After Weaver returns to Dwal's side with the potion, Ooboron waits to catch her eye and give her a smile of encouragement. The moment never comes as the fairy continues her excited chatter and then leads the group toward the gallery. The loxodon's shoulders slump a little, but he follows behind, wondering why he had expected anything different. He pauses beside the light, thinking about how everyone who had reached in had been rewarded with a potion. He lifts a hand and tentatively slides it into the light. As he feels the potion, he grasps gingerly it and pulls it free. His shy grin returns as he looks at the prize. Stowing it away, he hurries to catch up with the rest of the group entering the gallery.

"Hey big guy," Theodore addresses Ooboron, "you got a lot of magical like folk in your family or town? Seeing as you're the only Loxidon in the school, you must be really something special!"

The rabbit grins while the group moves towards the gallery, "I only got magic from the granddad, [at least the portrait of the guy with 'Theodore Habinurg' under it, looked old and wizardy] they said I can't be a real wizard because I don't have the 'talent' whatever that means. But since he came here, they let me in." 

Glancing at the instruments *this guy's family must be rich, those are worth...STOP IT! you need to make friends, he is NOT a mark* "You like some kinda singer? I'd love to hear one of your songs! Maybe you can play for our group later!"

Continuing in a jaunty stride, the rabbit keeps company with his biggest best friend.

As your motley crew traipses towards the gallery, you are greeted with stares. Who is this mishmashed crew walking so confidently (or not, in Ooboron's case), down the halls, yet they are first years? 

Eliae, Elsenia, Dwal, Theo, Venrys:

The gallery is a crisp-looking room featuring white walls and columns that stretch from floor to ceiling. Displayed on or within these are art pieces representative of various media.

What would you like to do?

"Ooboron?  That's a lot of letters.  Can I call you O.B.?  Or Ron?  What do you like to be called?" Weaver is starting to notice the loxodon's withdrawn nature, so she tries to engage him directly.  "I asked Dwal, but I'm not sure he heard me, or maybe he responded and I didn't hear it, but I'll ask you too - what's your favorite smell?  I want to do something nice for you."  Weaver opens her satchel and rummages around for a bit, pushing past paint pots and brushes, small sets of angled hexagonal wrenches, a magnifying glass, an inordinate number of small, shiny rocks, and an ornate hand mirror before pulling out a small brass trinket.  It looks like a broach, but no bigger than a gold piece, with a small folding pin on the back.  

(Weaver uses her Magical Tinkering ability to imbue the pin with whatever Ooboron says his favorite smell is, then she'll hand it to him to wear.)

"There!  If you change your mind, or get a new favorite smell, I can change it to that.  I have like a dozen favorite smells and they don't always go well together.  We'll start you with just one."

Looking around at the gallery, Weaver just tries to remember that these paintings are supposed to be here, and she shouldn't add to them on her first day.  But that picture of the old wizard in a hat would look so much better with a tressym in his lap!  Maybe after dark she'll come back...

Elsenia smiles at Eliae to show that she is not offended by the questions. She knew her fellow students would likely be very interested in her background. For all she knew, she was the only Shadar-kai student at the Academy.

"Yes, I am," she answers now. "It's a bit of a long story, but tales of Strixhaven reach even the far planes such as Shadowfell. I met a man named Varrick Zane. He is what is known as a Planeswalker, someone with the ability to move between planes at will."

Elsenia knew this small tidbit was likely only to stoke even further curiosity, but the full tale would have to be told later. "Maybe when we're all settled, I can tell you more about the Shadowfell and about Zane," she says now. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well!"

As they continue to the gallery, Elsenia catches a glimpse of a group of students staring at them. They seem to have disapproving looks in their eyes and even turn away to laugh as they pass by. Elsenia's pale face flushes. Of course she hadn't expected to be universally liked at the Academy but to have others judge her so soon...Her stomach dropped as they passed.

Theodore also notices the other group of students, "Don't worry about those fluffy tarts, we can deal with them later." he says with a slight snarl. 

 He takes a second to memorize their features.

Ooboron is startled when Theodore is suddenly at his knee speaking to him. He looks down at the harengon, trying to absorb everything he's saying. "Magic? Um ... well, not a lot of magic. Some magic." He glances around at the other students. "Do you really think I'm the only loxodon?" As Theodore continues, Ooboron looks down at him again and shrugs one shoulder. "I don't really sing. I play instruments." He pauses, then says more quietly. "What I really love to do is to act." He looks almost apologetic as he admits this.

Just as suddenly, Weaver is speaking to Ooboron again. He looks up for the fairy. In response to her question about shortening his name, he shrugs again. "I guess you can call me whatever you want. My grandma calls me Ooby, but she's the only one. My favorite smell?" He thinks for a moment. "Maybe moss?" He watches as Weaver plays around with her pack. He notices she uses some very tiny tools to work on something he can't quite make out. He's amazed at how tiny they are. After what doesn't seem like very long at all, she holds out a brass pin. He takes it tenderly and looks at it. When she indicates that he should smell it, his trunk curls and bends so the end is just above the brooch. He takes a deep breath, and his mouth drops. "How did you do that?" he asks, amazed. It smelled very similar to the moss at home. He holds it down for Theodore to smell it as well and then pins it to the front of his vest, continuing to smell it as they enter the gallery.

Eliae's returns Elsenia’s smile. "I would like that!" she replies, relieved that her attempt at conversation didn't result in embarrassment.

Moving past the group of students, she does not seem to notice any animosity; instead, her gaze lingers on their various robes, each student’s marked by the colour of their chosen college. "Wow," she murmurs softly, admiration evident in her voice. "They must be proper students - with a college and everything." She offers them a quick nod, but it goes unreturned as the group laughs and walks away. 

Brushing off the slight, Eliae refocuses her attention on the task at hand as they enter the gallery. "Alumni commission works when they retire," she recites the clue, her mind already racing to decipher its meaning. "So we’re obviously looking for something related to Alumni, right? This is a gallery, so perhaps a work of art made by an alumni? Or one featuring them?"

Her gaze sweeps over the gallery's walls, searching for some such piece to point them in the right direction.

Venrys followed the group to the gallery. He took note of the upperclassmen who threw sneers their way and returned their jeers with a subtle nod and a stoic, almost disinterested glare. A polite show of backbone, at once deferential and defiant. He turned back to the group, specifically the harengon. “Leave them be. They’re just trying to get a rise out of us for now. If they try to escalate things, well . . . we can deal with it then. For now, they’re little more than a distraction.” He punctuated his sentence with a warm smile. "Hang around enough nobles and you'll get a feel for who is worth being worried by, and who is just trying to make an impression."

He turned his attention back to Elsenia and Eliae. He had many more questions to ask about the Shadowfell, and the Shadar-Kai. Specifically, if there had been others before who had somehow crossed the barrier between worlds. Before he could ask his questions, however, they had reached their destination. He perused the gallery. “Or perhaps a work commissioned by one, Eliae. Alumni commission works when they retire, seeking promising mages to inspire. That was the clue, yes?” He browses the art in the gallery, half looking for an answer to the clue. "Might it be a play on words? After all, if you inspire someone, you make them look up to you." He glances at the ceiling.

Perception 15

Theodore looks up at Ooby and smiles, "Well, you're looking around from wayyy up there and I can only see what's down here." His nose wrinkles at the scent of moss. It is not something he is familiar with and decides to categorize it as 'naturey'.

"I think the E&E's have a good idea what to look for." *alumni must mean old like...old. I mean, look at these oldsters.* The rabbit pretends to be interested in paintings of old human wizards, and old lady witches, and old dwarf warlocks, and groups of old folks doing magicky things... *Whoa shit! that one looked back at me!*

He gives Venrys a nod, he knows a lot about nobles and how they treat people.

Investigation check at disadvantage since Theo doesn't really know what to look for 16 

Dwal pays no attention to those other students. He turns his attention to the task at hand and looks for a clue.
Perception: 5

Elsenia turns to the rows and rows of paintings. Art was of a much simpler form in her village. There were craftsmen who made furniture and decorative objects, but no one was a painter. There just weren't the supplies for that. It would've been too expensive. So the druid is particularly impressed by these works of art. So many beautiful images. She longs to touch one of the canvasses but restrains herself at the last moment. Perhaps that is not allowed.

She follows Venrys' lead and looks toward the paintings higher up. Maybe there is a section dedicated to paintings made by alumni. She'll try to find a sign or a section that denotes that, but if she doesn't find anything she returns to the others, continuing the search.

Investigation - 16

As you all wander through the gallery, Elsenia & Theo see a portrait of several older alumni wearing Prismari College robes. If you examine the portrait, you find a plaque that reads: “At Strixhaven we were all inspired.” Below the plaque is a small lever.

Elsenia stops at the portrait of several alumni in Prismari robes. She reads the plaque and then examines the lever. Hesitating for just a moment, she pulls the lever to see what, if anything, will happen.

A small pendant drops out. One on side is the symbol of Witherbloom college, a withered tree, and on the other is the 5 pointed Strixhaven Star, symbol of Strixhaven University.

Add a [Tooltip Not Found] to your inventory.

Anyone else who pulls the lever also receives one in a house of your choice (withered tree for WitherBloom, flaming tidal wave for Prismari, a golden scroll for Lorehold, a book and quill for Silverquill, & a dodecahedron for Quandrix)

Edit: I hate tooltips right now. The item is called a Strixhaven Pendant.

Ooboron is slowly walking around the gallery, his eyes moving from the piece of paper to the paintings — one at a time — when he hears excited voices behind him. He turns to see a few of the others gathered around one of the paintings. He watches as someone does something beneath the frame and then holds up some kind of pendant. Curious, the loxodon walks in that direction.

Theodore's eyes light up and he ponders the choices. His ears fold down when he looks at the scroll and book *looks like those bully kids would wear that thinking they're smarter than everybody else* The wave intrigues him, and his ears perk up when he selects it.

He flips it over and examines it. Magic folk got some fancy stuff.

Dwal nods in approval. 

Elsenia holds up the pendant to better inspect it. It's the withered tree of Witherbloom. Even though others might see a decaying tree as something negative or ugly, she finds it beautiful. Smiling, she puts the pendant over her neck and turns to the others.

"Another clue down! I think we'll be able to get them all at this rate."

"Unlikely." a young man snorts as he passes by. it's the human from earlier, the one in silverquill. He has a quite regal and snooty appearance, his upturned nose looks down on all of you, despite his slender and short stature. He strides by, his steps long and purposeful, as if he has somewhere MUCH better to be. "oh, and try getting some... nicer clothes." he smirks, his own finely pressed robes in stark contrast to your druidic vestments. "And possibly some dignity" he begins to walk away, snickering to himself.