walls and extinguishing the flame, she leaves, satisfied with her work. Week 6Alkyone had found a library, and quickly immersed herself in various literature. Although she loved a good novel as much as the next person, the books on history and lore intrigued her the most. Finding a comfortable corner to sit, she reads for hours on the history of the various cities, as well as legends and folk tales. The legendary beasts especially interest her, and she writes annotations in a separate notebook as she reads.
As well as history, she also reads books on magic, mainly to experiment later on ways to increase her own proficiency. She doesn't read just about transmutation, however. Psionics also fascinated her, and she pored through tomes on the subject. Soon, she found herself spending more and more time in the library and less time actually training. She needed to remedy that, but she loved books. She could put it off for a week. Week 7Deciding to take a small break from magic work, Alkyone focused a bit more on her melee combat work. In class, she caught on pretty quickly to techniques she didn't know, and managed to gain the respect of her classmates by demonstrating her proficiency in fighting. Unfortunately, a small drawback was her arm, the metal one to be specific. However much she tried to control her strikes, even a simple punch from the metal would leave her opponent winded.
For example, the boy she's currently facing. Her eyes lock with his, and she saw a nervousness in them. I can't help it if I slightly fractured that other girl's wrist, she thinks tiredly. Her blocking incorrectly wasn't my fault. As it was, she tried her best to not even use her right arm, blocking with it only when necessary. Internally, she silently cursed her misfortune for losing the limb in the first place. Week 8Alkyone slips around quietly, her eyes flitting back and forth. Her steps make a soft pattering sound, unnoticeable unless one was listening for it. She hurries down a side path of the school to a small wooded area. A small lake is a favorite meeting spot for couples, but she knows no one will be there tonight. The water glistens brightly, and the moonlight reflects off the surface of the water. She kneels and traces a transmutation circle with different markings in it than ones she's used before. Placing her hands on it, she activates it.
The water ripples as the lake is split apart and a row of steps appears. Checking to make sure she wasn't followed, Alkyone hurries down them, the passageway closing behind her. She needed to get this done before everyone woke up. She didn't want to miss any of her classes anyway. A sigh escapes her lips as she prepares herself. Week 9Dark circles accentuated Alkyone's eyes in an unpleasant way. Her hand tapped out a frantic rhythm on the table she sat at, and to an observer, she appeared to be distracted. Every little movement or sound made her jump, and her distinctive eyes shifted about nervously. Some of the other students had noticed her behavior, but since she already had a reputation of being "odd", they brushed it off. Probably stress, they assumed. Almost constantly now, the already visible veins on Alkyone's body had darkened to a sickly blue, and she rarely paid attention in class anymore, not that it hurt her grades all that much.
However, it did hurt her performance. Her once pristine transmutation circles were now sloppy, and couldn't produce the desired effect, to the point where she almost injured a teacher by a out of control earthen pillar. She refused to talk about what was going on with anyone, even under threat of suspension. At this point, she didn't care. Let them throw her out. It'd probably be better that way anyway. Week 10The rhythmic click of the teacher's shoes echo sharply on the floor. Alkyone sits in silence at a chair in front of his desk, her fingers thrumming a silent tune on her leg. Eyeing her with an expression of genuine concern, the teacher speaks. "You know you've been... struggling lately." Alkyone nods silently. "If something doesn't change, you're going to fail the semester, and you won't be able to graduate." The only response is another nod. "I want to help you, but I can't if you won't tell me what's going on." She sighs. "All right..."
Quarter of an hour later, she leaves the teacher's office, her expression less stressed and her demeanor a bit brighter. Things were looking up, at least for now. Now time to crank in those studies. She'd be able to fix her poor grades if she worked hard enough. Week 11
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Post by HERO on Sept 23, 2014 5:49:22 GMT -5
Oratus School training: Abjuration Magic
Week One
Red eyes scanning the walls of the hallways through which he walked, Oratus studied the general atmosphere of the school he was now attending. His black cloak was wrapped around most of his body, with the pointy-hat hood being settled a bit forward on his noggin. He wasn't carrying all that much on him today, as he didn't know what materials were typically needed in studying Abjuration.
As far as he saw, he was the only "warlock" attending this school, although that didn't bother him since he expected there to be no others. He himself had decided that he could use the teachings for a number of reasons, whether they be protecting his home while away, or plain defense out on the battlefield. The days introduction lectures reassured him that he made the right choice in his path of further pursuing magical studies.
After the lecture, the class would be dismissed, the demonstrations and actual teaching to be left for tomorrow. After taking the time to chat with a few of his classmates, and his instructor, he pulled the student spellbook he had attained from Arcane school, and wrote a new spell circle, instructing the mana to be entered through in much of the same way the insructor had said lesser wards could be created. Finishing up in about a minute or so, he then took his own leave, and departed for home. "Application and demonstration is going to be fun," he laughed, imagining the upcoming pairing for students to test such spells.
Week Two
And so, the first week had past, and Oratus knew that he was adjusting to the procedure well. The most enjoyable time in class really was, just as he thought, the demonstrations. Having been an Arcane Adept, he was able to take on the role of attacker alongside the teacher, testing the strengths of the other's casted wards. He happily used series of fireballs to bombard and occasionally blast back several of his classmates, once even sending a guy tumbling, who apparently wasn't focusing very much during the lesson. This was probably the closes thing to a spar most in this school could probably, unless there was a game of some sort in which they could try to trap each other. His own ward stood up to the strength of the teacher's exploding fireball of course, which concluded the day's instruction.
Leaving out, he would draw yet another spell circle to his spellbook, an improved version of his last spell circle, slightly more potent and easier to use. Flipping the book closed, he made his way out of the lecture hall, out the hallways, and into the streets outside. "Fourteen more weeks," he said to himself, pulling his hood up and allowing his cloak to wrap around his body while walking.
Week Three
The plan of the week as far as Oratus could remember would be review on mana gathering and mana-halting wards, or at least as far as Oratus could remember.
Then again, Oratus was able to remember everything that went on perfectly since the first day, almost as if he could store it all away like bits in a computer drive to pull back out and translate later. It was nothing new as far as he was concerned, although it did surprise the instructor from time to time, a plus to being such a gifted learner.
Throughout the following week, Oratus did a bare minimum of note taking, and continued to enjoy blasting back his fellow students with progressively stronger attacks, all the while taking the time to bring his as close to perfect as he could manage. Another spell circle was drawn then, neat and cleanly to cap off his newly found knowledge of magical wards, and combine it with his own arcane knowledge. He knew how to craft wards without the spell circle, but nonetheless he felt more control by using the circle to dictate its exact behavior, the same way he would instruct a fireball to explode or simply spread flame.
"Another week over..." he muttered quietly while walking out. This time he was the first out of the room, as he had such an easy time finishing his work, compared to the others. Pulling his hood up, he walked on home, thinking once again about the future. "Maybe conjuration? Or maybe I can travel elsewhere..."
Week Four
"Week number four over," he jotted in the air with an imaginary pen, thinking to himself of the past week. It wasn't necessarily as eventful, but he did come to know of ways he could improve his use of magical wards, specifying further what could be done with them, and whatnot. A lesson right there that nothing is ever perfect, no matter how effective it feels.
But there was also something else that happened that week. A new interest developed, one that would make him desire to leave Shru'tal in due time. An interest in another part of the continent, and what it was rumored to hold, according to a text in the building library.
Aside from that however, not much happened. Things went by smoothly as usual, Oratus attending lectures and practicing with his classmates.
Week Five
During the fifth week of schooling, things had taken a slightly different path from the normal routine. Oratus found that he was able to actually attend class less than he would've figured, becoming ahead in a way as far as understanding the material. By asking the instructor for a few texts, he was actually able to leave early were he given the choice, and he certainly did so during the later half of the week, where some other students needed to review the past material more.
Taking the time to read ahead, his eyes would dart left and right across the lines from the top of the page to the bottom, slipping pieces of information into Oratus'es mind, and allowing him to walk alone to the practice hall for practice.
Drawing spell-circles on the wall (which originally brought disdain to the janitor), he was able to blast attacks upon himself, relying on his wards for protection.
At the end of the week, he stood right in the center of the hall, feet shoulder width apart, with five spell circles charged and set to fire a deal of seconds after he had begun to prepare his ward. "Let's try something new," he thought, flicking his eyes about the walls of the room, the spell circles set to launch from every direction.
Charging up, and releasing, he managed to create a spherical barrier of magical protection around himself, taking equal pressure from each fireball and preventing injury.
Statisfied, he then took the next day off to study lore and ongoing research in arcane magic, wondering what he could do next week. "Week number five, complete..."
Week Six
When the week had started, the instructor gave the class quite the scare. "Quite soon," he proclaimed, pulling out a handgun with a large barrel from behind his stand. "These next few weeks, I intend on pointing this weapon at each of your skulls, and firing several times." It indeed sounded troubling to many of the students, although it was of course an exaggeration. Oratus would've thought it fun though, perhaps after fully picking up what he was to get them to study next: Physical Wards.
Instead of protection against mana-based offense, now a new emphasis would be put on wards that could take impacts from physical matter, bullets being an example. Things were going to become a bit more interesting again, although it was a shame that the time of blasting fireballs at his classmates was over. Perhaps he could still get the amusement of placing seals on peoples seats to light a fire under their butts? He couldn't help but laugh at the thought while he was on his way home, drawing another spell circle, as was typical of him.
Week Seven Humdrum described the past week well, monotonous theory that Oratus felt confident in having understood already. This was yet another week where half the time he could be at home without any true repercussion. Not a great time for application, after reading through the material himself, he decided to go through application, but that presented a problem: He couldn't figure how to do so by himself. It's not like he could throw punches at himself on the outside within his own barrier...
The best he could hope for would be that he could enjoy the next week a great deal more at least.
On the last day, he spent his free time reading over lore and works of fiction. The lore of dragons interested him the most, imagining their size and strength, wondering if any such creatures really did live underneath the city like they were rumored to. One day he could maybe find out, he thought, closing the book and leaving through a crafted portal home.
Week Eight Another week over and done with, another week closer to the sweet-sweet moment of graduation, where he could move on with his studies to other places. In Arcane school, he found that he could perform tweaks, and different variations of spellcraft in all forms of ways, changing timings, speeds, shapes, and formations in many ways to manipulate mana in powerful constructs, keeping him always busy and interested. Though he was able to keep himself interested enough while attending this school, it wasn't without it's inconsequential escapades of self-study and cross-curricular applications. Thankfully though, he wouldn't have to go on resorting to making pebbles blast towards his wards for long, as soon enough his classmates were willing and able to dole out some strikes against his thick nearly-invisible walls of mana. Blow after blow, strikes would bounce off a hardened outer mana shell, or sink to a stop where the inner shell was harder, giving Oratus some additional experience in using them. In time, he knew he would want to come to use them quickly, and as efficiently as possible, so on the final day, he went about remaking another spell-circle in his book, improving the physical ward spell further by arcane magic's consistency, and means of pulling mana from the environment. Week Nine "Bang!" the teacher gleefully shouted, firing off the bullet into the direction of Oratus's skull, Oratus feeling perfectly safe, and perhaps even confident in the near-invisible wall between him and the spinning pin of death. It was a small round, perhaps one that wouldn't necessary kill him were he to be hit anywhere aside from around the eyes, but still, it was a bullet! Feeling far more confident than his other colleagues would at first go, Oratus had both palms readied forward, slightly towards the sides to balance the formation of the mana so that the outer force would cushion, and the bullet would crumple into itself instantly after.
"Well done!" the instructor shouted, happy to see such fruitful results. Oratus felt quite statisfied with himself after that, taking the rest of the class to practice with the seals he had crafted during his time in class.
The past week had been filled with application trials leading up to it, where otherwise Oratus spent his time reading works of fiction, and lore. He knew beforehand that he would like the stories of powerful wizards the most, Oratus calling out to himself, "The Red-Eyed Warlock, the most powerful of them all." A boy could dream. Week Ten With both Mana-deflecting and Physical wards thoroughly reviewed and fully accomplished by most of the class, the instructor decided to start the week off with yet another comical stunt. Walking down the hallway towards the lecture hall, he took the sight of something interesting, a group of students apparently unable to get through the open doorway and into the room.
Standing still and smiling in amusement, he saw one student step all the way back to the opposite end of the hallway, and sprint forward with what appeared to be a powerful shoulder charge. Too bad though he was left whimpering on the ground in agony immediately after contact. A couple feet backward, the ward obviously had a magical recoil effect built into it.
A couple minutes later the barrier had disappeared, and Oratus was able to walk inside to meet the wide smile of the instructor with his own. Week Eleven Trespassing wards, apparently the last base spell that the students were to learn. Simple in concept, although Oratus felt that it might've been of the least use to him. Perhaps he could use it to hide special treasures, relics for adventure too numerous for him to carry alongside his future equipment and wealth.
As always, Oratus was perfectly capable of daydreaming, although even when he daydreamed, he didn't have to struggle much in school. Apparently the week wasn't going to have much application practice anyway, but rather tons, upon tons of theory. Not a problem. Another week that was to come and go, he thought. "It'll be over before I ever even know." Week Twelve Trespassing wards it turned out had an ample number of uses, just few of them involved the typical fulfillment of power fantasy. Security was where it would apparently had the most uses, just like Oratus figured. Preventing unwanted entities from entering guarded places, protecting precious items, invisible walls would do things like that and more. Oratus also happened to wonder about imprisoning people with such, finding little trouble in recruoting classmates to test. The end result of a perfect setup would apparently result in an almost inhuman caging. He didn't expect such an oppurtunity would be easy to find on someone though, and in practice, the jails of Shru'tal certainly had a more practical approach in the use of Magitech. Still just another week passing.
Week Thirteen The past week had been mostly outdoor classes, as the instructor wanted to make sure everyone knew how to properly apply mana and scale upwards in the size of their invisble force fields. Of course most of the coursework was finished, and so it also provided additiomal means of relaxing before the upcoming final exams.
Oratus didn't hesitate to immediately get to work, creating spell circles, and setting them to activate by pulling mana from the land. In doing so, he also made a timed failsafe, enclosing spell circles set to break the first ones in case of accidentally making the effect permanent.
Walking away, and coming right back, he felt a smack to his face, almost like a videogame character smacking into the edge of a map.The success gave him a bit of proud statisfaction.
Week Fourteen The time was almost here, and Oratus surely new it from the first class of the week, right up until the last. It was almost time for graduation, the culminating result of all these weeks he spent in lectures and practice.
The class'es focus had turned to review, as there was really little else to learn at that level, so Oratus had plenty of time to practice, and make sure that he could pass the exam next week. It had been a while since he had graduated from Arcane school, but he noticed something different that he also noticed when he graduated from there. His mana pools were becoming even easier to access, and he was finding a greater amount of ease in allowing mana to flow through the pathways of his arms, still having never used a staff up until then. The fruits of training motivated him to put unyielding effort into preparations, and so when the week ended, he knew he was ready.
Week 15 : Graduation The lengthy exams were arduous, to say the least, taking the entire week to complete. Both written work, and practical application composed its sections, long essays on mana-direction, scaling, typing, casting, and distribution taking up the first four days. The fifth and six days were nothing but application tests, deflecting punches, kicks, bullets, energy beams, fireballs and bodies from flying breaking through, and setting various effects to absorb the force, or deflect it. Such testing left all the students, even Oratus drained to the point of exhaustion, but at the very end, almost all of them were ready to give the last of their energy into celebration. A successful report meant that they had become Adepts in the school of Abjuration, and as such, would graduate.
The next day, each student was still tired, aching sore, and perhaps dizzy, but nonetheless looked very much presentable in blue and black robes. Oratus felt slightly annoyed that he couldn't wear his typical cloak to the graduation, but deemed it too unimportant to make a fuss about. Taking his certificate in his left hand, and shaking his instructor's hand with his right, a wide grin was almost permanently stuck on his face. An additional reward followed: "Top of the Class," which did nothing to help Oratus ease his cheeks. What was there to do next? Maybe leave Shru'tal to make his way to the lands he read of in the lores of the library? Or perhaps he could find himself in yet another school? He had trouble deciding, and figured he could do it later, after posing for the class picture.
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Rehynn Saarlith
Wanderer
Posts: 25
Registered: Sept 14, 2014 16:03:01 GMT -5
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Post by Rehynn Saarlith on Sept 28, 2014 14:42:06 GMT -5
Rehynn Saarlith School Training: (Pyrokinetic) Psionics and Hand to Hand Week OneRehynn sighed as she entered the school, again. It wasn't the first time; she already was adept in Illusionary magic. She supposed the people around her were either younger than her, or simply didn't have to learn so early. She wouldn't have been surprised. This time, she was back to study Psionics, and maybe a bit of Hand to Hand as well. She twisted her Mana Device around her wrist, looking around at the bustling crowds. It would be nice to have more of a combat focused upgrade this time. She still felt uneasy whenever her big mouth and attitude got her into fights. Not to mention her schooling... She shook her head, sizing up her new 'classmates'. Oh joy. The professor walked in, and she gave a mental sigh. Already, the eyes were flitting around the classroom, sizing up the students, judging them. The least she could do was learn well. If she surpassed the expectations of her, all the better. Her schooling had begun. After many hours of learning about the Psionics she hoped she would eventually be able to try, she still wasn't impressed. The teacher seemed to have taken a disliking to her calm, airy attitude, and singled her out for answer after answer. It was boring, but she began working out the different possible things that could go wrong if, say, she cast a fireball and it went wrong. Running through the possibilities in her head, she almost didn't notice when the professor asked her yet again what the advantages and disadvantages of hydrokinesis were. Refusing to look embarrassed, she leant forward and quickly thought through what she thought the teacher had said while she was paying half-hearted attention, and launched her reply.
Week TwoShe sighed. Week two wan't much better than the last, though they had started some practical work at last. Concentrating again, she frowned at the small patch of water in front of her. They had started with a rather boring practice, trying to lift the water and shape it into a ball. One or two students had managed it already, but the vast majority were still struggling. Rehynn glanced at the teacher across the room, where she was trying to help another student. She restrained a giggle when she saw the student's face; he looked like he was sucking a lemon while studying a dead animal. He gave a long grunt, but the water didn't so much as move a drop. She turned back to a student next to her who was busy making a long tendril of water. Debating whether to ask him to help, she tried to figure out what he was doing she wasn't. "Need help?" He asked, smiling at her. Too late now, she blinked, studying his face. "Sure." She shrugged, and turned to face him. "What am I doing wrong?" As he explained the various way she was making mistakes, it infuriated her to no end, how different ways could you go wrong in a simple task? She decided not to answer her thoughts, storing the information away. Afterwards, he tried not to smile as she gave an exasperated sigh, and said "Try it again now." Nothing much changed, but by her third try, she could lift it into the air, and soon she was shaping the water just fine, and she tried moving it around her in circles. When it obeyed her, she grinned; finally. The rest was much easier, so she began, while the professor wasn't looking, to create a watery likeness. She glanced at the boy next to her, who was chuckling at her art. She had a feeling he might be in some use of furthering her studies, so she made a mental note, and carried on. The Hand to Hand, Rehynn was doing better at. It was back to something that she already knew, really. She went during hours and after hours, continuously hitting the punch bag. First technique, then strength. There were very few other students, but they were all male as far as she could see. Four of them were already all bulk, while the other three were lean. She had swallowed her amusement when the instructor had told the bulky ones that most of their muscle would be useless for what they were doing, but their faces had almost set her off laughing again. She was the outcast among them, but it didn't bother her much. They were instructed the weak spots on the various life on Kalg'rai, and various holds and techniques. Whilst most of it was based on non-humanoid combat, they also practiced subduing holds on each other, though none that were of much use. Currently, they were still building up their strength. Week ThreeAlmost a quarter of the way through their training. The pace had finally picked up, and Rehynn had found the Psionics section in the library, starting to use different Psionics during the lessons and after hours as well. Sometimes she trained with the boy who had showed her how to use it at the start, sometimes alone. She went from being fairly average in the class to one of the top three, with the boy, and another girl. She steadily improved, managing to keep up and exceed in both her classes, Hand to Hand and Psionics. They were doing a pyrokinetic practical, seeing who could produce fire in the class. Linking it to what she already knew about making illusions, she managed it fairly easily after struggling or a bit; by the end of the lesson, half the class had managed, the other half looking disappointed. When the session was finally over, she escaped quickly, avoiding the crowds and heading for the library. Then, her Hand to Hand. Her Hand to Hand was going pretty well also, though they had only learned simple moves so far. The rest of the group left her alone, which was how she liked it. None of them seemed particularly interesting, and she managed to keep a relatively low profile. The main thing she stood out for was the fact she knew most of the answers to the questions, so the teacher left her alone. She wasn't too good, she wasn't too bad; none of the handful of others bothered her, and she didn't talk to them. All was well, and hopefully it would stay that way. Week Four Finally, Rehynn decided which Psionics she would pursue, that being Pyrokinetics, due to the diversity and destructive force of the skill. She had learned the general techniques, and finally began her specialized lessons, consisting of both techniques and theory. She gained a new instructor, much to relief, and her new class. She began to participate better when called on, and while she wasn't top in her class, she was at second at least, though joint. She hung on the edges of her class, escaping quickly once the lessons ended to return to the practice range, or the library.
Week Five Rehynn was so far greatly enjoying her new pyrokinetic class. Her extra studying finally payed off; when they were called to created fireballs, she did it with ease, and first. Then she summoned multiple, and then, when the instructor saw the relative ease in which she did these, they began, in the corner of the room, to teach Rehynn about how to divert the course of fire. It took her a while to warm up, and she started with diverting the course from one target to another, but by the end of the lesson, she was ably to -barely- divert the fire sent towards her by the teacher. She had escaped unscathed, mostly. A few singed hair strands and slightly toasted arms, she thought, were more than a fair price to pay for being ahead. She would have to rope someone into helping her practice, she figured. Her associate in her other class had chosen manipulating air instead of fire, though he may still be able to help her. She felt marginally bad for using him again, but put her education before all else. Now if she could just find him... Hand to Hand was going fairly average compared to pyrokinetics, and while she didn't shine above some o the others, she was still exceeding what the others had guessed of her. They had finally, finally moved on to sparring, and she delighted in practicing against the others. Though when she started to get attention, it was usually offensive remarks, she also had to put up with shoving, catcalls and multiple slights. Never when the teacher was looking, as usual, but she bode her time. She kept her head down, though in one of her spars she was put up against one of those against her. She contained a satisfied smirk, and instead put on a perfectly calm face. When it finally came to the actual sparring on mats, it took her only a few minutes to have in in a paralyzed position, pushing his arm hard enough for him to realize she could pop it out of it's socket anytime she liked. She held that position until she was asked to get off, and walked off casually afterwards, chuckling. It was the most fun she'd had in weeks.
Week Six
Week Seven
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Post by Xursyyl on Oct 1, 2014 15:57:07 GMT -5
Aerrisar Schools: Gravitational Magic and Psionics: PyrokenisisWeek OneGravitational Magic
The first day of school, surely one Aerrisar would enjoy, or dread. He knew little of what to expect, having done little more magick since graduation a Psionics class previously. Entering the classroom he wore his average attire, black shirt and pants, formal, yet casual. Taking a brief glance around the room he saw multiple students, some he'd seen before, other's he hadn't. He took a seat in the back of the room, opting to keep to himself, as he preferred. Not long after taking his seat, the other students calmed down. The bell sounded and shortly after a small, yet noticeable force weighed on each of the students, followed by the professor making their appearance. 'This'll be interesting..' He thought to himself.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
Four hours after his previous class, Gravitational Magic, Aerrisar made way to the Psionics Alley, where most if not all of the Psionic classes sat. Entering the Pyrokenisis room, he could instantly feel a deep warmth within, not enough to burn or cause one to sweat, but enough to have a difference than outside the room. Having graduated Electrokenisis the previous year, Aerrisar already understood a rough bit of Psionics, pulling him above the class. He took a look around, seeing only a few people he recognized, tagging most of them as newbies. He had a feeling he would enjoy this class. Week TwoGravitational Magic
The first week had gone by rather smoothly. Aerrisar had kept to himself, drawing little attention to him. The class had yet to really get into the practice of Magic, rather fell into explaining what it was and it's uses. This was normal of most classes, and because of that, bored him to no end. Day by Day he listened, learning little. He was itching to get into the Magic part of the class. He decided that after class that day, he would visit the Library and read up some simple spells and incantations. Something to solve his boredom of this class.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
Aerrisar had grown use to the warmth of the class, while it was apparent that others had not. The newbies bothered him, their arrogance and attempts to show off. A smirk constantly played on his face when one would offer to answer a question, only to be wrong in the end. Much like his morning class, there was little Magic going on, although without too much effort, Aerrisar was able to produce a small spark of flame, holding a flame for a great deal of time. He kept this to himself as he watched other's struggle with a simple spark. If he had enough time, he would read up on Pyrokenisis as well, trying to get an edge into the game. Week Three
Gravitational Magic
Between classes, Aerrisar had began some reading into Gravitational Magic. Much like the element of Air, it could be used to crush as well as lift, he figured. With some practice, he began to be able to levitate, reversing gravity slightly. He did this within secluded areas or the confines of his rental home, however. The class itself had finally began to practice Magic, and due to his studies, Aerrisar rose to the top swiftly, even to the extent of impressing the professor. He became a class favorite, even gained a couple enemies. At this point, he couldn't wait for the next week; the chance he'd finally get to test his abilities against a person.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
Much like his previous class, Pyrokenisis fell into practice. Like before, he read up on simple spells, allowing him to summon multiple fireballs at once, even combine them into larger ones. This was far ahead of anything the class could do. The professor, however, frowned upon this. Aerrisar was shunned, being told that doing such magic without being properly taught would cause him to hurt himself or others. With this in mind, he'd remember to keep his magic to himself until battles began. Week FourGravitational Magic
It was the week both he and a majority of the class had been waiting for: Sparring. The class began like normal, but before long it was transformed into a battle arena, each student facing another. The teacher had organized the class into a tournament style spar, and with each win, a student would move up a slot. To many's surprise, the nerds, geeks and outcasts moved up, easily beating the jocks, assholes and arrogant. Aerrisar, however, had continued his studies, even surpassing the smartest and wisest of the class. Without much effort, he ascended to the top, beating even the most trained of his class. Due to this, the teacher had began to think of ways to further test him. The next week would be rather interesting.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
Like his previous class, sparring was evident in this class as well. The first few matches Aerrisar held his own, using little more than the class physically taught. However, once things began to get hairy, he let his training show, easily beating class favorites as well as the arrogant ones who always seemed to boast their power and talent. To nobodies surprise, he rose to the top of the training session, which successfully angered the teacher more. However, one could not deny that Aerrisar knew what he was doing. Week FiveGravitational Magic
The next week was rather bland than the week before. Everybody was congratulated on their rankings within the class tournament. But everyone could improve, even Aerrisar. Shortly after the week began they fell into studying legends and champions, studying their techniques and how they chained attacks and different types of spells together. Aerrisar took careful note of each person they talked about, thinking about how he could further his knowledge. With some reading and a little work, he learned that one could alter gravity in order to levitate in the air. This gave one an advantage to be able to attack from both ground an air, rather than being stuck on the ground permanently. He enjoyed this idea.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
The week went rather slow, focusing on combos, charging and advantages. Much like his other class, they reviewed legends and wars, as well as how one would apply such arts and techniques to larger beasts like Minotaurs and legendary creatures. Aerrisar was singled out for each demonstration, although the teacher didn't physically teach him a lesson, he felt that this was a message to him, to relax and slow down. Regardless, he took what he could of such physical lessons, feeling he was learning more than the rest of the students because of this. Week SixGravitational Magic
The week had continued seamlessly, continuing the research on legends, wars and combos. Unlike the previous week, however, Aerrisar was no longer singled out. Each student was brought before the class and taught how to do a different technique. Some students succeeded, while others failed miserably, resulting in painful backlash. A couple of students where rushed from the class, however this did not seem unusual to the teacher, nor the paramedics. The work was getting more intricate, each class hour working on less spells, though each one more intricate than the last. Aerrisar wondered what the next week would entail.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
Starting the week off, the teacher called up various students, each one practicing a different technique against the teacher. Many of them where rather bland, some simple fire balls, others small waves. Each one was rather small. When he was called up, his was far more intricate than the rest off the classes. Bending Fire to his will, he was forced to arc it into a whip, lashing it out towards the teacher. His first few whips where rather small, breaking easily. However, with some work and concentration, he was able to wind it up his arm, lashing far enough to burn the teacher. He was congratulated for this. Week SevenGravitational Magic
Weeks of overview, research and chaining attacks had left Aerrisar bored of class. He understood well that it was necissary, and that he indeed was learning more and more each day. With the last two weeks being primarily research based, he was rather eager to begin casting spells again, especially some of the new ones he had learned himself. The professor was rather lenient on what spells could be practiced in the room, and noticed each student to be chaining the same--more or less-- spells together.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
With his acheivement the previous week, he was snowballed into being taught more difficult and intricate spells. For most of the week he was the guinea pig, demonstrating this spell and that spell, chaining whips and fireballs together. He was flawless. He no longer worried for the next tournament. He no longer worried what the class thought of him. More often than not, he found it hard not to chain attacks, rather than do so. He was beginning to let his lightning show in class, as well, although held it back for the most part. Week EightGravitational Magic
Aerrisar and the others of his class continued review and study into the next week. By now it was apperant the class yearned for more than book work. Some casted idle spells, while others used them to bully others. Aerrisar, however, used little magic, understanding that through work he would gain knowledge. Sure, the work was boring, but he also knew that the year was coming to an end and that this all lead up to something. Something big.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
Unlike his Gravitational Magic class, Aerrisar and the others in the class where casting magic daily, learning more intricate spells, as well as ways to improve upon what they already learned. Most seemed to be happy about this. As the week went on, however, students began to get careless, causing many spells to backlash upon them causing burns or small explosions. The professor didn't seem to care. Those that would be cautious, would learn control. Those who where reckless would learn failure. Week NineGravitational Magic
By this point in the year, many of the chapters had been completed and all that was left was to harden skills. Day after day students fought one another, not to be the champion, but to learn and practice. Aerrisar held his spot at the top of the class, but no longer tried to win, rather, he simply fought to tire his opponent out, what was rather easy for him, it seemed. Graduation was coming up and he knew that in order to do that, he'd have to pass both his written exams as well as physical exams.
Psionics: Pyrokenisis
Many students had gone in and out of the emergency room the past week, most of them arrogant or foolish, attempting to chain together large spells that they where not yet prepared for. Aerrisar took it slow, slowly chaining another attack to his past chain. Gradually, he stepped up his game once physical competition began, aiming to teach himself combos, rather than worry about winning or losing. He understood he wouldn't be the best, but he'd damn try.
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Post by Xursyyl on Oct 9, 2014 20:12:39 GMT -5
RoremSchool Training: Magic School: Illusionary Magic and Abjuration MagicWeek One
Illusionary Magic
Rorem's first day in Illusionary Class was rather uneventful. Entering the class room he understood instantly that many of the students where there simply for the credits, and not for the class itself. Most of the students had sat in the back of the room, leaving a majority of the middle open as well as the front. Sitting in the middle of the room, he decided would be best. Allowing him to stay out of the professors view, yet not far enough back to lose any information. As class started, the same boring information was repeated. The class was about this, this is what you'll learn, and expectations. Pulling up a half read book, Rorem read into Illusionary magic, rather than waiting for the class to begin, he decided it would be to his benefit to learn on his own.
Abjuration Magic
After a useless day of overview in Rorem's first class, he ventured to his second, Abjuration. Not much was different in this class than the first. Students sat in the back, the same information and overview was explained in detail. To Rorem's dismay, he had finished his Illusionary book, and had yet to find one on Abjuration Magic. This caused him to sit in silence, actively listening to the professor. Glancing at the clock, he had noticed that only half the class had gone by. This would be a long first week.
Home
After class, he figured he would venture to the library on his way home, dropping off his first book and checking out a few others. With little work, he found another few books on Illusionary Magic, however it took a bit more work to find some on Abjuration. However, with some time and a bit of luck, Rorem uncovered two on the magic, checking them out as well. He figured these would be finished by the end of the week, giving him some time to practice the arts before the classes even got anything covered. Week TwoIllusionary Magic
Thankfully, the first week had finished. Most of the information they had been told was rather useless, all of it summarizing this or an over view of this chapter and that. But finally; they had began to actually learn something. The first lessons where rather simple, explaining small usages for Illusions and what they could be used for. Outside of the book, the professor also gave some small examples of illusions, even to the extent of making some. This, to Rorem, was too simple for his taste, having already read up on what they're being taught. He was at least half a year a head of the class, and it was only his second week. What a bore.
Abjuration Magic
The week had gone by fairly slowly, although he spent much of his time reading into Abjuration and Illusion magic. Both seemed to be able to tie into one another in this way or that. The first few chapters where mostly over view, although some of them taught simple wards and spells, mostly ones you would cast in your home to keep predators out, or others to perhaps freeze a small animal. It was still too simple for him, although he would learn what he wasn't taught by the books.
Home
The books he had read both in and outside of class where rather good at explaining this and that. They explained when you would use a certain Abjuration ward, as well as how effective it would be against this or that. Wards covered his entire house, some fresh, other's nearly faded completely. At this point he had practiced placing wards on his swords and armor, seeing how long they would stay and how effective they would be. Soon he would have to check more books out, as he was on his last two.
Week ThreeIllusionary Magic
This week had began much better than the last. The summary of Illusions had ended, and they had thus began to actually cast them. For the majority of the class this was rather difficult. For a select few, including Rorem, this was simple, easy even. They where taught how to create sounds, first. Pings, pongs, booms and shatters. They where taught to condense them to a whisper and grow them to a deep boom. Rorem enjoyed these small lessons. They where easy for him, but allowed him to master what he had already learned by reading.
Abjuration Magic
Much like his first class, much of the over view had been completed, and the professor had began to teach certain spells. Most of the spells where rather simple, easy to draw and cast. The professor took note of who had troubles, and who didn't. With little effort, they grew a liking to Rorem, picking him out of the bunch due to his speed and steady hand. He would not spill his secret on how he had mastered such simple spells so easily. After class, the professor had asked Rorem to stay after in order to teach him some extra magic. He eagerly accepted.
Home
After his after-class session with the Abjuration Professor, Rorem returned to the library. Having finished his first selection of books, he fell into the idea of loooking up the next 'ranking' books, in order to learn even more than he already knew. With ease, he found both the Illusionary and Abjuration books. Rather than returning home right away, he stayed at the library, finding peace in the silence. Every now and then he would hear other's whispering about him, some saying 'cheater' other's saying 'nerd'. He paid no mind, knowing that through work he would gain power. Week FourIllusionary Magic
Now that the first week of review and studies of Figment magic had began and finished, the next on the list was Glamer. Glamer was rather simple, causing one to feel what was otherwise not there. Rorem new of Glamer well, although had been unable to test it due to the impracticality of testing it on himself. While most of the class was rather interested in the idea of altering ones mind to feel something different, Rorem was rather bored of the idea. 'It's only a week..' he thought to himself.
Abjuration Magic
Now that the small, simple wards of various usages had been learned, tested and taught, the next was up to begin. Physical wards where simple, made to protect one from harm. The class began by casting the ward on smaller objects like chairs, notebooks and personal items. As the week moved along the ward became more intricate, being cast on their desks and eventually themselves. This was easy for Rorem, having spent much time casting Physical Wards in his home. After-class the professor taught him much more of Physical wards, stuff that wouldn't be covered in class. He learned how to bind it to a weapon or piece of armor. He learned how to cast a ward quickly, in case someone was injured, or incase the ward broke and needed to be replaced. By the end of the week, Rorem was beginning to learn Magic Wards.
Home
Rorem hardly slept. It was still early in the year, but Rorem felt that he had already learned so much in a small amount of time. He knew that if he stayed up late again, that the next day of Illusion and Abjuration magics would be tiring, as they would now be testing what they had learned the previous week. He decided that he was far enough ahead of the class that he could rest for a while, rather than read further. And rest he did. Week FiveIllusion Magic
Glamer review the previous week went alright, teaching Rorem little while the rest of the class seemed very interested. Stunts where pulled in an attempt to bother Rorem, although most of them failed due to his training in Magical Wards. Nobody aside from the teacher understood what was happening. He was not ridiculed, although the professor did not exactly congratulate him, either. Rorem joined the class in casting small Glamers, feeling that perfecting the art couldn't hurt, although it wasn't necessarily his favorite.
Abjuration Magic
The previous week the class had learned about Physical wards and how to cast them, as well as their uses. This week, their knowledge was put to the test. These demonstrations where different than usual, however. Rather than the professor of the class demonstrating, Rorem did. Standing in front of the class, he deflected multiple attacks from his classmates. From using the Physical Ward to loose hand-to-hand counters, Rorem was unstoppable. This proved to teach both him and the class what one could do, should they master the art of Physical Wards. After class, the professor congratulated him on his work, and thus began introducing Magical Wards. These where still rather new to Rorem, but he had read much about them by now and was able to do most of the beginning lessons with relative ease.
Home
Rorem decided that the previous week had paid off. He had rested well after each class, reading little and ultimately giving himself a well earned break. This break was short lived, however, as he had come to notice that the classes where steadily catching up to his readings. Rather than sitting at the library and listening to the various whispers and mockeries, Rorem traveled home to read in peace, as well as practice his readings on his own. He focused on perfecting Magical Wards, as he was already a full lesson ahead of his Illusionary class. Week SixIllusionary Magic
Now that Glamer's had been fully covered, the next couple chapters where focused on the creation and usage of Phantasms. They where simple, really. Creation of an idea or image in a persons head. This could be used to draw a person away from a group, make one attack their friends, or simple self-destruction. Rorem personally enjoyed Phantasm Magic, although found it rather hard to practice. The next two weeks on this subject would allow him to further develop these skills.
Abjuration Magic
Completing the Physical Ward lessons where exhausting for most. For Rorem, however, they only served to teach him discipline, patience, control. While other's where able to create many wards, or perhaps a few strong ones, Rorem could do both, apparently doing far better than anyone else in the class. This week had thus began Magical Wards. While easy to cast, not any one ward could be used for too many things, and thus reading and reviewing usages and types would become rather crucial. After class, Rorem continued his training, learning to counter Physical wards, as well as shut them down. Additionally, the professor taught him to counter Magical wards with his own, drawing from the usage of their magic to counter-act it. The next week, he found out, he would be the teacher once more.
Home
Rorem was growing exhausted with class and reading. He understood that through hard work, he would achieve greatness. But did it really have to be this much work? Nevertheless, after a few hours of rest, Rorem returned to reading his second ranking books, on the last two of each. Soon, he figured, he would have to return to the library in order to obtain the last set of books. Hopefully they would give him the edge he would need to pass Examination. Week SevenIllusion Magic
The previous week had indeed taught Rorem some things that he had otherwise not originally learned from reading books in his free time. This week was no different than the last set of weeks. A week of review, lessons and discussion, and then a week of physical practicing. Like before, many tried to induce Phantasms on Rorem, however they only seemed to reflect back towards the caster. He would not admit it, but he was using Magical Wards as a means to protect him self, as well as teach many a lesson about knowing their enemy. Rorem was not one to underestimate.
Abjuration Magic
Most of the class picked up Magical wards as easily as they did physical. And like the previous week, Rorem went to work being the punching bag, as well as the demonstrator. This taught him timing, when to induce a ward, when to dodge an attack. It taught him patience, how large of a ward he needed, how much mana he would consume. It taught how to act in the heat of battle, keeping his cool while under attack from various areas. With time, he began to learn his classes simple moves, reacting to them and ultimately crushing his competition. He became good enough to survive multiple rounds of 1v4, the odds stacked against him. After class, the professor gladly fell into teaching him of Trespassing wards. He picked them up easily, impressing the professor further.
Home
Outside of classes, Rorem had successfully finished his second set of books, reading and becoming full able to create Phantasms and Patterns with ease. He also had finished reading upon Trespassing wards, giving him an edge in even after school lessons. He was rather proud of himself. Dropping by the library after school he rummaged around this section and that, finding only a handful of books, two on Illusion Magic, and two on Abjuration. He doubted that reading these would take him any more than a week. Then all that was left to do was practice and master the magics. Week EightIllusionary Magic
Phantasm Magic was loved by many, although many seemed to be wasting their time picking on others within the classroom. 'These idiots still haven't matured from the beginning..' Rorem thought to himself multiple times, always keeping a Magic Ward on him in the class. He did not fear the spells, rather did not want to waste time pleasuring others. This week the class focused on Illusionary Patterns, studying them and their uses. Rorem only browsed, knowing full well of their usage. Soon, he thought, they would learn of Shadows. His Favorite.
Abjuration Magic
It was clear by this point that the class looked up to Rorem, some maybe fearing his power and intelligence. Nevertheless, time and time again, students came and asked him for tips and tricks, although he really only told them what the book would eventually. This week the class began studying Tresspassing Wards. Similarily, students came and asked him tips and tricks for the wards. He once more taught them simply what the book would teach them. After Class Rorem finished his training in Tresspassing wards. 'This was it.' he thought to himself. However, the Professor now pulled him into sparring. He would not tell which technique to use nor what would be done against him. 'Fun.' he thought.
Home
Not to Rorem's surprise, he had finished the books within a week, no longer having anything else to learn but rather perfect. He started off with Illusions, chaining various Figments and Glamer together, creating various effects in a small amount of time. Then he moved up to larger spells, sometimes casting a ward or two within, as well. It was exhausting, but he knew this would lead up to perfection. Or Close.
Week Nine
Illusionary Magic
Most of the class had picked up Patterns quite well, though few could really figure out a way to use it inside the classroom. Despite this the professor taught small, harmless spells and how to cast them correctly and effectively. The professor seemed to know the difficulty of casting patterns in the classroom and thus, began teaching the class about Shadow Magic half way through the week.
Abjuration Magic
With the main section of chapter reading and reviews over, the class was broken up into brackets, each one focused on a different ward. As the week progressed, student fought student, some winning, others losing. There was no reward besides practice. Rorem was exempt from this training due to the professor's belief that Rorem had an advantage. Of which he did, of course. After class was more practice, much like the class, he went one on one, practicing, learning.
Home
Due to the rigorous training the Abjuration Professor put on Rorem each day after class, he felt little need to practice it further. Falling into heavy study of Illusion Magic, Rorem continued to practice and perfect Phantasms and Glimer. It wasn't the funnest of things he could be doing, but he would be sure that he knew what to do once the final tests came. Week TenIllusionary Magic
This week was a breeze for Rorem, already having read many books on Shadow Magic. The professor taught little the week, allowing the class to experiment and learn what they could do, twisting shadows and the such. Rorem joined in the session as well, although it was obvious he had prior knowledge of the subject. His spells where perfect, precise. He knew that this was the final week before the Tests began. He had nothing to lose.
Abjuration Magic
More Practice. What could Rorem expect, though. This week, however, he was the target. Like before, this taught him more than any of the students could imagine. As the week progressed, Rorem only became more capable, more agile. He began to guess moves, attacks, countering each of them perfectly. It was Easy. Rorem hoped that the test would be far harder than this. After class Rorem continued his training, and much like during class, he was forced to defend himself from multiple attacks. Little changed, aside from the fact that the professor knew what they where doing.
Home
Rorem now practiced Shadow Magic, finding it the last thing he needed to perfect. His earlier work with Shadow Magic in class did little, as he refused to try anything that the class itself did not physically teach. However, he knew that what he had read was more experienced, allowing him to do the beginner stuff with flawless ease. The next week testing would begin. He had to be ready. Week ElevenIllusionary Magic
This was one of the worst things you could do to Rorem. The class room was silent aside from the sublte scratch of pencil on paper. A written Test. The test was in simple format, following the order that they had learned each subject. It was now that Rorem would be able to show his expertise. He knew all of the questions, all though took his time in order to not raise suspicion of outside learning.
Abjuration Magic
Another boring written test. This test was a little different than the previous class. This test was not in order, and did not ask the easiest of questions. Some questions would ask what would the correct ward be for a situation, although two would be. Other questions where easier, asking for simple uses of a ward and why. Rorem finished the test in record time, despite many of the trick questions. Rorem no longer stayed after school, having finished the training the professor had provided him.
Home
Rorem no longer practiced, exhausted from the intense training the past few weeks. Rather, he relaxed, flipping on some TV and watching a few movies before bed. He needed to rest, as he had no idea what the next week would be like, nor who he would battle. He knew only only thing; he had to be prepared. Week TwelveIllusionary Magic
A few classes where still busy with their written tests, having more material than his class. So, rather than beginning testing once more, there was a week of break. Rorem's class was told what they would be tested on. Each of the Illusionary classes would be combined into a single massive group, tossed into a tournament that would take over the duration of two weeks. Rorem was a little nervous at the idea of this, having only trained with and against his own classmates, he was unsure what other students would have learned by themselves. Regardless, he had faith in his training and knew it would help him in the end.
Abjuration Magic
After a long week of written testing, various classes where still in test session, thus the physical testing could not begin. Rather, the students where told what would happen within the physical tests. Rorem learned that there would be two parts to the physical test in this class. One would work towards Teamwork, using wards to defend others, as well as slowing various monsters and beasts. The other part would be your average tournament-type test, each fighter against another. Rorem wasn't sure what would happen, but he couldn't wait.
Home
Rorem did not practice, nor did he train his skills. He was exhausted and knew that if he was not well rested and in the right mindset, the tests would not go well for him. So, he rested, letting the gentle bliss of sleep replenish him. Week Thirteen & Week FourteenIllusionary Magic
The written tests had ended in the schools, and now it all came to the physical testing, Rorem's Favorite. The Test was formed in a bracket formation, combining each of the classes into one large tournament. Due to the large amount of students within the class' whole, this tournament would continue over the duration of two weeks. Rorem was pitted against many of the same students he had trained with, although he was also paired with many he was not. Some of them had more training, some more tricks than he was use to. Despite this, Rorem flourished, taking full advantage of his personal training and using what he had learned in class to defeat his foes. By the end of the tournament Rorem had defeated each opponent with little difficulty and had succeeded in getting 'First Place' in the tournament. This did not cause Rorem to look down upon any, however, refusing to become arrogant in his victory. He knew he had won because of his studies, nothing more.
Abjuration Magic
The physical testing for Abjuration Magic was a little different than Rorem's Illusionary class. The test combined each of the classes into one large group. The first week of testing forced students to work together, dispatching Illusion-created beasts and monsters with wards and hand-to-hand combat. Rorem flourished, quickly becoming the 'Leader' of each part he was brought into. Each party Rorem commanded defeated the 'Boss' of each wave within record time. The second week of physical training forced the students to fight each other, using wards as defensive mechanisms. Similarly, the second week was broken into a small amount of various tournaments, allowing each tournament to take place within a week. At the end, Rorem was one of the victors, standing next to many people he had never met who had also won their tournaments.
Home
After a busy two weeks, Rorem was exhausted. He had trained and trained and finally, it had all come to the end. School was nearing it's end and he had nothing more to do. He relaxed, not bothering to worry about training any more. Rorem relaxed at the end of each day, resting. Week Fifteen: GraduationClasses had ended for the year and it was graduation time. All of his hard work had led up to this. This single day. Rorem sighed in relief, looking in to the mirror. His black and blue gown looked perfect on him, giving him an elegant yet devilish look. He didn't mind, although wished he could be wearing his tan outfit. He quite enjoyed it. With a small shrug, he left his dorm room, joining the rest of his graduating class. To begin, the victor's of each Tournament was brought before the class. This meant Rorem was up there twice, one of Illusion, then again for Abjuration. He didn't mind, although he had to give a speech each time. They where short and sweet, talking about the future, experience and the sort. It was rather cliche, actually. After the victors had finished, each student went and grabbed their diploma. This was it. He had graduated. Rorem looked down, reading the golden lettering on the scroll. He had done it.
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Post by HERO on Nov 1, 2014 11:47:49 GMT -5
Oratus School Training: Conjuration Magic, and Firearm: Pistol
Week One"Hm...what should I pick next?" Oratus asked himself while looking at the options presented before him. The booklet he was holding had marks cutting off the things he didn't care to learn, and thick red circles around what he did. Little did he know last time that he was able to take two schools at a time, instead of just the one like he had. That would've been good for him to know, but what's done is done.
Flickering his eyes back and forth between the items on the list, he settled on two schools: Conjuration Magic, and Small Firearms. Conjuration he knew he would need eventually for his future travels, especially when it came to the dangerous situations he would come to be facing in a certain destination he longed to see. Healing magic was a must, and in his daydreams he imagined finding himself beings to call upon when he was in need. Firearms was more-or-less a digression, a way to ease himself by strengthening ability to understand using and defending against them. He indeed took it upon himself to learn Abjuration, and could deflect or catch bullets with magic, but it would still be a boon for him to take the training. Come this time in fifteen weeks, Oratus understood that he was to feel prouder and more powerful than ever. He took off to the admissions building with haste, letting his cape glide across the air with every stride.
Week Two Oratus sat back in his chair, keeping a delicate balance on the hind two legs and letting the musings of his mind flow in everywhich direction. Of course he was sure to keep listening, and paying attention at the same time, allowing the little tape-recorder in his mind to collect every word in the lecture. It was mostly introduction so far, starting with an overview on Mana, how to pull it, and where to pull it from as well as what Conjuration was and why it was imperative for people to have it. Healing was emphasized when mentioning groups of travelers in this part of the lecture.
When Conjuration class let out, Oratus then walked off into the street, and made his way to the next class. For this week, firearm safety, and handling procedures were to be beaten into their head constantly, almost every few minutes. Sitting down for lecture, the instructor would ask,"When firing on targets, where must you always aim your weapon?" Entering the range, he'd say, "You, give me one of the safety rules! And then you give another!" Oratus would not have to try hard at all to remember any of the ones given.
Later in the evening, he would make his way home, arms stretched with his hands in the back of his neck, looking up at the sky. His mind free to wander once more, he thought of the weeks ahead.
Week Three The third week was where the lessons really started. Holding down two classes at once was something Oratus was glad to do, and thanks to the way his mind could absorb information like a sponge, he had no trouble retaining it all.
In the mornings, he would attend Conjuration school. It happened to be the last day of the week when most of the first-timer students came to get a full hold on mana-usage and control. Following a lecture, and a demonstration of what was to come, the class had then moved onto practice. Pulling mana out of pools, and holding them wasn't much of a trial for Oratus, but contacting the assigned extraplanar energy was. He wasn't at all accustomed to using his mana like that, and actually found it confusing to write a spell-circle for. 'Eventually I'll image it correctly,' he figured, leaving the classroom to walk out into the streets.
Down the block was the Firearm school, and there the lessons were moving forward, past safety rules, and onto properly handling a weapon. Every student was assigned a pistol with a unique number on it that they would pick up at the start of class, and turn in at the dismissal bell. Everyone was also, of course, given earplugs for protection from the loud sound of gunfire. Starting from 15 meters, each student then learned out to properly load the pistols and aim at the targets before pulling the trigger.
"A fun day, indeed." Walking home, he tapped the back end of his inking tool against his teeth, trying to think of an algorithmic way in which he could make conjuring that entity easier.
Week Four Oratus'es Conjuration class continued lessons on creating connections to other planes. He knew very well exactly how such a thing was to be done, however it took him a little to fully put together how he was to use his mana to maintain the connection. The plane contacted was small, insignificant, and empty, but there was still a sense of accomplishment in it. He knew that after making a good connection once, it was then time to do it again, and again so that his Magi-tech Mana Device could adjust, and build in proficiency. He admittedly felt quite tired when he had to leave for Firearm school, but this was remedied by a short rest on the steps.
When he would come to Firearm school, he would continue handling, sighting, and aiming lessons. In went the earplugs, and loaded were the cartridges before being shoved forcefully up the butts the pistols. The firing line then lit up with muzzle flashes, and the targets across the expanse were torn into in several areas. He knew he would need practice, as his grouping wasn't tight at all. Rather, he hit across the top half of the target.
At the end of class, he put his weapon on safe, removed all the ammo from the magazine, and handed it all to the instructor before walking home.
Along the way there, he took it upon himself to stop by a small store, and pick up a new pocket-sized notebook, and another somewhat bigger notebook. The one he had been using all that time was nearing three quarters filled, and there was no sense in not further making use of his wonderful arcane magic.And so the night would be spent by the warlock meticulously re-drawing his adept-to-higher level spell circles into his new notebooks.
Week Five The fifth week's set of Conjuration lessons were particularly interesting for Oratus. This week, the focus was on creating extra-planar spaces, spaces where they could store objects to summon forth in times of need. Put into perspective, a typical use of this would be traveling long distances without need to carry large weights, for as long as you have mana left to summon them. Or as least that's how the instructor explained things to the class.
During application time, Oratus felt that he was definitely having an easier time creating a small extra-planar space than he did contacting the instructor's the previous week. However, it did take more mana out of him, a lesson he had to learn when he realized he couldn't bring the space to a size more than a few cubic feet. If he wanted to he could probably craft a spell to teleport himself inside, and hide from life-threatening dangers. As if that'd ever have to happen...
In Firearms school, Oratus was working hard on improving his skill with the assigned pistol. Stillness was still difficult for him to show when aiming, but breath control was becoming clearer than ever. Each squeeze felt more controlled, and his groups were becoming tighter with every practice fire. 25 feet away, he was mostly hitting what he wanted, and indeed, it was true that small firearms were simple to learn after all. He wondered what was in store for the future, upcoming classes. Mentally, he wasn't thinking very creatively with pistols as he probably could've with magic.
Week Six Continuing to attend Conjuration School, and train in the use if creating and expanding extraplanar spaces, or if taken to further extremes, masters of the art aspired create their own realm over time, becoming themselves intervening magical deities, practically. What a dream. Oratus would love to be one of those who finally reach such a goal after long hours of research, but for now, he had less otherworldly desires. After a little practice, he was able to create large enough spaces to store crumpled up pieces of paper. Using arcane magic, he found it easy to transport the object there, and sense its presence floating about inside.
Firearms school was less exciting, but still always practical. In went ear plugs, forth slid his weapon, quickly cleaned was the barrel, even faster was it loaded, and ever steadily was it fired. In fact, it was much more steady than the week before."And I yet improve," Oratus said to himself with some stratification, leaving the building.
Week Seven Week Seven in his newest courses of schooling, and Oratus was keeping focused well enough to make further progress in his studies.
In the mornings, Conjuration lectures would take a few hours to sit through. Creating extra-planar spaces were behind them now, and now the class was on to summoning. Or to be more specific, the lessons were now set to be focused on summoning the objects that exist within otherworldly spaces. Yeah, kind odd, but it was a simple enough progression for the most part. Oratus could take some time to create an otherworldly space, put pieces of paper inside through the quick use of a spell circle, and summon it right back. Just before class ended, he managed to store away his larger notebook away for safe-keeping, and remembered to not collapse the space this time.
Firearm school was starting to get unimaginative for Oratus, the same targets being fired upon, the same weapon procedures being followed, the same sights and feels. There was a few changes at least in the structures holding the targets however: half-way through the week they began to move. Forward and backward were simple enough to start with, so the instructor chose that for the students. So long as he could keep his iron sights level, Oratus didn't find much trouble in it compared to normal. The bigger challenge would probably come to him next week.
Week Eight 'Practice makes perfect' isn't exactly a rare or archaic phrase, but the instructor made it sound like one when Oratus summoned and dispelled his larger spellbook. "Is that so?" he asked with a chuckle, repeating the action again, and again. Larger stores of mana were becoming available to him as his Magitech Mana device was adjusting. All the while, Oratus made sure to channel as much of the mana as he could through every inch of his arms, working at improving their conductibility for mana.
At class end, the instructor congratulated everyone on a job well done, and informed everyone of upcoming lessons. When the bell rang, Oratus dismissed his conjurable once again before walking out behind the horde of excited students. His firearms class took the whole time to go over weapon identification, and different means of crafting and modifying handguns. Oratus decided it best to keep in mind there being bare weapons, and augmented weapons. Augmentations could be possibly speed-reloader magazine clips, scops, double grips, enhanced sights, or mana-drive mechanisms for delivering extra power. There was even mention of a pure-mana-shot gun. "Hm...were I to use some Arcane magic with that..." His monologue was interrupted by the Firearms instructor's declaration, "You all shall get familiar with these right after accustomization to revolvers. Class dismissed!"
Week Nine He felt an interesting form of sensation, a strange kind of rush overtake his body. 'This is the feeling of the conjured energy I pulled,' he thought to himself, hands cupped while held just a few inches apart, with feet and shoulders square. A single breath broke the focus, and a tilting up of the head then made the energy dissipate. The plane they had all tapped into provided vigor, whereas other planes they were informed of could provide healing magic. Good to know, but not necessarily safe to test was the thoughts of the instructor in opting for vigor energy first instead.
Firearms class was switching things up with a new lesson. Every student turned in their 10 mm for the last time and were handed back old-style Magnum .357's to use, an ancient, but reliable relic in these times. A noticeably stronger 'kick' recoil and larger ammo size were the first things Oratus noticed while taking a few shots. He could feel the densely packed power in the weapon. He as well as the rest of the class chose to become more familiar for the rest of the day over listening to lecture. They had the time anyway.
Moving on his way home, he took the time to write some spell circles for himself, making the art of conjuration a little more automated when it came to calling forth healing energy. As little energy as it took, it wasn't necessary, but still he didn't wanna get sloppy in crafting his magical algorithms.
Week Ten Summoning energies was quite simple for the students to learn, and so no one felt rushed when the lesson moved up to summoning creatures. "This is certainly the most mana-costly form of conjuring art you can perform in a short bout, as it takes a large amount of mana to pull forth a life form fully intact, much larger than it does to pull forth an inanimate object. Primarily, the reason for this is suspected by many to lie in the life force itself, but further study of this has been avoided by those who wish to remain as far as possible from the dark arts."
Oratus'es attention was certainly caught with the lecture when he heard that. His longing to go never ceased, for he knew where the dark arts were taught.
Application wouldn't start yet, or rather, there would be no application that whole week, just notes and lecture.
In firearms class, the students sat quietly to listen to a lecture on the differences in revolvers and typical handguns, and then the history of each common handgun throughout the ages. Not very riveting, but parts involving outstanding defeats as a result of weapon jamming was entertaining.
Walking out of the classroom, he let boom a huge yawn, and awoke the nearby birds from their serene restful states of meditation. He couldn't help but laugh.
Week Eleven Finally onto the good stuff, Oratus was able to play with working at conjuring small beasts. These beasts weren't very...impressive...but they were nonetheless alive, breathing, fur-balls that could fit in his hand. Big eyed pets of the school apparently, with tiny beaks that let them eat the seeds dropped before them.
With a smile, a wave of his hands would quickly dispel the conjured beasts, and make them vanish in a blink. Magic.
In Firearms class, it was time for the students to experiment with different modifications, and augmentations on a variety of weapons. Pistols, machine pistols, and revolvers were available for them to purvey. Oratus particularly liked the use of extended barrels with revolvers, as the weight balance would help reduce the kick, and allow him to get off more accurate shots with less time in between them. In addition to this, he also began work on a spell circle to generate stores of mana within the shell of a round, and provide more power with a charged shot. The mechanics were a little tricky, but a template was doable at least as he walked home.
Week Twelve Getting on with Scalability made for another busy week. When moving past summoning small Furbols and lizards, there would turn out to be other planes that, just like energy, you could conjure beings from. The usefulness of these beings however would depend on how or why you summoned them, and why they would have reason to follow or listen to you. You could just as well summon a demonic goat from some far-off land only to be buckled into the air by your knees. Apparently it's best that you gain some form of fellowship beforehand, or else you just might struggle more than is worth it.
In Firearms school, the majority of what would go down from then on would be practice, practice, practice, with a heaping side of practice. Practice tests were given on draw speed, loading speed, accuracy, efficiency, and safety. Each one right after the next. There happened to be a safety violation from another student this week, him turning around when he though someone called his name, and waving the barrel around the room. He was of course promptly tackled and disarmed by the instructor, who simultaneously shouted, "Cease Fire!" That at least provided some amusement for Oratus during the class.
Week Thirteen In Conjuration school, the basics of scaled summoned were pretty much gotten down by everyone in the class, or at least all the students that were doing what they could to. After a great deal of practice, Oratus had found himself becoming more and more accustomed to the Conjuration arts, and mostly only struggled to gather the mana for calling forth the Golem, a construct created by the school and accessible from within the lecture hall. The massive, hulking, stone-like beast took an incredible amount of mana to summon, but one would feel accomplished after the effort. If only he had a golem of his own to personally use, he thought. As he was quite tired, and class was coming to an end, he dispelled the beast, and walked towards the entrance, timed just right so that it would ring when his foot hit the floor outside the room.
Firearms class remained quite the same in many ways, however there was a twist in the range's functionality again. Now students could opt to have their targets move in different directions, a way of building the skill needed to hit moving targets. Oratus made sure to pick a different direction in each practice run, and after several shots, came to a new conclusion: the distance between him and the target is covered so fast, that the same procedures apply as to hitting a still target. Aim in on the sights, breathing control, remove safety, squeeze and roll. Another reason to be satisfied as far as he was concerned. By the end of the week, he was able to perform similarly as to when he was hitting a still target.
Week Fourteen It was almost time for finals, and despite the typical laidbackness of the students around him, Oratus just knew that people around him were starting to get the sniffles a little to often. The stress of the rigorous days ahead must've already been getting to them. He could practically imagine snot just oozing out onto half the test papers next week.
It was a good thing that the actual lessons were all over, and that all that was left was review. Starting with the simple, and scaling bigger, Oratus allowed the flow of mana to travel through his arms, and connect to a plane full of vigorous energy. Next, he pulled from his own personal extra-planar space to conjure his large notebook of spells. And lastly, he focused his energies into conjuring a benign, but colossal Golem, spending the last of his tappable mana. His instructor was pleased, and told him not to worry about the exam next week.
In Firearms school, much of the same as the previous week took place, although this time everyone was practicing for score. Standing, and kneeling, everyone fired upon both still and moving targets, letting loose a volley of violent projectiles hurling into the opposite side of the range. Oratus was hitting bullseye most of the time, having gained as much practice and drilling as he had. The handgun exam shouldn't be very difficult either, he thought.
Week Fifteen Week Fifteen, the moments all students wait for, it seeming so far and distant from the beginning, but so sweet when it arrives. How many months has it been again since he first finished his Arcane training? Thirty months is enough education to equip him for his journeys ahead, right?
The way it ended up, Oratus was right in his prediction the previous week. His fellow Conjuration student body's immune systems were suddenly in some terrible states. Whether this was spread amongst each other, or brought on by the stress of exams, Oratus was hard pressed to find someone else who wasn't sick. Sniffling and wheezing were abound when it came to sit down for the writing portions of the final examination. Oratus made sure that they wouldn't distract him however, and sped his way through the test. Come time for applications testing, the others' colds weren't seeming as bad, but there was still some powerful sneezing and hacking going on. The tests this time involved conjuring up different energies and beasts of various sizes and planar origins. All things learned in the weeks leading up to it. Oratus didn't have to struggle very much at all.
Firearms school was more or less exactly what would be expected during Finals Week. The examinations consisted primarily of several rounds of "fire-for-score" in which case students receiving a high enough score would pass. During the second round, it would just so happen that Oratus would himself pass, hitting bullseye on most of his targets. For the rest of the week, he took the option of attending, but would quickly walk off to the building's library to read up on lore, and skim news feeds for the newest and latest in Arcane research.
On the final day, Oratus got to attend two graduation ceremonies. Conjuration in the morning, and Firearms school in the evening. In both ceremonies he and his fellow classmates were dressed in dark blue robes, exchanging firm handshakes and smiles with their instructors while receiving their certificates and Proof of Training diplomas.
Juggling both scrolls in his hand on the way home, Oratus thought on the future ahead of him. "Hm...maybe...just maybe it's time to figure out how to prepare..."
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Post by DC on Dec 9, 2014 9:22:41 GMT -5
Cynterialis School Training: Close Range: Swordplay
Training & PreludeThis is Cynterialis' training, as well as a prelude to the story that "officially introduces" Cynterialis to Kalg'rai.Week OneCynterialis was ever the mysterious one of the school. Everybody wanted to talk to him; everybody wanted to learn why he was so secretive and why he never talked. But their results proved the same thing that they already knew of him: he wouldn't talk. Many of the students figured that he'd warm up as the training came underway, but some of them weren't so sure. They didn't even recognize him from anywhere. He certainly didn't look like he belonged from any village or town they have ever heard of. They wondered why he looked mummified from his waist to the bridge of his nose, but when they asked, as per norm, they received no answer. Some questioned if he was mute. He may as well have been, since he never talked at all.
Cynterialis thought, however, the time will go by slowly, if these kids keep bothering me... I'll never be able to focus on my ability. Then again... they are so unfocused that I doubt half of them will graduate...
On par with his thoughts, Cynterialis was quick to the pick-up. This seemed to draw up even more curiosity from the other students. They wondered if he even had capabilities with using his mana. They weren't sure if he even had a MagiTech device. It was required by universal Kalg'rai law, however, this guy seemed to be an oddball to the equation. Something that threw it off... Week TwoBy the second week, Cynterialis had come to be known as the mute warrior; he hadn't said a single word throughout his entire time spent within the school. Students envied his ability, but some of the students with higher intelligence recognized why he was doing so exceptionally well. Without the distraction of social life, he had all the time in the world to study and practice. He never dueled anybody, however, which added to the mystery. Where did he practice, and who was it with?
Teachers didn't really pay him any mind. They didn't waste their time complimenting him; it's not like they'd ever get a response from Cynterialis anyway. Cynterialis obviously had potential, but he obviously didn't have the temptation of boasting. Could he even talk? Week ThreeBy week three, Cynterialis' lead started to matter a little less. Some of the more adept students were reaching Cynterialis' level, however, they just couldn't quite catch his lead. The most threatening student for Cynterialis' place as best in class was a female by the name of "Senira". Senira was popular, which probably helped her in some regard, as many of the other students would do anything to get a shot of being with her. Such things could include the best of the male sword-style apprentices teaching her things that they learned or were better at in the lessons of swordplay.
Cynterialis was on his own, however, he was not complaining. He wouldn't have it any other way.
Still, students questioned if he even had a MagiTech mana device, as well as if he could even use his mana. They could sense that he had a massive mana pool, however, that baffled them more, since he never seemed to use it in the slightest. What was he hiding? Week FourThe fourth week. There was a clear rivalry—no; Senira was clearly angry that she had opposition for the spot as best in class. She couldn't believe nor accept that she was underneath someone else. This caused her to be motivated to try much harder. In any spar she was in, she no longer toyed with her adversaries. Immediately upon the start of her duels, she would knock down her opponents with extreme efficiency. She wouldn't challenge Cynterialis just yet, however, it was clear that she was going to. Rumors of it started to spread among the other students. The matter was actually so drastic that it started to spread to other schools. This was mainly because the kids starting rumors and carrying them on, at least some of them, weren't just taking the swordplay school.
When the duel was to take place, there would be a huge crowd to see it. They were all excited for it to happen, but it was clear that Cynterialis didn't care. He didn't crack or even show the slightest interest in the rumors spreading, and he, as per norm, said nothing in response to people questioning him. He didn't seem to care, and that fact alone seemed to piss Senira off more. The storm was brewing, and eventually, something would have to spill over. It was only a matter of time. While Senira was stepping her game up in impressive ways, Cynterialis continued to play his own game. Just do enough to demonstrate his skill, without causing a scene of it as Senira did. Everybody expected Cynterialis to win each fight, but he didn't seem to be phased or excited by it. It was just a phasing through the motions, whereas Senira had the mentality that each fight was a step closer to her beating Cynterialis.
It was clear that she intended on doing more than just beating him at a simple duel, but nobody dared breathe that much. Week FiveThe anticipation made the air so heavy one could think the swordplay would cut it into pieces. There were less duels in the classroom and on the school's training grounds, mostly because people stopped training so publicly in anticipation for the big showdown that they knew would become of Senira and Cynterialis. Cynterialis had broken his reputation of being mute by telling Senira to move. The fact that he spoke took her so off guard that he was able to push past her, nearly knocking her over. This reignited her furious goal of beating him. If not just reignited, it made the desire that much stronger.
But now, everybody knew that Cynterialis wasn't mute; he just didn't talk much. This revelation caused people to start reconsidering his ability to use magic, and if so, what he could use. If he had taken up a school in it, why didn't anybody recognize him? Nobody had answers, and the revelation caused many more questions to spark up. But at the same time, Cynterialis broke his silence by ordering Senira. Maybe he did want to shut down her momentum?
Petty games... he thought rather condescendingly. However, this was yet another thought that was not expressed in the slightest. He had taken note of everybody's observing everything he did, of Senira's passion, of the decrease in public duels. Cynterialis was still focused on his primary goal.
If she has the guts to challenge me, perhaps I will answer my peers' questions regarding magic. Maybe. It depends on how far this girl is willing to go. How much passion will drive her in the fight. I highly doubt she will step to lethal levels; she doesn't want to die and doesn't want to face charges for it... but maybe.... Week SixCynterialis was anything but blind to the still rapidly ascending drive that Senira expressed. He became quite aware that she was losing her logical thinking in this childish desire to be the number one in the class. The truth is, Cynterialis didn't care one way or another. He wouldn't purposely lose, but it's not like he really wanted to be the best in the class. He had actually hoped another would take that place. He wouldn't have cared if he was the worst in the class. But it just so happened that he wasn't.
Then again, he knew that he couldn't have expected such a position. After all...
No, I need to focus on here and now. No distractions.
During one of the classes, a note was left on his table specifically for him. It was triple-folded and left so the fold would be on the surface of the table. The back had his name clearly written in it; it was in black ink. And it was not handwritten.
Nobody had bothered to touch it, and Cynterialis already had his suspicions about what it was and who it was for. How cute. A formal challenge. I didn't think she was capable of such.
He knew what it meant, though. There was one loophole in the laws of Kalg'rai. If a deathmatch was made an official challenge, then it was not against the law to kill. Many exploited this, but not many actually accepted death challenges. He unfolded the paper, and read it over. He didn't express any real response, but he was amused. The last week, it was is challenged to be taken place.
Very well. Week SevenCynterialis had a few more things to think about, at this point in the game. It was, just about, the halfway mark through the schooling, and that meant the instructions and mandatory, graded spars would become more intense, more demanding. The instructors pushed people far harder, and expected far more. Only the best would graduate from the school. And most of the students here were a disgrace, in their opinion. Though the teachers were also concerned; the two best swordfighters in the class were to have a deathmatch the last week.
It was scheduled to be a part of the graduation ceremony, by Senira's own official declare. Since Cynterialis accepted it, the school was bound to play by its stated conditions. News of it spread like wildfire. Cynterialis was not bothered by the whispers and the rumors regarding the deathmatch, nor did he particularly seem to care that his life could be over by the last week. There was only one thing that caused him to even think about the deathmatch...
Where did she get my name...
Cynterialis already had a plan, however. It was an ingenious plan that would not only cover his tracks, but save people from the same knowledge that they sought to acquire. They wanted to know if he could use magic, and many had seen his name on the back of that triple-folded paper. Cynterialis had to fix that. There could not be a trace of who he really was. Nobody was supposed to know. The plan was foolproof, as long as the fight went as he figured it would. He noted how hard the instructors pushed Senira and himself specifically. Apparently, if they were to fight to the death, the instructors wanted it to be a damn good fight.
Everyone is getting antsy, and we're only halfway to the end... Week EightUpon the time of week eight in the schooling, some of the students were getting too antsy to complete their training. Many discussions of where students will go after training had made their way across the school, as some would watch swordplay spars, and on the way home, or to the school. Students were starting to lose their patience. They wanted to head out in life. They wanted to experience whatever life had to offer, and the schooling was getting in the way of it. Some of them started to regret taking up the secondary schooling for melee.
Some of them even regretted it so much that they dropped out.
The numbers were starting to dwindle, however, others remained strong. Soon, there was a sort of progression of skill in those that remained. A totem pole of talent in swordplay. But Senira was hungrily waiting for her chance to become the top part of the totem poll.
Cynterialis still didn't care. Week NineThere were six weeks left to go. Training was still getting harder. The number of students in the class still remained enough to be called a class, but people took note that of the schools, they had the smallest class. Was it always like this? Was swordplay really one of the toughest schools to beat? Or did everyone drop out of secondary schooling since they didn't technically need it...?
Cynterialis was still relatively mute. After his one word to Senira, he hadn't spoken again. Students sometimes pushed for him to speak, even using his name, which caused his eyes to drift to the one addressing him, but they realized their mistake as soon as his cold, dark brown eyes fell onto the one using his name. Soon, people stopped using his name, for fear that he would actually do something to them.
The instructors never used his name. It was always "you", or "shirtless", or "student 1". The instructors knew of the totem poll that was becoming established, and they understood the other kids thought of Cynterialis on top, so nobody made the mistake of thinking that the instructors were talking to them when the instructors said "student one". On top of that, they used everybody's names every time they addressed someone, so it was universally understood that the lack of specifying a name meant they were talking to Cynterialis.
Cynterialis still had the official deathmach challenge paper, and sometimes he pulled it out to review it, imagining the emotions she would have felt in writing it. Maybe she didn't even write it; maybe she had someone else write it. It did have an official signature on it; one of the mentors of the swordplay school, to be specific. Oddly enough, the same one that seemed to favor Cynterialis.
Interesting... Week TenWeek ten was an interesting week for all the students of the school of swordplay. Especially for Cynterialis.
A special guest had arrived to the school to demonstrate what a master swordsman was capable of, and all of the students were impressed, excluding Cynterialis. He watched the male, and deducted that the man was holding back a lot of information. He knew this man quite well, as a matter of fact. That is how Cynterialis knew that the man was holding back.
It is impressive that he'd make so bold of a move... Cynterialis thought quietly. He was the only one not oohing or ahhhhing the advanced tricks the man had demonstrated.
Why is he here... why is he checking up on me? What is going on...? Cynterialis' mind was racing. Was something going on? Why was he left out of it? Something big was going to happen... and Cynterialis felt that he wasn't ready for it. The man demonstrating occasionally glanced to Cynterialis, however nobody else seemed to notice. After a few test runs of some of the tricks with other students, the man introduced a far more advanced trick to the students. He taught them the motion, but Cynterialis didn't participate. He knew this one quite well. Almost as if on cue, the man told Cynterialis to demonstrate it.
"You've got mastery of this trick, don't you, kid?"
He's pretending to not know me...
"Come demonstrate it for the class!" Cynterialis did as he was told. He had an obligation to. Not just as a student, but for a mutual reason between them... Both of them took up a sword, crossed them in formal duel openings, and then backed up a few steps. Cynterialis had other plans, though. He listened to his instruction to demonstrate, however, he wouldn't demonstrate the technique that the man was demonstrating to the class. The man expected Cynterialis to mirror the technique, however, he was extremely surprised when Cynterialis, in an extremely fluid motion, slapped the man's blade up hard with an inward-angled upward motion, and then switched his momentum to smash the hilt into the man's tricep region, just on the nerve. This caused the man's arm to fall limp, and Cynterialis had the time to redirect his blade so the tip pointed at the man's throat.
"You shouldn't be here," Cynterialis almost growled.
The entire class, including the instructors, were completely stupefied by the turn of events. Not only did Cynterialis show up the "master swordsman", but he even seemed to know him. There was more to Cynterialis than what everybody knew.
Cynterialis lowered the blade when the man gave him a certain look, and then the man turned to the class.
"That wraps it up, guys. Thanks for having me." With that, the man left, and Cynterialis headed out shortly after, though not to catch up with the man. Week ElevenThings just got more and more enigmatic as people learned things, or at least, were introduced things of Cynterialis. The more people found, the less they knew. Senira was seething; she loathed Cynterialis for showing up a quote on quote master. She was highly offended. But inside, it caused her drive to waver slightly. He could show up a quote on quote master swordsman. If he could surprise a master, then what could he do to a girl like herself who was only trained in fifteen weeks of swordplay school?
Cynterialis' quandary was much more intricate, however. Things weren't adding up. Senira knew his name, now, and the man had shown up. Obviously, his presence meant something specifically to Cynterialis himself, something that was unbeknownst to the other students or even teachers. There were now four weeks left. Everybody was getting antsy for the finals. Everybody was getting antsy for the big showdown.
But people were already becoming more and more certain that Senira didn't stand a chance. Week TwelveCynterialis became aware of the fact that Senira was becoming impatient. He could tell that the time she herself had declared was testing her patience. He had, at first, wondered why she'd wait so long for the challenge, but he had figured out a possible answer after the first week after receiving the challenge. She was torturing herself through time so she'd be even angrier and more forceful in the match. She wanted to fight as strongly as she could so she could, in her mind, shatter Cynterialis' attempts with humiliating efficiency. She not only wanted to end his life, but she wanted to humiliate him before she did so.
This amused Cynterialis.
Exams were starting to be talked about far more often. There wasn't a written part to the school's exams. The exams were just demonstrations of instructed sword styles, and then a match against a judge with training-swords. The weapons were not harmful, unless one were to put enough force into the swing. It would only do blunt damage, in such a case, yet it wouldn't be enough to break anything. It was meant to be used for training without any injuries.
Cynterialis wouldn't have such a simple task. He would be using a real blade, with a sharp edge, with a shine of the metal, with a weight of a real blade. He would be fighting with an actual sword, and so too would Senira. A single slash could be the end of the match. A simple mistake could be an undoing of either of them. But Cynterialis wasn't worried. He'd keep a cool head. Week ThirteenThere were only two weeks to go before graduation. Cynterialis had a lot on his mind, at this point. It still didn't distract him much from his training in the school, however, it was enough to cause minor things, such as his delayed reaction to showing any acknowledgement to his instructor's addressing him. Despite his practically being mute, it was evident that he had a lot on his mind. He had more on his mind than the students' thoughts of graduation and the deathmatch to come.
Deathmatches were uncommon in Kalg'rai, especially at such a young age group. Deathmatches were arranged only by those willing to abide by Kalg'rai law, and most killers didn't care for laws one way or another. Rather than waiting to kill off someone, most just decided to do it right then and there. The only exceptions to this were specifications on bounties on certain targets. These kills could and would go unpunished, since they had a bounty on their head(s) anyway. This meant that law-abiding citizens seeking to kill someone else were, at best, rare. This made deathmatches quite a big deal. Very rarely were they made, and even more seldom were they accepted by the recipient. Usually, the desire is one-sided, rather than both sides looking to kill the other.
Students had started to consider this fact as they thought about it even more. Cynterialis accepted it. Did it mean that he didn't like her? Or was there another reason he was willing to go toe-to-toe with Senira to the death? Nobody could get into his mind enough to figure it out. His mind was shielded enough from divination possibly through his own willpower. He kept his thoughts shielded from most.
So only he knew why he accepted the deathmatch. Week FourteenWeek fourteen was where the schooling became the hardest. This is where the true colors of people's drives began to manifest. Those that had been barely getting by had started to sink; it was they who everyone expected to fail the exams. Those were the ones that everyone figured would fail and face that shame. It was one thing to fail a written exam, however in swordplay school, it was all hands-on, and so if one were to fail the exams, then one would have to question if they ever even practiced outside of the school. For many of the sword forms, that was mandatory in order to memorize.
At the same time, those who excelled started to become far more noticeable, rather than being in the shadow of the Senira/Cynterialis rivalry. Immediately below the rivalry, a student named Entarii had studied the both of them, and although he did expect Cynterialis to win, he had hoped Senira would, just to prove that drive can prove victorious over skill. He had hoped it would happen so it would show the other students can hope and believe that they can win despite any odds, no matter how stacked the situation was against them... that they can succeed even if everyone expected them to fail.
He expected Cynterialis to win, but he hoped that Senira would. Despite this, he maintained a neutrality throughout the whole ordeal, outwardly. He wouldn't admit to his thoughts, nor would he give any clue that he was even thinking about it. He was just another hard-working student, concentrating on passing. He was one of the few only focusing on passing, rather than also spending a lot of time thinking about the deathmatch to occur. He was one of the few that wouldn't acknowledge it, at least obviously, until it were to happen.
Meanwhile, Cynterialis had gone through the motions of the more advanced forms. As they were taught, he pinpointed their weaknesses and their strong points. Each new form had its ups and downs. Some of the forms were difficult to integrate other forms' tricks that would make up for those weak points, but Cynterialis was developing a sword style of all his own throughout the last week. He knew that the last two weeks would demonstrate the hardest of formal sword forms to the students, and so he waited until then to start developing his own style. Many well-known swordsmen and swordswomen had been known for perfecting a particular sword form, or at least demonstrating a complete mastery of a particular one, however, it was thought impossible to create the perfect form. Cynterialis wanted to create a style that would be thought to be completely unstoppable. The perfect offense as well as defense. He decided that it was best suited for it to be a counterattack-based sword form. It would allow for him to play defensively to assess his opponent's tactics and then using their own tactics against them.
Cynterialis was one of the only ones thinking this way, rather than focusing on mastering the new forms that were demonstrated to them. Week FifteenThe final week was upon them. The final week was nothing short of compete chaos. Many students had suddenly burst with excitement and many more spars for training. Some of it was in excitement for the fact that the school was about to come to a close, and others for the fact that the duel they were all waiting for was upon them. Students were pushing themselves far harder than throughout the rest of the fifteen weeks because they wanted nothing more than to pass.
Some of the excitement was also through fault of Senira. She was bragging with complete confidence that she would completely humiliate Cynterialis in front of the entire crowd. She had even developed enough confidence that it had spread to other students. Soon enough, there was a division between the school. More than half of the students began to believe Senira would win. Those that still believed Cynterialis would win became "enemies" of those that believed Senira. Cynterialis did nothing to boost his own morale, or the morale of the "team" that had become of those who believed him.
Final exams. Many students had practiced so much that their muscles couldn't quit take it, and so many students failed. Their forms were too sloppy, or they mixed forms because they had practiced so many over the last week. However, rather than heading to their home or moving into where they would establish their new lives, they lingered to spectate the duel that everybody was waiting for. Other students passed, and were ecstatic of that fact alone. This ecstasy caused their hype of the fight to skyrocket. Cynterialis and Senira's showdown was scheduled to be last. Rather than testing them, the showdown itself was their test. It was an easy way to grade, as well: the one that was still surviving passed the school; the one that died doesn't pass, and for immensely patent reasons.
After all of the other students' exams had finished, the duel was organized. Senira and Cynterialis were handed blades of symmetrical design to each other. Neither blade itself would have an advantage over the other. Cynterialis and Senira crossed their blades into an "x" for the formal way of demonstrating their readiness to duel. Both students took five steps back, and then assumed their stances. Senira's stance held her feet shoulder-length apart, and her torso tilted forward slightly. She held the hilt of her blade close to her right side of her ribs, and angled the blade upwards in Cynterialis' direction.
Fool... using a stance that's taught allows me to exploit the weaknesses of it, Cynterialis thought plainly.
Cynterialis assumed his stance. He pivoted the right side of his body so that it was angled away from Senira, and he held his blade loosely in his right hand so the blade barely hovered over the ground. His left arm was held straight out so his palm faced Senira, as if signalling for her to "halt". Cynterialis noted the confused look Senira wore on her face, and then the look's changing into one of understanding. She knew her first mistake. Her favorite form was one that Cynterialis knew, and Cynterialis' favorite form was of his own design. She had no idea what to expect. Neither did the crowd. Whispers of what the form could be spread around, but after a little while it was unanimously decided that it was his own form.
"Let the duel commence!" one of the judges announced. Immediately after that, Senira rushed in and whipped her blade around in a forward-crescent upwards slash so that the crescent movement would slice his throat. However, Cynterialis' reaction was anything but expected. Rather than dodging the blade, Cynterialis had actually gripped her blade mid-swing; the blade would dig into his hand, however, Cynterialis showed absolutely zero reaction to the fact that the blade had drawn blood. The momentum of the blade coming to a sudden halt, plus inertia, meant that Senira's lack of letting go of the blade would cause her body to move in slight mimicry of her attack.
This caused Senira's body to crash into Cynterialis' unwavering stance. Her torso would be slightly torqued upwards since she refused to let go of the blade. In the exact same moment that Senira's body had come to a slowing of its natural movement, Cytnerialis raised and chambered his right elbow so the blade pointed right at Senira's ribcage, and then he suddenly released it; he thrust his arm so that the blade would plunge into and through her ribs. The blade would rip right through her lungs and heart, embedding itself two-thirds of the way up to the hilt into her torso. After a few moments, Senira dropped limply, lifelessly, to the ground a matter of a handful of inches below her already grounded body.
It took everybody a few moments to register exactly what had happened, since everything suddenly came to a halt in the duel. At about the same time that Senira's body hit the ground, the results had finally registered in everybody's minds. Those that had supported Senira's jaws dropped, and others screamed out "no!". The side that supported Cynterialis was also surprised. They had expected him to win, but they didnt' expect him to humiliate her in one simple move. At the very least, they expected a few clashing blades.
Even as Senira fell to the ground, Cynterialis didn't let go of the blade he held in his left hand, by the blade. He did, however, let go of the hilt of the blade embedded into Senira's body. Cynterialis turned towards the crowd after a few moments longer of holding the blade in his left hand. He dropped the blade as he turned, and then looked straight at the judges, knowing already that he passed. With that, he walked away, heading off to catch the MagiTrain to head back to Hystnuv'er.
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Post by HERO on Jan 1, 2015 12:51:14 GMT -5
Nomi HyugurMagical Training: Transmutation & Arcane
<-{Complete}->
This school training would serve as a flashback for the character.
Week One (Careful with opening this one...)
*Monologue roleplayed mostly, just because I like the character.*
Uneasy. That was a description that understated how Nomi felt, having been sent to Shru'tal. This was the first time he was to attend a school not administrated by his family, and aside from the obvious worries a normal student would have, what he was scared of the most was failing in his objective: To live by the Art of Impersonation for fifteen weeks, without allowing anyone to know who he truly was, what his true face looked like, where he was staying, or those who formed his family.
He wasn't alone in this objective, however he had every right to feel as though he were alone. He wasn't allowed to know who else from the Silent Clan was also taking up schooling in Shru'tal, and the mere occurance of any of the kids finding out about another would mean failure for the discovered.
Waking up in the darkness of the storage room, he sat up and immediately began to stretch. His left side was stiffer than his right, but that was remedied soon enough for his liking. He then turned his monitor on to watch a teen drama while performing breathing and strength excercises. Faces, feet, shoulders, waists, these were the things he had to pay attention to.
He continued to watch while putting on his blue and black school uniform. The shoes felt like they would hinder his ability to feel his surroundings. So he tore the insoles out and tossed them to the corner of the room, then taking the time to prepare his face mask. The mask was given to him by superiors in the clan, and sealed it's edges to skin to give an unbelievable kind of realism, as long as the wearer didn't try to look euphoricaly gleeful.
Kneeling down, he used his fingers to create the needed creases in the mask. Sealing it, and matching the placements of the lips and eyes, he looked at his reflection in the floor. "My face for fifteen weeks," he said, almost having trouble believing it. The square cheekbones, but rounder jaw shape and carefully arched eyebrows.
"My face."
To cover the bottom half, and prevent possible situations in which it'd slip out unintentionally from his jaw, he donned a dark blue handkerchief, the only 'personal' item allowed to be worn aside from necklaces, which were too personal seeming. While tying it, he assessed what to do with his thin black blade, the gift from his parents. They probably thought he would be wearing his usual black attire, and that he could get away with carrying it by letting the color blend the way it did. Shame.
All that was left for him to do before departure was to grab his shoulder bag. Filled with supplies, he was glad his superiors had helped him prepare. Then, he opened the window, and took five steps back before diving out of it. No, seriously. From one story up, he knew exactly how he wanted to tuck his chest in for the flip, and exactly how he wanted to plant his feet, form the diamond with his hands, and fold his arm down to roll out across the meat of his shoulder. Quickly and silently he executed it, and popped up onto his feet as if he'd been walking the entire time. To enter society, all he had to do was hop the scalable fence.
The sun was up by the time he made it to the Merlinwood Magic Academy, and on the way there, he did as much as he could to morph his walk. The gait he was most used to didn't have much hip movement, relied entirely upon the flexing of his muscles, and was meant to not make any sound. This stood out too much in the crowd, and so he had to carefully change the planting of his feet to mimic the walk of other kids his age, and then change it again to carry less personality. Every piece that worked in his favor, the better.
Arriving at his morning class, he found a seat quickly in a space that was 'just' isolated enough from the other students. The extremes were already taken up by antisocial students, who seemed to not want to have to interact with anyone if they could help it.
The morning class was Arcane Geometry, a subject that was "a hobby for intellectuals, and the tools for genius'es," or at least that's what he heard from the show he watched that morning. He understood members of his clan to use it sparingly, not liking to leave traces of where they were. The first half of the class was spent passing out syllabuses and the second half was a nose dive right into the mountain of introductory material. Studying would be a must for this class, as this particular one made use of mathematic and geometric proofs as well as ancient knowledge to bring about and control magical energies. Great.
Thankfully, the Transmutation afternoon class would be less rigorous, using the same principle as Arcane magic, but with a sharper focus in bringing about physical changes in matter with the geometry. By studying Arcane magic, he would probably end up studying Transmutation simultaneously.
When the time came to depart from the building, Nomi's mind was trying avidly to soak in all the material he was presented, and when he'd have to go back again. Attendance wasn't necessary after enrollment, but it was highly recommended, and most kids planned on going everday regardless. Not like their parents would let them sit at home all day. He'd have to decide for himself, although he knew outright that he would be going everyday there was a lecture.
And so ended his first schoolday, and thus was the beginning of his mission. Week Two
Studying certainly kept him busy during the past week. Studying and adjusting made up just about every part of his day. When he woke up that Monday morning, his first thought was, "Where did I leave holes in my guise this past week?" The worst offense was of course the time in Transmutation school he didn't answer to his name. His false name, of course. Right.
With enough luck, he played off being distracted and tired well enough so that no one figured.
"Lee...Lee..." he repeated to himself while dressing himself, imagining in his mind the name being called once again, and his turning towards the person calling. If it were up to him though, he wouldn't have to be called at all...
Over the past week, there had been a total of two lectures in Arcane Geometry, however those lectures were long and packed tightly with material. The boy had to actually take eight sheets of nights each time, filling sixteen pages total with the beginnings of understanding the properties of geometric shapes and pieces of the ancient language of magic. Spoken, each word the class had been shown so far was a single syllable, and each word had a corresponding mark or character. It would certainly take a while for it to soak in, though late nights of taking stabs at the practice problem sets helped Nomi feel as though he might've been getting better.
On days there weren't lectures, the class seemed to focus on preparing mana and observing the teacher's demonstrations. The teacher was meticulous in drawing every shape he did, and the circle surrounding them. The greatest of the demonstrations were an intense explosion that rocked the ceiling of the room, and an intense light show that would've been fitting for a rave.
In Transmutation, things were getting right off to practicality, going backwards from where Arcane Geometry was going. Rather, after giving a good deal of overview on how to decipher arcane text, and how spell circles brought about the effects they did, the teacher handed each student a sheet of paper with two seals on it. When one would push their finger into one seal while applying mana, the paper would turn into an origami frog. When the second seal would be touched like that, the paper would turn completely flat.
Reverse-engineering was the name of the assignment. Thankfully, by taking Arcane Geometry, Nomi was able to generate a rough idea of what was probably happening from the seals' activations. With every touch, the mana gathered by the spell circle transformed into kinetic energy to either pull the corners outward, or fold them into the origami frog.
Nomi happened to be correct, for the most part, which meant that taking both classes at once really was a good idea. He hoped the classes wouldn't become too much to maintain later on though... Week Three
The third week was upon him. Nomi was keeping track of everything non-academic he could observe while he was on this mission, and putting into the records of his Magitech Mana Device whatever would be difficult to put into memory. Turning the monitor on that morning, the television confirmed it. Glancing at the piles of once-wet wipes in the darkest corner of the room, he gave a few sharp sniffs, satisfied enough with the decrease in odor he had, and the increase in the fragrance of baby powder.
He could've found a gym or open bath probably, if he searched hard enough. But that could've led to him showing his face should the underside of his mask gets wet. Not an option.
This morning he had taken to drawing transmutation circles on the inside of the mask with a light colored pencil. With what he could figure, the circle could simply take a small amount of mana from the surroundings and apply creases to the mask. By orienting the symbols correctly, time could be saved by staying symmetrical too.
The end result of this attempt was cruder than Nomi would've liked however, and he still had to finish up with his hands.
Leaving the room, he had recently taken to performing another caution, leaving while invisible. A couple of nights ago, he could swear he saw someone cross the lawn with a flash light. Nomi never saw anyone come through there after that, but he was fearful nonetheless. And so, only when he'd scale the fence would he become visible once more.
In Arcane Geometry class, Nomi found himself listening to a lecture that must've involved chemistry and physics. The biggest reason for thinking that was because the teacher outright said it did. In Arcane Geometry, the end goal of the class was to give each student experience in using the magic of sacred geometry to bring about effects in the physical world. To bring about those effects, apparently even more math than Nomi figured was to be used. At least he knew what he would have to study up on.
Transmutation school was a bit less completely new material, rather everyone was to practice solving the effects of transmutation circles together. Of course the circles weren't usable, since the ink was treated to be a magic insulator, so the students had to think and do what they could without just copying it. Nomi had a plan to do just that though, since he needed extra time to study for Arcane Geometry.
Curling two fingers together in his left hand, he used an Illusion spell to appear to everyone else as though he was trying as hard mentally as they were. In reality, he drew the circle, and tested it's effects on a piece of paper. Suddenly however, the sheet of paper began to grow. Accidental activation.
Were Nomi to hesitate any longer than he did, he would've failed to keep it concealed within the illusion, and his tearing the seal saved himself. What to do though with the wider-than-usual sheet of paper? He had to craft yet another illusion, one of himself walking out of the room while the rest of the class did, and tear the sheet into several pieces, beside the seat of a student a few back down from him.
'Not getting caught with that...' Week Four
Nomi's Arcane Geometry class was finally moving a bit away from pure theory, and onto application, a bit of a hard gap to start when involving the topics they've been studying up on over the past few weeks. But thankfully, the bare fundamentals of the theory were practically meant for application.
Early on in the first lecture of the week, all of the students were told by their instructor that testing proficiency in applying what they learned would make up most of their final exam, eleven weeks away. That makes Nomi's first objective much more simplified.
As far as the second objective went, Nomi was certainly having an easier time putting together his disguise. Working in dim light wasn't all that much of a challenge before, although now he practically could feel every part of it out with his eyes closed. Might he take it upon himself though to make other things easier should the time come?
He could pick pockets to hopefully find things he could make use of for convenience, although that would largely rely on luck. The nearest Silent Clan fence already did permit him an allowance, although the tricky thing in picking it up was that he almost certainly had to fashion himself a new face, a new voice, a new way of wearing pieces from the two sets of clothes he had with him.
Not worth the risk.
Anyhow, back to matters of school.
Transmutation wasn't proving to be getting much more difficult, or at least it seemed not to be. The knowledge he gained from studying Arcane Geometry allowed him to understand more ways to accomplish goals than students who hadn't studied other related classes also. This put his grade above a great deal of other students, although his reluctance to allow that to be known helped keep his anonymity.
Testing so far came with crafting seals to bring about changes in children's toys and blocks. The thing about testing with transmutation circles though, they rarely had nearly as much of the same simple modularity in their construction. They had to be put together and surely be practically complete, with adjustments made to fit the problem.
Having finished with some time to spare, Nomi used his Illusion magic once more to perform reconnaisance on several other students. Observing their progress, their methods, the speed with which they tested their circles, he assessed their apparent effectiveness as an invisible shadow. There was something else useful to him too, an invention of one of his classmates. The classmate seemed to pull his pen apart, and press the inside of it against the wooden block.
A stamp.
After school let out, Nomi made a trip to the Silent Clan fence to make a simple, yet strange request.
Week Five
A pen, a mini-stamp, and a flashlight. That's what Nomi made with the non-edible supplies he recieved from the fence. It took a cut out of the allowed fund for him, but that was nothing he couldn't make up in other ways.
Now at night he wouldn't have to wait for his eyes to adjust to the dark before writing. Of course he could've now created a spell circle beforehand for light, but this took less preparation, and would be easier to pull out.
Of course this meant that after construction, which took about half an our of finagling his blade and screwing, Nomi was able to study easier.
Elemental magicks were the primary forms of magic applied so far, and memorization of the primary mana-conversion pieces in each element was a must. Flame, water, stone, air, and light would be examples of such magicks, and invoking spells of their nature could be done with a single symbol inside of a spell circle. Of course it worked best when the medium used was a conductor of mana. Thankfully most ink found in Shru'tal made for good mana conductors.
As far as transmutation went, the circles crafted were moving beyond toy blocks, and onto larger structures.
As a class, the students were led out to the back of the school courtyard, where a grand statue of an ancient battlemage sat. It stood at about fifteen feet, but the instructor waisted no time in crushing it down to rubble. Or to be more correct, he touched the transmutation circle at it's base which sunk it to the ground.
It was then announced that the students would continue to study while working on a project. What they did for the project would be up to them, but it had to be aesthetically pleasing. The followong week, a vote was to be taken on the matter, but for that day, it was time to get out. The bell rung, and the hallways back inside the building were on their way to becoming cramped.
Nomi gave a farewell for the sake of politeness before using the distraction of the crowd to slip around the corner. He much preferred leaving in invisibility, by way of the wall connected to the school fence, that day. It saved him the effort of keeping up his ruse.
Week Six.
"Hey, you there, Lee was it?"
A voice, familiar and not, at the same time. Surely older, more masculine than feminine. The stress in that sentence was put on the "you". He knew the student who he was turning towards, but didn't know the name. Nomi turned towards his classmate, and gave a "Yes?" His reaction to the name was getting far better, and so was the amount of relaxation he could have when he spoke in Lee's voice. A timbre lower than his own was best, in the off chance there would come time for a higher pitch.
"Hey, listen, I never see you after school ever. Do you have any obligations you need to attend to?"
"Yes, I do."
"Oh, well if you're ever free after school, me and some other upcoming mages put together a study group in the library. Would you be interested?"
"I'll consider it."
"Alright. Well, see you there hopefully."
The both of them then entered the class room and walked to their respective seats. This week, more students than ever brought dedicated spellbooks with them to class. Nomi understood that they were recommended when immediate effects were needed, but thought it unnecessary to bring one himself.
Within his own notebook, there were more graphs and tables than spell circles. Nomi figured that in most cases he would just draw a new spell circle, however a ready spellbooks would make for few screwups...
Transmutation class was interesting. Before the lecture started, the whole class had a debate on what to do for the project. The class was split in between a statue of an ancient martial arts master and a statue of a dragon.
Nomi didn't give any input, but he felt inclined towards the dragon. In the home of his parents, he grew up adoring the golden dragon they had. Internally, he allowed himself a little bit of a smile when the votes came out 14 to 10, in favor of the dragon.
The whole debate took up all of the lecture's time slot, and so it ended right before the school bell rang.
Walking down the hallway, he only halted his nuanced and carefully crafted walk to peep inside of the library. He stood for five seconds in all, and decided, "Not today."
Week Seven
"Now, fire!" the teacher shouted out, and accordingly the student activated the spell circle he drew in his notebook. Extending his palm forward, the boy launched a bolt of mana, a Soul Arrow, the teacher liked to call it. The teacher in turned observed the properties of the projectile closely, and watched how it reacted with the ward that appeared just in time to block it.
Nomi watched closely, and so did the rest of the class. The student was running down a list of modifiers added onto spells to affect their behavior. The test classes were bolts, spheres, and waves. Week Seven of the class would be spent reviewing these modifiers. Problem sets using these modifiers were getting thrown out until it was a possibility that some students would dream of them.
Transmutation class was different. In that class, students were being taught new material to supplant all of their old material. One topic of notice was the matter of how objects could form new bonds when physical changes were applied to them. This was undoubtedly going to be useful in the upcoming project, and also in upcoming lessons.
After school, Nomi passed up on the study group once again. He needed to get "home" in a hurry. He worried that were he to not test his skills for long enough, he would lose them. And so, after a few hours of studying, he switch his change of clothes.
The hood, the face masking fold, the lightweight feeling, and the ease with which he felt the ground. He was quite comfortable in his usual gear. He felt a little confident too, and clipped his blade to his back, the magnetic clip fashioned on a black strap he wound tightly across his ribs and shoulder.
Then, he prepared the spell. Charging to it's full capacity, he knew he could remain invisible for a good while, long enough definitely to do what he wished.
Diving out of his window, and into a flip and roll, Nomi was moving fast. Silently too, bar the faint brushing of grass on both sides of the fence he hopped.
It was mere seconds before he scaled a building and rushed across the rooftop. Leaping towards the next one, he landed on the balls of his feet, and dove onto his hands, bounding then once more into the opposite edge of the building. Swinging his feet around and dropping down into a cat-like landing, he snuck in between the passing crowds and glided across the curb practically, the way his feet moved.
He made a round trip, through a few alleys, through a couple's apartment, into a distracted woman's purse, through another alley, and then back over the fence. Not once did he stop moving, and his invisibility spell lasted right up until it was time to scale the fence.
Success.
Week Eight By now Nomi knew he was more than halfway done with his current schooling. The midterm testing wasn't a very distinctive period of transition, only being marked by a couple of tests from each class. He still understood that it only meant seven and a half more weeks of school though.
As far as the rest of the week went, Nomi found lots of time for studying, and so he took the opportunities, but when it came to assessments now, he had begun to wonder whether or not he should "really" perform as well as he could. Of course it was probably fine when the material was challenging to him, like the geometric math needed to understand the speeds capable of extremely mana-absorbent ink, but in other ways his studying put him fairly high up in success. He even was invited a couple of times more to attend the mage study group, which now had moved around to the school's back lot.
Nomi thought intensely on whether or not he should reconsider attending at least once, and it happened that on that day there wasn't a lecture in Transmutation class, the lecture being moved to tomorrow. "Would I blow my cover potentially? Could I react fast enough to dangers to my identity? Could I gain useful information? Might I become better at my skill?" After thinking about it long enough, the answer was "yes" four times over, but he thought carefully then on measures to take against it. His scarf suited well enough to protect the bottom of his mask, and should he remain inconspicuous, there probably wasn't a very big chance in someone thinking anything strange of him. And so, he went.
Out of the back door of the school building, he waited on pushing the bar to access the outside. First he had to give a circumspect peek through the window, which revealed a peculiar sight. Two of the students were facing each other several feet apart, and not only held books in their hands, but also wore a hooded cape over the shoulders of their uniforms. It was a magical spar, and from the playful banter the two were trading as they stood made it clear that it was under very friendly circumstances. After flipping their books open and crouching, they seemed to not take long in getting down and dirty. Combatant 1 spent his time firing off a volley of magical bolt attacks, and Combatant 2 spent time evading and charging his own return attack. It ended with Combatant 2 unleashing a powerful gust of wind that knocked Combatant 1 down. There was of course more to be said, however it suffices to say that Nomi tried his best to pay as much attention as he could to each of them. By now, the others likely were capable of using their magic in competent self-defense, and in sport. Observing how others progressed would probably suit him well in the event that he would need to exploit them.
The Transmutation lecture being moved to the day after, Nomi then had just one class the following day, where the focus was now on scaling, it's dangers, and preventative measures to ensure that things stay together correctly. When a Transmutation reliant architect failed in taking preventative measures, it apparently made for good examples of what can go wrong. Videos from years ago were shown to the students featuring toppling buildings crashing into arches and parks, and cranes tipping to produce a similar domino effect. Matters of application in using the defining principles behind scaling were to be continued the following week, however students were urged to study on their own in spare time. The dismissal bell rang loud and clearly barely a second after.
Week Nine The ninth week wasn't as eventful as many of the other weeks. Or perhaps it'd be easier to say that not much new had occurred. Nomi had enough money from the fence and the pickpocketing together to purchase a cheap mage hood for himself so that he would stand out less in observing the spars and various other practice activities in the study group, but he never took it upon himself to become directly involved. At one point however he did stand out to some when one sparring student slipped out on the wet ground and accidentally launched a spell in his direction.
'A high backflip was certainly not the way to best handle that.'
In class, Nomi was able to keep a steady rate of success, thanks to hours upon hours of study. He suspected more, truthfully, but there had only been a few times over the many weeks were he had to do anything sneaky-feeling, or deceptive. The lives of the students were largely mundane, and those who weren't so mundane simply had nothing that he couldn't make for himself or anything that he could think would benefit him. Shame, he might've thought too much of it all.
Still, he took to observing as many forms of mannerisms as he could, and adapted his own. What suited the persona he decided on best would be a fairly quiet introvert that only speaks out of curiosity, and bores easily. This took little effort for him to pull off, and helped others believe him to be fairly one dimensional without having to actually interact with him much.
Week Ten The tenth week came and went by with a perceived swiftness that Nomi couldn't figure out. He didn't struggle with either of the classes an unusual amount, or any that he would figure to be saddening. He had yet to fail in either of the missions he was assigned. Nomi was perhaps just getting more and more used to the persona he was mimicking, and the life he was living for about two and a half months now. From time to time he thought of his elders, his superiors, and how they would think of his performance. Would there be anything they would complain about? Were any in town recently that were following him perhaps? Might there be others watching him too skillful for him to notice, and yet so observant that they noticed he hadn't put to use very many of his learned skills as often as he was told he might have to? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, a couple of ideas for stretching out the use of his skills was dwelling in his mind.
In Arcane Geometry, the precision of his hand with a pen was getting sharper, adding onto the ability of his already dexterous hands. His seals were always sure to be neat, lest he be forced to scrap them. Now though, they could be neat while still being drawn quicker than usual. His knowledge of the seals and their powers were also expanding, although the whole class knew from the instructor that such magic always had a higher plane of learning. Over the past week, the class had spent most instruction time in class on problem solving, and reciting spells by their arcane language.
Problem solving had obvious benefit. The problem sets included creating gust seals to lift heavy objects up onto moving platforms, using pressurized water streams to bore through stone, or bursts of fire to kill pest swarms. Nomi had no clue what a stirge was, but apparently they were quite the nasty bugs to deal with in large numbers. The deal with the arcane language seemed to be that in higher research people were expected to call a spell by their true name, and not any perverse nickname. The phrase Ig-Nis-Ser-As was far more descriptive and universally recognizable over the name, "Pumped Fire Bolt." Go figure.
In Transmutation class, the project was coming along quite nicely, and on the very last day of the week, it had actually come to a finish. Three weeks of work was complete, and when the time came to present most of the class had silly grins on their face. Some where grinning so hard that the instructor remarked, "You might overstrain your face muscles." Nomi was on the fence on how to feel, or what to 'appear' to feel. Was he supposed to be excited, or bored, or overly confident? A mixture of the first two is what he decided on when the first person came to approach him with a high five. The basis on which the transmutation was to take place was that it was more or less a chain of circles built upon a central activation, shape shifting the earth on which they were drawn to build a ten-foot stone dragon piece by piece. When all was said and done the dragon was left to stand there in the back lot of the school, ready to be seen, played on, and touched until the next Transmutation class started up many weeks from then.
Week Eleven As another week went by, so did a few more lectures, assignments, and some announcements too. Coming up in just a few weeks was the final exams, the final grade that determined whether or not each student passed the classes or not. Success meant achievement in learning, and failure meant very possibly a waste of 15 weeks. Almost immediately then, Nomi hatched up a plan in his mind. It'd possibly take him a week to prepare for, but it'd be definitely worth it. Surprisingly, the problem sets were starting to get harder, with more problem sets involved, and Nomi wouldn't have any possibility of failure present in that regard.
The same announcement was made for his Transmutation class, and of course the same plan could probably be adapted for his needs. Transmutation class was easier though, and there was still material that was needed to be learned until the exam came around. This week, the material was coming to a close in scaling things up, and down, the material now shifting to live beings. Much of the dangers here were also present in the scaling problems, of course now they were probably worse since it mattered heavily that every single detail of the target transformation be correct. Studying methods suggested were memorizing correct symbols for useful application without as much mastery of higher knowledge, or learning the higher knowledge while having to work through producing correct seals. Nomi assumed a mixture of both of these would probably suit well, should he remain able to study for long stretches of time as usual.
Week Twelve After some days of planning, and a few days of steady observation, Nomi understood where his target was. Inside the instructor's office, in the left drawer of the desk at the back of the room was the exam guide, the instructor's aid in grading the exam. With it, Nomi knew he could easily breeze pass even the most difficult parts of the exam, and add on top of it even more. That was not the goal though, the better purpose here would be the benefit in reporting it, and the endurance that he would not fail. The primary tools he needed also happened to be the skills he learned during his time in school, and his inking tool.
In scouting out different parts of the building, Nomi came to notice that in many ways, the school was one of the leading schools in it's causes, although some of the teachers weren't too keen on adapting methods or progressing forward from old habits. In the case of his instructor, he noticed the man to be a bit on the elderly side, and seemed like the perfect personality to not like adapting constantly to the ever-changing technologies being developed in Kalg'rai. All he'd need was just a little bit more time, a little bit more preparation, a little bit more assurance in his success.
As for how actual instruction went, it was largely review time for Arcane Geometry class. Brushing up on old topics mostly, with some expansion here and there, some students came to great shouting bursts in epiphany. "Oh!", "Eureka!", "Well sideways am I f-" certainly had no shortages during this time. Some students however were realizing that they weren't studying as hard as they could've been, and as such were just sitting silently with blank stares at the unfamiliar material. Nomi was a part of the first group internally, and a part of the latter group externally. 'They must see as little of your true face as possible.'
In Transmutation class, much of the same was happening, although when it came to heist-planning, Nomi realized that his Transmutation instructor was not only more youthful in spirit, but also in methodology. He was a man who wasn't afraid to try new methods, and as such, he was sure to keep his things more secure. This was probably obvious from the way he taught, keeping his lesson plan applicable to their modern world, and not dwelling too much on what once was. Although he may not be purely apt to generating new methods, his desk was surely locked with a bit more than a few tumblers or a spell. Tricky...
Week Thirteen It was early enough in the morning that the sun hadn't even woken up. Perhaps that's why it felt like it was darkest right then. Perfect conditions on which to set this caper up, when considering how foggy it was.
Nomi prepared an invisibility spell that morning of tremendous strength, and waited for his instructor to pass through the entrance of the school doors. Then, he would slip in right behind him. Quietly, carefully, he'd then trail him. Mostly empty hallways meant that he didn't have to bump anyone on the way to the instructor's office.
Inside the office was where the real difficulty actually came. Nomi needed to be close enough to observe what the instructor's lock did, but didn't want unorthodox movements and unpredictability to blow his cover. He had a good idea what it was, a lock that accepted an arcane word as a passcode, and as such it glowed when the instructor touched it with his finger tip.
Nomi leaned in to watch the inscription. Ter-me-nus. The drawer then popped out, almost grazing his cheek before he pulled his head up.
Perfect. The files were tossed inside and locked away for keeping less safe than the instructor probably thought. Nomi took a good couple of minutes after he walked out to create an illusion, a false image of another student that would stand around inside the room, awaiting for someone to potentially open the door.
Time was precious then. Quickly moving around to the front of the cabinet, Nomi tapped the seal lock, and quickly swiped out the symbols he thought he saw.
Failure.
What? He tried again, with the same symbols. Failure.
'Damn!' He tapped the seal and tried it again, and again. Then he ran through different possibilities, looking for the probable name.
With a snap of inspiration minutes in, he thought, "Terminus."
Success.
Popping the drawer open and opening up the large folder, he undid his invisibility spell to move his dextrous fingers through the files inside without distraction. The coveted file was two pages in, the answer key to the exam. It was quite elegant, neat, beautiful, worthy of admiration, but he would certainly be unable to take the precious item with him.
Instead, the plan was to flip his Magitech Device open, and record all of the information in the touch screen monitor.
Mere moments would pass, and the instructor would make a return from breakfast in the cafeteria. Opening the door with a candy bar in his mouth, he would ask the kid standing before him why he was there. Nomi took that instant to stealthily sneak out with swift and silwnt movement in the instructor's periphery. The fake kid was certainly loud in nature.
Success.
Later in class, Nomi felt a good bit of trouble in hiding his urge to smile. Pride was not always above him, and he knew it'd make for something good to tell. Perhaps he'd get knew equipment, or achieve landing an enjoyable job.
He continued to listem to the lecture until it was time to leave.
Transmutation class was one Nomi still didn't feel prepared to carry out a heist for. As usual, he would listen to the lectures, and watch closely the demonstrations when he wasn't directly involved. He still dreaded to hear, "Next: Lee!" from the instructor. Being in front of the class meant having to work harder at keeping up his guise. Week Fourteen And so, it was the final week before the final exams before the final day of both classes. In Arcane Geometry, some students felt like they were tiptoeing over a wire above a pit of lava. Where they not to say it, they were likely to show it through their faces. Others felt strangely confident, but still worrisome. The stress levels were high, and colds were traveling around with greater ease than nomads. Nomi was perhaps the most confident student of them all, but that was perhaps because he had quite literally all the answers to everything on the test. All he had to do was study them, and spit them back out in altered forms to receive a full score, and then add some bits onto it for the sake of personalizing the probable thought process of Lee. This alternate persona of his was something he'd be glad to be rid of after it all would end...
There were no lectures this week, or at least none that were so formal as to really call them lectures. Rather, most of the time now, demonstrations and practicing was what went on. The same went for Transmutation class, where the stress levels weren't nearly as high, but still was high enough to cause acne breakouts, nervous breakdowns, and inter-student relationships to breakup. With exams so near, of course maintaining a social life with those in easier classes would be more difficult, but thankfully Nomi had no social life he understood to have to keep. Everyday when school was let out, he made sure to leave in the stealthiest manner possible, and make it home probably before anyone noticed he wasn't even in his seat anymore.
Week Fifteen & Graduation And so, they had come; the final examinations were upon the students, and brought the levels of stress and hormones to critical levels. It was at the instructor's discretion to provide the means of implementation for providing the prepared questions, however it was of course simplest for the Arcane Geometry exam to be split into two pieces: Geometry, and Application. As far as geometry went, that's where the bulk of the stolen exam answers would come in handy for Nomi, as memorizing how each problem was broken down meant he could easily come up with thoughts ahead of time how to deliver the perfect answers. Of course, he knew deep down he wouldn't get away with perfect answers. And so, he tested the night before hand tweaks that could be made to slightly lower his grade, yet not bring him down to the level of a failure.
When it came to the geometry portion, it was all problem solving, with points delivered for the work generated in each portion of the questions given. To make things work there, he had to omit some of the necessary work and steps in getting to his answers most of the time, while some of the time making his answer slightly off, drawing a line in a seal a little bit squiggly, leaving a sloppy stray mark here and there that provided no purpose. These Nomi was sure to feel was enough. To make things even add a little extra touch of uncertainty, he made sure to sign the name a little sloppier than usual, after coming to perfect it over the course of the fourteen weeks he's been having to use it. 'Let this name curse me no longer!'
Application was just that, each student working out problem solving with given blocks and models right in front of the class room. One by one, students went up before the instructor, and handed in their sheets, given back a blank sheet of paper and a pen. Then a roughly 15 minute trial would ensue where students would have to build constructs that summoned pillars of flame, blew glittering lights across the room, blow wooden blocks away, and summon hovering spheres of water. Nomi found this part slightly easier to prepare for since the potential answers were a bit more open-ended, and weren't very strict on how the seals were supposed to turn out. He simply did as well as he could, and got away with what was probably a pretty nice score.
In Transmutation class, the instructor went about delivering his exam in the same method; splitting the exam into a written part and a physical part. However, the written exam was shorter, and in a way, simpler than the exam in Arcane magic. Nomi had given up on stealing the answers for it, and instead regrettably studied honestly. That wasn't to say though that he struggled in any particular area in the exam, he just understood that there was a possibility that he could be wrong on several questions. Being unable to test them, and retest them in the instance of failure, he wrote them off one by one, aiming to do simply as well as he could.
In application, things were a bit more sure, as when he was done with the transmutation circle, what would happen would be the be-all and end-all of his success. One by one, Nomi drew circles on constructs, turning blocks to steps, cubes to spheres, paper into origami, and a toad into a giant monster. The toad, and everything else for that matter, had to get shifted back into their original shapes before a handshake showed completion. Success.
Graduation. When it came to the next week, Saturday, students were gathered in the auditorium for a grand graduation ceremony. Arcane Geometry, Hexing, Transmutation, Flexile Research, and Magitech engineering students were all present in that gigantic room, and one by one, each went up in outfits respective to their graduation. Nomi decided to wear a mage garb between Arcane Geometry and Transmutation outfits, letting him blend in with those in the class he found more difficult. The class had a 92% pass, and so few students were not present, apparently having left for home. Nomi would have to go home too, right after eliminating all traces of him even being in this city for the past fifteen weeks.
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Post by DC on Apr 23, 2015 5:44:39 GMT -5
Schooling: Arcane Magic
Week OneViktaal had come to Kalg'rai by accident some time ago, and since then, he had become quite studious. He needed to learn just about everything about Kalg'rai, so it seemed, so that he could be on-par with the people actually born in it. Viktaal spent more time in libraries and research rooms and talking to just about everybody of intelligence about things within the continent. He wanted to learn as much as he could about Kalg'rai, and so he spent a long time studying it. In his studies, he found a particularly interesting topic: Arcane Magic. Of all the schools of magic, arcane seemed to be the most versatile, but at the same time, it also meant that he could understand more about all of the other branches of magic. He could interpret spell circles, he could become more knowledgeable about the flow of mana, and, he thought, it would go well with the fact that he could actually see the flow of mana.
So, here he was. As he looked around at the other students who were taking the schooling because they wanted to expand their horizons, he found that not many of them were actually interested in each other. Lovely, he thought. I'm in a group made up entirely of introverts. Week TwoThe first week of the school was spent just learning the rules of spell circles and arcane magic as a whole. It was probably the most boring week that Viktaal ever had in his life. The second week, however, they started going over spell circles in general and how they function, the way they influence mana, what mana actually was, and learned how a spell circle can actually be crafted to do different effects, can be crafted to create effects that haven't been seen before. The right combination of lines and symbols could duplicate something, the right symbols and formation of spell circles could generate new items, could alter the properties of object, could do just about anything just so long as they are made right. Still studious as ever, the second week for Viktaal was far more interesting. Sure, conversation between the students was rare, but it seemed that one of the students started to become more open, trying to start more conversations. Viktaal learned that he was born in Sh'rutal; he was accustomed to the business going on in the city, and probably guessed that the kid knew to make friends, else you had potential enemies. Smart. Week ThreeAs the third week went by, Viktaal started to notice which students spent more time studying, or at least were more natural at learning the magic, and which students were struggling. In the third week, they started putting what they learned about basic spell circles, such as fireball spell circles, and how to draw them without actually referring to a book. Some students were able to do it without a book, some were able to do it quickly without a book, and some students couldn't do it without a book. Some students either got them wrong, or quit trying to draw them mid-design. Those that failed to draw them correctly were chastised by the instructors and were cast off by the other students as they started warming up to each other. Viktaal wasn't exactly the valedictorian of his class, but he wasn't struggling, either. He knew he would pass, but he also knew he wasn't exactly going to be a superstar. Apparently, some students started approaching him for help, though. Surely that was a good sign of his progress... Week FourViktaal was starting to become more interested in the schooling since it started going over what the symbols actually meant, how to add them into spell circles to combine effects, what the lines actually meant, the layers of the circles and why they were important. Viktaal learned that arcane magic was actually a language. Arcane magic was just a speaking and writing of the mana itself. The arcane language that are spell circles is an ancient art, but one that has sustained because it is the language of of mana itself. Viktaal realized that if you learned the arcane language, the art of spell circles, you could understand any spell circle, you could understand why mana flowed like it did. Viktaal didn't talk about how he could see the flow of mana, but when he started focusing on the simultaneous sight more, he found that the schooling was easier. He started to ascend in skill in the class. He still wasn't valedictorian or anything of that degree, but he was quickly rising. He didn't intend on doing it, but he wanted to be as good as he could. He didn't intend on really using the magic, but there were some things that he wanted to do, and that would require the level of standing that arcane magic, the arcane language provided. Week FiveThings were going along smoothly. Viktaal was still rising in popularity among the students within the crash-course school for arcane magic. The symbols and arcane language was coming along easily for him, and it started to make some of the more adept students of the class jealous. They viewed him as a cheater; they didn't know how or why they pinned him as that, but they assumed he had to be cheating somehow. Somehow, Viktaal had found out to cheat the system and progress faster than everybody else. He was rising in capabilities and it was at a quickening rate. Some of the more egotistical students in the class that were viewed as the more powerful magic users started to feel threatened by his growing skill. They still thought that he was nowhere near their level, but he was getting closer. He was making progress. It became a competition of sorts among the class. It wasn't just a school for arcane magic anymore, but rather it was becoming a competition. Who could become the most powerful in Arcane Magic? Week SixViktaal kept quiet about his recently acquired manacrystals. He had pawned them off a couple of days after completing the bounty, earning him quite a fair amount for such a minor thing. He honestly didn't expect the bounty to go over that smoothly, and his mind was wandering to it from time to time. This became a bit of a distraction, and so he started to slow in his growth of ability in Arcane Magic; the other students noticed it. Every once in a while, one of the friendlier students would ask him if he was okay, with which Viktaal would answer with a smile and a nod. "Yeah, I'm good. Sorry, I'm just daydreaming, is all."
It took him a little bit, but after doing some research on the side, he finally understood just what it was he killed. Huh. Okay he thought. By the end of the week, Viktaal was back to being on top of his game. They were still studying the arcane language itself, and judging by how complex it was, that would be the focal point for quite some time. Week SevenWeek seven rolled around, and at this point, they were no longer writing the language, but actually learning to speak it. They were learning to string together words in the arcane language, creating spells with their voices rather than spell circles. This was a more interesting way of doing things to many of the students, making their spells something that they found, in their opinions, to be more engaging. Viktaal didn't mind either one, but as he was going along, he started to study the language in a way that would benefit his desire to make the manacrystals he possessed do an effect that he had imagined quite some time ago. A few days before, he started paying attention to the way that the mana flowed around the crystal. He was starting to piece together the way that manacrystals formed. Week EightWeek eight was a breeze. The longer they continued, the more Viktaal learned to manipulate the spell circles. Secretly, in his classes, he would start creating his own spell circles. Although he wouldn't activate them, he would watch as the mana flowed around the circle in a way that marked it successful build. It would do something, but since nobody was looking over his shoulder, only he would know. Occasionally, he'd look up to the instructors and smile as they glanced at him. The look in their eyes seemed... knowing.
Still, Viktaal was rising in status in the class. Once more, the arrogant students within the class felt threatened again. One in particular seemed particularly bothered by Viktaal's rising so quickly. Viktaal noticed it, but the rest of the class seemed oblivious. The student hid it well. He never really paid attention to the names of the students that didn't approach him, so he hadn't the slightest idea of what the kid's name is. Oh well. He'll find out later. Week NineBy week nine, Viktaal knew that he was over halfway through the schooling. To keep Viktaal from becoming disheartened from how intense that the schooling was becoming, he kept in mind that he wasn't all that far away. That would refresh his motive whenever he started to become discouraged. Viktaal continued to help those that asked him for help, but he noted the growing number of jealous looks as he starting picking up more momentum in the school. On a side-note, Viktaal was working on a spell circle that would be able to change the structure of something into something else. It was a sort of transmutation spell circle, but it wasn't quite the same. It was rearranging the structure of the item itself on a deeper level. Instead of rearranging, it was actually completely changing into a different material. He still kept it away from others, not wanting the spell circle to be found out by other students. This, he determined. is just for my own purposes... Week TenAs the tenth week came to and then closed, Viktaal was on-par with the best students in the class. It had taken him some time, especially since he was devoting time to learn how to make his private spell circle work on the side, but he had studied enough and paid attention enough to be just as good. This fueled the flame for the male, Yneral by name, who was on top of the class. He was not happy that Viktaal was threatening his position as the best. What's even worse, he decided, was that Viktaal was doing things on the side. He was secretive about whatever he was doing, and at the same time, he was helping the other students get better. Why would he do that? Arcane Magic isn't something everyone is supposed to have! Why make more people have it if they're just going to use it like a toy?
Viktaal was oblivious to the truth of the internal fire burning within Yneral, but he could just about see it whenever Yneral looked at him, whenever he saw him studying. His body language... Yeah, he doesn't like me. Week ElevenWeek eleven. Students within the class for Arcane Magic were starting to get antsy because they knew that the end of the schooling would involve demonstrations of all that they learned. They would either be able to do it, or they would crack under the pressure and look like a failure in front of everybody. The graduation ceremony would be done in front of a massive crowd of people within Sh'rutal, and so if they failed, everybody would know it. That would be fame that isn't something to be proud of. Viktaal lacked this fear and so did Yneral. But the difference between the two is that Yneral was starting to focus too much on being better than Viktaal. Where Viktaal had his own agenda, Yneral's sole purpose was not learning the art of Arcane Magic anymore, but rather it was to prove himself better than his threat.
Yneral had never been outdone in his schooling and he wasn't about to let Viktaal be the first. He wouldn't disgrace his family like that. But on that matter, Yneral quietly questioned: what was Viktaal here for? Yneral noticed that in conversations about families and home, Viktaal would be silent. He would listen to other people's talking about it, but he never contributed his own experiences on the matter. Does he even have a family that would show up? Week TwelveThree weeks left. Yneral was getting more and more antsy. He didn't want to admit it, but Viktaal was his equal. How the hell does he do it? he questioned more and more as time progressed onward. He noticed that during class, he seemed to hardly be paying attention anymore. The instructors also noticed this, but when they tried to trip him up and call on him for answers or demonstrations, Viktaal performed with ease. This only pissed Yneral off more. Even Yneral had certain things that he was having a more difficult time with, but in those areas, Viktaal seemed to be comfortably cruising through. Yneral was vexed as well as perplexed by this. Yneral couldn't be beaten by Viktaal. Viktaal still paid no attention to the fact that Yneral was making it a contest; Viktaal was more occupied perfecting a spell circle he had been working on since earlier in the schooling. Yneral wondered what he was working on that seemed to distract him from the actual activities going on within the class. It had to be something important. Whatever it was, it was threatening to Yneral. He would have to trip up whatever he was working on.
It would ruin his morale, Yneral thought. He couldn't help but notice that Viktaal sported weapons that were far different from anything he's ever seen within Phyr'al altogether. The instructors didn't seem to mind his possessing the weapons; they seemed to know something that eluded Yneral. Viktaal had two of them. Yneral couldn't see what was beyond the handles of the weapons, but he saw the barrel at the the tip of them. Maybe they were just a different kind of gun that he hasn't seen yet. But they were in sword sheathes. Maybe trying to ruin his morale wouldn't be such a good idea... Week ThirteenViktaal was on the verge of finishing the spell circle for manacrystals. His project was still kept on the down-low, nobody else figuring out what was distracting him so much. To make up for his not paying too much attention in class, Viktaal would study far more when he was outside of the classroom. He spent most of his time within the libraries and other places where information was plentiful. In fact, Viktaal started to even get ahead of the class. There were two weeks left, so there wasn't too much of a lead, but it was enough to cause even the instructors to question just what Viktaal was doing with his time. They knew that he was working on something that had to do with Arcane Magic, but considering how much he was learning on his own—obviously not in class—they wondered just what it was he planned on doing with all of the knowledge. They respected and even admired his ambition for whatever it was he was doing, but it also somewhat intimidated him.
What could he possibly be doing?
Viktaal was starting to have close encounters with Yneral; the boy was starting to crack down on what Viktaal was doing. Viktaal finally noticed that Yneral was pushing to figure out what his little project was. Viktaal couldn't let Yneral learn what he was trying to do. What Viktaal was doing was far more than just a minor spell circle, what he was trying to do exceeded the knowledge of even the instructors. What they had to offer were just the tools that he needed to fuel his own goals. Two weeks left, Viktaal thought to himself. Then I can get this kid off my back. Week FourteenThey were so close. Everybody was getting antsy because, with the week being completed, and thus one week being left, the final tests would be executed and then the graduation ceremony would begin shortly thereafter. Some were worked up about the ceremony, but they were overshadowed by the number of people worrying about the final testing. The lessons in class were slowing down, opening up more to just becoming times to study for the finals. Yneral was studying hard while Viktaal focused on his project. Occasionally, Yneral would look up to see Viktaal writing something, drawing symbols, or otherwise looking through books that definitely didn't pertain to the class, to what they were meant to focus on for the testing. This really pissed Yneral off.
"You're taking this class again, aren't you? You're taking this again to make all of us feel bad about how we're doing. You're trying to show us all up, aren't you?" Yneral roared, startling the entire class. Even the instructors jumped, their gazes all shifting to Yneral, who was glaring at Viktaal. Viktaal seemed to be paying him no heed, focused on his work. "Nine weeks into schooling, you started blowing this off like it was nothing special. You started showing everybody up by not doing anything except focus on your own little world!"
Viktaal looked up from his notebooks and hard-cover books, his neon blue eyes met with Yneral's dark brown eyes. Viktaal's expression was uncaring, if not slightly bothered by being interrupted. Yneral's was completely enraged. Yneral got up and stepped towards Viktaal, who closed all of his books and notebooks. Viktaal didn't stand, however. He wasn't about to let this turn into a fight, but judging by Yneral's rage... Viktaal sighed. His gaze shifted away and then met with the instructors who were just quietly watching, waiting for somethingto happen. In the periphery of his vision, Viktaal could see that most of the students had pulled their attention away from their studying and to the scene unfolding.
"Answer me, dammit!" Yneral roared again, though slightly louder. "What the hell are you doing?!"
Viktaal sighed again and returned his gaze to Yneral. "Minding my own business; you?" The response caused a large number of students in the class to giggle. Yneral was flustered by Viktaal's response. "I don't need to tell you what I am doing. Why does it matter to you that I am or am not studying, paying attention in class; why does my business matter to you?If you feel that I am doing better in some areas than you, you can always feel free to ask."
Yneral stepped towards Viktaal, although Viktaal still didn't move, he didn't flinch. That was when one of the instructors finally responded. "Yneral, sit down and get back to your studies!" Grudgingly, Yneral did as he was told. He would show Viktaal up. He had to. Week FifteenGraduation week. The way the testing was spaced out, a few students within the class would be tested Sunday through Friday. The testing seemed to create an ominous gloom over everybody's head excluding Viktaal. In fact, Viktaal seemed to come off as if not even realizing that it was the week for final testing. Yneral was scheduled to be tested just prior to Viktaal. When Yneral was called to the next chamber, Viktaal looked up from his, theoretically, perfect spell circle. It had eluded everybody up to this point, and he decided that he would keep this a secret even to his instructors. He closed the book that had all kinds of notes about the spell circle as well as slight deviations of it to perform different effects.
Perfected spell circles were given entire pages, and Viktaal could see the mana swirling around the book and its greater intensity when the pages were opened up. It had been roughly three and a half months since he started the class, and since then, he had been taking in far more than just the fifteen weeks of Arcane Magic was offering. He needed a faster, more in-depth pace to complete his project. And now it was done. As Viktaal thought about this with the book in his hand, he traced his index finger over the spell circle engraved into the cover. There was an identical spell circle on the back cover, both of which serving the same purpose. The book would be tucked away when he completed his project, when he applied it to its intended purpose. Yneral finished his testing.
Yneral walked back into the room with a smug look on his face. When his eyes drifted to Viktaal, Yneral sneered at him. "Well, hot-shot, you're up. Have fun failing," he said with a harsh tone. The truth, however, was that Yneral was extremely nervous about Viktaal's test results. Yneral never felt threatened in his place at "best in the class", so Viktaal was intimidating to him in that regard. Yneral gave it his all, but he was nervous that it wasn't enough. He ran over possible mistakes he could've made, he ran over things that he could've been sloppy on or not done efficiently enough. Viktaal disappeared into the chamber where the testing would occur, his book in his hand.
After the testing, there was a ceremony that would celebrate those that passed. The school of Arcane Magic was harsh on those that didn't do well, and the ceremony is where that harshness came through clearly. The speaker at the ceremony pulled out a list and stated the names of each of the students within the class. "Now, if I call your name, step up to the stage and face the audience."
The speaker rattled off a small series of names. Out of a class of roughly fifty students, only twenty-three students made it. Just under half. "The students before you," the speaker said, addressing the impressive audience that was present at the ceremony. Most of the audience consisted of scholars and mages; those that are interested in knowledge and general spellcraft. There were, of course, families within the audience. There were forty-nine families there. All of them were present, minus Viktaal's. Then, the speaker noted that the top two of the class, tied completely in grade, were Viktaal and Yneral. After the students that failed were indirectly shamed and those that passed were commended, the students were able to meet with their families. Viktaal sat at the edge of the stage, however, and watched everybody greet each other and the students interacting with their parents, their brothers and sisters, their cousins, uncles, grandparents, you name it.
Viktaal caught Yneral looking at him; Yneral felt that since he technically was still top-dog of his class, he had a greater victory since his family was there. After things started dying down, Yneral approached Viktaal and held a smug grin. "Where's your family at, Vicky?"
Viktaal looked Yneral in the eye and—with a completely blank expression—said, "They were killed in a night raid on my hometown. Every single one of them were slaughtered trying to keep me alive." As he said this, he shifted off of the stage and then stepped up to Yneral. "Your attitude will get you killed." As he spoke, however, Yneral tried to snatch the book that Viktaal had set on the stage. In a fraction of a moment, Viktaal had Yneral's throat in his grasp and had the back of his head on the stage. "Mind your own damn business," Viktaal said with a little spit, spraying Yneral's face. He let go and picked up his book, setting out to go live his life within Kalg'rai.
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Post by HERO on Apr 25, 2015 21:21:24 GMT -5
Oratus SermusSession: Arcane Magic Grad School Project This is me giving a try at a different kind of storyline for schooling, where a student might stick around for graduate studies, and work towards a new degree of sorts in what they studied, perhaps carrying away something new, while being able to postpone and continue their studies as events arise Moved to here for all needed purposes.
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Ars Moriendi
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Post by Ars Moriendi on Apr 26, 2015 0:50:12 GMT -5
|Aylin Nilufer| |School Training: (Psionics) Telekinesis and Ranged Weapons (Knives)|
|Week 1|
Aylin sat uncomfortably at the back of the classroom, her nervous gaze shifting all over the place. She had recently received her magitech device, a rather insignificant looking earring and ring, but she hadn't quite acclimated to Kalg'rai yet. Although she had had some previous training under her clan, she decided it was in her best interest to improve her skills, since she didn't have any idea of what kind of things inhabited this strange world. Spatial magic was something she was almost too afraid to touch, beyond using a hammerspace for storing items. The closest equivalent she could come up with here was Telekinesis. She had shown some aptitude back home with the magic, although it was more small tests and talk about it than anything, so she thought she would try her hand at it. Now, sitting in the classroom full of people who were a completely different culture and background, and they already knew each other, she was beginning to regret her choice. She prayed that she could avoid attention if possible, although she really needed to get new clothes. Hers stood out like a sore thumb.
"Attention class," the teacher, a middle-aged woman announced, "we will beginning on page seven of your textbook Your Mind is Your Strongest Weapon. After reading aloud we will have a quick discussion before we will demonstrate if any of those here have natural talent in the area of Telekinesis."
Aylin's heart sank, she couldn't avoid attention. Her hand slowly inched up. The teacher noticed it and called her out. "Do you need something?" she asked.
"Y-yes," Aylin said, her voice cracking, forcing her to stop and start over. "Yes, I'm afraid I don't have the textbook you are speaking about."
A small wave of snickers swept through the classroom, although it was quickly silenced by the teacher. A small look of disapproval, although not malicious, crossed her face before she stood up from her desk and placed her own copy of the textbook on Aylin's desk. "You may use mine for today," she said, not unkindly. Aylin nodded silently before flipping to the page. It was about the state of mind needed to properly use telekinesis, stable mana control and a calm mind. Aylin listened to the others read aloud, trying to acquaint herself with the way people talked. She had a lot of catching up to do. |Week 2|
Classes had been fairly normal so far. Aylin had managed to demonstrate some aptitude with telekinesis, moving a small rock around a desk fairly easily, which helped build her confidence levels. It drew a level of jealousy from the other students who weren't as quick right out the gate, but their teacher sooned reined them in, so she ignored them. She had, thankfully, been allowed to keep the copy of their main textbook for her own usage, and hadn't had to answer too many questions about why she hadn't had her own copy in the first place.
They were progressing smoothly, discussing ways to stay focused while using magic. Aylin personally found it easiest to simply detach herself when using her powers. She zeroed in on the goal with something like mental tunnel vision, and refused to allow anything to distract her. During solo activities, this worked well for her, but she struggled when forced to work in groups. She was too intense, the other students complained. She never smiled, and always seemed to be glaring at people. Aylin knew their opinion of her, and it hurt, but she brushed it off like she didn't care. Her goal was clear, and people not liking her attitude was the least of her concerns.
After telekinesis classes Aylin also attended weapons school, specializing in ranged weapons like knives, darts, and spears. Right off the bat her aim was awful, although she learned the proper stance fairly quickly. She spent some of her free time launching knives at targets in order to improve her aim. |Week 3|
Things had gotten a bit more interesting in the past week, those who were faster learners had been grouped together in order to do more advanced subjects while those who were slower continued through the usual curriculum. The accelerated students would learn more practical uses of their powers for use in real life, how to levitate things steadily, move delicate things without dropping or breaking them, that sort of thing. At least, that's what they would eventually get to.
Currently most were still working on pulling fist sized rocks towards them across the ground, even Aylin had to admit moving things smoothly involved more concentration then she'd like to admit. She was hardly top of the class, but she learned quickly, so she remained in the upper percentile, and she practiced extensively during her free time. She was getting better, everyone could see that, but she didn't accept just doing well. Mastering telekinesis was her goal, and once she set her sights on it, she wouldn't give up until she had reached it.
In weapons school her aim had improved someone, now she could actually hit the target, although no bullseye for her. Her efforts hadn't gone unnoticed, however, and the instructor offered to give her some tips to work on by herself in order to help herself even further. With his advice she finally struck a target in a fatal area, although it was a bit, low, in the teacher's opinion. Far too low for any male opponents to appreciate. It was progress at least. |Week 4|
Aylin was actually feeling really pleased with herself. They had begun learning a simple technique known as 'Telekinetic Repulse' or just 'Repulse' for short. It unleashed a wave of telekinetic energy around the user, effectively knocking back objects in a certain radius. One exercise was trying to knock down a circle of pins around them. She could get three down, although they were only the ones directly in front of her. She couldn't quite grasp the spinning motion required to get a full 360 blast, but she kept working hard.
Her teacher was impressed by her speed of learning. Although she wasn't perfect, she easily grasped basics and used them to improve her more complex moves. She watched Aylin slowly go through the motions without actually using the technique, repeating the maneuver over and over so she could get used to it. By the end of the week she could generate a full circular blast, albeit extremely weak. It was something that encouraged her. |Week 5|
"All right students, we will test today if you have a good grasp on 'Repulse'," Hyorin, the teacher, said loudly for all to hear. "This doesn't mean you have to have it perfected, we just want to make sure you all understand the basics, and see who needs more help."
"Yes, ma'am," Aylin replied back with the rest of the students. She was fairly sure she could perform the technique to Hyorin's satisfaction, but she was more towards the middle of the group, so she waited her turn.
Hyorin observed each student, some more successful than others. Most were able to knock down at least seven of the twelve pins set up around them, the major issue being the blind spot at the back of the neck. She watched a male student, Kale, perform the technique accurately, being the first to knock down all twelve. "Bravo," she said. He nodded seriously, although she saw the pride in his eyes. "But don't let it go to your head," she added. Finally she reached Aylin, the student who interested her most.
Aylin took a deep breath before gathering her mana, carefully charging up the attack to a low level before unleashing it. All twelve pins rolled on the ground. She smiled in relief. At least she hadn't embarassed herself. After Hyorin had watched the rest of the students, she named out twelve or so of the accelerated class to be moved up even further, Aylin among them. "Congratulations to those chosen, but don't slack off now. This is the most important part," she admonished. A chorus of "Yes, ma'am" echoed across the training courtyard. |Week 6|
The expression on Aylin's face was best described as stormy. Her hands were folded in her lap, and her eyes were cold. The teacher sighed as she looked at her, looking at the pile of paperwork in front of her. She waited to see if Aylin would saying anything, but the sullen girl didn't.
"Aylin, you know why you are sitting here," she said shortly. The only response was a curt shrug. "Do you realize how serious this situation is? You could be expelled." For a moment a look of panic could be seen in the girl's eyes before they returned to icy silence. "Can you explain why exactly you attacked Kale?"
"He was being annoying," Aylin replied tersely.
"You know that isn't an acceptable answer. If you don't have a legitimate reason, then I must assume to attacked another student without cause, which is a serious offense."
Aylin hesitiated. She really didn't want to get expelled. "He was 'practicing his telekinesis' by pitching rocks at people's heads on the road outside the school, and he almost hit multiple travelers. I only meant to shove him to the ground, but I guess I didn't control my 'Repulse' very well." The last part was genuinely remorseful, she had charged the attack for too long, and so it was stronger than she had intended.
The teacher exhaled heavily, crossing her arms in front of her. "Well he shouldn't have been doing that, but still, you didn't have to use your powers on him to get him to stop, did you? He's currently unconscious from being thrown into the air almost twelve feet.
"Sorry," Aylin said flatly.
Another sigh escaped the older woman's lips. "Well, I'll talk to his mother, and by some miracle maybe you won't be expelled, but you'll have some other punishment to deal with if worse doesn't come to worse."
Aylin shrugged. That was good enough for her. |Week 7|
Thankfully for Aylin, Kale made a full recovery, although his pride was damaged. She was forced to work at his family's store for a while to pay off his medical bill, and was relegated to classroom janitor, coming in after school to clean up and make sure things were all in order. Frankly, she found it relaxing, as she could study in peace after she was done cleaning. Along with this she was given a warning that if another incident occured again, she would be automatically expelled. That had managed to scare her into keeping her head low for the next couple weaks.
Beyond 'Repulse' the advanced students also began working on 'Pull' and 'Push', the goal being to speed up their ability to attract something to them, or force it away. They had done a very weak version on pebbles, but now they tried actual objects, like a sword or a mundate object like a cup. The heavier the object, the more concentration it required to move it, as well as the willpower of the user. Aylin found moving heavier objects harder, as her eyes would take on look at it and her brain would automatically think Impossible. She kept working to build up her own confidence, however, since that kind of limitation would severely cripple her effectiveness.
She had become competent at knife throwing at this point, she moved on to utilizing multiple knives at once, learning to calculate the trajectory of each knife in order to maximize their effectiveness. She also worked on some close combat with knives, although it was hardly the focus. She also began instruction in the use of flechettes, their portability making them comparable to knives in practicality. |Week 8|
Her mastery of 'Repulse' had increased greatly, her movements fluid, and her control of the technique much greater. It was her favorite in terms of what she had learned so far, but she also worked hard on 'Pull' and 'Push'. These two techniques needed more finesse, as the power relied on her decision, if she wanted to slam someone into a wall she'd have to put more effort it into, or if she just wanted to push someone slightly to get their attention a larger charge wasn't necessary. At this point she could pull an object into her hand fairly quickly, enough to whip a sword off the ground and into her hand in time to block a controlled swing from an instructor.
She still had problems moving things that weighed more than her, but she continued to work to get over that mental block. A telekinetic who couldn't move larger objects was a disgrace, in her mind. |Week 9|
"I will be personally teaching you," Hyorin informed Aylin matter-a-factly.
The girl blinked a few times, evidently not processing the information. "Pardon, repeat that?"
"I'll be your mentor in the more delicate arts of telekinesis," Hyorin said, a rather pleased look on her face. "So you are essentially my subordinate now.
Aylin didn't know quite what to think. Mentoring was not a new concept, teachers often took in their favorite students to personally train them, but the idea that she would be chosen as a student baffled her. "Um, thank you?" she said hesitantly.
"Thank you is right," the older woman said teasingly. "We'll be working on using your powers for more than just chucking things around. If you use it properly, you can predict the flow of battle and peer into the minds of the weak-willed. Does that interest you?"
Her blue eyes shining now with interest, Aylin nodded vigorously. "Yes, that sounds wonderful."
"Excellent, lets get started." |Week 10|
"Keep your eyes on me," Hyorin barked as she circled Aylin.
The girl nodded, regulating her breathing. Shooting on her right arm, almost like she was punching except her palm was open, she unleashed a telekinetic push, weak since it was just training, aimed to strike her teacher at the sternum. However, Hyorin had already figured out that move, and she quickly countered with a side step left and a push in return. Aylin's reflexes were already decent, and the training at the school had improved them, so she also managed to dodge the push.
This was their regular pattern, Hyorin would incessantly attack Aylin or vice versa, and force her to think on her feet to figure out what to do, but also to try and develop her battle senses, or the limited battle precognition that gave some telekinetics a large advantage while fighting. Developing this skill the was the next phase in Aylin's training. |Week 11|
Aylin had managed to start being able to see glimpses of moves before her opponent had even made them, which was a start, but often they came so quickly that she didn't have to utilize the information properly. She began mental exercises to increase her processing speed, since being able to see an attack coming didn't help if she couldn't actually counter it.
She was getting better at flechettes, almost preferring them to daggers, almost. She didn't have to worry about her aim much anymore, and instead worked on being creative with her weapons. She thought of an idea of attaching strings to the handles in order to be able to pull the knives back to her, but her experiments resulted in tangled rope and frustration. Even so, she kept trying. |Week 12|
Her prediction time was increasing, being able to predict the flow of mana of an opponent and anticipate attacks. She had begun working on disrupting an opponents charge, usually simple actions like knocking them down or forcing them to multitask so the charge was forced to be abandoned. Her fighting style revolved heavily around her own endurance and speed, although she didn't like to drag out fights. The faster she could finish it, the better.
In weapons, she had finally landed upon a possible idea with her concept of attaching strings to the handles. She had found a coil of razor sharp, extremely thin wire that was both flexible and strong. Working slowly, since she had to build it from scratch, she created an arm gauntlet that let her manipulate up to four knives with thread from the coil. She used her telekinesis to make sure the threads didn't tangle, although she was working on dropping that entirely and just relying on her perception of distance, speed, and time. It was the beginnings of a success. |Week 13|
It was close to graduation, so Hyorin decided to give Aylin a real test. "I'm not going to hold back," she warned, "so expect some injuries."
Aylin smirked, taking up her stance. "Wouldn't dream of running."
"Glad to hear it."
They proceeded to fight for almost thirty minutes, exchanging physical blows as well as powers. By the end, both of them were battered and bruised, their mana expended. They looked at each other's eyes with a newfound respect.
"You've grown up," Hyorin noted. "You aren't the awkward girl in the back of the classroom asking for a textbook."
"Thank god those days are over," Aylin responded with a small smile, bent over, leaning on her knees as her breath came in short gasps.
"For you, indeed." |Week 14|
Tests were on their way, so all the students were stressing. Aylin herself was spending overtime in the gym, library, and training halls, studying up on all her subjects and vigorously exercising. She was determined not to fail, since that would set her back to where she had started, and she absolutely refused to let that happen. She remained focused and determined as exam week and graduation drew closer and closer.
Aylin found herself in the library a lot, reading books on other magics and techniques out of curiosity. One that caught her eye was Arcane magic, especially because it could apparently open portals. Portals, she thought. Interesting. Whatever her plan, she would have to carry it out at a later date, since she needed to focus on the present, not the past. |Week 15 Graduation|
Aylin had mixed feelings as the school year came to an end. She was glad that her studies had come so far, and was grateful for the effort Hyorin and her other teachers had poured into her. Leaving now, she felt she had a good chance of surviving in the world of Kalg'rai.
The final exams for telekinesis consisted of a series of mental tests, to see the mental aptitude of the students, as well as physical tests, requiring them to lift an object of a specific weight and block flying projectiles while in a precarious position, to name a few. Aylin did well, really well in fact, scoring among the top percentile in her class. She was proud of herself, she had come a long ways.
Ranged combat had a less strenuous test, mainly a multi-tiered system of hitting enough targets in the correct order or time. She passed, although not spectacularly. Her results caused her to smile wryly, she needed to improve her aim. That would come with lots more practice and increased experience.
Aylin held her diploma in her hand as she posed for the final picture of the year as an overwhelming feeling of joy and sadness washed over her. She maintained a smile, but almost started crying afterwards. The school had become her home, and she would miss is sorely.
After the ceremony, Hyorin pulled Aylin aside. "I want you to have these," she said, handing her two pouches that could be carried comfortably at the waist. Aylin opened them to reveal a set of throwing knives, and a leather bag with cases of flechettes, specifically designed for a telekinetic. "They were mine back in the day, but you'll find more use for them now." The woman held back a tear, although she wasn't a sentimental person. Aylin gave her a hug and a grateful smile.
"I'll never forget what you taught me," she promised. "I might even stop by again some day."
"You'd better, or else I'll hunt you down. I expect to hear your name popping up, you hear me?"
Aylin laughed slightly. "I'll build up my fame gradually, so be patient." She slung her bag across her shoulder as she prepared to leave. "Ciao for now." Once outside the school gates, Aylin took in a long breath of air. A new day awaited her, and who knew what adventures were in the wilds of Kalg'rai?
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Ars Moriendi
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Post by Ars Moriendi on May 23, 2015 20:02:06 GMT -5
Aylin's Training Enchantment and Abjuration
Week 1
Aylin exhaled faintly as she entered the school yard. It felt like forever since she'd last been in a school, although it had only been around a year or so. Now she was back for instruction in Enchantment and Abjuration, two powers she felt would serve her best on the field. Who knew, maybe she could even make a little money off crafting permanent enchantments for people, but that skill would have to come with time, naturally.
Orientation, thankfully, wasn't as awkward as her first time, and she actually relished the opportunity to learn more. She had had a few successful hunts, but realized her own deficiencies in combat. Although she worked well enough in a group, with others covering her weak points, she realized that in single combat she would need even more versatility in order to pull off solo jobs without fear of death. Hence her choice in studies, which she felt would make her an all-round balanced fighter, a jack of all stats you could say.
In Enchantment they went over the basics, Grants and Hexes mainly. Aylin particularly found the various utilities of grants an interesting concept to work with, especially since the way she planned to use them was mainly in quick bursts that would give her a split second advantage. Of course, she would also learn how to fully charge such enchantments as well. Hexes were also fun to mess around with, although she had to be careful for the spell to not backfire on the user.
As for Abjuration, they discussed the various types of wards that were used: physical, magical, and trespassing. Aylin soaked up the information faster than she could get more of it, she was determined to learn as much as possible before the term was up. She began work on simple wards, very weak to begin with, but easy to understand. More complex, lasting wards would come later.
Week 2
Training had continued smoothly, and Aylin had gotten the hang of simple enchantments, mostly grants on herself, but she was slowly working up to casting them on others, and even inanimate objects. She learned a variety of grants, but focused especially on speed and strength, as she wanted to be able to cast them efficiently. As for hexes, she zeroed in on damage over time, slowly sapping away an opponent's strength until their fighting ability was debilitated. She especially worked on slowing an opponent down, reducing their charges power and what not.
Abjuration was a bit more complex, since quick wards were convenient, but rather weak. She was careful to spread her training time over all types of wards, since physical and magical wards were useful in combat, but trespassing wards would be excellent as protection if she were forced to camp out in a hostile territory. For the latter, she also began researching biology further, in order to craft extremely detailed wards that would most effectively repel the target. She looked into both humanoids and animals, as well as the more scientific aspects of magic, especially the repelling of powers. Her studies hopefully bore fruit in order to aid her in battle.
Week 3
Aylin had happened upon a friend, which surprised her more than anyone. Mithra was an Abjuration student who showed a great amount of natural talent, especially since she was a mere twelve years old in a school meant for at those in their late teens. A child prodigy, she supposed was the best way to put it. As it was, both Aylin and Mithra were something of social outcasts, Aylin because she was such a foreigner to Kalg'rai, although she had certainly acclimated herself by this point, and Mithra because of her age and her appearance. Simply put, the sclera of Mithra's eyes were pitch black, although her irises were blue, which caused most to be perturbed. This trait actually meshed well with Aylin's own sojourner status, and the two got along well, working together on developing strong wards, and practicing against each other in order to make charge time as efficient as possible.
Enchantment had also picked up, with the students now casting grants and hexes against and for one another. One poor student got hit with a misfired spell that put him in the school hospital for a few days, fast asleep. Apparently it was a hypnosis spell that wasn't very accurate. Aylin worked on projectile spells as well as close range ones, since she had some equipment that aided in that sort of thing. She could cast weak grants on other students, and her hexes were growing in power. She was pleased with her progress, but refused to stop there.
Week 4
Aylin spent more and more time with Mithra, and her affection for the girl grew. They shared a love of reading, which helped in their biology studies, and they often cross-referenced each other if one had a question. Although she was incredibly intelligent, Mithra did lack a level of common sense, understanding complex problems, but having difficulty relating to the everyday problems of teenagers. This was attributed both to her age and lifestyle before school, which was one of constant study and information. Aylin hoped to help tone down her intensely serious attitude on life, and spent a fair amount of leisure time trying to get Mithra to loosen up. It sometimes worked, especially when paired with each other for tag team spars. Crafting spells was something that made Mithra always happier.
Aylin worked to fine tune the grants and hexes she was comfortable with, and expand her range even further, keeping a careful ratio of hexes to grants. She didn’t want the chance of a slip up in battle, which could lead to defeat, and even death, depending on the situation. She worked consistently well, earning the good will of her teachers, which helped her keep a low profile. In her spare time she also began reading up on Manipulation, although it was really only a graduate subject. She wasn't even sure if she was interested in it, but wanted to educate herself nonetheless.
Week 5
A group project in Abjuration was creating a maze and guiding a blindfolded rat through it using trespassing wards. The more the creature ran into walls, the more points were taken away. Aylin studied up on rats, noting their apparent lack of intellect, and worked on her portion of the maze. She was getting better at understanding exactly what to implement in her spell to repel her target the way she wanted it, although the exercise certainly helped her further.
She also began focusing more and more on hexes in Enchantment, wanting a decent arsenal at her disposal. Plus, it allowed for a great amount of creativity on her part in terms of what she cursed her opponent with. It was actually rather amusing to experiment. She didn't go too far, naturally, but she did take a bit of pleasure seeing her hexes succeed.
Week 6
Mithra had sadly fallen ill, so Aylin skipped out of a few classes to tend to her. The strange girl managed a smile or two, which made Aylin a very happy person. She had taken on a mixture of an older sister and mother to the twelve year old, a role she was somewhat uncomfortable with, since she was originally the younger sibling. A pang of emotion hit her as she thought of Koray. She wondered what he was doing now, and she spent an hour or so curled up in the corner of her dorm room crying.
Studies continued as usual, and her wards were growing in sophistication, which pleased her. Her Enchantment training was also coming along well, smoothing over wrinkles sort to speak.
Week 7
She was about half way through the semester, and she felt pretty confident about her progression. Although not a master, she was on her way to being able to execute all manner of offensive and defensive maneuvers that would probably keep her alive in a fight. She had no intentions of dying, that would defeat the purpose of her being there. With Mithra back in classes, Aylin worked with her after hours to cram in even more practice, which helped her more than the younger girl. Still, it was enjoyable for both of them, although Mithra rarely expressed this except for a half-smile that sometimes graced her lips. For Aylin, it was enough.
Week 8
With half her time at the school gone, Aylin forced herself to focus even further into her studies. In her extra biology studies, now added with physics, she had become observant enough to be able to determine a proper kind of ward fairly easily, although entities of less obvious creation required a bit more time to analyze. This coupled with her limited battle clairvoyance, it gave her a very small edge when it came to repelling an opponent.
Along with simple matter, she also delved deeper into the more exact measurements of magic, namely force behind spells and the nature of supernatural beings. She particularly began crafting a personal hex of her own design, although this took an incredible amount of time and research. Disassembly of mana particles, or perhaps more mundane forces of matter, was something that intrigued her. It wouldn't be easy though.
Week 9
Aylin found herself in the library a lot, reading books not only on hexes, but also anti magic. She was aware that anti magic itself was a separate ability, but she thought it might be possible to use some of its principles in enchantment. Her own thought was ripping apart the bonds that held mana together, effectively destroying the spell or object targeted. It would require a lot of charge time and preparation though, which made it more of a last resort in a straight up fight.
She had also successfully completed her rat maze, and got a decent score on it too. She felt a little bad about the rat, but didn't think about it too much. It only ran into five walls, so it was fine, right? She'd justify it to herself later. They had begun sparring too, specifically to make use of physical wards in melee combat. Of course, because of the nature of that kind of fighting, the wards wouldn't be full charges, but it would make avoiding hits a lot easier, and Aylin implemented it into her fighting style. Just another stepping stone in achieving her long term goal. Week 10
Week 11
Aylin had discovered one way that made her hex design a lot easier. She implemented her own knowledge of spatial tears to the spell, namely the ripping apart of particles. Since she knew the feeling of tearing molecules apart, she would need to approximate this in spell form, and she worried that it would be uncontrollable, but didn't dwell on that fact too much. She continued looking up on the weakness of spells and magical objects.
Along with her work on hexes she was almost certain that she could cast a decent ward of any type in a combat scenario. This was not to say she was untouchable, since wards can be broken by all manner of means, but it gave her a sense of security, false or not. Week 12
With exams drawing closer, Aylin found herself being worn down a bit by the constant work. She wished she could just take a break, although that wasn't really a good idea, considering all that she needed to get done before school's end. She had gotten her hex to the point where she could nullify weak spells, but it still needed work. She suspected that she would need to research further even after graduation. That didn't bother her though, since it gave her something to do beyond schooling.
Her teachers were wrapping up the final subjects of the semester, which she was grateful for, and she had more time to perfect her existing abilities. She had learned most everything she needed to, at this point.
Week 13
With most of her classes wrapped up, Aylin got a bit more leisure time, which she took advantage of. She hung out with a few other students she had gotten to know, and slept more than she had in a very long time. It felt wonderful to say the least. She had resigned herself to exams, but promised herself to do her best.
Mithra had finally opened up to her, and the two would talk about their pasts, a subject Aylin hadn't touched since she had arrived in Kalg'rai. They laughed and cried and bonded over their memories, leading to Aylin giving Mithra a communication crystal by which she could be found if ever needed. She also promised a special gift on Graduation day, which the younger girl eagerly waited for. Week 14
Aylin was excited for graduation. She felt confident in her own abilities, but did take a good amount of time dedicated to studying. In Enchantment she had a general idea of what was expected on the final. She would need to demonstrate her ability to cast both kinds of spells, hexes and grants, and demonstrate creativity in her applications. She wasn't too worried about this part, but she wanted to make sure that she wouldn't make a stupid mistake due to carelessness, so she poured over her notes to ensure that her spells would be accurate.
As for Abjuration, similarly, she would need to demonstrate a sufficient knowledge and skill in use of all three major kinds of wards. Physical wards weren't too much of a problem for her, and trespassing magical wards shouldn't be difficult, although magical wards tended to be slower for her to cast, since she had to analyze the nature of the spell she was trying to block before making the ward. She studied for long hours with Mithra, who also spent a decent amount of time running through textbooks and notes. Week 15 Graduation
Aylin toyed with the hem of her jacket as the speaker droned on and on about the accomplishments of the students. Sheesh, did he have to list every single thing they did this entire school term? She sighed quietly, and tuned out the speaker as she reflected inward. After graduation she planned on continuing taking bounties, possibly meeting up with some fellow hunters, and building up her fame. She hoped that one day she would have enough recognition and resources to be able to find a way back to her home, where ever it was in relation to Kalg'rai. That was one goal that would never change, she was sure.
After the ceremony she delivered Mithra the promised gift, the rose wand she had won off a target in a bounty hunt. She knew Mithra planned on studying Arcane Magic, so the wands special ability would help her far more than it would help Aylin. Mithra was incredibly pleased by this, since it was an item she wouldn't usually be able to get just anywhere. Aylin found her glee amusing, although she had to remind herself that the girl was indeed only twelve. After Mithra graduated she would go on to another school, so Aylin promised to keep in touch.
She wasn't quite sure where she would go now, but she was sure she would find some new adventure. As she left the school campus, a small smile curved across her lips. "Bring it on," she murmured quietly to herself. "I'm ready."
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