Fianna scoffs at most of the food on display and only selectively choose very specific items. She has no need to try the strange and noxious brews others eat. She wants real food, the stuff she knows and grew up with.
"So when exactly do classes start? And what exactly happens if you ditch them?" Fianna asks everyone and nobody in particular. "I mean they have me doing something every day of the week! I am most definitely going to be needing some mental health days!"
Katar picks many of the more exotic and strange dishes, before long his plate is a mashup of a variety of exotic foods from all over. He sits down with his new roommates, careful not to drop any of the dishes he is balancing in his arms. In response to Fianna, Katar says "I'm not sure, maybe there is some sort of break. I can't really understand wanting to miss out on classes, but I guess not everyone feels the same."
Aard'len quickly runs though the same greeting process with Lohrae, sending his thanks to her in his usual mental manner. He glances quickly through the wallet of information, before finding his way to his bunk. He looks around and his small collection of belonging seems meagre when compared to Darby's huge trunk, and Kiebel's larger area. Still, it has always sufficed for his needs up to now.
He wanders along with the rest of the group in silence, both vocal and mental. In his head he recalls Fianna's request that he announce himself before communicating mentally, and the irony that anyone can just start talking out loud and those that can hear it have no choice in the matter. He tries to work out how his ability to think to someone is any different... The passing paciderms break his reverie and he tunes back into the group as they wander.
"Yes, uh Sprocket is the latest model....I've made many not as....efficient as Sprocket here," Darby explains their ruddy cheeks a bit pinker with the confession. "What are your talents, " they ask next looking at their companions as they follow into the dining hall.
Through his croaky voice, Aard'len pipes up "As most of you know, I can think into people's heads...It's easier for me and quicker than talking out loud." He coughs to clear his throat and again takes a sip of water before continuing, "I can talk to one person easily, and I know a trick to message a second person at the same time. Unfortunately I can't talk to multiple people like this..."He indicates the group chatter that they are engaging in now. "I'm hoping to find a way to improve that here. As well as other things."
Somewhere between Darby's zealous attempts to try everything and Fianna's precise selection, Aard'len selects anything that looks stodgy, or smooth, or tasty... which he admits to himself is most things, he avoids some biscuits and breads that appear dry and flaky, and pies with a hard crust. Still, he stops when his plate is less than full, convincing himself that if he needs to eat more that there are likely to be leftovers from everyone's first platters to make a second run at things. Sitting at the table with their group he reminds himself to vocalise, "Aren't we all here for the classes? How are we going to learn if we don't go?"
"I'll sign up for anything they offer," Darby declares after chewing a roasted meat of some sort and washing it down with a mug of berry cider. "There won't be enough time," the add looking slightly disappointed for a moment. "What classes are you looking forward to most," they ask the group. "I'm Introduction to Archaeomancy," they add grinning taking a large bit of a fruit tart!
Aard'len nods at the dwarf's preference, "That, but Computational Magic sounds so much fun! I can't wait to see how they translate magic into numbers." His tone is eager, the most chang3 in his voice that you've heard from Aard'len since meeting him, before he puts another morsel into his mouth and chews.
"I'm definitely not here for the classes. I'm pretty sure I've about peaked in regards to magical talents," Fianna explains grumpily though trying to brush it off as if she's fine with that. "I'm here because nobody from my little town had even as much talent as I did so they pulled some strings or something... That and the fact my parents told me I either attended here or I could find my own roof to sleep under and my own meals to cook. This sounded easier... at least for the time being."
"Your parents actually threatened to kick you out? I can't imagine..." Aard'len's voice though rough is genuinely sympathetic, "Though I guess sending you away for a school year at a time isn't much different. Why would they do that?"
“We disagreed,” Fianna answers, trying to brush off the question. “About everything. All the time. I had the smallest of magical talent so they thought I should strive to be the Great Gazoo or some crap. I realized my talents lie in. Other directions.”
"That's... sad." Aard'len pauses, and you can see him giving serious consideration to the concept. "Though, if it helped you understand something about yourself then at least there was some positive. Me? I'm here to see what I can do. I've had this talent for a long time, but where I lived was more... militant. There wasn't anyone or any books that could help me learn more. When I learned about Strixhaven... It was a chance to be more.... To be strong." The last words are a little mumbled, as though he is ashamed to hope for it. His face quickly turns back to a light-hearted smile, and he continues with a brighter demeanour, "That might be the most I've said in a long time. Perhaps someone else, can take over with their tale? Darby, Katar?"
Katar looks engaged while Fianna is telling her story, once she and Aard'len finish talking, he speaks up. "Honestly, my story isn't very interesting." He then turns to Darby "But if you're willing, I would be interested in hearing more about your home."
Fianna rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. "Nobody finds their OWN story interesting. They lived it. It's old hat to them. Boring. Bore-Ing! But we never heard it, definitely didn't live it... So spill."
"Oh, uh..." Darby pauses cleaning their hands and face on a linen napkin before they begin again. "I come from a long line of smith's. The Deepdelver clan makes armor and weapons for kings above and under the mountain. I...well I wanted more. My parent's weren't exactly thrilled when I was accepted but they're dealing with my brothers' betrothals and I made my way out of the mountain to here," they explain with a shrug. "They liked my gadgets but....well I want to make things better and maybe make my own legacy," they add as Sprocket whirring and cooing at Fianna's tiny owl!
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
In response to Fianna, Katar says"I grew up in a village that didn't know anything about magic or the things that come with it, so when they saw I could do things like this..." He pauses to touch a weak leg of the table they're eating over; and little vines sprout from his hand and wrap themselves around the leg securing it tightly against the table."But I met someone who told me all about this place, and he took me here. I came here because I wanted to learn more about my abilities."
"Ahem." A young tiefling woman in fine black clothing with the occasional embellishment of silver stands by the table. her posture is so straight as to be looming above the four. While her clothing is high quality, it leans to the utilitarian, and hanging from her belt is a flanged mace with wicked looking sharpened points. Her face is stoic and proper, lips pressed together, though it's hard to say whether this indicates confidence, derision, or calculation. She looks down the bridge of her nose and says, "You all were the ones who slew the mimic in the Biblioplex." It's a statement, not a question. "May I join you? The team I initially had seemed maladaptive and inefficient. One member, Boscha, incorrectly interpreted the first clue and refused to budge, meaning we completed no aspect of the scavenger hunt before the panic. I feel it was not the best start, so I seek a better footing from which to begin my studies. I am Zemeia ..." She pauses as though she will continue but declines and continues to loom and awaits an answer.
Aard'len turns to the tiefling as she introduces herself. "You're correct, though it wasn't all that dramatic, we just happened to be near it. Pull up a pew and fill your plate, I would hope that the fun on the scavenger hunt isn't something that affects our actual grades." He sips some juice and takes a small bite of a gelatinous dessert. "We were just talking about what brought us each here. Care to add to our tales?"
"I think you're off to a great start! I've never seen anything like Sprocket, have you made anything else?"
"I have! Many things! Self knitting needles, a broom that sweeps by itself, and countless other uh domestic aids. Sprocket here was my first real adventurers success," the dwarf says slightly pink checked. "Plenty of learning was had from their prototypes, " they add beaming. Looking at Zemeia now. "We're speaking a bit about our talents, " Darby pauses to gesture at the mechanical owl on the table, "and where we're from," they add smiling at the tiefling. "Would you care to share," they add curiously.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Fianna scoffs at most of the food on display and only selectively choose very specific items. She has no need to try the strange and noxious brews others eat. She wants real food, the stuff she knows and grew up with.
"So when exactly do classes start? And what exactly happens if you ditch them?" Fianna asks everyone and nobody in particular. "I mean they have me doing something every day of the week! I am most definitely going to be needing some mental health days!"
Katar picks many of the more exotic and strange dishes, before long his plate is a mashup of a variety of exotic foods from all over. He sits down with his new roommates, careful not to drop any of the dishes he is balancing in his arms. In response to Fianna, Katar says "I'm not sure, maybe there is some sort of break. I can't really understand wanting to miss out on classes, but I guess not everyone feels the same."
"Classes!" Fianna sighs. "I mean... Why? Most of the world is happening outside of classes and never takes them at all!"
Through his croaky voice, Aard'len pipes up "As most of you know, I can think into people's heads...It's easier for me and quicker than talking out loud." He coughs to clear his throat and again takes a sip of water before continuing, "I can talk to one person easily, and I know a trick to message a second person at the same time. Unfortunately I can't talk to multiple people like this..." He indicates the group chatter that they are engaging in now. "I'm hoping to find a way to improve that here. As well as other things."
Somewhere between Darby's zealous attempts to try everything and Fianna's precise selection, Aard'len selects anything that looks stodgy, or smooth, or tasty... which he admits to himself is most things, he avoids some biscuits and breads that appear dry and flaky, and pies with a hard crust. Still, he stops when his plate is less than full, convincing himself that if he needs to eat more that there are likely to be leftovers from everyone's first platters to make a second run at things. Sitting at the table with their group he reminds himself to vocalise, "Aren't we all here for the classes? How are we going to learn if we don't go?"
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
"I'll sign up for anything they offer," Darby declares after chewing a roasted meat of some sort and washing it down with a mug of berry cider. "There won't be enough time," the add looking slightly disappointed for a moment. "What classes are you looking forward to most," they ask the group. "I'm Introduction to Archaeomancy," they add grinning taking a large bit of a fruit tart!
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Aard'len nods at the dwarf's preference, "That, but Computational Magic sounds so much fun! I can't wait to see how they translate magic into numbers." His tone is eager, the most chang3 in his voice that you've heard from Aard'len since meeting him, before he puts another morsel into his mouth and chews.
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
"I'm definitely not here for the classes. I'm pretty sure I've about peaked in regards to magical talents," Fianna explains grumpily though trying to brush it off as if she's fine with that. "I'm here because nobody from my little town had even as much talent as I did so they pulled some strings or something... That and the fact my parents told me I either attended here or I could find my own roof to sleep under and my own meals to cook. This sounded easier... at least for the time being."
"Your parents actually threatened to kick you out? I can't imagine..." Aard'len's voice though rough is genuinely sympathetic, "Though I guess sending you away for a school year at a time isn't much different. Why would they do that?"
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
“We disagreed,” Fianna answers, trying to brush off the question. “About everything. All the time. I had the smallest of magical talent so they thought I should strive to be the Great Gazoo or some crap. I realized my talents lie in. Other directions.”
“What about you? What are your great life plans?”
"That's... sad." Aard'len pauses, and you can see him giving serious consideration to the concept. "Though, if it helped you understand something about yourself then at least there was some positive. Me? I'm here to see what I can do. I've had this talent for a long time, but where I lived was more... militant. There wasn't anyone or any books that could help me learn more. When I learned about Strixhaven... It was a chance to be more.... To be strong." The last words are a little mumbled, as though he is ashamed to hope for it. His face quickly turns back to a light-hearted smile, and he continues with a brighter demeanour, "That might be the most I've said in a long time. Perhaps someone else, can take over with their tale? Darby, Katar?"
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Katar looks engaged while Fianna is telling her story, once she and Aard'len finish talking, he speaks up. "Honestly, my story isn't very interesting." He then turns to Darby "But if you're willing, I would be interested in hearing more about your home."
Fianna rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. "Nobody finds their OWN story interesting. They lived it. It's old hat to them. Boring. Bore-Ing! But we never heard it, definitely didn't live it... So spill."
"Oh, uh..." Darby pauses cleaning their hands and face on a linen napkin before they begin again. "I come from a long line of smith's. The Deepdelver clan makes armor and weapons for kings above and under the mountain. I...well I wanted more. My parent's weren't exactly thrilled when I was accepted but they're dealing with my brothers' betrothals and I made my way out of the mountain to here," they explain with a shrug. "They liked my gadgets but....well I want to make things better and maybe make my own legacy," they add as Sprocket whirring and cooing at Fianna's tiny owl!
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
"Sounds like we all landed here with something to prove... In a place as magical as this, that should make for fun tales or crushing disappointment!"
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
"I think you're off to a great start! I've never seen anything like Sprocket, have you made anything else?"
In response to Fianna, Katar says "I grew up in a village that didn't know anything about magic or the things that come with it, so when they saw I could do things like this..." He pauses to touch a weak leg of the table they're eating over; and little vines sprout from his hand and wrap themselves around the leg securing it tightly against the table. "But I met someone who told me all about this place, and he took me here. I came here because I wanted to learn more about my abilities."
"Ahem." A young tiefling woman in fine black clothing with the occasional embellishment of silver stands by the table. her posture is so straight as to be looming above the four. While her clothing is high quality, it leans to the utilitarian, and hanging from her belt is a flanged mace with wicked looking sharpened points. Her face is stoic and proper, lips pressed together, though it's hard to say whether this indicates confidence, derision, or calculation. She looks down the bridge of her nose and says, "You all were the ones who slew the mimic in the Biblioplex." It's a statement, not a question. "May I join you? The team I initially had seemed maladaptive and inefficient. One member, Boscha, incorrectly interpreted the first clue and refused to budge, meaning we completed no aspect of the scavenger hunt before the panic. I feel it was not the best start, so I seek a better footing from which to begin my studies. I am Zemeia ..." She pauses as though she will continue but declines and continues to loom and awaits an answer.
Zemeia is pronounced zuh-MAY-uh
Aard'len turns to the tiefling as she introduces herself. "You're correct, though it wasn't all that dramatic, we just happened to be near it. Pull up a pew and fill your plate, I would hope that the fun on the scavenger hunt isn't something that affects our actual grades." He sips some juice and takes a small bite of a gelatinous dessert. "We were just talking about what brought us each here. Care to add to our tales?"
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
"Yes, please join us!" Darby adds to the greeting.
Looking back to Katar's question:
"I have! Many things! Self knitting needles, a broom that sweeps by itself, and countless other uh domestic aids. Sprocket here was my first real adventurers success," the dwarf says slightly pink checked. "Plenty of learning was had from their prototypes, " they add beaming. Looking at Zemeia now. "We're speaking a bit about our talents, " Darby pauses to gesture at the mechanical owl on the table, "and where we're from," they add smiling at the tiefling. "Would you care to share," they add curiously.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
“I can’t promise we’re going to be particularly adaptive or efficient,” Fianna says with a smirk. “But by all means, join at your own risk.., “