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/qst/ - Quests


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>>
I'm an idiot and hit post early on accident.
>>3708603
Water splashes underfoot as you trudge through the puddle filled cobblestone streets of Homeport, the constant low noise of rain splattering off your raised hood drowning out some of the bustle of the city. Thankfully the smell of the capital isn’t nearly as bad as you’d heard it would be on the voyage over, and the steady rain is making the heat of late summer quite mild by your standards. Homeport’s wide boulevards are crowded despite the weather and early hour, filled with citizens beginning their day, small-time traders setting up stands and wagons to hawk goods from, and travelers from the colonies like yourself who are equally out of place in the massive port city.

Tightly spaced multi-storied buildings dominate the flanks of most streets, blocking off swathes of the horizon in a way that is still a bit disorienting to you. Navigating the city is a blur of brick and mortar, stone and arches, colorful and often eccentric signage for shops, and all of it stained darker hues by soot and smog from the city’s almost innumerable chimneys and factories. The rows of carefully planted trees running along the many boulevards are at least a familiar bit of nature as they’re of a type native to your colony, and you stick close to them to avoid the worst of the rain.

Many others seem to have the same idea, and moving through the packed crowds around the trees is an unfamiliar task. All the stories you’ve heard of pickpockets that prey on clueless travelers come to mind as you press through the more densely filled areas. Clutching tightly to your satchel bag, a plain canvas affair containing your magical implements and academy application forms as well as what little else you own, you make your way through the denser areas of the crowd and eventually find a clear spot to get your bearings back.

It doesn’t take long to do so, the peak of the academy’s massive central stone pyramid visible at this angle even over the many tall buildings of Homeport, and you start off toward it once again. It's been like this for the last hour, ever since you were hurried off of the passenger liner you arrived at the civilian docks on, a halting start stop affair as you struggle through the maze of streets that make up the city. Your ship arrived annoyingly late due to a nasty storm at sea and it is now the last day for academy applications, but despite all of that trouble you're still making good time and it looks like you’ll be at the academy’s gates in half an hour or so.

Things are going well, everything considered! Or at leas they were until you…

>Were struck by a fancy horseless carriage while crossing a mostly empty side street.
>Had your bag suddenly snatched by a gang of thieves, and now they’re running off with it!
>Ran right into what looks like a murder in progress in an alleyway.
>Had to take cover in a nearby building as the rain and wind began to rapidly worsen.
>>
>>3708645
>Were struck by a fancy horseless carriage while crossing a mostly empty side street.
Damn rich folks
>>
>>3708645
>>Were struck by a fancy horseless carriage while crossing a mostly empty side street.
kek dead from the start
>>
>>3708645
>Ran right into what looks like a murder in progress in an alleyway.
>>
>>3708653
>>3708662

Reasoning that risking the more confusing side streets again is worth it if you can avoid the city’s larger crowds you head off of the main boulevards and onto smaller side paths. It looks like it was a good decision, as progress is quite swift for several minutes with only a handful of small crowds and the occasional carriage blocking your path. Without the overwhelming hustle and bustle of the larger streets you have a minute to enjoy the walk, taking in the various sights and smells of your surroundings. Newly painted facades of bright colors standing out even in the rain, the scent of freshly baked bread as you pass by a small bakery, the low roar of a combustion engine…

You glance to your right a moment too late, catching a brief glimpse of the front of a large white car just before it rams into you, your head smashing against something hard as you’re sent rolling violently over its hood and then onto the rain damp stone of the street. Everything goes black for half a moment and you find yourself sprawled on the ground face half in a muddy puddle, pain flooding your head and drowning out clear thoughts. A man is yelling something rather emphatically, over and over, and with a bit of effort you roll onto your back and blink several times as your try to adjust to what the hell just happened.

>Sir
>Miss

“[ ], are you hurt? Can hear me?”, the grey haired man staring down at you questions worriedly, his expression one of clear shock. Another man, just out of your pained field of vision, is yelling for somebody to fetch a doctor. Even in your dazed state you note that your satchel bag is gone, and groggily glance about until you spot it a few yards away. It looks like the contents have spilled all over the road, and the wind is blowing some of them about.

>Insist you’re fine and attempt to stand quickly and gather your things. [DC 70]
>Answer but lay still, moving is a bad idea and just thinking about it hurts. Let them get help.
>Lay still and take a few moments to cast a simple healing charm on yourself. [DC 60]
>Yell for somebody to stop your satchels contents from blowing away! [DC 30]
>Write-in.

Rolls are 1d100, successful rolls are equal to or over the DC and best of three.
>>
Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>3708960
>Miss
>Yell for somebody to stop your satchels contents from blowing away! [DC 30]
Roll over or under?
>>
>>3709013
Roll over or equal to, best of three. Probably could have worded that better originally.
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>3708960
>Miss
>Insist you’re fine and attempt to stand quickly and gather your things. [DC 70]
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>3708960
>>Sir
>Yell for somebody to stop your satchels contents from blowing away! [DC 30]
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>3708960
>Sir
>Insist you’re fine and attempt to stand quickly and gather your things. [DC 70]
Rolling pre-vote-confirm?
>>
>>3708960
>>Miss
>>Insist you’re fine and attempt to stand quickly and gather your things. [DC 70]
>>
>>3709013
>>3709028
>>3709031
>>3709038
>>3709041
Female wins, getting up wins. Roll of 79 is a success. Writing.

>>3709038
I'll definitely ask for rolls after the vote is locked in the future, that is probably a cleaner way to do things. This time I'll just use the first three rolls that were made. Voting period will generally be half an hour or so.
>>
>>3709065
>I'll definitely ask for rolls after the vote is locked in the future, that is probably a cleaner way to do things.
Apologies for the over enthusiastic rolling then qm
>>
Gritting your teeth you reply simply, “I’ll be fine, I think.”, and fight through the pain to bring yourself to a low crouch, arms shaking as you do so. Half soaked and muddy from the puddle you barely manage it, stopping for a second to wipe away some of the blood and muck on the side of your face.

The dapper looking grey haired man is clearly taken aback by your show of resilience, moving to assist you in standing but being a bit too slow in doing so. With a hand gripping on the edge of the slightly dented hood of the car you’ve already brought yourself to an unsteady standing position. Seems like they mustn’t have been going that fast when they hit you, everything aches horribly but you can still support your weight and your head and vision are beginning to clear.

“Miss, please, allow me to assist you. This has all been a terrible accident, it’s the least I could do!”, the older gentleman manages before glancing off down the road. The other man from the car is down the street, judging by his darker hair he looks quite a bit younger but it is hard to tell at this distance as your vision hasn’t fully adjusted. He’s still calling for a doctor for whatever that matters.

The contents of your satchel bag continue to scatter, and you scramble as there probably isn’t much time to save most of it. “My bag, I… I can’t let it blow away!”, you say to yourself more than the old man, staggering toward the satchel and its scattered contents. Kneeling, and almost falling over as you do so, you begin collecting the magical implements and academy papers scattered about the street. They’re waterlogged but still mostly legible, and you hope that won’t be an issue. The man helps you collect your things, even stopping one of your wands before it goes rolling into a drain, but you gather most of it up yourself.

“Miss, are you sure you’re alright? That wound on your forehead looks rather nasty, you should rest for awhile. Arthur is fetching a doctor, and...”, the older man glances down the road once again, “And it looks as if he’s found one, or somebody helpful at least. Here, sit in the car if you would, it will at least keep you out of the rain.”

He opens one of the rear doors of the vehicle’s cabin, the red cushioned bench-like seat inside looks very comfortable. Making sure your satchel is clasped properly this time and clutching to it tightly, you…

>Accept the offer, and rest in the back of the car for a bit.
>Refuse, that horseless carriage has caused enough trouble for you today and you’re starting to feel steadier again anyways.
>Berate the man for hitting you with a car! Apologetic or not you won’t just let that slide.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3709192
>Accept the offer, and rest in the back of the car for a bit.
>>
>>3709192
>Accept the offer, and rest in the back of the car for a bit.
>>
>>3709212
>>3709201
Alright, seems like resting it is then. Writing.
>>
Nodding quickly you accept the man’s offer, and slide into the back seat of the car. The cushioned red seat is as comfortable as it looked, and the interior is gorgeously decorated and quite clean, or at least it was until you entered. Leaving muddy water prints is unavoidable with the state you’re in, but you don’t feel too guilty about it as they did hit you with a car after all.

Laying on your back across the wide rear seat you stare at the interior roof of the car for a bit, just resting and letting your head clear, thinking of little to nothing while the pain subsides. Being out of the rain is nice, nicer than you expected it to be really. The older man doesn’t bother you while you rest, but eventually you do hear him talking with the younger man outside of the car. There’s a third voice, a woman. A healer you soon overhear, shortly before she makes her way to the rear of the car. Sitting up quickly, maybe too quickly, you assume a more conventional position in the seat, and watch as the portly middle aged woman peers in through the open door.

“Hello, miss. I’m Lily, I’m a healer and you’re going to be alright. What’s your name?”, the woman asks in what sounds like a practiced manner, her tone soft and comforting.

One hand is still clutching at the blooding side of your head as you respond…

>Alice.
>Beth.
>Catherine.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3709355
>Catherine.

Interesting setting so far. Shame the OP was messed up.
>>
>>3709363
Thanks. I'm regretting the OP mess up quite a bit, but there isn't much to be done about it now.
>>
>>3709355
>Catherine
>>
“I’m Catherine,” you respond while scooching to the edge of the seat near the open door. The rain is still falling steadily outside, picking up a bit even from the look of it.

“It’s nice to meet you Catherine, can I take a look at your forehead? Looks like you took quite the bump there, dear.”, Lily continues in her practiced manner, opening a small bag and withdrawing a magical focus - a simple smoothed stone, the sort you’d skip over water, but you can feel it abuzz with slight arcane energies. You lean over a bit more, positioning yourself so she can take a look at the wound.

“Oh, now that isn’t so bad. I’ll have it fixed right up, just hold still.”, Lily notes confidently, “You’re an academy student, aren’t you?”. There’s a slight hum as she examines your aura, casting quickly and with little flash.

[1d100 for natural magical aptitude, best of three]

“Hopefully,”, you glance slightly to your water soaked satchel bag, “I was heading there to ap-.”. You wince as she casts a healing charm, the re-knitting of the broken skin on your forehead is painful and itchy for the few moments it lasts. Aches slowly leave your body and your focus returns for good this time.

Lily draws back a bit, tucking the stone back away, “There we go, right as rain!”.

>Thank Lily and depart, the academy awaits and minus a few bad stains you’re alright now.
>Hop out of the car, you’re going to have some choice words with the men that hit you.
>Speak with the men that hit you, but do so civilly.
>Ask Lily if she ever went to the academy, she seems pretty capable.
>Write-in.
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>3709575
>Ask Lily if she ever went to the academy, she seems pretty capable.
Natty
>>
>>3709575
>Hop out of the car, you’re going to have some choice words with the men that hit you.
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>3709575
>>Thank Lily and depart, the academy awaits and minus a few bad stains you’re alright now.

Kinda want to ask if we could get a ride...
>>
>>3709612
That's a perfectly reasonable thing to ask for! Feel free to add detail to options and suggest dialogue. Write-ins don't need to be entirely separate actions.
>>
>>3709626
Putting that on, then.

>Ask if we could get a ride, we're a bit late to the Academy to apply, you see and...
>>
>>3709626
Alright changing to
>Speak with the men that hit you, but do so civilly.
>Ask them for a ride to the Academy as an apology
>>
Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>3709653
>>3709641
Asking for a ride to the academy it is, with a side of talking.

Rolling the last d100 of the three just to get it done.
>>
[Magical aptitude of 93!]

You rub a bit where the wound was a few moments ago and grin as you don’t feel anything painful there anymore, “Thanks, Lily. That helped a lot.”. You lean forward and give her a quick hug, taking care to not dirty her with your rain water and mud soaked robes.

“Anytime dear, it was hardly a bother.”, she chuckles and then turns her head to the two men outside the car and speaks a touch louder, “Just be a bit more cautious on the streets.”

“Of course, of course. Certainly.”, the younger of the two men, Arthur he was called, responds rather quickly. He looks terribly anxious about the entire incident, hands worriedly rubbing together as he stands in the rain. Quite a handsome man really, tall and dark haired… hitting you with a car does take a bit away from it though.

“...And I’ll try to dodge the next carriage”, you joke from within the rear of the car, a bit of casual playfulness returning now that your pain has subsided. The two men give somewhat nervous laughs in response, perhaps fearing litigation.

Lily steps back fully from the car, saying her farewells before departing, “See to that, dear. I’ve got others to attend to though, workmen are always getting hurt from some foolishness, especially in the rain. Best of luck with the academy, Catherine.”

As she departs the two men move closer to the open door, but you speak up before they can, “So do you two run people over often? I’m Catherine.”. You extend a hand, which they both shake in turn. No reason to be rude, they clearly feel terrible already.

“Arthur Duncan, and I’d like to not make a habit of it.”, the younger of the pair responds before turning to the older man, “and this is my business associate...”.

“Sean Dudley,”, the older man finishes, “and I truly am terribly sorry about all of this, Miss Catherine. Is there anything we can do?”.

You cross your arms, “A ride to the academy would be a good start, I’m a bit late you see...”.

“At once!”, Arthur answers with a small clap of his hands, “And more carefully this time, eh Sean? You company’s car isn’t all it's made out to be, or at least the brakes aren’t.”

A slightly gruff, “...Indeed.”, is all the response Arthur gets from him. Arthur shuts the rear door for you, and both of the men enter the front of the car which is apparently still running. Doing… something with some levers, you’re not really sure, Sean coaxes the machine back into motion.

>Ask about Sean’s company, no reason to not make polite conversation and you know very little about cars.
>Duncan is a familiar name for some reason, and the man is obviously wealthy. Ask more about him.
>Just enjoy the strange ride in the car, you’re going to make great time now and all the topics you can think of are awkward considering the circumstances.
>Check just how bad of a condition your satchels contents are in, that might be a serious problem.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3709940
>Check just how bad of a condition your satchels contents are in, that might be a serious problem
>>
>>3709940
>Duncan is a familiar name for some reason, and the man is obviously wealthy. Ask more about him
>>
>>3709940
>Check just how bad of a condition your satchels contents are in, that might be a serious problem
>>
>>3709940
>>Check just how bad of a condition your satchels contents are in, that might be a serious problem.
and then
>Ask about Sean’s company, no reason to not make polite conversation and you know very little about cars.

if we can.
>>
>>3709940
>Check just how bad of a condition your satchels contents are in, that might be a serious problem.
>Duncan is a familiar name for some reason, and the man is obviously wealthy. Ask more about him.
>>
>>3709994
+1
>>
As the large car steadily rumbles its way down the rain slick side streets of Homeport you check over the contents of your satchel, items that will make or break your future in the hours to come. Things seem gloomy from the start. Quick action after you were hit saved anything from blowing off in the wind but many of the academy papers are almost entirely illegible now, only vaguely recognizable as the forms they used to be. You sigh loudly, looking over what remains of them and run a hand through your hair as you take stock of the situation, sorting the papers into a few groups on the large rear seat. Lightly or undamaged, legible but messy, and write offs.

“Everything alright back there?”, Arthur asks, looking over the rear of the front seat-bench-thing of the car.

Shuffling a few papers from one pile to another on the rear seat you respond with a clear touch of annoyance, “Its my academy application papers, a lot of them are ruined.”, you shake your head as you look at them, “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”.

He turns a bit more, resting an arm across the top of the front seats as he gets a clearer look, “Oh. I, uh, I see. That’s pretty bad. They’ll have spares on hand surely, won’t they?”.

“I hope so.”, you grumble. He shrugs apologetically and turns back to watch the road, some obstacle Sean is driving around catching his attention for the moment.

The letters of recommendation are the most obvious and pressing issue, they’re totally ruined and little is left other than the magical seals on the envelopes. Maybe the academy can clean them up, somebody has to be capable of something like that. You ponder trying to clean up the letters yourself, risk a bit of improvised housekeeping magic. Couldn’t get much worse than this anyways, right?

The actual magical implements are all fine at least, the wood wands shouldn’t warp from such little water and the focus stones are… well they’re rocks, not much to worry about with that. Books are mostly fine too, leather cases doing a lot to protect them. Regret at not protecting the forms and letters equally well slowly sets in though, a dull sinking dread.

Taking your thoughts away from your personal disaster of a day for a moment you speak with Arthur, starting up with little warning, “Arthur Duncan, right?”.

“What? Oh, yes, that’s correct. Why?”, he asks quizzically while turning back to you.

The look he gives you makes you feel a bit silly but you ask anyways, “Your name sounds really familiar for some reason, what do you do?”.
>>
>>3710333
Arthur seems perplexed for a moment before explaining, looking as if you just wandered out of a portal from some other world. “Duncan Steelworks. Father owns most of the dockyards, but I try to make my own way, hence Mr. Dudley here. His automobile business is quite something...”, he carries on for a while, talking about their business venture, but you don’t hear much of it as you begin screaming at yourself internally.

“Oh.”, is all you can manage outwardly for a moment. Of course the name sounded familiar - It was emblazoned all over the ship you steamed in on!

>Try to carry on the conversation normally, ask more about what they do.
>Bring the conversation to a quick end, these aren’t people you want to associate with.
>Attempt to clean up the worst of the papers and letters with some improvised magic. [DC 50]
>Ask if they’ll help with the academy if the papers are an issue.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3710335
>Attempt to clean up the worst of the papers and letters with some improvised magic. [DC 50]
>>
>>3710335
>Attempt to clean up the worst of the papers and letters with some improvised magic. [DC 50]
>Try to carry on the conversation normally, ask more about what they do.
They sound like people we should associate with actually
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>3710354
>>
>>3710376
>>3710354
Attempt to clean up the papers with magic wins, just need two more rolls. Next post will be tomorrow, going to sleep for now.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>3710376
+1
>>
Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>3710413
We can cast just a basic restoration cantrip, can't we? That 93 should mean something...
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>3710413
>>
While Arthur continues speaking, seemingly more than happy to talk about himself and his businesses and Dudley’s ‘flying machines’, you turn back to your papers and decide to try your hand at cleaning them up yourself. Improvising magic is a very risky business for most, especially when attempting something for the first time, and can often end in unexpected and unpleasant results - but you’ve always had a knack for it, at least compared to the tiny number of other mages you’ve known. And it’s just cleaning some papers, what’s really the worst that could happen?

Taking one of the focuses in hand you clear your mind, and extend your power into the smoothed stone, setting it lightly aglow and sparking with arcane energies. A few motes of blue mana swirl about, darting in and out of the stone as you move it in slow circles over a nastily soaked and dirtied paper you choose to test the magic on first.

You picture the way the form was meant to be, muddy stains removed, ink print clear and legible, the paper crisp and dry, a return to the form it had been before. With a careful effort you will this clear image in your mind’s eye to be so, motes of energy dancing about the paper. The restoration begins at once, just as you had pictured it, dirt and water separating themselves from the paper and collecting in tiny floating orbs while the forms text slowly grows crisper and the paper straightens back to its proper shape.

A tiny, “Yes!”, is all the celebration you let out for now, and you set to work fixing the other papers in the same way, the little floating orbs of dirt and water slowly growing until you’ve finished.

Arthur stopped talking at some point and watches with great interest as you restore the last of the papers, “...from your tone earlier I’d thought you didn’t know that sort of magic.”.

“I didn’t, but I made due.”, you answer simply while looking about for a place to dump the waste orbs of dirt and water - they’re very small but casting them off in the rear of the car, even with as much as you’ve dirtied it, seems rather rude.

“Oh, well in that case that was quite the display then!”, he responds while curiously watching the floating orbs before pointing at something next to you, “The rear quarter window can open.”.
>>
>>3711097

“Huh?”, you question for half a moment, looking about until you see a small latch on part of the window. With a second of fiddling you’re able to undo it, opening it slightly, and you will the tiny orbs out into the street where they quickly land among the falling rain. From the signs on the buildings outside and their nicer exteriors you suspect you’re getting close to the academy.

>Ask about his business, you missed a lot of that. ‘Flying machines’?
>Ask what he knows about magic, most non-mages are clueless but he seems to understand a bit.
>Double, and then triple check the papers. No risking this, it’s too important.
>Use one of your mirrors and try to clean yourself and the rear of the car up a bit, it's a little different but you’re getting the hang of it quickly. [DC 30].
>Write-in.
>>
>>3711098
>Use one of your mirrors and try to clean yourself and the rear of the car up a bit, it's a little different but you’re getting the hang of it quickly. [DC 30].>>3711098
>>
Going to give the vote a bit longer than usual since its a an odd time of day.
>>
>>3711098
>Use one of your mirrors and try to clean yourself and the rear of the car up a bit, it's a little different but you’re getting the hang of it quickly. [DC 30].
>Ask about his business, you missed a lot of that. ‘Flying machines’?
Surely we can multitask at least a bit
>>
>>3711188
You can definitely multitask a bit, normal issues of splitting focus apply though - likely neither option will be done quite as well as if it had your full attention, and with the car ride coming to an end you've got limited time. If you just want to listen while casting that isn't too difficult.
>>
>>3711098
>>Ask about his business, you missed a lot of that. ‘Flying machines’?
>>
>>3711271
>>3711188
>>3711115
Going to go with the combination option, need the rolls though. That break lasted much longer than I thought it would, sorry about that.
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>3711327
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>3711327
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>3711327
>>
In the slight reflection of the window you can see how ragged you appearance is currently, bits of dried mud and blood across your face, short blond hair stained with dried flecks. Looking like a dirty vagabond when you arrive at the academy doesn’t appeal to you, so with the help of a small mirror withdrawn from your satchel you set about cleaning yourself up. It’s careful work, but with the warm-up of cleaning the papers it isn’t too difficult. Figuring you must have missed something interesting you speak with Arthur while you tidy up, “You mentioned something about ‘flying machines’? I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch all of it.”.

“Ah, of course, spell work does take some focus, doesn’t it?”, he answers quickly before continuing with quite some enthusiasm a bit of explanatory gesticulation, “They’re heavier than air contraptions, not at all like those bulbous dirigibles the navy uses, real engineering marvels of our age. It’s mostly been Sean’s work, he’s been at it for decades now you see, but together our companies have gotten a few of them actually flying. They’re, uh, sort of winged things, like a bird, but instead of flapping they pull themselves through the air with a propeller powered by an automobile engine.”

“Propellers? Like on a ship?”, you inquire, using your glowing focus stone to clean a bit of your cloak as you do so. Some of the dirt and stains on the seat get your attention for a moment and you clean them up as well, the orbs of dirt and water collecting in the air notably larger than what you pulled from the paper - a much smaller orb of dried blood floats alongside them. With a quick flick of willpower you send them out the still slightly open window.

Arthur nods, “A similar idea, but they’re a bit different in how they work. Are you familiar with the mechanics of flight? I never did ask what your focus as a mage is.”

You continue cleaning up as you answer.

>I’m a little familiar, on my home island we had an enchanted kite you can ride the updrafts on with the right air charms.
>I haven’t really dabbled with flight, I’m more of a summoner. Tried to avoid calling up things that fly, hard to catch them if they break loose.
>Most of what I know came out of civilian defense training the militia put on a few times, healing and basic missiles mostly.
>I, uh, don’t really have much of a focus yet. Mostly just winged things so far, teaching was limited back home.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3711441
>I’m a little familiar, on my home island we had an enchanted kite you can ride the updrafts on with the right air charms.
>>
>>3711441
>I’m a little familiar, on my home island we had an enchanted kite you can ride the updrafts on with the right air charms.
>>
>>3711441
>I’m a little familiar, on my home island we had an enchanted kite you can ride the updrafts on with the right air charms.
>>
>>3711441
>I, uh, don’t really have much of a focus yet. Mostly just winged things so far, teaching was limited back home.
Talented, but no specialty and has to wing things on the fly constantly.
>>
>>3711441
>I studied birds for a while trying to make working wings for myself, it worked as well as for everyone else that tried but still
>>
>>3711528
>>3711471
>>3711460
Kite wins, writing.

>>3711574
Actually a pretty neat idea.
>>
“I’m a little familiar, on my home island we had an enchanted kite you can ride the updrafts on with the right air charms.”, you answer truthfully. Flying wasn’t exactly a safe hobby but it was very exciting, definitely beat the alternative of farming, chores, and then more farming and chores.

He looks at you carefully for a moment, sizing you up, “...Impressive, that’s rather dangerous work as I hear.”

“Yeah, had my share of bad landings to prove it too, but I stuck with it for a couple of years. Got pretty decent at air magic.”, setting aside your focus stone you feel at where you broke your left arm two years ago, “So are your flying machines safer or something?”.

“Eh, not currently, they’re still a bit haphazard… Say, Sean, do you still have that photograph of the first flyer?”

“Aye, never go without it.”, the older man responds, pulling something from a vest pocket while still watching the road carefully. He hands the photograph to Arthur, who admires it for a moment before passing it on to you.

“It’s a bit more complex than a kite, but I think you’ll get the gist of most of how it works.”.

The photo is in color which is a bit of a shock, but in only a few garish tones, and the bizarre contraption displayed in it isn’t like anything you’ve seen. It’s all thin struts and wires and canvas, a multi-leveled multi-winged thing that only in the vaguest sense resembles a bird. Standing next to it are clearly Sean and Arthur in what looks like winter clothes, another man dressed similarly but with a padded cap of some kind, as well as a few men in mechanics coveralls. The propeller Arthur described is clearly visible and the engine, or at least you think it’s the engine, is set behind it. An odd machine, but it does have a certain sense to it from what you can see.

“That thing can fly? Does it need a mage?”, you ask, noting the emblem on the third man’s coat while studying the photo carefully between cleaning up a few remaining bits of grime.

“The pilots have all been mages so far, for safety reasons, but we’ve minimized the use of magic to almost nothing now - it flies entirely under its own power. The goal is to let anybody fly eventually, no magic required. That one there is an older model, from a couple of years ago, it couldn’t stay up for more than a minute or so.”

“Newest one is up to two hours!”, Sean chimes in with a bit of cheer as he begins to slow the car. Your view is a bit obstructed but the academy’s massive outer wall is now clearly visible out of the front of the car, and it’s clear you’ve almost arrived.

“In good weather. We’ve been making great progress, shame the papers hardly run the story.”, Arthur clarifies, taking the photo back after you’ve had a while to look it over. The car comes to a complete stop as it pulls along the side of the street outside the academy’s outer wall.
>>
>>3711715
>Ask if those mages were flyers too before they tested the machines. Are they academy trained?
>...Anybody can fly? There’s a thought. Are you making more of these things?
>Continue the conversation in some other way. (I’ll take suggestions)
>Get your things together, say your farewells, and depart. No time to waste!
>Write-in.
>>
>>3711718
>>Ask if those mages were flyers too before they tested the machines. Are they academy trained?
>>
>>3711718
>Ask if there's any way you could help with this project
>>
>>3711718
>Ask if those mages were flyers too before they tested the machines. Are they academy trained?
Finally
>Ask if there's any way you could help with this project
>>
>>3711752
+1
>>
>>3711788
>>3711747
>>3711738
>>3711752
Alright, locked in with a mix of conversation.
>>
The car ride got you to the academy far faster than you otherwise could have managed, even without the accident, and you see little point in rushing out and cutting this conversation short - It’s just beginning to get interesting. For having been hit by a car, things have turned out very well indeed. Outside the car the rain has died down a bit as the weather is beginning to clear.

“The mages flying these machines, these pilots you called them, were they flyers beforehand?”, you inquire, now finished with cleaning up and turning your full attention to Arthur.

He nods, “They were, out of the initial group of test pilots they had the best sense of how to handle it. At the very start knowing how to handle a crash or bail out was important, and they had the most experience. A lot of that is behind us now with the newer models.”

“Mostly behind us,”, Sean adds a bit grimly as he turns to look at you now that the car is parked, “spins are still a bad problem. We’re making progress though.”

“The occasional crash isn’t so bad really, it’s mostly the first one that terrifies you. Sort of, uh, get used to it after awhile.”, you half jokingly comment, knowing from painful experience that every flyer is bound to crash eventually and generally do so quite a lot early on. Using a spell to cushion your fall was all there was to it with the kite, you just tried to avoid the nastier looking trees and rocks when you came down.

The older man chuckles at that, “You’re built of tough stuff then, Miss. Explains a lot.”.

You push from some more detail, “So these pilots, they’re academy trained?”.

“Mmm? Oh, yes, most of them.”, Arthur answers, “We only take the best, a few were freelancers though. Very capable.”

“Looking for anymore?”, you ask hopefully. The kite is all the way back across the ocean, and you miss flying.

“Interested? Didn’t think a car accident would yield a new pilot, but the world is often full of strange coincidences. We’ve got all of our piloting needs filled currently, but...”, Arthur turns and opens the glove compartment, pulling out a small silver pendant before handing it to you, “This is an emblem of favor for our company, by the time you’ve gotten some more training we’ll likely have need of additional pilots and you seem rather resilient and capable as a mage. It’ll get you to the front of the line for the job, so to speak, assuming you do well with your studies.”

You take the pendant, looking it over, it’s engraved with the same emblem the pilot in the photograph had on his coat - A more stylized variant of the Duncan Steelworks lion.

“...I’ll definitely keep the offer in mind, sounds like exciting work.”

>Keep talking, you have more to ask. (Suggest it)
>Say your farewells and depart, the academy gates await!
>Write-in.
>>
>>3711986
>Say your farewells and depart, the academy gates await!
>>
>>3711986
>>Say your farewells and depart, the academy gates await!
>>
>>3711986
>Say your farewells and depart, the academy gates await!
>>
>>3712028
>>3712022
>>3711997
Locked in.
>>
Farewells are exchanged as you get all of your things together and prepare to exit the car, and you receive a final apology from Sean who promises to drive more carefully in the future. You open the car door, pull your hood up, and step back out into the rain taking just a moment to close the door. The rain is hardly a drizzle now, and will probably let up entirely soon, but if all goes well you'll be inside by then.

The car pulls away behind you as you look over your surroundings, the absolutely massive grey ashlar outer wall of the academy stretching high above you. This close to the wall the academy’s central pyramid isn’t visible anymore, but you know that it’s far larger, easily the tallest building in Homeport. Everything about this area of Homeport is ancient, from the residences and shops surrounding the outer wall of the academy to the paths that run between them - much of it constructed and maintained for, as you’ve heard it at least, the better part of two thousand years.

Looking to your left down the stone path running next to the wall you can see the angular protrusion of one of the entrance gatehouses. With a quick stride you head toward it, knowing that should be where you need to go. It doesn’t take long to get to the gatehouse, but you find the great black iron gates shut and a smaller arched side entrance open instead. The reinforced wooden door of the smaller entrance opens without resistance, and you push inside and out of the rain.

Lowering your hood you take a look around, observing a waiting area of some sort and a few people dressed similarly to you sitting within it. The floors are cleanly cut stone, subtle paths worn into them from many years of light foot traffic, and a few simple wooden benches line the walls. A few paintings adorn the walls as well, all looking somewhat modern and depicting pleasant scenes of nature. A trio of cutouts in the stone dominate the wall to your left, and they house odd looking transaction windows and small counters that remind you a bit of your home island’s small bank. Two of the three are closed, but the third seems to have somebody behind it. Carved into the stone above it is the world “Applicants”.

You’re busy retrieving your papers from your satchel as you approach the window, and when you look up you almost jump a bit in fright. The clerk behind the window isn’t human, but instead some sort of winged frog-like humanoid creature, a squat and short scaley-skinned fellow wearing a large pair of spectacles and sitting atop a tall stool. His, you think it’s a he at least, large yellow eyes stare at you expectantly and he points a small clawed hand to your papers.

>Introduce yourself and hand over your application forms.
>Just hand over your forms, no need to talk.
>Try to make some small talk, you’ve never met a… thing, like this. Is it a spirit?
>Write-in.
>>
>>3712208
>Introduce yourself and hand over your application forms.
>>
>>3712208
>Introduce yourself and hand over your application forms.
>>
>>3712208
>Just hand over your forms, no need to talk.
>>
>>3712208
>Just hand over your forms, no need to talk
>>
>>3712208
>>Introduce yourself and hand over your application forms.
Spooky froggy
>>
Rolled 16, 20 = 36 (2d100)

>>3712289
>>3712254
>>3712244
Locked in.
>>
>>3712208
>Just hand over your forms
>>
>>3712320
That uh, doesn't look good
>>
>>3712328
Says guy that decided to give our name to outwardly creature
>>
>>3712333
It's going to see our application forms you know. Pretty sure it'll figure out our name regardless.
>>
While sliding the forms to the small winged frog-man through the transaction window you introduced yourself, attempting to stay polite despite the small scare, “Hi. I’m Catherine, I’m here to apply for the academy.”.

The creature quickly snatches up the forms as they slide through, separating them into piles quickly with only a brief glance at each while speaking rapidly in a raspy voice, “Oh! A talker, good, I love talkers. Didn’t even yelp. Very nice to meet you, Miss. I’m Karga. Hand.”.

“...Hand?”, you ask, eyes widening a bit as the fat little frog-man pulls a needle and small patch of white cloth from a drawer in the office on his side of the window.

“Yes, hand. Give it over, that thing. Need your blood for the application, tester is at breakfast still.”, he points to your hand and you can’t help but notice the rows of pointed teeth in his unsettlingly wide mouth as he smiles at you.

>Give him you hand.
>...The blood is for a test?
>There’s somebody else who does this normally?
>Write-in.
>>
>>3712360
>There’s somebody else who does this normally?
>Give him you hand.
We are in industrial era city and not Sith temple, no need to be overly cautious
>>
>>3712360
>There’s somebody else who does this normally?
>>
>>3712360
>There’s somebody else who does this normally?
>>
“There’s somebody else who does this normally?”, you ask, hesitating for a moment as you watch the odd creature continue to point at your hand with the needle.

“Mhm. Eats slow. Long time until he’s here.”, Karga twists his body pudgy body atop the stool and adjusts his spectacles as he looks at a grandfather clock on the far side of the office, “Hour at least. Very slow. Hand. Give it here.”

Glancing at the rest of the waiting room you see a pair of what must be other applicants, a young man and woman sitting on one of the benches and giving you sympathetic looks. The man is shaking his head, as if to say "don't do it".

“No, no, don’t look at them. They picked waiting. Very slow! Slows down the whole day. Hand, please.”, Karga insists, beginning to sound more annoyed.

>Slide your hand over for whatever unpleasantness this is, making the admissions frog-man mad seems like a bad idea.
>Wait for the other 'tester' to show up, you aren’t comfortable with this.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3712425
>Wait for the other 'tester' to show up, you aren’t comfortable with this.
I too will pick waiting
>>
>>3712425
>Wait for the other 'tester' to show up, you aren’t comfortable with this.
Waiting doesn't sound so bad now.
>>
>>3712425
>Wait for the other 'tester' to show up, you aren’t comfortable with this.
>>
“I think I’ll wait too actually, if that’s alright”, you say, backing up just a bit further from the window.

Karga looks quite miffed, huge yellow eyes narrowing as he grumbles at you, “Bah! Fine. Have it your way. Wait for the slow poke.”. He puts away the needle and cloth, and moves your forms carefully over to the side of his work area and out of the way.

Turning back to the room you realize what you’ve done so far today and groan a bit at it. Got hit by a car rushing to get here early and now you’re going to wait around for who knows how long for a less creepy clerk to show up. You shake your head at it all, and move to find a place to sit and wait.

>Sit near the other applicants and find something to talk about. Do they know something about Karga you don’t?
>Sit alone and read one of your books, it’s an easy way to pass the time.
>Sit alone and practice levitating some of your focus stones with small gusts of air. Just a bit of practice while you wait, there’s a small skill examination upon entry from what you’ve heard in the past.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3712483
>>Sit near the other applicants and find something to talk about. Do they know something about Karga you don’t?
>So what's so wrong with letting him poke us?
>>
>>3712483
>Sit near the other applicants and find something to talk about. Do they know something about Karga you don’t?
>So what's so wrong with letting him poke us?
>>
>>3712483
>Sit alone and practice levitating some of your focus stones with small gusts of air. Just a bit of practice while you wait, there’s a small skill examination upon entry from what you’ve heard in the past
>>3712490
I think we're supposed to be a human supremacist
>>
>>3712483
>Sit alone and read one of your books, it’s an easy way to pass the time.
>>
Taking a seat next to the other two applicants on one of the benches you strike up a conversation about the weird frog-man, “So what’s wrong exactly with letting him poke us?”

“He’s a coal imp, they’ve got a nasty habit of biting off fingers if you give them the chance.”, the man answers matter-of-factly, “Not sure how they got one to do paperwork but I just don’t trust it.”.

“I’ve seen them take a whole hand off a sailor before. Needles just a power test I think though, no harm in that.”, the woman adds in a soft voice, sitting at a bit of an angle on the bench to see you past the man.

From their demeanor you’d expected something horrible like that, but it's still weird to hear, “Oh. Woah. You think he’d do that? I’m Catherine, by the way.”.

The man shakes your hand, his look quite serious, “Frederick. And yeah, I think it would. It was eyeing my hand up the way a starving cat watches a bird, which is weird because that's the fattest imp I’ve ever seen.”

The woman leans over to shake your hand, introducing herself with a simple, “Lisa.”.

“...And they’d let it work in an office? Sounds like a beast, not an office worker.”, you comment incredulously.

“Baffled me too. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe they’ve got it trained and bound too well to attack, but risking my hand or just waiting an hour? I’ll take the wait.”

“Definitely take the wait.”, Lisa repeats. You get the impression they’re siblings, their freckled pale complexions and red hair matching up pretty well.

“So you both know about imps? Are you summoners?”, you ask, moving your satchel to a more comfortable spot at your side on the bench as you adjust your position a bit.

“We are, yeah. Grew up dealing with the blasted things on colliers down at the docks, they’d hide in the holds and everybody pushed off dealing with them to us. When we came into our magic they just expected us to work harder at it.”, he wiggles his fingers a bit, “Managed to avoid losing anything so far, don’t plan on starting today.”. Lisa raises her left hand as well, revealing a stump where the little finger should be.

“Not quite as lucky.”, she says a bit sadly.

>Talk about your own past a bit, it hasn’t exactly been great either.
>Ask more about them, they both seem nice and summoning isn’t something you know much about.
>Go finish your application with Karga, these people just seem overly suspicious of him.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3712659
>Ask more about them, they both seem nice and summoning isn’t something you know much about.
>>
>>3712659
>Ask more about them, they both seem nice and summoning isn’t something you know much about.
>>
>>3712659
>Ask more about them, they both seem nice and summoning isn’t something you know much about.
>>
>>3712659
>Ask more about them, they both seem nice and summoning isn’t something you know much about.
>>
>>3712659
>>Talk about your own past a bit, it hasn’t exactly been great either.
Quid pro quo, of a sort.

Also, ouch for Lisa.
>>
>>3712690
We'll be able to heal her. Hopefully.
>>
>>3712692
I doubt it. It seems like it's an old, old wound. Usually there's some sort of time limit to restoration stuff like that. Best we could probably do is some kind of magical prosthetic. I do agree with the general 'help her somehow' sentiment, though. If only for our own educational purposes.
>>
>>3712699
We could always transport her soul into a new body
>>
>>3712665
>>3712673
>>3712677
>>3712685
Locked in.

>>3712705
Bit of an extreme measure, isn't that?
>>
>>3712699
Cut off hand -> grow new hand
>>
>>3712756
Good idea
>>3712748
We could use magic to make a body identical to hers other than the finger. This wouldn't be very extreme, would it?
>>
>>3712772
Yes. Yes, it would.

>>3712756
As well as this.
>>
Holy shit guys
Just make controlled cancer growth in place of stump and sculpt it into a finger
Or even just stick a piece of metal into it and have her posses it with her ghost finger
No need to remove anything
>>
>>3712787
>Just make controlled cancer growth in place of stump and sculpt it into a finger
Now we're cooking with grease.
We could always take a finger from someone else and sew it on, do a little bit of magic to make it useable.
Isn't that what people already do with their toes nowadays?
>>
“Ouch.”, you wince a bit as you see the stump. It looks like it's probably a very old wound. Lisa moves her left hand back out of sight, but doesn’t seem put off by your reaction.

“Ah, it’s not so bad, lesson I won’t forget. Still got all the others.”, she gives a weak smile, “And I hear they can replace them here anyways, neat little stone… Uh, what were they called?”

“Prosthetics?”, you offer out, hoping you’re correct. One of the militia men back home that used to be in the navy had a moving stone arm, did something heroic in the last big invasion apparently. You never knew him well though, just heard the story around town.

Lisa nods, “That's it, yes. They make them unique, little carved stone statues that look like the original, it’s a sort of binding ritual or something. Spirit moves it around.”.

Interesting, that wasn’t how you’d expected that to work, “That’s actually kinda neat. You both probably know a lot about binding as summoners, right?”

They shake their heads and Frederick explains, “Eh, not too much really, we did more banishing than anything. Got really good at it, even without much power.”.

Lisa repeats the sentiment about banishing before carrying on, moving the subject to you, “You’re from one of the colonies, aren’t you Catherine? Accents odd. Not that I mean anything bad by it, it sounds nice.”.

“I’m from Cape Laka, yeah, and thanks I guess. By your story I take it you’re both from Homeport?”

“Born and raised.”, Frederick answers proudly.

>Talk about your own past a bit.
>Ask more about Homeport.
>Really good at banishing? Sounds like rough work.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3712862
>Talk about your own past a bit.
More because I'd like to hear about Catherine's past than anything else.
>>
>>3712862
>>Talk about your own past a bit.
>>
>>3712862
>Prosthetics
Boring
>Talk about your own past a bit.
Knowing who we are would be useful
>>
>>3712862
>Ask more about Homeport.
>>
>>3712862
>>Talk about your own past a bit.
>>
“Is Laka nice?”, Lisa asks sounding a bit more cheery, “We’ve cleared imps out of a few ships that headed southways, some probably ended up there.”.

“It’s alright, a lot warmer than here but there isn’t much to do. Sort of a farming town latched onto the side of a big navy station if you can picture it. Streets aren’t nearly as busy either, can hardly get around here without being run over…”, you trail off for a moment, thinking of the odd car ride to the academy and you check to make sure your satchel is still next to you on the bench. It is of course, and the rest of the waiting room is still very empty aside from the three of you. Karga continues glaring at you from the window, grumbling to himself.

“You grew up on a farm?”, Frederick asks, “Airs a lot cleaner out there, isn’t it? A lot of sailors talk about how clean most of the colonies are.”

“Yeah, really big farm outside of town proper. Lots of fresh air, chores, and not much else. It’s state run, the navy set it up after the last really big invasion to help take care of all the orphans.”

“Oh, so you’re an…”, Lisa starts sadly. She seems like a sweet person, it’s hard to imagine her fighting an imp in some cargo hold.

You finish the unpleasant thought for her, “Orphan, yeah. Most of us never knew our parents so it was more like a giant family, caretakers were real taskmasters though. Navy discipline wasn’t uncommon, but I think they meant well. Don’t mess up twice after a good lashing anyways.”

>”Things got a lot worse after the raid though, the black ships didn’t leave for a whole week.”
>”Things got a lot worse after the cyclone though, whole town was almost leveled.”
>”Things got a lot worse after the mutiny though, the natives… Well, it wasn’t pleasant.”
>Write-in.
>>
>>3713093
>”Things got a lot worse after the mutiny though, the natives… Well, it wasn’t pleasant.”
>>
>>3713093
>>”Things got a lot worse after the cyclone though, whole town was almost leveled.”

>Hell if the rebuilding didn't bind us together like nothing else, though. Not to mention everyone what could walk on two feet got to know woodcraft at least a bit.
>>
>>3713093
>”Things got a lot worse after the raid though, the black ships didn’t leave for a whole week.”
>>
>>3713093
>”Things got a lot worse after the Fire Nation attacked though, their constant nagging for avatar was infuriating.”
More seriously
>”Things got a lot worse after the mutiny though, the natives… Well, it wasn’t pleasant.”
>>
>>3713093
>”Things got a lot worse after the mutiny though, the natives… Well, it wasn’t pleasant.”
>>
>>3713093
>>”Things got a lot worse after the raid though, the black ships didn’t leave for a whole week.”
>>
>>3713093
>”Things got a lot worse after the mutiny though, the natives… Well, it wasn’t pleasant.”
>>
>>3713104
>>3713137
>>3713143
>>3713154
Locked in, next story post will be the last for the night.

>>3713137
Pffff. You've got air magic, a hell of a magic aptitude, and had a kite you could fly on. I don't think the fire nation would have to look for long.
>>
>>3713169
Guess learning fire magic will be a pain. Good thing healing is usually water magic.
>>
>>3713169
The previous post mentions lashing and I wonder if we've been lashed before.
>>
“Things got a lot worse after mutiny though, the natives… Well, it wasn’t pleasant.”

It’s always a little weird to talk about the mutiny with somebody that wasn’t there or in another colony, but you carry on nonetheless. Won’t be the last time you have to speak about it, and talking has always helped some. Makes it a bit easier to deal with.

Frederick looks horrified, “God, I hadn’t realized Laka was part of that. I’m not, uh, not great with geography. Heard it was really rough in a lot of the colonies though, can scarcely imagine it.”

“It was. Navy base took the worst of it in the first few days and went up in flames, they had a couple transports of auxiliaries there when it started and it didn’t take long for them to join the rebels. Had to hole up in the farmhouse with the other for a few weeks before the relief column arrived from the north.”

“But you all made it through intact, right?”, Lily asks, looking just as shocked as her brother.

You continue your grim tale, “Most of us, seemed like it wouldn’t ever end though. Mutineers took a few goes at the farmhouse and bombarded it a few times, but we still had access to a well, and kept them past the outer wall with…”

>A lot of hunting rifles and a militia machinegun, which we put to good use.
>The help of some soldiers that holed up with us after the fighting started.
>Creative use of air magic and a lot of lamp oil and matches.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3713234
>A lot of hunting rifles and a militia machinegun, which we put to good use.
>>
>>3713234
>Creative use of air magic and a lot of lamp oil and matches
>>
>>3713234
>The help of some soldiers that holed up with us after the fighting started
Gib Army exp
>>
>>3713234
>>Creative use of air magic and a lot of lamp oil and matches.

We are not the most powerful magic user around, but we are TRICKY AS FUCK.
>>
>>3713272
Why not both?
>>
>>3713234
>A lot of hunting rifles and a militia machinegun, which we put to good use.
>>
>>3713234
>Creative use of air magic and a lot of lamp oil and matches.
So we are mage that likes to fly and uses copious amounts of fire
I hope we will get close to some alchemist that can create napalm so we can recreate Vietnam
>>
>A lot of hunting rifles and a militia machinegun, which we put to good use.
We gun wizard.
>>
>>3713234
>The help of some soldiers that holed up with us after the fighting started.
>>
>>3713246
>>3713255
>>3713272
>>3713559
>>3713600
>>3713677
Going to combine the two options a bit.

>>3713234
“...our hunting rifles and a machinegun the militia stored at the farm. Everybody did their bit with what we had, and we were lucky enough to catch the rebels off guard with some magic at the end when things were looking bleak. Firestorms scared off their last few pushes.”, you continue, adding a bit of emphasis to the last bit. The siege isn’t a pleasant memory but you’re proud of how you handled yourself.

“Firestorms?” they both ask, attention focused entirely on you. Karga seems to be listening too from across the room, leaning close to the window to hear more clearly.

“Air magic and a lot of lamp oil,'' you explain,“add a few matches and you don’t even need a pyromancer. I knew the winds well enough from flying to make a big storm out of it past the wall. Took a, uh, few attempts though. First couple of times it didn’t really take off. It was mostly just a fear thing though, more flash than substance, but they never tried to push through it. Rifles did most of the real work. By the time we’d run out of oil the army had arrived and cleaned things up.”

Frederick looks very impressed, “Wow. So was that magic all just you? I haven't ever heard of somebody doing something like that with air magic.”

Shaking your head you clarify a bit, “Me and two others, they were flyers too. I had the longest section of the wall to guard of the three of us though.”

“...Can we read your aura?”, Lisa questions, probably wanting to get a sense of your ability.

>Go ahead, it might look a bit off though. Had some healing done earlier.
>Sure, if I can read both of yours too.
>I’d prefer you didn’t. Thanks for asking first though, a lot of people don’t.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3713787
>>Sure, if I can read both of yours too
>>
>>3713787
>Go ahead, it might look a bit off though. Had some healing done earlier.
>>
>>3713787
>Sure, if I can read both of yours too.
>>
>>3713787
>>Sure, if I can read both of yours too.
>>
>>3713787
Also explain that it might seems off because of healing. We don't want them to run to us with false idea that we can heal them
>>
“Sure, if I can read both of yours too. Mine might be a bit off though, had some healing done earlier.”, you answer, interested to see their power for yourself as well. They mentioned being relatively weak earlier, but if they’re applying to the academy it probably isn’t that bad.

The pair exchange a quick look and a nod, and Frederick shrugs while speaking for them both, “Fair’s fair.”

The siblings adjust the sleeves of their robes and hold one another's hand, a slight hum barely audible in the air as they raise their entwined hands and extend their senses. The read isn’t quite as quick or subtle as the one Lily did earlier, and you can feel it pulling faintly at the edges of your perception. After a few moments they lower their hands and the sensation fades.

They stay silent for a moment while you read them in turn, the faint nimbus of energy around each of them becoming clear as you extend your hand and focus. Their auras aren’t very bright, not much more than wispy trails of energy wavering around them, but the pale blue motes of mana swirling about them make their magic clear enough to see. With a slight surprise you note that the glow of the motes grows much more intense in the slight gap between the pair, which is something you haven’t ever seen before.

You don’t have much experience with healing but neither seems to be in poor health, sans the odd gap in Lisa’s aura where her missing finger should be - the vague outline of a finger is still there, glowing faintly. Altogether they seem to have told the truth about being fairly weak mages, but the interaction between their auras was interesting. Lowering your hand you end the reading.

“You both work better together, don’t you? I haven’t seen anything like that before.” you ask, breaking the small silence that had settled in the waiting room.

Frederick answers first, but Lisa had started as well before falling quiet, “We can sort of... multiply our ability, if we stay close together. I know we’re probably not strong enough for the academy alone but we’re hoping they’ll let us in as a pair.”

“Do they do that?”, you question with a bit of surprise, having never heard of the practice.

Lisa is the quicker of the two this time, “It’s been awhile since they have, or at least the mage we spoke with said so, but he didn’t see why they wouldn't still allow it. I hope they will, we’ve been looking forward to this for a long time now.”

A muffled thud and some slight clattering is heard faintly from the office behind the transaction windows on the far wall, and the little frog-man imp isn’t visible anymore behind his window.

>Ask what they plan to focus their studies on. More summoning?
>Ask about how their power intensifies, that’s something you’d never even heard of before.
>Ask about something else. (suggest it)
>Check what that sound from the office is, is the ‘tester’ here?
>Write-in.
>>
>>3713892
>Ask what they plan to focus their studies on. More summoning?
One more conversation and check on tester
>>
>>3713892
>Ask about how their power intensifies, that’s something you’d never even heard of before.
Let's replicate it using only ourselves if it's possible
>>
>>3714033
>>3713910
I'm going to give it awhile since its a slow time of day and I've got some stuff to do. I do need some sort of consensus though.
>>
>>3714083
If it's a tie you can roll a dice
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>3714108
Eh, sure, why not. 1 is asking about their studies, 2 is power stuff.
>>
The three of you look up in the direction of the noise coming from the office, but for now nobody moves to check it out further. Not wanting the conversation to stagnate after the slight interruption you ask, “So what are you going to focus your studies on, more summoning?”

Frederick explains their plan, still glancing every so often to the office, “That’s the basic idea at least, just train with one of the summoning instructors until we’re qualified for bigger work than imps. There’s a lot of demand for it these days, shipyards as busy as they are, and we’ve already got banishment down pat so that’s a leg up over the competition.”

“Pretty much a third done already! Just need to get a handle on conjuring and binding and we’ll be great. Spirits won’t know what hit them.”, Lisa adds cheerfully, emphasizing the point with a clenched fist.

“Sounds like you’ve got the dangerous part of it sorted then.”, you respond optimistically, “So it’s the academy and then right off to protecting ships?”

“Yeah. Might join the navy or just freelance, we haven’t really picked anything out thou-”, Frederick begins to say before suddenly stopping, listening intently as a new voice can be heard coming from the office. It’s a bit muffled but clearly male, and you can just make vague sound of an argument between the newcomer and Karga.

“The tester?”, you question, looking to Lisa and Frederick. The three of you waste no time in getting up to check out the commotion in the office, crowding in close and peering through the transaction window and into the space beyond. A dark haired bearded man in academy robes and Karga appear to be arguing over some sort of obscure point of protocol, and it’s mostly gibberish to you despite your best efforts to make sense of it.

>Let them finish their argument. It’s amusing to watch, even if you don’t understand most of it.
>Try to politely get their attention.
>Crack the air with a bit of magic. Loud pops get attention very well.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3714287
>Try to politely get their attention
"Sirrah please"
>>
>>3714287
>Crack the air with a bit of magic. Loud pops get attention very well.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>3714288
>>3714298
>>
>>3714423
My luck...
>>
As entertaining as their arguing might be you have things to get done, and attempt to get their attention with a light tap on the glass and a polite, “Sirrah, please.”

They both turn to look at you, Karga stopping mid sentence and squinting his big yellow eyes for a moment before the bearded man lightly smacks him on the back of the head. “Ow! What’s that for?”, the imp complains loudly, trying to rub at where he was hit but unable to reach with his small oddly shaped arms.

“Oh shut up, you know what it’s for.”, the man says while glowering at the imp before shooing him off through a small wooden door that leads out of sight, “I’ll be right with you Miss, my apologies for the Imp’s behavior.”

“Is he always like that?”, you ask, wondering if this is business as usual at the academy.

The man approaches the window and immediately sets about making sense of what Karga did with your papers and forms, “No, normally he just does the work without a problem. He’s been… regressing somewhat over the last month or so unfortunately, we may need to get another soon. I hope he didn’t unsettle you too badly, I thought he could still cover for me without causing an incident.”

“He wasn’t that bad really, just a little creepy. What do you mean regressing?”

“It happens sometimes with trained and bound Imps, predatory instincts can sneak back in even if they’re well fed and the contract is ironclad.”, he explains while reading over some of your forms, “You’re Catherine, correct?”

“I am, yes.”

“Good, good. We need a bit of blood for the records, it will only sting a bit, and I’ll need to perform an aura reading if you’ll allow it.”, the man brings the needle and cloth back out from the drawer they were placed in earlier.

You extend your hand to the port in the window, feeling a lot less like something is going to bite your hand off this time, “Of course. So Karga, he… hasn’t actually bitten anyone, right?”

“Not anytime recently. He isn’t a danger, but if he’s bothering applicants it's still a problem. Thought I had him speaking in normal sentences again but…”, he pricks your index finger with the needle and collects a drop of blood on the cloth, “I guess I misjudged his state.”

“So he’s less creepy normally?”

The man raises a hand and you can feel the aura reading begin even with the glass between you, “Much less, appearance aside. Imps make good workers generally, even if most people think they’re pests. Ah, there, all done. Very impressive aura, you’re a real heavy hitter aren’t you?”
>>
>>3714605
“Uh, thanks, I guess. All done?”

The man writes a few things on a standardized looking card and then stamps it before handing it to you, “All done here at least, everything is in order to progress to the next stage. If you would, go through that door over there, the hallway will take you out of the gatehouse and into the academy grounds proper. Head into the pyramid, there’s a waiting area for applicants near the testing chambers - If you follow the signs you can’t miss it. They should have copies of all of your papers and be expecting you by the time you arrive, but if there’s an issue head back here and I’ll sort it out.”

“Hallway, pyramid, testing chambers. Got it.”, you parrot back while getting ready to move out of line.

The bearded man nods, “Have a nice day, and good luck. Next, please!”

>Wait for Frederick and Lisa and go in as a group.
>Move on and head right for the testing chambers.
>Look over the card for a bit.
>Move on and look around the grounds for just a bit, you’re curious to see the academy.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3714611
>Look over the card for a bit
Then
>Move on and head right for the testing chambers.
>>
>>3714611
>Move on and look around the grounds for just a bit, you’re curious to see the academy
>>
>>3714611
>Move on and head right for the testing chambers.
>>
It feels as if a great weight has been lifted from you as you turn to leave the room, knowing that you aren’t going to be held up by some bureaucratic nonsense is wonderful. With a bit of a spring in your step you head for the far door, your future ahead of you.

The door is old and heavy, dark wood reinforced with iron, and takes some effort to push open. The hallway beyond it stretches on for a good twenty yards and is illuminated in flickering lamp light. On an intellectual level you knew the gatehouse and academy walls were massive, large to the point of being almost impossible to build even with modern technology, but actually seeing the staggering scale of it as you pass through them amazes you. Holes in the ceiling of the long hallway, murder holes you believe they’re called, give evidence to a much older and more violent time, and there are many signs of additional gates and doors long removed or sealed over with stone throughout the hallway. The door at the end of the hallway opens just as the first did, and with a push you transition back from dim lamp light to the brightness of day, blinking and squinting for a moment as your eyes readjust. As your vision returns to normal you can’t help but gasp slightly at the view.

The academy is a magnificent sight, the towering central pyramid of gleaming polished white limestone looming high above the many pillared buildings that stretch across the grounds about its base. The only thing you could compare it to are long gone ancient temples you’ve read of in history books, for there’s nothing else like it in the world anymore. Wide pathways of smoothed stone connect the many buildings, carefully tended landscapes of trees and flowers filling the gaps between them. Forums, theaters, and dozens of other structures from times long past stand just as they did centuries ago.

Even the air seems cleaner and fresher, as if the smog of Homeport couldn’t find purchase within the academy walls, and from the unstained look of the building exteriors you deduce that there must be some sort of vast enchantment maintaining that state of purity. After a few moments of taking in the sights you set off down the largest path that heads directly toward the pyramid, walking past small groups of robed men and women going about whatever business they attend to as mages. A patrol of stern looking pyramid guards walk past in good order, all wearing outdated cuirasses and colorful puffy clothes of a style long past, but the bolt action rifles slung across their backs are anything but archaic.
>>
>>3716553
You briefly look at the card you were given as you walk, it’s a temporary identification pass of some kind. Neatly printed and labelled cells filled in by hand with your basic personal information. Catherine Ward, age nineteen, Cape Laka… Everything seems correct. The stamped area is a bit odd though, a massive red “AA-” stamped in the largest cell of the card and labelled ‘aura’. A classification system like this for auras is unfamiliar to you, but you think that's a good rating.

It takes a few minutes to reach the pyramid, its large black iron gates very similar to those of the outer wall’s gatehouse but left fully open. A cavernous central hall lies within and stretches all the way to the other side of the pyramid where another set of open gates mirrors the first, and from your past reading you know that an almost identical hallway runs perpendicularly through this one forming a great cross from which many staircases allow access to higher and lower levels.

You aren’t exactly going to some obscure corner of the pyramid though, and after entering you easily follow the clearly posted signs to the testing chambers, making your way past groups of students and a few instructors. A guard checks your card before letting you pass inside the testing area, directing you through one of a trio of arched stone entryways. The room beyond is in line with the rest of the pyramids gargantuan scale, a large stone dome with nothing cluttering its smoothed floor except a few summoning circles cut into the surface. Bright light from an unseen and indistinct source illuminates the area clearly.
>>
>>3716555
In the center of the domed room stands a tall raven haired woman wearing the gold trimmed red robes of an academy instructor, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently as you enter. Her expression is almost disdainful as you approach, sharp facial features given a stern aspect by it.

“Catherine Ward.”, she states, voice clear as she enunciates each syllable in a strange accent.

“...That’s me, yes.”, you answer, not entirely sure of the protocol for the situation yet. You hand her your card which she looks over with a small sneer before handing back.

“I am your proctor for this examination. Get rid of the bag.”, she commands, moving with measured step as she circles slowly around you and sizes you up.

A loud buzz fills the air and the feeling of an aura reading beginning is unmistakable, the tugging at the edges of your perception stinging and painful as she makes no attempt at all to lessen the discomfort. You lower your satchel carefully and slide it away a good distance across the floor, managing to not wince at the sting of the reading as you do so.

She ends the reading with a snap before continuing, utterly authoritarian in her manner of speaking, “The purpose of this examination is to determine your current level of skill in four broad categories the academy finds useful when considering a students application: Summoning, elemental control, body alteration, and general arcane martial ability. The results of this examination will be forwarded to a board of instructors that will determine your acceptance or denial to the academy, as well as your potential for both non-standard and advanced instruction. Is that clear?”

“Yes, proctor.”, you answer, falling back into the habits of discipline and respect you learned on the state run farm you grew up on.

“Excellent. Each category I listed has a corresponding section of the test. You may choose the order in which you will attempt these sections.”, she explains while casting a spell on a small stopwatch, “There will be no breaks between completion or failure of a section, you must choose the next one immediately or I will. I will give further instructions upon the selection of a section, and if you require clarification of instructions you may ask at any time. Choose the first section now.”

To begin with you start by...

>Choosing summoning.
>Choosing elemental control.
>Choosing body alteration.
>Choosing arcane martial ability.
>Asking her name politely, just calling her ‘proctor’ feels wrong.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3716559
>Choosing elemental control.
>>
>>3716559
>Choosing elemental control.
>>
>>3716559
>Choosing elemental control
>>
>>3716611
>>3716582
>>3716580

“Elemental control first.”, you choose, steeling yourself and focusing your mind for the task to come. The proctor draws a focus stone from a pocket and hands it to you, it’s a cleanly cut flat dark disc very unlike the smoothed skipping stones you are accustomed to. Adapting to it isn’t troublesome though, motes of mana beginning to swirl about its reflective surfaces as you test it, and if anything it’s easier to channel through.

With a snap of her fingers the proctor dims the lighting of the chamber slightly, focusing it on the center of the room where you both stand. She casts quickly and with practiced ease, a few smalls waves and gestures setting the circles carved into the floor aglow with arcane power. Minuscule but brilliant pinpricks of light appear floating above the center of each ring for a brief moment before expanding into small portals of swirling purple and black that are painful and disorienting to look into directly. A lit brazier, a basin of water, and a stone sphere float gently out of each portal sending ripples across their ethereal surfaces, and they come to rest on the ground at the center of each circle.

“This section of the test consists of four tasks, one for each of the classical elements.”, she explains, “I will first cast a series of spells manipulating each of these objects in set patterns, the stone with be used for both earth and air. You will then attempt to recreate the patterns of manipulation with your own magic to the best of your ability.”

Casting begins as soon as she finishes speaking, control of each element being displayed in at first simple but then increasingly complex ways. The flame is snuffed out, brought roaring back to life, its intensity altered from a tiny flicker like that of a candle to an overwhelmingly bonfire and then back to its original low burn. It’s shaped into dancing forms and burning geometric patterns, intertwining weaves of flame resembling wicker, chains of glowing heat…

It doesn’t take long to realize that the emphasis of the instructions was probably on ‘attempt’, the later parts look absurdly difficult especially for what will be improvised magic for the tester. You watch closely as similar displays are made for the other three elements, water moved about much as the flame was, and the stone sphere is carved and cracked and reshaped before then being sent gusting about the room at great speeds along complex and ever altering trajectories.

The example portion of the section ends after a few minutes, the items restored to their original condition and once again resting in the center of their circles. The proctor watches you like a hawk as you ready yourself to cast.
>>
>>3716888

Following the instructions you begin at once, calling up your power and...

>Focusing heavily on the parts you’re more confident in already - Doing the best at what you’re best at.
>Pouring your effort into the extremely difficult looking parts, relying on experience to cover the more mundane bits.
>Tax yourself greatly and give every element your true best effort, trying to recreate the display perfectly. This will likely leave you drained in the next three segments.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3716892
>Pouring your effort into the extremely difficult looking parts, relying on experience to cover the more mundane bits.
>>
>>3716892
>>Focusing heavily on the parts you’re more confident in already - Doing the best at what you’re best at.
>>
>>3716892
>Pouring your effort into the extremely difficult looking parts, relying on experience to cover the more mundane bits
>>
>>3716898
>>3716905
Alright, need some rolls.
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>3716935
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>3716935
Ex
>>
Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>3716935
>>
>>3716977
...Was writing with the 92, gimme a bit to adjust a some descriptions.
>>
>>3717006
Sorry
>>
>>3717019
No worries man, wasn't too hard to change things. Almost done now.
>>
>>3716977

The reflective black focus stone in your hand is alight with dancing motes of mana, and you can feel your aura flaring as you draw out your arcane power and focus it on the task ahead of you. Improvisational magic is already quite difficult, and this is going to be some very complex improvised spellwork indeed - To mention nothing of the raw energy some of it requires. You choose to lean into the difficulty, pouring your effort into the toughest parts and relying on your experience to handle the more basic manipulations of the elements.

It’s difficult deliberate work, each expenditure of power carefully controlled as you begin repeating the patterns the proctor displayed. The brazier’s flames dance to your command, swelling and shrinking as you gesture, fire contorting in close mimicry of how it did earlier. It isn’t quite perfect, occasional stray flames and flare ups marring the performance and the more complex weaves and patterns flickering and marginally less intense than they should be. You feel very good about it though, that went much better than expected, and you shift your focus to the remaining elements.

Water and earth are a lot trickier than fire was, you have little experience controlling them directly rather than with currents of air, but you manage to get through it quite competently. The errors that you displayed with flame are a bit more exaggerated with the water, but general forms and movement are still correct even through the most complex parts. The stone sphere is an utterly different beast, and changing its surface is a painfully hard thing to do, nothing at all like contorting the other elements. It is easily your worst part of the section, but in the end the contortions and alterations of the sphere are still more or less what were asked of you. A close run thing but a success nonetheless.

Air on the other hand is an absolute breeze. This is your domain, some of the first magic you ever used, and improvised or not it comes wildly more easily than the other elements. Gusts of wind move the stone sphere about the chamber perfectly, simple and complex trajectories matched without errors.

This was some of the best magic you’ve ever managed in your life, and you feel fantastic as the section wraps up.

“Minimally satisfactory.”, the proctor notes, her expression unwavering and difficult to read.

>Minimally satisfactory? Oh come on, that was amazing!
>Choose body alteration for the next section.
>Choose summoning for the next section.
>Choose arcane martial ability for the next section.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3717038
>Choose body alteration for the next section
>>
>>3717038
>>Minimally satisfactory? Oh come on, that was amazing!
>>Choose body alteration for the next section.
>>
>>3717053
>>3717251

“Body alteration next.”, you blurt out quickly, not wanting the proctor to choose instead. You adjust your grip on the black focus stone, getting a firmer hold on it after having worked up a bit of a sweat in the last section. Body alteration likely entails something with healing, so you roll your sleeves up a bit as things could get bloody. This isn’t an area of magic you have much experience with, the serious risk of causing more harm than good warding you away from attempting to improvise it much in the past.

“This section of the test consists of two parts, the strengthening and healing of a living being.'', the woman explains in her odd accent as she opens another portal with a snap. You watch, careful not to stare directly at it, as the portal abruptly disgorges a confused looking sheep into one of the carved circles. The animal bleats as it stands up and rights itself, but it doesn’t look at all injured.

While you’re pondering the sheep’s seemingly good health the proctor draws a small top-break revolver from within her robes, not looking at all bothered as she does so, and with a small gesture she casts a spell shackling the sheep in place with stone drawn up from the floor. You quickly realize what sort of test this is going to be.

Without a hint of remorse she continues with the instructions, “You may approach it. You have ten seconds to familiarize yourself with its aura and strengthen it, at the end which I will shoot it five times. You will have ten minutes to heal any wounds that are caused to the best of your ability.”

Growing up on a farm the slaughter of animals isn’t something that disturbs you in the slightest, but just injuring one for a test like this still seems a touch cruel.

>Object to the test, this is cruel and unnecessary!
>Focus heavily on strengthening it before it is injured, reducing the wound severity will help the most.
>Focus on readying yourself to heal it after it is injured, you can’t make a sheep stop a bullet.
>Tax yourself greatly and attempt to strengthen the sheep and heal any wounds it suffers to the best of your ability.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3717327
>Focus on readying yourself to heal it after it is injured, you can’t make a sheep stop a bullet.
>>
>>3717327
>Focus heavily on strengthening it before it is injured, reducing the wound severity will help the most
>>
>>3717327
>Focus heavily on strengthening it before it is injured, reducing the wound severity will help the most.
I prefer a tough time on flesh wounds
>>
>>3717327
>Focus on readying yourself to heal it after it is injured, you can’t make a sheep stop a bullet.
>>
File: sheep.jpg (33 KB, 800x480)
33 KB
33 KB JPG
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>3717352
>>3717400
1.
>>3717376
>>3717399
2.

Going to need some rolls as well.
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>3717425
baaaaaaaaaaa
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>3717425
I'm doing my best Sheep-kun!
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>3717428
>>3717439
And the final roll, to keep things moving.
>>
You waste no time, senses already honing in on the sheep’s aura as you move closer to the struggling animal while keeping out of the proctor’s line of fire. Beings without magic only have the faintest shadow of an aura, but it is still there and clear enough to read. In the few seconds you have you attempt to memorize its healthy state, noting the many fluctuating facets of the spectral cloak that wraps about the animal. Drawing on your power you try to lend a small measure of strength and resilience to the poor thing, but unfamiliar with this type of magic and doubting its usefulness in stopping a bullet you hold back and prepare energy to treat its wounds.

The proctor’s shots come in quick succession, leaving your ears ringing and striking the sheep across several areas of its body. A spray of blood splatters across the stone floor and your robes as something important is hit, an artery perhaps but you aren’t sure, and the animal cries out in pain. You try to stay focused and assess where it was hit by observing its aura and areas of its fleece rapidly darkening with blood, noting two quickly hemorrhaging wounds on its neck, a terrible looking ragged hole through one of its knees, and another pair of wounds in one of its shoulders.

All of the injuries are on the front half of its body, and you try to picture what its aura looked like there just a few moments ago before it was hurt. It’s a struggle to do so, the cries of the dying animal distracting you, but following the guiding mental image of its aura you begin to decipher what you think it is you need to do to save it. Starting with the most grievous ones you work wound by wound, in your mind’s eye picturing the flesh and sinew and bone returning to the shape it once held, motes of mana travelling in a steady stream from your focus stone to the animal as you force it to cease its bleeding and begin to heal through sheer force of will.

At first your efforts seem a success but the fight to keep the animal alive stretches on almost for the full ten minutes, and about half way in you realize it's a losing battle. Too much blood was lost before you staunched the flow, too many new sites of internal bleeding found just as you thought things were under control… It all just starts going wrong, issues more complex than simple bleeding or shattered bones beginning to compound the difficulty with every passing moment.

The sheep dies.

“Your failure has been noted.”, the proctor remarks coldly, returning the small revolver to some unseen holster within her robes. She releases the spell of stone binding the animal to the floor, smoothing the stone once again in a small display of elemental control.
>>
>>3717739

“Step back two paces.”, she orders. As you comply she snaps her fingers and removes the sheep carcass with another rapidly opening portal, this one stretching across the surface of the floor in the carved circle. It closes with a small pop a moment later.

>Take a moment to come back to your senses, failure tastes bitter in your mouth. The proctor can choose the next one.
>Choose to test your arcane martial ability next, you’re frustrated you couldn’t save the sheep and need to hit something.
>Choose to test summoning next, a break from violence is needed after that unpleasantness.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3717749
>Take a moment to come back to your senses, failure tastes bitter in your mouth. The proctor can choose the next one.
Mages don't dick about I suppose
>>
>>3717749
>Choose to test summoning next, a break from violence is needed after that unpleasantness.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>3717759
1.
>>3717753
2.
>>
>>3717846
Finally
>>
Using the focus stone you clean blood off your robes for the second time today, wishing that had gone better. After your success at elemental control you’d harbored a tiny hope you would pass all of the sections, but that dream is snuffed out now. Not wanting to delay for much longer lest the proctor choose you speak up, “Summoning next.”

She reaches into her red robes yet again, this time withdrawing a few small wooden cards. Taking a couple of steps closer she hands them to you, three in total, and you examine them as she gives instructions once more.

“This section of the test consists of three parts: Conjuring, binding, and banishing. The cards I’ve handed you have detailed steps outlining how to complete three different summoning rituals. You must choose one, complete the ritual, force the spirit or spirits to obey two of the commands listed on the card, and then banish the spirit or spirits. Fully losing control of a spirit will result in immediate failure of the section. There are twenty minutes to complete this task, beginning now.”

Of the three rituals you choose to summon…

>The three crafty coal imps.
>The mighty hellhound.
>The beguiling demon.
>>
>>3717968
>The mighty hellhound.
>>
>>3717968
>The mighty hellhound
I trust Catherine's raw power, if not her craftiness.
>>
>>3717968
>The beguiling demon.
Let's make a deal.
>>
>>3717968
>The mighty hellhound
>>
>>3717968
>The mighty hellhound.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>3718070
>>3718020
>>3718004
>>3717998
Alright, need some rolls. Try to not get chomped.
>>
Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>3718142
I don't know whether to laugh or cry
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>3718142
Have we accidentally opened a gate to hell?
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>3718142
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>3718142
Well this will surely end well.
>>
Summoning the hellhound, the great fiery wolf Ergrark, seems like the best choice of the three rituals. You discard the other two and they clatter across the hard floor. The proctor arches an eyebrow at that for just a moment before pulling the cards back to her with a simple use of air control.

The ritual card warns of Ergrark’s ‘indomitable will and terrible strength’, but as the days events have shown you’ve got a fair deal of raw power to spare - The prospect of meeting force with force and just overpowering an opponent almost sounds pleasantly straightforward after the straining ordeal that was attempting improvised body alteration or earth control.

Steps for the ritual are simple, and you approach a summoning circle carved in the floor that is of the correct size. Nicking the back of you right arm with a sharp gust of air projected from your focus stone you procure the few drops of human blood needed, and use another wind current to scatter the blood in the complex pattern specified by the card.

Easy stuff so far, anybody could do this.

Next you activate the circle with a touch and a few motes of mana, its outline glowing brightly as it seals shut and protective wards activate. The final step is to gather your power and focus it all into a single thought, putting the name Ergrark at the forefront of your mind as you call out into the void to bring him forth from the darkest depths of the spirit world. You do so, shutting out all other thoughts except that needed to hold the protective wards of the circle…

The air cracks, abyssal smoke smoldering from the ground in the circle, fiery flashes illuminating the massive hulking figure of the great hellhound Ergrark as he bursts forth from the stone floor! You stagger back a step, the concussive force of his arrival shaking the domed testing chamber. Ergrark is terrifying, a living nightmare made manifest, a great burning wolf of surely unstoppable ferocity. In his mouth he holds the dying body of a lesser spirit, a thrashing creature of carapace and claws, and with a shake of his head the hellhound rips the lesser being in two.

“Sit!”, you command, trying to sound authoritative.

Ergrark does so, unable to resist as your summoning caught him entirely off guard during a hunt.

Seizing the moment you bind his aura, focusing all of your power and thought on the image of a spiked spectral collar around the spirit’s huge neck. The hellhound cocks his head sideways, looking around the chamber in confusion before settling his predatory gaze upon you. A low growl fills the chamber, the wolf’s eyes full of rage.

...That went a lot better than you expected. Summoned, bound, and he’s already followed one of the commands the card lists. What is your second command?

>Roll over!
>Play dead!
>Fetch!
>>
>>3718295
>Roll over!
Cute puppy GET
>>
>>3718295
>Roll over!
Do we have any treats we can give him for being a good boi?
>>
>>3718295
>Roll over!
Then rub his belly while saying "good boy!"
>>
>>3718295
>>Roll over!
I thought about making it put it's paw in our hand but then I remembered it's pretty big
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>3718339
>>3718327
>>3718318
>>3718302
I need some rolls for him to roll over.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>3718430
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>3718430
good boi
>>
I hope we get dice modifiers from catching it off guard the first time
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>3718430
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>3718430
>>
>>3718434
>>3718435
>>3718455
>52
Closer than I thought this would run.

>>3718452
You do.
>>
An immense sense of triumph fills you, successful completion of the section just within your grasp. Staring down the enormous spirit you gather your willpower and begin to issue the second command, “Roll ov-”

Searing pain jolts you into silence, your mental focus briefly broken as Ergrark digs his claws into the cracked stone floor and strains against your control with every fiber of his being. The binding on his aura holds him in check long enough for you to recover, but the spectral collar is beginning to crack under the sudden mental counterattack. Surprise won you an impressive initial victory, but it seems ‘indomitable will’ wasn't written as a warning for no reason.

The battle of minds is grueling, stretching on for minutes, but slowly you regain control. Adrenaline and an almost primal belief that this creature will devour you alive the moment it escapes drives you onward. Girding yourself you make one final mental push, just barely overpowering the hellhound as you cry out the second command once again.

“ROLL OVER!”

The floor shakes as the massive fiery wolf complies, rolling over just as a trained dog would despite its best efforts to resist. Both commands have been obeyed, and now only banishment remains.

The proctor watches closely, checking her stopwatch.

>Strike now while the iron is hot and finish it, banish the hellhound!
>Attempt to make the binding more permanent and secure, this is probably a rare opportunity!
>Write-in.
>>
>>3719052
>Strike now while the iron is hot and finish it, banish the hellhound!
Finish the job
>>
>>3719052
>Attempt to make the binding more permanent and secure, this is probably a rare opportunity!
>>
>>3719052
>Strike now while the iron is hot and finish it, banish the hellhound!
>>
Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>3719098
>>3719066
Need on last set of rolls for this. Probably.
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>3719294
Sorry doggie, gotta go back to hell
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>3719294
Bad doggy
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>
The hellhound is effectively pinned at this point in your contest of wills, the spectral collar you bound it with recovering its strength now and only compounding your dominance over the beast. Having never banished a spirit before you’re not entirely certain how to proceed for a few moments, but wanting to end this while you still have the upper hand you make a guess and settle on a direct spiritual attack - No physical matter, no manipulation of elements or willpower, just an unrelenting torrent of mana to strip away its aura layer by layer.

You raise the black focus stone and level it at the wolf, drawing deep from your reserves of power and dropping the summoning circle’s wards as you coalesce the attack. Motes of mana, innumerable blue sparks, form into a coherent beam of spiritual energy that begins to burn away at the creature’s aura.

Ergrark howls terribly as the attack strikes him, magical flames sputtering and going out across his dark hide as the beam burrows into him. To the naked eye it’s an impressive and bright display, but to those with magically attuned senses it is almost blinding - You can barely even watch it yourself, squinting and shielding your eyes with your spare hand to avoid the worst of its painful radiance. The beam is a very sloppy brute force method, certainly not how banishment is meant to be done you now realize, but with the binding collar weakening the hellhound’s spiritual defenses it cannot resist the assault.

The huge spirit dissolves into what looks like ash, starting from the impact point of the beam and then rapidly spreading outward, and a few moments later even the ash itself fades away. Only cracked and charred stone is left to evidence that it was ever there.

You feel drained, but you’ve done it. The summoning section is over, you didn’t lose control or time out - It’s a pass. Some part of you doubts you could have done it without the element of surprise, but whether that’s true or not hardly matters now.
>>
>>3719693

“A peculiar technique.”, the proctor states sounding almost amused before returning to her normal icy tone, “The final section of the examination will now begin.”

From her crimson robe she draws a black focus stone almost identical to the one she handed you earlier, and the realization that she has been casting without one this entire time rapidly dawns on you. With a snap she opens almost a dozen portals of varying sizes in many places across the domed chamber, and lit braziers, huge basins of water, and many stone spheres float gently from them and settle on the ground. Another snap dismisses the portals, and she assumes a fighting pose.

“This section of the test is simple: You pass if you are still conscious in one minute, or somehow render me unable to fight. The chamber’s portal system and circles are not to be used. Prepare yourself for combat, Miss Ward, and do not hold back.”

You’re already tired from the previous sections, and wish somebody had actually mentioned that the damn proctor attacks you as part of the exam. You were expecting some moving targets or something, not a duel! Nothing about this exam has been basic, somebody has clearly lied to you, and it all feels like its been set up to ensure catastrophic failure.

...So what’s your plan to pass anyways?

>Attempt to keep your distance and try to get a read on the proctor’s aura, figure out what you’re dealing with here.
>Ready a defensive shield with air and fire control, that should stop almost any kind of attack in its tracks.
>Attack, and attack, and attack some more! Let her have it with a barrage of stone spheres!
>Write-in.
>>
>>3719708
>Ready a defensive shield with air and fire control, that should stop almost any kind of attack in its tracks.
We've some knowledge of how to conduct a defense, no? Just hold the line.
>>
>>3719708
>Attack, and attack, and attack some more! Let her have it with a barrage of stone spheres!
>>
>>3719708
>RUN BITCH
>>
>>3719708
>Focus on that feeling of indignant rage at all this bullshit.
>Rush her. Physically. She said 'still conscious or render her unable to fight'. She never explicitly said you had to use JUST magic to do it. Get a tailwind behind you, tackle her and pummel and maybe use some magic to enhance your hits because fuck her, and fuck this.
>>
>>3719942
supporting
the best defense is an overpowering offence
>>
>>3719942
Switching
Use a jet of air to propel our fist as hard as we can into this bitch's face
>>
Rolled 7, 99, 83 = 189 (3d100)

>>3719942
>>3720238
>>3720400
Alright, seems like a bold plan. I'll need some rolls.
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3720582
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>3720582
>99
really? Well, guess this quest is taking a left turn. Hedge Mage Quest ahoy.
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>3720582
We just need to roll a 100 to get her!
>>
Really, I just dislike uppity, non-emotional people like this proctor trying to act tough to some children. Emotions aren't bad, you fucking tree.
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>3720582
>>
An indignant rage fills you as you glare at the dark haired proctor, thinking of what utter bullshit this whole examination has been. You’re worn down from the previous sections, the aches of power use now setting in, but you’ve had worse in the past. Weeks of fitful sleep during the mutiny, long hours spent waiting for the rebel’s sudden assaults on the farm, kept awake for ages by sporadic bombardment - A bit of fatigue isn’t going to stop you now, adrenaline and rising anger pushing you forward.

Stay conscious for a minute while desperately avoiding attacks? Buy time with defensive spells? No, you’re going to knock this cold bitch right out of that absurd fighting pose she’s in, it's probably the last thing she expects.

You grip your focus stone tightly, clench your offhand into a fist, and prepare to go on the offensive. Fighting against another mage is new to you, most of the fights you’ve been in have been at a distance with rifles, but you suspect that this isn’t the place to risk improvised magic and call on a very, very familiar spell instead - The body encompassing air cushion you use to survive kite crashes. With a bit of redirection and some hastier energy expenditure it could be a potent attack, massively enhancing your impact into a target in a split second instead of reducing it over several, and a second more focused version of the spell should ward away any self-inflicted injury your new striking strength will cause.

Wind kicks up around you as you center your mind, small pieces of the cracked stone floor swirling about as you wrap yourself in the spells. You charge toward the waiting proctor, blasting yourself forward with a great gust to strike that with your spell laden fist.

Only at the last moment do you realize your severe misjudgment, the proctor’s arms suddenly aglow with the blue light of mana.

The blast of the impact is tremendous as she redirects the force of your blow with a spell enhanced parry, a punch of her own aggressively striking into your extended arm while simultaneously knocking it aside. The gust still carries you forward, but instead of crashing into her with a tackle you find yourself thrown to the ground as she sidesteps and pushes you violently downward with a wind enhanced strike from her focus stone wielding hand.

The second spell you prepared saves you from blacking out into unconsciousness as you slam into the floor, the impact still feeling like you’ve been struck by a car though. You have a bit of experience with that sort of thing though, and scramble quickly to get back on your feet and recover. The proctor presses her attack as you do so, lightning quick kicks landing in rapid succession before you can mount a proper defense. It’s all you can do to get away as the blows rain in, sliding yourself across the floor haphazardly with a powerful gust of wind to get some distance back.
>>
>>3720845

Pain floods your senses, and your left arm feels broken, but you manage to stagger back to a standing position, breathing labored as you ready yourself for more attacks. They don’t come. Instead of closing the distance and continuing to pummel you the proctor is casting some kind of spell from across the chamber, and with a groan you realize that the stone spheres across the chamber are rising into the air.

You’re still in the fight, but just barely, and hardly any time has passed at all. You’re outmatched physically and magically, the dark haired proctor looking to have great experience with both kinds of combat and raw power comparable to your own - This is a bad situation, but sheer bloody minded determination carries you on.

>Attack again! She’s probably distracted readying that spell!
>Focus on defense, intensify your protective air spell and try to dodge what you can.
>Try to redirect the spell she’s casting, use the spheres against her.
>...Try to buy time and rush a re-summoning of the hellhound. The chamber's circles can’t be used by the rules, but containment is the last thing you want right now.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3720847
>Try to redirect the spell she’s casting, use the spheres against her.
>>
>>3720847
>Focus on defense, intensify your protective air spell and try to dodge what you can.

Now that we are flushed with adrenaline knocking us out should be much more difficult task. The only thing we need to do is stay on defensive. Just as planned
>>
>>3720667
This is test. What were you expecting tea and biscuit?
>>
Well, that didn't work. Time to run.

It's said flat out:
>You’re outmatched physically and magically.

It'd be a fools errand to try and actually assault her as tired as we are now. My intention was to catch her off guard and hope for a quick end. Now all that's left to do is run. I'd love it if we could actually escape the battle area, but she strikes me as the type to not permit that because reasons.

>>3720873
I was expecting something feasible to accomplish for the layman, not an 'elites only' kinda situation, nor did I expect the proctors to inflict a test situation that would logically be incredibly difficult to actually accomplish. I was expecting basic aptitude tests, not anything like this. I suppose I get why they do it, but it still strikes me as more than a touch unfair, as if someone could accomplish all this to more than a 'minimally satisfactory' level, then why the hell would they need schooling? It strikes me as counter-intuitive.
>>
>>3720856
Could we remove the air that she's breathing. I 'm thinking that this would stop her from concentrating on her spell.
>>
>>3720847
>Focus on defense, intensify your protective air spell and try to dodge what you can.
>Misdirection attempts as well, any kind of obstruction of line of sight if possible.
>>
>>3720901
Or this, but only if we know we can do it.
>>
Rolled 39, 25, 84 = 148 (3d100)

>>3720888
>>3720870
>>3720926

The core of both of these are pretty similar: keep distance, misdirect, defend when possible, etc. Going to combine them since it all makes sense together.

Need some rolls for it though, throw em' at me!
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>3720950
O
shit
O
fuck
>>
>>3720873
This is me
>>3720888
>I was expecting something feasible to accomplish for the layman, not an 'elites only' kinda situation, nor did I expect the proctors to inflict a test situation that would logically be incredibly difficult to actually accomplish.

But tests were not difficult.
>Elemental control.
Straight out aptitude test, I think even MC comment on it herself
>Summoning.
We passed this even if we didn't have previous experience. We didn't even recognize being at the entry as an imp.
We could pick something less difficult. Also the two girls at entrance. You know with pitiful amount of magic. They are able to banish imps, not that hard of a test.
I was baffled when annons picked hellhound.
>Body alteration.
We had no idea about medicine... Im not surprised that we failed.
>Choosing arcane martial ability.
Test is ongoing so I hold out on commentary.
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>3720950
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>3720950
>>
>>3720888
>as if someone could accomplish all this to more than a 'minimally satisfactory' level, then why the hell would they need schooling? It strikes me as counter-intuitive.

>'minimally satisfactory' level
Is what projector is saying. Its part of the test she isn't the one that will be scoring it, she said it herself.
>>
>>3720960
Nice save.
>>
>>3720980
Then wouldn't that be grossly misleading?

God I just hate characters like this.
>>
The desire to counterattack is strong, your growing anger hard to resist, but you shove idea aside and clear your racing thoughts. Further attacking seems like it would be futile, you were trounced clearly enough to see that now. You settle in for a more drawn out defense, strengthening your protective barrier of air and preparing for a fight of dodging and tricky maneuver. Running out the clock wasn’t your first choice, but with your new injuries offence just isn’t all that appealing anymore. Your heart pounds as you evaluate your opponent, adrenaline pumping as you try to guess what the trajectories of the stone spheres will be.

The proctor finishes casting her spell, extending her focus stone toward you and launching the earthen spheres in a massive volley. There are dozens of them flying toward you, each the size of two fists put together and moving with great speed. You guessed most of their paths correctly though, glad there wasn’t some further trickery to the spell, and launch yourself upward and above most of the incoming projectiles with a blast of wind. The few still threatening you as you soar through the air are deflected with another gust just barely enough to miss. Falling back to the hard stone floor you manage to mostly stick the landing with the help of your protective barrier.

Crimsons robes a blur of speed the proctor charges toward you as you land, lashing torrents of flame whipping out from braziers and following closely by her sides as she passes them. You run, trying to keep distance as you improvise a bit of simple earth control. Minuscule fragments of stone dislodge from the floor across a great swathe of the chamber as you flee, and with a few follow-up blasts of air you kick up a massive cloud of dust. Using it as concealment you propel yourself into the air just as you did before, and then use another blast to change direction mid leap while out of sight. Tendrils of flame sweep through the obscuring cloud, whipping blindly at where you were and several likely paths you could have taken - The few that reach into the air thankfully miss.

You land, successful in buying some time, and turn to face the cloud and try to locate the proctor again. It isn’t hard, the cloud shrinking to a dense center as she clears it with earth and air control and scans the chamber to locate your new position. Wasting no time you keep moving, and the game begins again. More area attacks follow quickly, the proctor’s efforts to catch you growing trickier just as your defensive ploys do, but you stay ahead of enough of it to burn off a lot more time - A few attacks glance you as your stamina steadily depletes from the constant vigorous casting, but your barrier stops the worst of it. As this contest of arcane cat-and-mouse stretches on you notice the growing enthusiasm of the proctor, a small smile slowly growing into a full grin as the end of the section rapidly approaches.
>>
>>3721229
She slows, halting her pursuit as you continue your evasive action, and begins to cast something you haven’t seen yet - The air around her focus wielding hand distorts as lightning crackles into life, forms into a huge sphere about a half a meter wide, and then launches toward you.

Only a few seconds remain.

>Propel yourself with a final gust of air and try to dodge it.
>Attack into the attack with everything you’ve got, disrupting it with a spell of your own.
>Put your remaining energy into your barrier, trying to stop it cold.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3721238
>>Propel yourself with a final gust of air and try to dodge it.
>>
>>3721238
>Attack into the attack with everything you’ve got, disrupting it with a spell of your own.
>>
>>3721238
Air vs. Advanced Air, huh?
>Redirect it back towards her- and keep redirecting it if it's homing. You don't have to NOT get hit by it, you just have to prevent it from hitting you for long enough.
>>
>>3721238
>Attack into the attack with everything you’ve got, disrupting it with a spell of your own.
>>
>>3721238
>Redirect it back towards her- and keep redirecting it if it's homing. You don't have to NOT get hit by it, you just have to prevent it from hitting you for long enough
>>
Rolled 15, 54, 96 = 165 (3d100)

>>3721248
>>3721491
>>3721252
>>3721501
Redirection and attacking into it are complementary ideas in this case, going to combine them.

Need some rolls, this is the last part of the examination.

>>3721252
Pretty much advanced air, yeah.
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>3721538
Yeah, I figured. Lighting is basically made by ionizing air particles and then the air itself splitting- it's hard to describe, but it's more air and magnetism than heat, contrary to what some folks might think.

And let's hope that knowledge translates into a good roll.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>3721538
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>3721538
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>3721538
>>
The sphere of lightning hurtles toward you, illuminating the chamber as it closes the distance in the blink of an eye. You barely react in time, instincts honed over countless of hours of flying in good and bad weather screaming at you to do only one thing - Redirect the attack with your own. Change the path of least resistance. A torrent of air rips forward from your focus stone, catching the projectile just a few meters away and disrupting it. The sphere dissolves explosively into dozens of crackling arcs of electricity, the imperfect redirection channeling most of it away from you and into the ground but a few twist through the air in odd jagged angles - Two manage to strike your protective barrier, which does less than you had hoped to stop them.

Your feel your whole body stop, seizing up in terrible pain as the bolts impact your extended arm. Smoking, arm burnt, you fall to the floor unable to control yourself. It’s absolute agony but you don’t black out, remaining horribly aware for the several seconds it takes for the pain to transition from hellish to merely awful. On your back you stare up at the chamber’s domed ceiling, perception of time hazy and indistinct. The air reeks of ozone.

“...And that is time.”, you faintly hear the proctor says in her strange accent, “The examination is now completed. Congratulations on your success, Miss Ward. It’s a rare thing indeed.”

It doesn't feel like success. You manage a pained vaguely angry groan in response, still only looking at the ceiling.

“Lay still.”, she commands as you can hear her footsteps coming closer, “I will heal your wounds.”

A few moments later blessed, rapturous relief floods through your body as the pain rapidly abates. You can feel as bones, bruises, and burns all heal one after another, all of your wounds cured - How long it takes is hard to guess, but you don’t protest. The proctor stands above you, her sharp featured face looking down at you as she casts through her black focus stone, green eyes observing you keenly as you stir back into motion. Even healed you’re still beyond exhausted, the examination having utterly wiped you out.

The proctor offers a hand to help you stand back up.

>Take her hand and get up.
>Struggle to your feet on your own.
>Just lay here for a bit longer, doing anything sounds terrible right now.
>Write-in.

Feel free to suggest dialogue to accompany any of the options.
>>
>>3721829
>Take her hand and get up.
>>
>>3721829
>Take her hand and get up
>>
>>3721829
>Just lay here for a bit longer, doing anything sounds terrible right now.
Well we survived. What do we get from passing?
>>
>>3721829
>Take her hand and get up.
>>
>>3721855
>What do we get from passing?
... It's not actual question you want to ask right?
>>
>>3721829
>Sit up, catch your breath. You'll get up on your own. Just...in a bit.

> "No kidding. No one told me part of the test was a f****** cage match."
>>
>>3721829
Ask her how should we proceed from now on? How long and where should we wait for results. Apologize if we acted out, we got quite fired up. Thank her for being our examinator
>>
>>3721829
>Take her hand and get up.
>Thanks for the fight, it was fun.
>>
You accept the help and take her hand as you get up, a brief wave of dizziness washing over you as you stand. Drenched with sweat you take a moment to just breathe and get your balance, briefly thinking of how terrible you must look. Your robe is a mess of burns and torn holes, completely ruined.

“I, uh, I didn’t…”, you have to catch your breath for a moment before you continue, “Didn’t realize there was going to be a damn duel.”

“I will make sure to pass that on to the board.”, the proctor states sounding a touch amused, “Are you able to walk, Miss Ward?”

“...Probably not, but I’ll find a way to manage.”, you answer, letting go of her supporting hand and wobbling just slightly before finding your balance.

She gives a slight approving nod, “You may exit the chamber when you are ready. Remain on the academy grounds for the time being, the board’s decision may take some time. A runner will find you when they finish their deliberation.”

“Is that bad?”, you ask, wondering how long it could possibly take to review some letters and your examination results.

“No.”, she answers without further explanation, “There is a chamber near the eastern entrance were you may rest and acquire new clothes, show them your identification card and you will not be charged. I suggest you get some.”

She retrieves the black focus stone your dropped after the lightning hit you and begins repairing the ruined chamber with a series of spells, hardly even seeming phased by the battle.

>Push for more of an explanation.
>Ask some questions about the examination. (Suggest them)
>Ask questions about the academy more generally. (Suggest them)
>Ask her name, you never got it.
>Retrieve your satchel and leave, there’s a lot of academy to see after you rest some.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3722181
>>Retrieve your satchel and leave, there’s a lot of academy to see after you rest some.

Still a bitch.
>>
>>3722181
>Thank her for a fight
>Retrieve your satchel and leave, there’s a lot of academy to see after you rest some.
>>
>>3722181
>Retrieve your satchel and leave, there’s a lot of academy to see after you rest some
>>
>>3722181
>>Ask her name, you never got it.
>>Retrieve your satchel and leave, there’s a lot of academy to see after you rest some.
>>
“I never got your name.”, you remark while watching as the proctor casts, “It doesn’t seem right to not know it after a fight like that.”

“Vogel.”, she responds, giving only what you guess is a surname from wherever it is she’s from, “Is that all? I have a lot to get done here.”

“...I suppose it is.”, you answer, leaving her to the work of repairing the massive room.

With nothing further to discuss you give a polite farewell and collect your satchel, checking over it to ensure it didn’t suffer any damage during the examination, and exit the chamber through its arched doorway. Walking isn’t easy in your current state but you manage it, just as you claimed you would. You ache with fatigue but your thoughts are only on the board that will determine your acceptance, wondering when exactly you’ll get the news of their decision. The cuirass wearing pyramid guard outside of the chamber area is speaking with Frederick and Lisa as you pass by, who both look nervous as he examines their identification cards.

Lisa notices you first, and seems startled to see you. It’s probably just your wrecked robes and frazzled hair giving her a bit of a shock, but her expression is one of real concern.

“Oh my god, Catherine! What happened, are you alright?”, she questions urgently, rushing over to you. Frederick joins her shortly, asking much the same. The guard watches on with mild interest but maintains his post.

>Take the time to tell them the whole truth of what happened.
>Warn them vaguely that the examination is more difficult than you expected.
>Just tell them that you’re fine, the robes took the worst of it, and move on quickly
>Write-in.
>>
>>3722616
>I got my ass beat. Turns out the last test is just 'survive'.
>>
>>3722616
>Warn them vaguely that the examination is more difficult than you expected.
It's quite... comprehensive.
>>
>>3722616
>>Take the time to tell them the whole truth of what happened.
>>
>>3722616
>Warn them vaguely that the examination is more difficult than you expected.
That last bit is just a little more.. intense that you might think. I'm fine, already healed.
>>
>>3722616
>Warn them vaguely that the examination is more difficult than you expected.
Overexplaining things will just make things worse for everyone involved
>>
“I’m fine, already healed up.”, you reassure them, “The examination wasn’t what I expected though, it was quite... comprehensive. Just be careful what section you choose first, the martial testing is, uh, rather intense.”

“Oh, thanks, feeling real confident about it now.”, Frederick remarks sarcastically, “Glad you’re alright though.”

Lisa grins widely, “Me too! ...But what happened to your clothes?”

“The martial testing.”, you answer, too exhausted to expound further, “Good luck in there.”

Lisa laughs a little nervously, looking to Frederick for reassurance which he doesn’t give. You leave with a small shrug, nothing you could say really being able to help them much. If they aren’t ready by this point then it's simply too late to change that.

You head back out into the massive central crossing of the pyramid, slowly making your way to the eastern gate to get some get some much needed rest and a new set of clothes. Several mages you pass give you sympathetic looks, probably having gone through a similarly painful experience when they applied. Eventually you arrive at the rest area you were told about, it’s a small room just off of the main hall, the arched doorway of a similar style to the one at the testing chamber.

Entering you find several round wooden tables and what must be the most comfortable looking chairs you’ve ever set eyes on - In truth they’re entirely mundane, but you’re too exhausted to ever see them as anything other than devilishly tempting to just rest on for a few minutes… or hours…

You shake your head, clearing a bit of your mental fog and resisting the sweet siren song of the chairs for just a few moments more. A surprisingly dapper looking imp watches you from behind a stone counter top at the far side of the room, eyes peering out from behind a newspaper he clutches in his little frog-man hands. He lowers the paper, hops down off the stool he was standing on, and waddles out into the room to greet you.

“Salutations, applicant! I hope your failure in the examination hasn’t dampened your spirit too greatly on this wonderful day!”, he begins in an almost sickeningly cheery tone, “I’m Kogo! my job is to make sure you get some fresh clothes, a place to rest, and whatever else you might need to recover! Remember that no matter how bad your failure was the future is still bright, and you’ll surely improve on your second attempt!”

>”Could, agh... Could you please stop speaking so loudly? It’s giving me a headache.”
>”Hi Kogo, I’m Catherine. So you’re supposed to get me new clothes? I could really use something with fewer holes burned in it.”
>”I didn’t fail the test.”
>Write-in.
>>
>>3723179
>”Hi Kogo, I’m Catherine. So you’re supposed to get me new clothes? I could really use something with fewer holes burned in it.”
Cards to the chest
>>
>>3723179
>>”Could, agh... Could you please stop speaking so loudly? It’s giving me a headache.”
>>”Hi Kogo, I’m Catherine. So you’re supposed to get me new clothes? I could really use something with fewer holes burned in it.”
>>
>>3723179
>>”Hi Kogo, I’m Catherine. So you’re supposed to get me new clothes? I could really use something with fewer holes burned in it.”
>>
>>3723179
>”Hi Kogo, I’m Catherine. So you’re supposed to get me new clothes? I could really use something with fewer holes burned in it.”
>”I didn’t fail the test.”
I wouldn't be surprised if passing the test means that we should get different clothes
>>
>>3723179
>>”Hi Kogo, I’m Catherine. So you’re supposed to get me new clothes? I could really use something with fewer holes burned in it.”
>>
You attempt to remain polite in the face of the imp’s overwhelming positivity, ”Hi Kogo, I’m Catherine. So you’re supposed to get me new clothes? I could really use something with fewer holes burned in it.”

He nods and gives you a big grin, rows of sharp white teeth flashing as he does so, “A pleasure to meet you, and that is absolutely correct! Follow me, just this way, I’ll need to get your measurements - No ill fitting clothes here, no Miss, those just won’t do!”

“Uh, sure. I was just expecting a basic robe though...”, you almost sigh having hoped this was going to be a quick affair, “This won’t take long, right?”.

“Not at all! Don’t worry, you’ll be resting snugly in a chair in no time at all, a few minutes at most!”, Kogo assures you, gesticulating vigorously as he does so.

“Alright, that’s not too terrible. Lead the way, Kogo.”

He leads you through a door behind the counter he was sitting at and into another room filled with bolts of cloth in many shades and textures, spools of thread both large and small, and all kinds of other items for sewing and tailoring. He motions for you to stand on a slightly raised stone platform set off to the side of the room, and you comply.

“Hold still for just a moment, please.”, he asks while casting a bit of air control that you can feel tighten in lines over your body briefly before releasing, “...And all done! You’ll be looking fantastic, the best you ever have - No reason to let failing the examination put a rain cloud over your head! Would you like them in a new or traditional academy style?”

The imp points to two mannequins, the first of which is garbed in a fashionable and quite modern looking blouse, vest, and long twill skirt. A simple oval opal brooch completes the look, it’s surface carved with the academy insignia. The other mannequin is in very traditional looking mages robes, which are far less flattering and much bulkier. The upper area of the robe’s left sleeve is embroidered with the academy insignia, standing out very clearly and probably easily recognized at a distance. Both sets are mainly in black and white, the colors of an applicant.

“We just started with the new one, it’s part of a modernization effort council member Ackerly has been pushing through!”, he explains enthusiastically, “Not very popular yet, but I think it looks wonderful! Looking good really raises a person's spirit, even after a failure, you know?”

>Choose the new style. It looks great, and keeping with the times seems important.
>Choose the traditional style. Mages should have robes, it sets them apart in the world.
>”Are there any other options?”
>”I didn’t fail the exam.”
>Write-in.
>>
>>3723755
>”Why are you thinking that I failed the exam?”
>Choose the traditional style. Mages should have robes, it sets them apart in the world.
>>
>>3723755
>Choose the new style. It looks great, and keeping with the times seems important.
>>
>>3723755
>Choose the new style. It looks great, and keeping with the times seems important.
>”Why are you thinking that I failed the exam?”
>>
>>3723755
>”Why are you thinking that I failed the exam?”
>Choose the traditional style. Mages should have robes, it sets them apart in the world.
Really ambivalent about the outfit desu
On one hand tradition is important and robes are cool(Also warm)
On the other the modern one sounds more practical
>>
Maybe some pics of the dresses would help qm
>>
>>3723788
I think MC is in need of a nap. It's hard to imagine it in new style outfit.
>>
>>3723755
>Choose the new style. It looks great, and keeping with the times seems important.
>>
>>3723755
>Choose the traditional style. Mages should have robes, it sets them apart in the world.
>”I didn’t fail the exam.”
>>
File: New Style.jpg (304 KB, 1060x1528)
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>>3723808
It took a bit of searching to find something close to what I was imagining but this is basically the new style. Colors are off, but it should get the idea across.

Couldn't find anything that quite matched to how I was picturing the traditional robes though, I might try drawing them at some point but I'm pretty bad at it. Just imagine a big, bulky generic wizards robes sort of affair for now - Probably able to store a bunch of stuff inside of it but does nothing for the wearers looks.

>>3723761
>>3723788
>>3723860
Traditional three.

>>3723763
>>3723787
>>3723852
New three.
>>
>>3723867
>Traditional
Something like that?
>>
>>3723899
That's actually very close to what I was thinking of for general form, yeah. Just imagine the trim as black and the main body as white and it's more or less correct.
>>
If I might forward an argument in favor of the new type that isn't based in looks, I would argue that Catherine has thusfar shown a propensity for elemental and martial magic types, which I imagine largely don't require catalysts or other such materials to be carried around.
>>
>>3723913
That is correct, elemental control and martially focused magic in general just needs a basic focus stone. On the other hand the large traditional robes allow for many wands and reagents to be concealed and carried about without issue, but those are mostly relevant for enchanting and summoning where having more precise focusing tools or specific materials is very important.

Think of wands as just smaller focus stones on sticks, they're more specialized tools for delicate work and help a lot in doing it in the same way a craftsman needs many tools of the same type but in varying sizes. Casting doesn't actually require a focus of any sort, it's just far more sloppy and less efficient without one unless you're tremendously talented or well practiced at a specific field - Even the best mage benefits from using one.
>>
>>3723913
And don't forget the New style of dress would be more practical for flying should we choose to call in the favor from the steelworks.
>>
>>3723913
>>3723964
It's not like we are limited to one type of clothes. It just as of right now the more suitable is traditional.
>>
>>3723975
Very true, this isn't some sort of binding permanent choice for how Catherine will dress forever. It's mostly important for first impressions with people at the academy over the rest of the day, modernizing vs. traditional is a bit of an internal political split and how Catherine presents herself will color opinions.
>>
At worst we could use the space in robes to store various types of flammable materials
>>
>>3723990
Roll d2 if no tie breaker
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>3724077
Was hoping to get a bit of consensus but sure. It'll be a bit until the next story post, going out to eat lunch.

New 1, traditional 2.
>>
Aw, nuts. I like the sleekness of the modern stuff.
>>
>>3724098
I'm curious, what would the other options entail?
>>
>>3724110
I was thinking something militaristic
>>
>>3724115
Well a cavalry uniform can never go wrong
>>
>>3723755
If it's not too late I'm voting for
>Choose the new style. It looks great, and keeping with the times seems important.
>>
And I'm back, only for a couple of hours though.

>>3724132
I'll take it, haven't started writing yet. Votes are always preferable to a coin flip for me at least.
>>
>>3723755
>”Are there any other options?”

let's get something more militaristic reflecting our navy upbringing
>>
“The new style. It’s very sleek, I like it.”, you say while pointing a finger to the first mannequin, “What’s this nonsense about failing though? I passed the exam.”

“Oh, a good choice! Very moder- Uh, sorry, what did you say? I think I misheard you.”, Kogo sounds caught off guard by your comment, almost coughing as he trips on his own words.

“I passed the exam.”, you restate, watching the imp’s growing confusion. He had begun to start casting, working a spell to craft your chosen outfit, but stops dead in his tracks.

“W-what? That… that doesn’t happen. Do you mean you passed a section? Body alteration probably? That’s the easy one.”, the imp asks for clarification, turning his attention fully to you.

“Three sections.”, you say beginning to grow a bit annoyed while holding up three fingers to emphasize the point, “I actually failed the body alteration section. Three out of four is still passing, right?”

“Oh. Oh my. Yes, it is indeed!”, Kogo’s yellow eyes widening in shock before he unsteadily recovers his cheery tone, “A thousand apologies, Miss! Congratulations! The last time an applicant passed was… eight years ago?”

“...I’m getting the feeling that people aren’t supposed to pass, are they?”, you ask stating the now very obvious, thinking on how unfair that seems.

His composure now fully regained he explains things while setting back about his work crafting your outfit, “That’s right! The goal of the examination is to see how and when an applicant fails, and the attitude they display throughout it. How they take directions, deal with pain, how they improvise, that sort of thing! If you get accepted you retake it at the end of the year to check your progress… but I guess you won’t have to!”

“Really wish somebody had warned me about that first.”, you sigh, waiting for the imp to finish so you can change and then get some much needed rest.

“Oh, no, that would defeat the whole point! It’s a very old kind of testing, and the council finds it very valuable from what they tell me! Not that they talk with me much!”, he responds as if what you said was somehow silly and laughs a little, nearly completed making your new clothes with genuinely remarkable speed.

He looks over his work and nods approvingly, “There, it’s perfect! You’ll look fantastic! You can use that room over there to change.”

>Change, and then get some rest. The academy is more exhausting than you could’ve ever expected, on multiple levels.
>”So the board will definitely accept my application then, right?”
>”You said somebody passed eight years ago, who was that? Just how uncommon is this?”
>”Agh, gods sake Kogo, do you always talk like this? It’s killing me.”
>Write-in.
>>
>>3724493
>”You said somebody passed eight years ago, who was that? Just how uncommon is this?”
Oh shit, did we do a good?
>>
>>3724493
>”You said somebody passed eight years ago, who was that? Just how uncommon is this?”
>Change, and then rest
>>
>>3724493
>>Change, and then get some rest. The academy is more exhausting than you could’ve ever expected, on multiple levels.

A classic case of achievements in ignorance.
>>
>>3724493
>”You said somebody passed eight years ago, who was that? Just how uncommon is this?”

>Change, and then wait for Frederick and Lisa to relay them what Kogo’s told you.
>>
While you gather up the clothes you can’t help but ask Kogo a few questions, your curiosity piqued somewhat, “You said somebody passed eight years ago, who was that? Just how uncommon is this?”

“That would be Cassius Graham! He’s a fine gentleman, last I heard he works directly with the first sea lord now!”, Kogo explains gleefully, “Before Graham I think the last ones were Birdie, Ackerly, and Fletcher, but they all came in twenty years or so ago during the war!”

“...Just four in twenty years?”

“Indeed!”, the Imp confirms, “A few people almost pass every year though, there were seven this season… though I suppose there is still time left in the day for more applicants, isn’t there?”

You nod absentmindedly, thinking over what the imp said as you go to the side room to change. Using a mirror in the tiny room you try your best to fix your frazzled blond hair and manage to make it look marginally less like you just survived a bomb going off. Dressed in the new and excellently fitted clothes you exit, and Kogo takes your ruined ones to dispose if them while you find a seat to rest on in the main room. The imp brings out tea and biscuits eventually, and you relax and enjoy them.

>Ask if there’s a place to actually get some sleep, you’re wiped out.
>Sit around waiting for Lisa and Frederick to show up.
>Just sleep in the chair, rest your head on the table or something.
>Speak with Kogo more. (suggest it)
>Write-in.
>>
>>3724686
>>Sit around waiting for Lisa and Frederick to show up.
>>
>>3724686
>>Ask if there’s a place to actually get some sleep, you’re wiped out.
Moving on.
>>
>>3724686
>Just sleep in the chair, rest your head on the table or something.
Rest...
>>
>>3724686
>Sit around waiting for Lisa and Frederick to show up
>>
>>3724686
>Ask if there’s a place to actually get some sleep, you’re wiped out
>>
>>3724686
>Sit around waiting for Lisa and Frederick to show up.
>>
>>3724686
>Ask if passing mans you won't get some more basic lessons or something
>Ask if there’s a place to actually get some sleep, you’re wiped out
>>
>>3724686
>ask for sleepy place
>>
After almost falling asleep in your chair you ask Kogo if there is somewhere to get some proper shut eye. You’re pleased almost beyond words to find out there is room with beds nearby, apparently used as a recovery area for applicants that are unconscious at the end of their examination. The imp leads you deeper into the pyramid, past the tailoring area, and into the recovery room. A few simple beds are lined up in a row along one wall in a similar style to an infirmary. You practically collapse onto the bed closest to the entrance, asleep in just a few moments after briefly getting situated.

Hours pass as you fade into the strange world of dreams, visions of events both true and imagined dancing through your mind. The farmhouse, Homeport, the academy - All of it is blurred together as the rules of geography and causality hold little sway. Travelling half-aware through this shifting dreamscape you scarcely notice its unreality, accepting what you behold and thinking nothing of it until it has already almost passed. Passersby wear faces both familiar and unknown, acting out events in which they do not belong before fading to nothing. A hand rests on your shoulder, extending out from swirling darkness, and a voice calls to you gently.

“Miss Ward, it’s time to wake up.”

You startle awake, hazy vision jerking about as you look around the room. A blond haired young man in blue robes stands by your bedside, his left arm half pulled back. He holds a small sealed scroll in his right hand, and steps back quickly from the bed as you begin to sit up. Lisa and Frederick are resting in the next two beds down the row, both asleep.

You rub your eyes and blink a few times, trying to clear your vision before stretching a little in an attempt to awaken fully - Some weariness remains but you’re feeling far better. Smiling you look to the young man, guessing he’s bringing good news about your application. Blushing he drops the scroll, fumbling for a bit before retrieving it and speaking, “The board, uhm, the board has...”

“Yes?”, you ask expectantly, hope rising in you.

“The board has come to a decision about your application.”, he manages to finally get out, looking embarrassed as he offers you the small scroll. You snatch it from him, opening it quickly and scanning over the text looking for a single phrase.
>>
>>3725586
“...in light of the results of your examination this board has decided to accept your application to the…”, you stop reading immediately, falling back onto the bed as a feeling of immense relief and joy sweeps over you. It’s done, you got in. You had suspected it wouldn’t be an issue after Kogo’s reaction to your passing of the examination, but seeing it on paper is something else entirely - It all just feels so much more real now.

>Enjoy the moment and just lay there for a bit, you did it!
>Hug the messenger, you’re so excited it’s difficult to contain it!
>Read the rest of the scroll.
>Get out of bed, you have an academy to explore!
>Write-in.
>>
>>3725587
>Read the rest of the scroll.
>>
>>3725587
>Read the rest of the scroll.
>>
>>3725587
>>Enjoy the moment and just lay there for a bit, you did it!
>>Read the rest of the scroll.
>>
>>3725587
>Enjoy the moment and just lay there for a bit, you did it!
>>
>>3725587
>>Hug the messenger, you’re so excited it’s difficult to contain it!
>>Read the rest of the scroll.
>>
>>3725587
>Read the rest of the scroll.
>Get out of bed, you have an academy to explore!
>>
You sit back up, grinning widely. Not wanting to miss any important details you read over the scroll more carefully. The hand it is written in is angled slightly, flowing and easily legible, black ink standing out clearly against the parchment. It’s introduction is a dull and straightforward statement of the messages purpose, a long explanation of the holistic evaluation method the board utilized when considering your application following shortly afterward. Letters of recommendation, government documentation of your childhood, attitude and ability displayed in the examination, aura rating - It’s very comprehensive, a couple of dozen factors outlined and their perceived importance explained. Moving further down the text you quickly get to the more interesting parts.

‘At the personal recommendation of head combat instructor Vogel, and in light of the results of your examination, this board has decided to accept your application to the academy. Effective immediately you are granted the rank of initiate, along with all of the privileges and duties it entails. Room and board within the pyramid, uniforms and arcane supplies, and a monthly stipend will be provided to you so long as you remain in good standing. As an initiate your potential for advanced and non-standard instruction has been rated as extremely high, and as such council member Fletcher has extended an invitation to the Imperial Order of Hecate as well as a sincere apology. Under normal circumstances such an invitation would warrant personal delivery, but ongoing events have drawn all members of the Order away from Homeport and the academy on short notice.’

You stop dead, staring at the words in disbelief and slight confusion. An Imperial Order? You’ve never heard of this one, but membership into an order isn’t something ever given out lightly. Admirals, generals, captains of industry - Those are the sorts that get invitations, men and women with a lifetime of service to the empire or who make exceptional efforts to support it. It doesn’t make sense that you would be given one while having achieved so much less, whatever potential you might have. Something is dreadfully amiss.

>Push the thought out of mind and celebrate, this is amazing news!
>Ask the messenger about the order, and what 'ongoing event' has drawn it away suddenly.
>Keep things to yourself for now. There is a lot of academy to get acquainted with right now, questions can come at a better time.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3725985
>Keep things to yourself for now. There is a lot of academy to get acquainted with right now, questions can come at a better time.
>>
>>3725985
>Push the thought out of mind and celebrate, this is amazing news!
>>
>>3725985
>Ask the messenger about the order, and what 'ongoing event' has drawn it away suddenly
>>
>>3725985
>Keep things to yourself for now. There is a lot of academy to get acquainted with right now, questions can come at a better time.
>>
>>3725985
>>Keep things to yourself for now. There is a lot of academy to get acquainted with right now, questions can come at a better time
>>
>>3725985
>>Ask the messenger about the order, and what 'ongoing event' has drawn it away suddenly
>>
Squinting your eyes you read that last part of the scroll again, and shake your head slightly as you roll it back up. It just doesn’t add up, some piece of context missing as you try to rationalize the invitation - Were you just misinformed about how the Orders work? It seems unlikely, your upbringing around Cape Laka exposed you to discussion of such things often enough. Service to the empire was upheld as a virtue on the farm, the state was both mother and father in a way, the Orders a shining example of the highest achievement in that pursuit. You set the nagging questions aside for now feeling it isn’t the time or place for them, bringing your focus back to the academy.

The messenger, still standing a bit back from the bed, watches with interest as you finish reading. He’s sort of cute in an odd way, long hair not something you see often on men, and is probably a year or so older than you judging by his robes.

“You got in?”, he asks, though it isn’t much of a question after your earlier reaction.

“I did.”, you answer proudly while getting out of the bed, stopping to adjust your outfit a bit as it wasn’t really intended to be slept in for what must have been several hours.

“Congratulations! That’s really great to hear,”, he says sounding relieved but still looking somewhat nervous, “they don’t tell me what the result is, and I always feel terrible if it ends up being bad news. How many parts did you pass on the exam?”

While collecting your satchel from the floor next to the bed you answer honestly, “Three, barely.”

“Oh, so your focus is probably on summoning then, right? I scraped by through body alteration and elemental control, summo-”

“I meant three full sections,” you interrupt to clarify as you store the scroll in your satchel, “not the smaller parts of them.”

He laughs at that a little, relaxing some, “A summoner and a joker then? That’s a dangerous combination, you know.”

“No, I mean it, I really did pass three of them.” you insist, giving him a just slightly annoyed look as you finish getting ready to leave. Normally you might try joking back, mess with him some, but the issue of the Order is hanging at the back of your mind.
>>
>>3726483

“What?”, he questions as the realization slowly dawns on him, “Y-you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Entirely.”, you state while glancing over to where Lisa and Frederick are still fast asleep on their own beds, both looking like they didn’t make it out of the testing while still conscious.

“Wow.”, he just stares for a moment before recovering, “That isn’t… that isn’t common. Did somebody tip you off about it?”

“Didn’t have a clue, just about killed me to get through it still conscious.”, you idly run a hand through your hair, wondering if everybody is going to react like this.

His eyes widen, “Y-you passed the martial section? Holy hell, how did you manage that? Vogel’s a monster, I didn’t think that was even possible.”

You shrug, “I ran away after she broke my arm, didn’t try to fight her after that.”, which isn’t really the whole story but you’re wanting to get moving.

“...I guess I’ll be seeing you around the council chambers a lot then. I’m Harper, I do a bunch of the messenger work they don’t use the portals for.”

“Nice meeting you Harper, but I’ve got a lot to attend to, have a room somewhere I need to find and a bunch of items to pick u-"

“I could show you around,” he offers interrupting as you start to go, “those two over there don’t look like they’ll be awake for awhile, so I’ve got the time.”

>Accept, a guide would probably be very helpful in navigating the academy. Might even have time to go back out into Homeport before it gets too late.
>Decline, some time to think and walk alone sounds better right now.
>Actually now that you think about it waiting a few rooms over until Lisa and Frederick wake up seems fine, Kogo probably has more tea available.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3726486
>Accept, a guide would probably be very helpful in navigating the academy. Might even have time to go back out into Homeport before it gets too late.
>>
>>3726486
>>Decline, some time to think and walk alone sounds better right now.
>>
>>3726486
>Accept, a guide would probably be very helpful in navigating the academy. Might even have time to go back out into Homeport before it gets too late.
>>
>>3726486
>Accept, a guide would probably be very helpful in navigating the academy. Might even have time to go back out into Homeport before it gets too late.
>>
>>3726486
>>Accept, a guide would probably be very helpful in navigating the academy. Might even have time to go back out into Homeport before it gets too late.
Do students live inside the academy?
>>
So we basically came in expecting to be a private and they offered us a commission?
>>
>>3726593
Most do, in the pyramid or the buildings around it in the walled grounds. The rest live in the ancient area of Homeport that is just outside of the academy's walls.
>>
>>3726501
>>3726530
>>3726569
>>3726593

“...That actually sounds rather nice, thank you. Know the academy well, I take it?”, you ask while starting to exit the room. Harper follows alongside, keeping pace comfortably.

“Yep! Been running for a few months now, messengers have to learn fast y’know? Instructors get sort of cranky if a scroll or card gets to them late, always complain the last one was faster.”

You nod and let out a small laugh, passing by Kogo who is busy making more clothes, “I understand entirely. Back home people were real sticklers about following the schedule down to the minute.”

“Home? You’re from, hmm…”, he contemplates for a moment as you walk before guessing, “...South Rhosera, right?”

“Yeah, Cape Laka actually. Is my accent really that strong?”, you worry aloud, seeing a pattern developing.

“Nah, a lot of the instructors are from the colonies so I’ve picked up an ear for it.”

“Oh, good.”, you say feeling somewhat reassured, “Second time somebody mentioned it today, was getting worried I sounded funny.”

“I never said you didn’t sound funny.”, he teases lightly before focusing back on his role as a guide, “So, where to first? I'll get us there in a jiffy.”

So, what first?

>Head up and further into the pyramid to check out your room.
>Go to the guard headquarters to get a more permanent identification card.
>Just tour the academy grounds more generally, get a sense of the layout of the forums and other old buildings.
>Get something to eat, you’ve had almost nothing all day.
>Go to the top of the outer wall, Homeport probably looks fantastic from there.

And what do you discuss as you walk?

>Harper, get to know him better.
>Yourself, he seemed interested.
>Homeport, find out more about what there is to do in the city.
>Academy training, learn more about normal instruction.
>The council, what are they like?
>Write-in.
>>
>>3726883
>Go to the guard headquarters to get a more permanent identification card.
>Homeport, find out more about what there is to do in the city.
>>
>>3726883
>>Go to the guard headquarters to get a more permanent identification card.
>>Homeport, find out more about what there is to do in the city.
>>
>>3726891
+1
>>
You choose to go to the guard headquarters and get a more permanent identification card first, feeling it the most pressing concern. Harper leads the way, and together you make your way out of the colossal polished limestone pyramid and into the academy grounds. It started raining again at some point while were asleep, and it's coming down in heavy sheets as you exit the pyramid’s western gate. Without an umbrella or robes to keep the worst of it off you the only way to stay dry is magic, and Harper politely uses his focus stone and a little air control to form a protective dome of air as you walk together through the storm - You could easily perform the feat yourself, but you’re still fairly tired from the day’s rather exhaustive activities and thankful for the kindness.

You discuss Homeport while walking, the rain scattering off of the almost invisible umbrella of air protecting you both. The huge city was a bewildering mess to navigate earlier in the morning after you hastily disembarked from the passenger liner, but the confusing layout of streets isn’t what you talk about - What interests you about the capital is the art, culture, and places of entertainment it holds, the things Laka never had. It is a city full of things to do and places to go, and after a life of dull farm-work the opportunities it presents are tantalizing. Music and dance halls, museums, restaurants, the great imperial hippodrome and zoo, the royal palace and senate buildings, so many sites to see you couldn’t begin to speak of them all. Harper proves a good partner for conversation, the initial nervousness he displayed earlier long gone now, and he’s familiar enough with many of the city’s interesting places to answer quite a few of your questions.

>Feel free to ask some about parts of the city.
>>
>>3727235

Soon you find yourself across the academy grounds, the great stone bulk of the Pyramid Guard’s headquarters in front of you. It connects to the base of the gargantuan outer wall, built directly into it. The grey rain slick exterior of the building resembles a temple more than the headquarters of a paramilitary organization, monolithic fluted pillars of cut stone supporting a great angled roof of impressive design. Two guards, both in their odd outdated uniforms, are posted at the large double door entrance and watch as you approach.

Out of the obscuring concealment of the torrential downpour four more guards come into sight as you and Harper climb the stairs leading to the headquarter’s entrance, and they’re dragging an unconscious man in a dark suit between them. Yet another set of guards is following closely behind the first group, their short bolt action carbines held in their hands instead of slung on their backs as they escort the prisoner. Stepping aside to allow them to pass you get a close look at the guards and prisoner, all are absolutely soaked and look to have gone through quite a fight - Darkening bruises on their faces, uniforms stained with blood in some places, one guard even sporting a few deep round dents on his cuirass.

>Ask one of the guards what is going on, this looks like a troublesome development.
>Just carry on to the area they make the identification cards at, this isn’t your problem.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3727238
>Just carry on to the area they make the identification cards at, this isn’t your problem

>>3727235
A quick rundown on the broader districts, with some highlights of high culture and history will suffice
>>
>>3727238
>>Just carry on to the area they make the identification cards at, this isn’t your problem.

None of our business. And also because I want to ask a question and it seems like it'd be awkward to ask it mid-plot development, considering how the entries flow.

>"So, you folks don't happen to do anything like kite racing around here, do you? I'm not a speed junkie, but I do like races. Back in the day we rode kites and sometimes some of the braver of us would see how fast we could fly laps..."

Apologies if I'm stepping on toes/making backstory that I shouldn't.
>>
>>3727235
what are the places I have to know and places of interest for a mage?
So how's the cuisine here? Best places to eat?
Where are the Naval quarters? I always feel at home near war ships and marines
And also ask this>>3727244

>>3727238
>Just carry on to the area they make the identification cards at, this isn’t your problem.
Another quick question, do we get an allowance from the academy?
>>
>>3727238
>Just carry on to the area they make the identification cards at, this isn’t your problem.
>>
>>3727288
>Another quick question, do we get an allowance from the academy?
Yes in a letter they wrote that we will receive a stipend
>>
>>3727238
>>Just carry on to the area they make the identification cards at, this isn’t your problem.
>>
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>>3727244
Alright, need to actually explain a bit of geography for the districts and layout to even begin to make sense.

Homeport is located on the southern coast of the peninsula of Durland, and nestled within the peninsula’s large Archon bay. Archon bay is fed by the waters of the wide and deep Barrath river which flows in from the north east, and the bay contains the islands of Wesnan (100~ sq mi) and Easnan (70~ sq mi) which are separated from the bay coast and one another by significant tidal straits. Homeport sprawls across these islands and the bay coast, and stretches far inland especially along the Barrath. Smaller islands dot the straits, several serving as anchoring points for combined bascule suspension bridges to connect the islands and mainland. The coast of the ‘Nan islands, Archon bay, and Barrath river are home to massive harbors and shipyards. Both the far eastern and western sides of Archon bay’s mouth jut out and wrap back in on it, and they are covered in extensive coastal defense batteries built and continuously updated since the last portal invasion. The southern side of Wesnan is home to the second largest Imperial Navy shore facility, the uncreatively named but very impressive Wesnan Naval Base - A few of the navy’s new battlecruisers are based there currently. The city’s population is somewhere between nine and eleven million, depending on where you define its outer boundaries.

Homeport is made up of dozens of administrative districts, but in terms of culture, trade, and history of the city, Homeport can be very broadly split between three areas:

‘Oldhalf’ is in the far north east of the city, running along the eastern bank of the Barrath. It is dominated by the walled academy and to a lesser degree the imperial hippodrome, and almost all of the buildings here date from the first or second empire with the exception of the academy pyramid which predates both. Ancient guildhalls, fortified mages residences, arcane workshops, and other remnants of past ages fill the area and have adapted to survive in the modern era. Despite its name Oldhalf has not been half of Homeport for close to three centuries, now closer in size to a thirtieth of it.

The Imperial district is larger than and immediately opposite of Oldhalf, on the western side of the Barrath and built over demolished ruins of the second empire. It is home to vast government offices, wealthy residences, elaborate memorials to triumphant military victories, and important financial and mercantile institutions like Boyd’s of Homeport and the Homeport stock exchange. The walled fortress of the royal palace is located in the center of the district, on an island in a small man-made lake, and the imperial diet and senate buildings rest on the coast near it. The Imperial art and history museum was recently completed, and the Homeport opera house is famous across the empire for its amazing acoustics.
>>
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>>3727244 continued.

‘Newhalf’ is basically everything else: the vast residential, commercial, and industrial sprawl of modern Homeport. The name is an almost dismissive label for the huge area by the people of Oldhalf - actual residents use the district names. Newhalf is comprised of dozens of districts which seem to often follow their own sort of bizarre moon logic for street layout - Or at least to Catherine it felt that way earlier. The ‘Nan islands and area south along the bay coast are more densely populated than the north, and both Wesnan and the western half of the city in general tend toward being poorer than the east. Most of Newhalf is undergoing electrification at a very rapid rate, which is changing how the whole city looks at night in interesting ways.

>>3727247
Answering this as Harper would since it was phrased as dialogue.

“There’s actually an entire flying club! I thought about joining it a few months ago but then the council offered me some messenger work and one thing led to another… and that sort of killed the idea, don’t usually have time to practice anymore. They have races and aerobatics competitions once a month though, gunnery spotters from the army and navy join in most of the time too. Usually they have them out over the bay where a lot of people can watch, draws big crowds.”

>>3727288
Places of interest and should already be mostly covered in the horrifying text dump, and ones specific for mages are mostly within the academy - the pyramid is probably the most magically important place in the world. Cuisine is broadly western-european but many other kinds are around due to the empires vast number of colonies. The ‘best’ place to eat is Barret’s, in the Imperial district. Harper’s favorite place though a small cafe just outside of the southern academy wall in Oldhalf, Esme’s Table. As >>3727419 said Catherine receives a monthly stipend.
>>
You carry on into the headquarters building after the bloodied guards finish moving the prisoner through, choosing not to bother them. Whatever it is that happened to put them all in that state isn’t your business or problem right now, and they’d probably dislike being interrupted anyways.

Harper looks bothered by what he saw, his pace slowing to a stop as you enter the huge buildings main hall, “What do you think that was about?”

Shaking your head you answer, “No idea, but it doesn’t really matter, looks like they had it handled. The card stuff is all just at the front desk, right?”

He seems to be lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to awareness, “Huh? Oh, yeah. Come on, shouldn’t take long.”

“Lead the way.”, you say, gesturing for him to keep moving.

The main hall of the Pyramid Guard headquarters would’ve been very impressive six hours ago, but you’ve been seeing so many marvels of architecture and art that it hardly even phases you at this point. Patterned marble floors fill the area, a mural of the guard coat of arms displayed prominently on it just beyond the entrance doors, and decorated pillars support an arched ceiling three stories high. At the far side two sets of stairs flank a large statue of triumphant looking spear wielding guard, and lead up to the second level. A bored looking black haired young secretary is sitting behind a desk at the front of the hall, smoking a cigarette and reading over some papers. She looks up from her dull work before giving a small wave which Harper returns.

“Heya Harps, who’s that with ya?”, she asks in an odd drawl.

Cheerfully he starts to respond, “New initiate, passed all thr-”

“I’m Catherine!”, you interrupt hastily, introducing yourself before he can derail things by mentioning the examination. Harper glances at you in very mild surprise, obviously caught off guard by your sudden enthusiasm.

The secretary doesn’t seem at all bothered by the interruption, flashing a little smirk at Harper before turning to you, “Nice to meetcha, Cat, like the attitude. I’m Clementine. So you here for a card or what?”

You nod, removing the paper board card you were given earlier from your satchel and handing it over to the secretary. She looks it over, brown eyes scanning through the details quickly, and her expression grows contemplative. You feel your perception stretch for a moment before rebounding back, aura examined without warning.

You blink, not having been ready for that, “Is something wrong?”

“...Nah, nothin’ to worry about.”, she says eventually, “Just been gettin’ a lot of A’s and up is all.”

“Well that’s good, isn’t it? ”, Harper asks.
>>
>>3729239
“‘Spose it is.” she sighs and shakes her head slightly, setting the card down on the desk. Opening a drawer she pulls out a wooden card of roughly the same size, and uses a bit of fire and air control to draw out a tendril of flame from her cigarette. Pointing with a pair of ringed fingers she guides it in burning clear, neat print into the wood with careful little motions. She blows a bit of smoke off of it before handing it to you. As you take it from her you feel your perception flex again, much more sharply this time, just before she lets go of the card.

“There ya go, imprinted and everythin’.”

>Depart politely and head back out into the storm to continue touring the academy.
>”Where are you from? Accent is hard to place.”
>”So you both know each other I take it?”
>”Imprinted?”
>”...Doesn’t sound like you actually mean that. What’s wrong with strong auras?”
>Write-in.
>>
>>3729242
>>”Where are you from? Accent is hard to place.”

>Depart politely and head back out into the storm to continue touring the academy.
>>
>>3729293
>>3729242
This
>>
>>3729293
>>3729242
Gonna go ahead and cast my vote for this
>>
“Thanks.”, you reply, pretty sure you understand what she did to it. Looking over the card it has all of the same information as the previous one, the only notable difference being ‘Initiate’ in place of ‘Applicant’ in the rank cell. It’s a light red wood of some kind, the black burnt text standing out starkly.

While putting the card away in your satchel you find yourself the one asking about another’s accent for once, “So where are you from? I can’t quite place the accent.”

“Olumbria,” she answers in affirmative while glancing back to her papers briefly, “out west ways real, real far.”

“Frontier?”, you question, having read a few serials set in that region before. Fighting off natives and braving the dangers of an untamed land used to sound exciting to you, but after the mutiny the stories lost some of their charm and you haven’t touched them since.

She nods slightly, “Somethin’ close, not too different to lots of Rhosera I reckon.”

You sigh, still a touch self-conscious and unsure of exactly how distinctive your accent really is, “Accent give it away that easily?”

“Nah, read the card.”, she says amused, tapping the old paper board one on the desk lightly with a slender finger.

“Oh! That makes sense. Didn’t even think about it.”, you respond, feeling a little silly for missing something that obvious.

“Most don’t, generally thinkin’ about somethin’ else instead of the card.”, she reassures you before asking, “That everythin’ ya needed?”

“Yeah, guess it’s back out into the storm for us.”, you respond, double checking to make sure your satchel is closed properly.

“Well it was fine meetin’ ya Cat, and seein’ ya too Harps.”, she says before giving Harper a sly look, “Don’t go gettin’ hit by lightnin’ out there again, alright?”

Harper rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed at the comment, “Heh, yeah. Don’t uh, don't plan on it. See you around, Em.”

Exiting the large front entrance of the guard headquarters you’re quickly back out in the rain, which if anything got even worse in the few minutes you were inside. Cracking lightning and the boom of thunder have joined the torrential downpour, and the clouds overhead are dark and heavy making the day seem much later than it is. Harper creates a protective umbrella of air once more and leads you to the next place you wanted to see.
>>
>>3729973
>Head back to the pyramid and find your room there.
>Tour about the academy grounds more generally, the ancient buildings are very striking in the heavy rain.
>Get something to eat, you’ve had almost nothing all day and this storm is looking really bad. Best to get inside.
>Go to the top of the outer wall, Homeport probably looks fascinating during a storm like this.
>Write-in.

And during the walk you talk about...

>Yourself, he seemed interested earlier.
>Harper, get to know him better.
>Clementine, and whatever that was about Harper being hit by lightning.
>Academy training, learn more about normal instruction.
>The council, what are they like?
>Write-in.
>>
>>3729974
>Get something to eat, you’ve had almost nothing all day and this storm is looking really bad. Best to get inside.
>Harper, get to know him better.
>>
>>3729974
>Get something to eat, you’ve had almost nothing all day and this storm is looking really bad. Best to get inside.
>Harper, get to know him better.
>>
>>3729999
Support
>>
Feeling peckish and wanting to get out of the storm you ask, “Is there somewhere nearby to get something to eat? I’m getting a bit light headed, missed breakfast and lunch earlier.”

“Sure, I actually haven’t had much either.”, he agrees before pointing off across the grounds with his right hand, “Commissary is on the other side of the grounds, but we can probably slip through the alumni forum. Doubt anybody’s using it in this weather.”

Together you travel along the smoothed stone pathways of the academy grounds, keeping a careful pace as they are very slick with rain. Visibility has gone from bad to absolutely horrid, academy buildings shrouded heavily in grey by the downpour, and the wind has grown in strength considerably forcing you to both use air control to carry onward normally - Altogether it’s almost as bad as some of the cyclones that hit Laka. Homeport gets rain fairly frequently, but this doesn’t seem like a common storm at all. A few other people are struggling through the storm with air domes of their own, but the grounds are mostly empty as everyone else has gone into buildings.

“So where are you from? I didn’t ask earlier.”, you ask loudly, the sound of the storm difficult to hear much over. Thunder booms in the distance.

Harper raises his voice to match, “Atfield, it’s a town just north of here. Why do you ask?”

“Just making conversation”, you reply while moving around a rapidly growing puddle that has collected on the pathway, “Is it nice there?”

“Nicer than this weather.”, he responds jokingly while maneuvering around it as well, “Not much happens there, used to be a lot of farms but most of those are gone now.”

“Factories move in?”, you ask, quickening your pace slightly as a copse of trees in one of the academy green areas provides a bit of cover from the intense rain.

He nods, but is obviously focused on his air control, “Yeah, same old story as most places around Homeport. Can we wait until we get inside to talk?”

“Absolutely not, the storm wins if we give up.”, you declare defiantly, bracing yourself as the wind picks up again as you pass by the cover of the trees. Thunder booms again in the distance, several times.

He laughs, stepping over a stream that has begun to form over part of the pathway from surface runoff, “I don’t think that’s how that works!”

“Navy would disagree.”, you comment, before moving the conversation back to him, “So what’s your focus? You mentioned flying before.”

“I did, yeah. Was planning on elemental control, but when the council pic-”, he stops for a moment, interrupted by even more thunder.

“...When the council picked me to be a messenger I found out pretty fast I’m a lot better at body alteration.”, he continues his explanation, “Helps keep up the pace when running, and I found I really enjoyed healing and medicine.”
>>
>>3730201

“There a lot of healing as a messenger? They don’t have you dodging through trapped hallways in the pyramid or something, right?”

“Ha! No, nothing like that, I was just practicing so much with strengthening myself tha-”, he’s cut off again by thunder, which rolls one shaking boom after another this time for about ten seconds, “Holy hell, this storm!... As I was saying though, I got good enough with strengthening that I wanted to try out healing, and took a few lessons at the academy clinic. They’re always packed, need whatever help they can get with the city growing like it is, and it turned out I just really enjoyed it. Helping people out when they really need it, y’know?”

Another long bout of thunder drowns out conversation as you continue to push across the grounds, the protective cover and shortcut of the large alumni forum just ahead of you.

>”What the hell is with the weather? I’m guessing it's not like this often?”
>”We should get inside, come on!”
>”That’s very noble of you. So they just let any students help out?”
>Stop and listen more closely.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3730204
>”We should get inside, come on!”
>>
>>3730204
>>”What the hell is with the weather? I’m guessing it's not like this often?”
>>
>>3730204
>>”What the hell is with the weather? I’m guessing it's not like this often?”
>>
>>3730204
>”What the hell is with the weather? I’m guessing it's not like this often?”
>>
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>>3730211
>>3730215
>>3730360

“What the hell is with the weather?”, you shout to be heard by Harper over the thunder, “I’m guessing it’s not like this often?”

“No, it’s not, this is the worst I’ve ever seen it!”, he yells back, both of you stumbling briefly as the gusts of winds and rain intensify without warning before you can adapt your air control, “Forecast didn’t mention this at all!”

“How often is it wrong?!”, you question loudly, annoyance and anger with this freak weather growing rapidly. Motes of mana are washing off of your focus stone in waves as you reinforce the barrier, thoughts intent on keeping it strong enough that you won’t be caught off guard by the wind again. Terrible weather isn’t a new problem to you, as a flyer you learned to deal with it well, and you push onward to the edge of the forum complex.

“...Almost never, or-”, he shouts before another round of thunder starts up suddenly, “or at least not this wrong, somebody should’ve seen this thing coming!”

“Always a first time for everything!”, you comment angrily, the pair of you briefly flaring up the barrier even further to push through staggeringly strong winds being funneled by one of the forum buildings pillared exteriors. With a final effort you reach the building’s double doored entrance, and struggle inside it - The doors slam shut violently after you enter, the wind forcing them closed. Looking around you take stock of the room, a colorful atrium which seems to have slid right out of antiquity and into the modern day with the small exception of a reinforced glass pane skylight to seal it from the elements. It’s probably a residence kept available for visiting alumni to stay in, or maybe an instructor's home.

“Seems deserted.”, Harper notes while letting his air control fade away, “Like I said earlier we should be able to just hop from building to building for awhile, forum will get us most of the way to the commis-”

The ground shakes violently for several seconds, an enormous building rattling explosion almost knocking you both off balance entirely. The skylight doesn’t shatter thankfully, and after recovering for a few moments you’re both fully steadied.

>”What the hell was that explosion!?”
>”Lets keep going, if I’m going to have to deal with the storm of the bloody century I want to do it with a full stomach!”
>”Do you know where the forecasters work? I’m going to need to throttle them when this is done.”
>”I think we should just head to the pyramid, I’m not sure the smaller buildings are safe.”
>Look around the building for other people.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3730560
>”I think we should just head to the pyramid, I’m not sure the smaller buildings are safe.”
>>
>>3730560
>>”What the hell was that explosion!?”
>>
>>3730560
>>Look around the building for other people.
>>
>>3730560
>”What the hell was that explosion!?”
>>
“What the hell was that explosion!?”, you cry out, supporting yourself on a wall as the ground stops shaking. Dust is falling from the ceiling, and a few small decorative statues in the atrium have fallen over onto the tile floor. One of them depicting a female representation of the great spirit Vexa breaks, the statue’s extended marble left arm breaking off at the shoulder.

“N-no idea! Are you alright?”, Harper questions while looking terrified, blonde hair tousled about and arms bracing against an inner doorway.

You nod after making sure you weren’t wounded without noticing, composing yourself and brushing some of the fallen dust off of your clothes, “I’m fine, I’m fine, you?”

“I think s-so.”, he answers unsteadily while moving over to you, “It sounded, uh, far away though… I think? I don’t think that was lightning.”

“It couldn’t have been lightning.”, you agree, stepping away from the wall a step and glancing over the room, “...The glass didn’t break, and the walls are still fine. I don’t think it was inside of the academy grounds.”

“Maybe a factory blew up?”, Harper offers out, not sounding sure of the idea at all. He’s keeping his focus stone gripped tightly. Thunder can still be heard muffled through the walls, rapid and almost steady in its intervals. Occasionally a larger crash of lightning can be heard among the cacophony.

“What, from lightning?”, you ask, struggling to quickly think of something that could detonate like that.

“Maybe a chemical plant? I’ve got n…”, he stops as the building shakes again, another massive shockwave from a far off explosion passing through. Both of you handle it better this time, not needing as much support from the wall to stay standing. The light coming in through the skylight begins changing, already dim due to the heavy rain and dark cloud coverage, and it slowly turns a deep shade of blue.

Harper stares at the shaft of azure light, dumbstruck.

>Look up through the skylight, and stay inside the building for now.
>”We need to get to the pyramid, whatever is going on is bad. Really bad.”
>”We need to get to the wall, it has a good view of the city. Maybe we can figure out what this is.”
>”Come on Harper, stay with me. We need to get moving, find someone that knows whats going on.”
>Write-in.
>>
>>3730942
>”We need to get to the pyramid, whatever is going on is bad. Really bad.”
>>
>>3730942
>>”We need to get to the wall, it has a good view of the city. Maybe we can figure out what this is.”
And if it's really fucking bad we can assist in defending the wall!

On a second though the gates are probably left open which means walls are useless
>”We need to get to the pyramid, whatever is going on is bad. Really bad.”
>>
>>3730942
>>”We need to get to the pyramid, whatever is going on is bad. Really bad.”

Also, getting FFX opening vibes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVfLTGgDem0
>>
The azure light fills the atrium, reflecting off of the central fountain’s rippling water in flowing ghostly patterns that dance across the walls and ceiling. Harper’s gaze is fixed solely on the light, as if it were the only thing in the world. The muffled sound of rain has stopped entirely, the ever present noise of the torrential downpour simply gone in a moment, leaving behind a heavy silence disturbed only by the faintest echo of thunder.

“We need to get to the pyramid, whatever is going on is bad. Really bad.”, you say, fear beginning to creep into your voice. The storm isn’t natural. None of this is.

“The light, it’s…”, Harper finally manages to speak in almost a whisper while reaching toward it, “It’s from mana. All of it.”

Extending your senses you can first feel it as tingling pressure across your body, and then see it too as your eyes adjust - Motes of mana, thousands of them spilling through the skylight’s pale beam, tiny specks of blue brilliance swirling about. It isn’t a focused spell, you realize as a chill moves up your spine, it’s just spill over - Mere bleed off from whatever magic called it forth.

You grab Harper’s shoulder, shaking him back to his senses, “The pyramid, Harper. We need to go. Now.”

“W-what? Oh. Oh! The pyramid, t-that makes sense! It should be safe.”, he stutters out, only just now breaking his gaze from the light.

For a moment you feel intense apprehension as you turn to the door, only able to guess at what might lay beyond it, but you set the feeling aside. Hesitation won’t do any good now. Motioning for Harper to stay close you open one of the doors slowly, no wind pushing against it anymore to resist the effort, and step out in the pale blue light washing over the forum complex and the rest of the academy grounds.

The sky is a great dome of the darkest blue, almost black in many places, an enormous field of arcane energy spreading out from a coherent beam of mana projected high into the air from the very tip of the pyramid. The dome of mana connects to the top of the massive circular outer wall, as if it were merely one enormous spell circle, sealing the entirety of the academy from the outside world. Rain, lightning, wind - All of it is stopped by the shield, the water pouring over its outer surface darkening it almost completely. The shield ripples as nine great blasts part the obscuring water almost simultaneously in a dispersed pattern along its south side, detonating against the surface of the barrier on contact in brief fiery explosions. Nothing gets through, but another salvo comes in shortly offset by a few hundred yards, and then another.
>>
>>3731436

You say nothing, words fleeing your mind at the sight of it for several moments. As you finally look back down you see there are other mages exiting from buildings around the grounds, some running to the wall or pyramid but most utterly confused and in awe of the otherworldly display of power. A platoon of pyramid guards run past and toward the outer wall, none stopping to stare, several of them carrying components and belts of ammo for a bulky water-cooled machinegun. Another platoon follows shortly, their commander shouting orders.

The pyramid. You have to get to the pyramid. It's the only thought in your mind as you and Harper begin running down the still slick paths toward it, it’s reflective limestone exterior showing every distortion of light from the dome as it is struck by the continuing barrage.

Staccato cracks of gunfire interspersed with screams echo out from behind an ancient stone building on the path ahead of you, memories of the mutiny come pouring back, and you...

>Continue to the pyramid on a direct path.
>Try to find another path to the pyramid to avoid the fighting.
>Move to intervene immediately, somebody needs help!
>Move to intervene carefully, finding a place to scout the fight from first.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3731438
>Try to find another path to the pyramid to avoid the fighting.
>>
>>3731438
>Move to intervene immediately, somebody needs help!
>Shit, gotta get the kids, gotta make sure everyone's safe, shit, where's the caretakers we need to keep moving, get to safety...

In short we have PTSD and we're having an event that's not entirely unhelpful but still kinda unhelpful.
>>
>>3731438
>Write-in.
>Find Lisa and Frederick they must be weakened an utterly confused.
>>
>>3731438
>>Move to intervene carefully, finding a place to scout the fight from first.
This isn't our first rodeo, no need to rush in and get our head blown off
>>
>>3731493
>>3731614
Two different sorts of 'go to the pyramid'.

>>3731498
>>3731673
Two different sorts of 'go fight them'.

I need some sort of vague consensus, the choices and their sub-variants could have quite large consequences so I'd really prefer to not just roll it.
>>
>>3731673
supporting
>>
>Move to intervene carefully, finding a place to scout the fight from first.

You slow your run to a stop and begin taking stock of the situation, listening closely to the sounds of fighting coming from behind the far side of the building ahead of you. It’s a large multi-leveled villa in the style of the first empire, student housing probably, with a heavy tiled roof and many stone arches along the base supporting the higher levels. In the ethereal blue light cast by the great arcane dome the villa’s shadows are few but quite heavy and dark, starkly contrasting against the rest of the building. The combat sounds intense but still fairly small, maybe just a few people on each side, but it seems to be growing.

Harper comes to a stop a few moments after you do, looking shaken as he asks, “Are we going around it?”

“No, we’re going to fight.”, you declare while getting a tighter grip on your focus stone, looking for a good path to scout out the battle from, “Follow me, up those stairs. I want a better look.”

“Us? Fight? They have guns, and I’m no-”, he starts to protest before a particularly loud pained cry from the far of the villa interrupts him and seems to change his mind, “...Alright. Lets go, somebody needs help.”

“I’ve done this before, just stay close.”, you order him, pushing onward. He follows alongside, glancing about the area as you move, scanning for potential threats.

Together you move up the villa’s outer stairs and onto its third and smallest level, crossing through a loggia to the far side. Peering from cover you can see the combat below clearly from the high vantage point, a small group of pyramid guard are pinned behind an arched stone wall running across one of the academy’s green areas. Among the trees of the green area there are men in dark uniforms and black armor, half-plate of some kind that looks even more out of date than the pyramid guard’s does, firing short rifles of their own. The fight looks messy, like both sides stumbled on one another on accident and haven’t been able to withdraw to better positions, and a few of them are engaging in melee with bayonets on the muddy turf.

Among the trees is something far more disturbing than the battle itself, a sight that freezes you both for a moment. A portal of swirling purple and black large enough to drive a car through stands wavering among the trees, another black armored soldier emerging from it sending ripples across its surface. The outer wall must have a breach somewhere, and there’s no mistaking what this means.
>>
>>3731962

“Invaders.”, Harper whispers in disbelief, “Its another invasion.”

>Use your air cushion spell to drop down a and join the fighting on the ground, trying to flank the invaders and break their disorganized line.
>Use some improvised air control to pull one of the fallen rifles up to your vantage point and start shooting, officers first if you can find them.
>Ask if Harper knows how to close a portal, you’ve never done it and it needs to be stopped before spirits start coming through.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3731963
>Use some improvised air control to pull one of the fallen rifles up to your vantage point and start shooting, officers first if you can find them.
>>
>>3731963
>>Use some improvised air control to pull one of the fallen rifles up to your vantage point and start shooting, officers first if you can find them.
>>
>>3731996
>+Ask Harper if he can do something about portal if no tell him to do medic things.
>>
>>3731963
>>Use some improvised air control to pull one of the fallen rifles up to your vantage point and start shooting, officers first if you can find them.
>>
>>3731963
>>Use some improvised air control to pull one of the fallen rifles up to your vantage point and start shooting, officers first if you can find them.
Shame we don't have any oil or the like to make some barbecue or turn the portal into fireplace
>>
>>3731963
>Use some improvised air control to pull one of the fallen rifles up to your vantage point and start shooting, officers first if you can find them.
To Arms!
>>
Rolled 31, 1 = 32 (2d100)

>>3732093
>>3732088
>>3732083
>>3732038
>>3731996
Alright, yoinking the rifle with air it is. Lets get some rolls.
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>3732175
I hope that second roll isn't for guards
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>3732175
Time for the truest magic, Gun
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>3732175
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>3732192
It wasn't.

>>3732199
>90 vs. 1
Gun magic proves its worth once again.

Rolling for Harper now.
>>
It takes a moment to find something to say, gaze fixed on the portal despite the discomfort is causes, “...Then you know what we have to do. Follow my lead, I’m going to get us some rifles.”

Leaning out a bit more from the cover of the loggia’s stone column you extend your focus stone wielding hand, spot a pair of rifles near fallen pyramid guards, and send them gusting up toward your position on the villa with a focused mental push and some hasty air control. It isn’t a graceful flight, and they clatter into the wall behind you rather violently, but no one in the combat below seems to have taken notice of the loud sound or mana the spell left behind - Gunfire and the arcane dome covering the academy are apparently very good distractions. Picking up the two carbines from the floor you inspect them quickly, both are loaded and seem undamaged by the landing, and hand one to Harper who holds it quite awkwardly.

“I, uh... I don’t know how to shoot.”, he admits sheepishly, “I’ve never needed to before.”

“No time to learn now then, just lay it there, I’ll use it when this one runs out.”, you say, speaking quickly while scanning the area for choice targets, “Can you strengthen me or close a portal?”

“Strengthen, definitely. Portal…”, he considers the idea for a moment,” ...Maybe? They have them in the pyramid, used the-.”

“I’ll take that as a yes for both then.”, you say while backing up a step from the pillar and finding an angle that leaves as little of your body exposed while still keeping sight of the battle, “Keep me steady, watch my back. We’ll deal with the portal later.”

He nods as you begin taking aim, and uses some of his magic to strengthen you - It isn’t much help, but this is his first real fight. The pyramid guards down below in the battle still haven’t rallied, rapidly becoming outnumbered as every few seconds another invader comes running out of the portal. The invaders though, for all their numbers, are still quite disorganized and many of them are very exposed. Lacking many choices for cover or concealment several more have closed into melee with a few of the guards, and the black armored soldiers appear to be losing that clash badly. You spot an invader that is shouting orders to the others, one of the few well concealed by a large tree.
>>
>>3732596

...Well concealed from the guards anyways.

Shifting your aim to the officers head you wait half a moment and squeeze the trigger. The concussion and noise is immense in the semi-enclosed loggia, the recoil of the carbine fierce for its size. The officer collapses mid shout, never to speak again. The man next to him takes a moment to register what happened, by which time you’ve already worked the bolt. He goes down too as your carbine barks, the shot taking him just below the chin. You work the bolt again, shift aim, fire, and repeat. Two more soldiers are down, but a fifth survives as in a slight surprise his breastplate deflects the bullet.

You grab the second gun from the floor, and continue your unseen assault - They haven’t figured out your position on the villa’s third floor yet, too focused on the guards and probably assuming the hits are coming from them, and their attempts to reposition often leave them even more exposed to your shots. The lucky invader stops being lucky, the new carbine’s first round finding its way through a thinner section of his armor. You keep firing until the new gun is empty, wounding three more invaders. The pyramid guards seem to be recovering the initiative now, the enemy losses freeing up their ability to move.

The portal starts to ripple again, but nothing has come through yet. Elsewhere the dome continues to be bombarded, the massive thuds of the explosions heard even in the din of the gun-battle.

>Press the attack, join the battle on the ground with a flanking attack with air magic.
>Hold position, pull another gun up and keep firing. This is still working.
>Sneak around the invaders and try to have Harper close the portal while the guards keep them busy.
>Oh my, an officer’s saber! I wonder what air magic could do with that?
>Write-in.
>>
>>3732597
>>Sneak around the invaders and try to have Harper close the portal while the guards keep them busy.
>>
>>3732597
We should've went with third option >>3724127
>>
>>3732597
I wonder what would happen if we ended up sending fireball through the portal
Would they close it?
>Press the attack, join the battle on the ground with a flanking attack with air magic.
>Get another gun anyway
>>
>>3732597
>Sneak around the invaders and try to have Harper close the portal while the guards keep them busy.
We want to help but we don't want to die, means we should probably stay on the sidelines
Plus Harper seems to have zero combat experience and is therefor a massive liability in a direct confrontation
>>
>>3732597
>Sneak around the invaders and try to have Harper close the portal while the guards keep them busy
Gee I love shooting people!
>>
Rolled 66, 57, 33 = 156 (3d100)

>>3732607
>>3732821
>>3732848
Sneaking it is, lets have some rolls.

My rolls are guards, invaders, and Harper, in that order.
>>
Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>3733035
Harper...
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>3733035
Harper, you kinda suck yo. No wonder you work in the mail room.
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>3733035
>>
“I think that should have them off balance for awhile,” you comment dryly, observing the effects of your marksmanship while pulling back further into cover in the loggia, “We should move while we can, that portal needs to go or they’ll just keep pouring in.”

“Holy hell, where did you learn to shoot like that?”, he exclaims in disbelief, standing a bit too far in the open looking at the battle before you practically drag him back into cover with you.

“The farm, caretakers got mad if we wasted ammunition dealing with pests so we learned not to.”, you explain briefly while moving to find a good place to drop down to the lower levels from, neglecting to mention how much of that shooting was just terrible luck on the part of the invaders. Probably best to not shake Harper’s nerve more than it has been already. He follows closely behind you, and together you use some air control to drop down from the villa’s levels one by one, reaching the ground quickly. The portal still hasn’t disgorged whatever is causing it to waver and ripple.

Focus stone in hand again you use a bit of air control to try to muffle both of your footsteps, explaining the basic plan in a low voice while hurrying along through deep shadows cast by the villa in the bright mana light, “We’ll go around the back, it didn’t look like anybody was covering it. Get to the portal, close it as fast as you can, I’ll keep them busy if they notice. Got it?”

He nods, trying to put on a brave face as you both stop behind a few bushes and get ready to run for it, “Got it.”

“Lets go!”, you urge him as well as you can without raising your voice. The noise of the fighting is loud, overbearing, and with your mostly muffled footsteps and well chosen route getting within ten yards or so of the portal is surprisingly easy. The guards have gained some organization and initiative back by now, and though reeling from their losses the surviving invaders are putting up a better if still disorganized fight - All in all they’re badly distracted, which is exactly what you needed. You pick up one of the invader’s strange rifles from the ground, some sort of bulky magazine fed straight-pull pig of a gun that has stamped metal instead of wooden furniture, and try to familiarize yourself with it for a couple of seconds while Harper moves to the rear of the portal.

Harper kneels a few yards from the purple black portal, extends his right arm with focus stone in hand, and lets out a torrent of concentrated mana into the vortex’s swirling surface. For several moments it looks as if it will work, until the blue beam slowly flickers out. Immediately he starts to try again, taking a deep breath and refocusing, readying a more potent disruption.
>>
>>3733804

He doesn’t get the chance to try, as the portal’s rippling ceases and it finally transports the next invader. A hulking behemoth of a man, over eight feet tall and covered from head to toe in even more intimidatingly heavy fluted black plate, exits from the other side of the portal. He is not carrying a gun of any kind, instead wielding a massive two-handed wooden club with rows of round metal studs running along its cylindrical length. You’ve never seen a weapon like it before, but the fact that the larger stud at the tip is aglow with mana makes its purpose as a focus clear enough.

Shots from the guards deflect off of the huge invader’s armor harmlessly as he looks around, calmly ignoring their attacks while taking in the environment and getting a read on the battle. First he looks ahead to the guards at the arched wall, then left and right to check his flanks among the trees of the green zone, and then behind the portal itself to see Harper.

For a second he just stares at Harper through the many slits of his helmet’s visor, and Harper stares back frozen in fear. The moment passes, and the enormous man begins to cry out a challenge.

“I AM BARON VON EHRENSTEIN!”, the massive armored man shouts in almost a roar while adjusting his grip on the club, “PREPARE YOURSELF, MAGE.”

His accent is oddly familiar.

>Start shooting and don’t stop! Visor slits, armor joints, anything that looks vulnerable gets a bullet!
>Drop the rifle, air blast in as fast as you can like you did in the test, and try to get Harper out of there. Run for it!
>Charge out from cover and slug him with the combat version of your air cushion spell as hard as you can!
>Use earth and air control to try to make a dust cloud again, that visor looks very restrictive, maybe Harper can escape in the confusion.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3733806
>Start shooting and don’t stop! Visor slits, armor joints, anything that looks vulnerable gets a bullet!
Gun magic never fails
>>
>>3733806
>Charge out from cover and slug him with the combat version of your air cushion spell as hard as you can!
>>
>>3733806
>Start shooting and don’t stop! Visor slits, armor joints, anything that looks vulnerable gets a bullet!
>>
>>3733806
>>Start shooting and don’t stop! Visor slits, armor joints, anything that looks vulnerable gets a bullet!
>>
Rolled 3, 91, 34, 28, 6 = 162 (5d100)

>>3733819
>>3733929
>>3734136
More shooting it is, going to need rolls.

My rolls are for the guards, invaders, Ehrenstein twice, and then Harper, in that order.
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>3734416
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>3734416
Why are our allies jobbing themselves to death?
>>
>>3734424
HAH, GET FUCKED
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>3734416
please god don't be a one
>>
>>3734424
So we can save them it seems...
What happened? Bullet somehow ricocheted from his armor into portal into a guy that was keeping it open?
>>
>>3734429
Do you believe in gun magic, in a young girl's heart?
>>
File: 100.gif (2.55 MB, 540x320)
2.55 MB
2.55 MB GIF
>>3734424
Pfffffff, alright then.

>>3734433
Apparently the dice gods do.
>>
>>3734433
Of course I do
>>
>>3734424
God we're a badass, it's gonna really suck when the rolls fuck us
>>3734447
Any chance we're gonna get a skill system so we don't look like a total fucking mong in the future for failing shit we should probably be good at
>>
>>3734468
Definitely something I'd like to get sorted by the next thread, consistency and comprehensibility for players is important, and it helps prevent excessive power swinginess and rampant jobbing.
>>
>>3734498
Awesome. Of course, marksmanship better be there...
>>
If I think about it using fire would probably be good idea if we meet heavily armoured dude in the future
After all, if they can breathe the fire can get to them
>>
Ehrenstein moves around the portal with startling speed for a man of his size, armored feet ripping up the turf from their impact as he closes the short distance to Harper. The baron raises his club overhead for a powerful but telegraphed strike, intent on crushing Harper who is struggling to bring up a barrier of air with his focus stone, and you open fire in a desperate attempt to stop him. One round after another, working the surprisingly fast bolt of the gun as quickly as you can.

The rounds glance off of Ehrenstein’s heavy fluted plate armor in rapid succession, only leaving shallow dents as they struggle to find purchase on the curving armor even at its weaker joints, but it catches his attention enough to halt the swing and look around to find the source of your attack. His black visored helm turns to face your position, bright muzzle flashes and concussion shaking nearby leaves giving it away, and he lowers one gauntleted hand from the club and points it toward you. You shoot him in the head, the round impacting on a breathing slit of the visor and shards of the bullet slipping through, but he doesn’t seem phased at all. You fire again. No effect.

“IN THE NAME OF THE GODDESS, YOU WILL BE NEXT!”, he shouts before turning his attention back to Harper, who has managed to begin to stand and scramble backwards during the pause. Not far enough though, not nearly far enough, and you’ve run out of ammunition. A step forward and a single swing of the huge club is all that is needed, Harper’s barrier hardly slowing the magically empowered blow. It catches him in the chest, there’s a sickening wet cracking sound, and he’s launched backwards several yards into the trunk of a tree which elicits another horrible sound of impact. He lands in a crumpled pile on the ground.

The portal meanwhile is disgorging troops again, and the few remaining invaders from the first wave seem to have rallied with the arrival of Ehrenstein. Their shots are landing now, pyramid guards catching rounds as they try to return fire, men falling out of cover with pained screams or no sound at all. It had looked like things were leading to victory, but that hope is snuffed out in almost an instant. This… this can’t be happening, you had almost won, it was so close!

Ehrenstein strides toward you with heavy steps, his metal studded club aglow with blue light, looking to all the world as if he were a great demon made solely of black steel and murderous intent.

You gust another gun awkwardly into your hands without your focus, hoping it’s loaded, fear and anger mixing together deep within your mind. Not like this, it can’t end like this. More of the pyramid guards fall, their numbers almost dwindled to nothing at this point. You’re alone, facing sure death, allies dying. The baron is drawing closer, your renewed firing still just… just not hurting him. How? How is this possible? You scream in defiance, having little else left, unwilling to run.
>>
>>3734778

Deep inside of you something snaps.

Your perception distorts violently, the world of the physical vanishing to almost nothing in an instant, only auras and mana remaining. Ethereal figures stand where soldiers did moments ago, the baron the brightest among them, but all pale in comparison to the great dome overhead - Almost blindingly bright, the power too difficult to comprehend, it’s magical bleed off chaotic and immense and utterly uncontrollable.

For just a moment you comprehend it. Everything is in focus, all of it, the patterns of bleed off intertwining intuitively. Your left arm breaks as ambient arcane power courses through it, a terrible focused calm replacing your rage, and you aim one final time in spite of the pain. The fire of the powder burning and the great pressure it generates, the strength of the rifle’s chamber, bolt, and barrel, the air the bullet must cut through, the raw magical power you force into the attack - Everything is in perfect focus.

Ehrenstein stops his advance, letting out half a confused word. He doesn’t get the chance to finish, the tremendous eruption of power from your rifle’s muzzle impacting him squarely in the chest. You black out.

When you awaken a few moments later, staggering to your feet with the support of your rifle, you find that the baron is dead. A smoking foot wide hole blasted through both sides of his chest and plate armor, and the portal beyond where he was standing has been… wounded? A huge tear cuts across the distorting black and purple vortex, glimpses of the spirit world beyond clear for just a moment, a great blue eye staring out from it at you. The portal snaps shut, leaving nothing behind.

The invaders, those that survived from earlier or made it through the portal after the baron, rout. They begin fleeing, running in several directions, desperately trying to get away from you as they scatter across the grounds. You try to ready your rifle and repeat whatever it was that you just did, but nothing happens. A single utterly normal shot is all you manage, and with your broken left arm you aren’t steady enough to land the hit. Your arm hurts terribly, the second time today its been broken, but in spite of that display of power you otherwise don’t feel much worse.

High above you the bombardment continues against the dome of mana, and across the grounds you can hear other fights breaking out. The cries of dying men from both sides fill the air, but your battle here is over. The pyramid lies ahead.

>Rush to Harper and attempt to heal him, time is of the essence.
>Try to find a better healer nearby, you’re terribly inexperienced at body alteration.
>Make sure the area is clear of enemies, no surprises.
>Write-in.

Write-ins are especially appreciated this time, for detail if nothing else.
>>
>>3734780
>>Try to find a better healer nearby, you’re terribly inexperienced at body alteration.
>Make arm brace with earth magic
>Get one of surviving guard to help us out
Assuming any of them still live that is
>>
>>3734780
>Try to find a better healer nearby, you’re terribly inexperienced at body alteration
>>
>>3734825
+1
We are shite at healing magic
>>
>>3734780
>>3734825

Something along the lines of "PLEASE, GODS, SOMEONE HELP ME! I NEED TO SAVE HIM!"

or some such.
>>
>>3734780
>Try to find a better healer nearby, you’re terribly inexperienced at body alteration.
>>
>>3734825
>>3734826
>>3734928
>>3734944
>>3734994
Getting help does seem prudent. I need some rolls for Catherine's attempt to find a healer quickly in all the chaos.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>3735058
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>3735058
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>3735058
>>
RIP
>>
>>3735062
>>3735070
>>3735071
Oof. Glad it wasn't the 2 at least.

>>3735076
Could've gone better, yeah.
>>
On the positive side it's probably not the first person that died in our arms because of shit healing abilities so we are probably going to avoid PTSD
>>
Rolled 96, 74 = 170 (2d100)

Healer rolls inbound.
>>
>>3735188
Based non-jobber
>>
>>3735188
Did our examiner happen to be nearby or is this one of the other local ultra wizards on the way to battle?
>>
>>3735198
Indeed, managed to make up for the poor arrival time. Post coming soon, just cleaning things up some.

>>3735206
Just one of the normal instructors putting up a good performance under stress, not in ultra-mage territory at all just decently experienced.
>>
As the combat comes to a close you take a moment to try to figure out what the hell just happened, how you fired that shot, what any of it meant. It all comes up blank, sensible explanations falling short by quite a ways. You’ve always done well in tough situations, but that was definitely not just adrenaline and luck, its sudden onset and the clarity you experienced…

You shake your head, coming back to your senses as you push the thought out of mind, arm in great pain and the cries of dying men filling the air. The battle is over, there are wounded to help. That hit Harper took looked horrible, sounded worse, and you’re not even sure if he’s alive. The thought stings even though you’ve only known him for a short time, he seems like a decent person and the idea of his life being cut short disturbs you. You promised you’d keep the invaders busy and cover him, and you tried, and you failed. It’s all just too much like the mutiny, people dying despite your best efforts.

There’s no time to check the condition of the wounded, you doubt you could stabilize any of them anyways. The only hope is finding a healer and getting them here as fast as possible. It looks like the one remaining pyramid guard had a similar idea, he’s already jogging off and shouting for one. You follow suit, heading in the other direction - The more ground you both cover the more likely you’ll find somebody in time.

The academy is devolving into chaos as fighting is breaking out all over the grounds, the barrage against the dome still thudding away, and the blue light of the mana the pyramid is projecting continuing to cast everything in azure hues. Running along one of the smooth pathways, avoiding a few small fights between guards and invaders that have sprung up in many areas, your cries for a healer are eventually answered. A middle aged man with salt and pepper hair and in red instructor’s robes is tending to a few lightly wounded students along the wall of one of the academy’s large first empire era theaters. After a hurried explanation of the situation he sets off with you back to where Harper and the guards are, the villa and green area coming back into sight after some more running. It all took longer than you had thought it would, precious seconds passing by as the wounded slip closer to death.
>>
>>3735229

The instructor, Jeremiah, sets to work quickly with his focus stone to try to stabilize Harper. He’s barely alive, unconscious and his chest almost half caved in from the club strike and one of his arms broken in a terrible compound fracture. He’s difficult to look at in this state, death and horrible injuries are unfortunately familiar to you but still never comfortable to confront. You help as best you can in the healing, stemming a few simple sources of bleeding while the instructor does the heavy lifting of reconstructing bone, flesh, and crushed organs.

The guard that ran off to find a healer was apparently successful as well in his search, and they’re tending to their own wounded.

Jeremiah’s efforts take a little over two minutes of total concentration, and at the end of it despite the odds he’s managed to stabilize Harper. It will take days of rest and additional healing for him to recover properly, possibly longer, as he was quite close to death when the healing began. Harper will likely be unconscious for awhile, though Jeremiah isn’t sure. You thank him profusely for his efforts, hugging him, which results in your arm flaring into pain again as you do so a bit too tightly - He goes ahead and heals your arm at that point, before moving over to assist with the wounded guards.

>Move Harper into the villa and leave him while you continue to the pyramid. The guards can take care of him.
>Try to carry Harper with you to the pyramid, you will need to strengthen your body to do so alone though.
>See if one of the guards will help you move Harper to the pyramid, it might take some convincing though.
>Screw the pyramid, the fighting out here is getting crazy and people need help. Harper can stay in the villa.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3735232
>>Screw the pyramid, the fighting out here is getting crazy and people need help. Harper can stay in the villa.
>>
>>3735232
>Screw the pyramid, the fighting out here is getting crazy and people need help. Harper can stay in the villa.
I doubt there's much point in asking for orders in pyramid at this point
>>
>>3735232
>Screw the pyramid, the fighting out here is getting crazy and people need help. Harper can stay in the villa.
You don't need two arms for magic (right?)
>>
>>3735232
>>Move Harper into the villa and leave him while you continue to the pyramid. The guards can take care of him
>>
Harper and several of the more severely wounded guards are moved into the relative safety of the villa, the other guards taking up defensive positions across the multi-leveled building. A few students and guards arrive while the wounded are being situated in one of the villa’s larger rooms, the two groups having both only barely survived an attack at another portal site. Once you’re certain that Harper is safe, which only takes a few minutes, you set your mind to heading back out into the growing chaos of battle that is consuming the academy grounds - People need help out there, and there is no reason to hide in the pyramid when you can still fight.

Whether the enemy are coming through more portals, some breach in one of the gates or wall, or however it is they’ve managed to get in, they simply must be stopped. Even muffled through the villa’s walls it is clear that the gunfire is only growing more intense, the sound of distant firefights interspersed with explosions and the roars of bestial spirits called forth to do battle.

You’re still tired from earlier, and only going to grow moreso, but there is a job to be done. Having had quite enough of scrounging for fallen guns on the fly you decide to arm yourself more fully, gathering equipment from the fallen and those too badly wounded to fight. It’s a ghastly but necessary business, and the available weapons are being handed out to anybody that knows how to use them. You put on a fallen pyramid guard’s pouch bandolier and adjust it to fit more snugly, judging that it should be able to fit stripper clips or the odd magazines of the invader rifles without too much issue.

Grabbing a gun you choose to take…

>One of the sleek bolt action carbines of the pyramid guard, it has finer sights and is most familiar to you.
>One of the bulkier straight-pull invader rifles, the larger detachable magazines are an odd but seemingly quite useful feature.
>A semiautomatic handgun the invader officer carried, sacrificing power and range for the ability to use a focus stone in tandem.
>One of the rifles and the handgun, carrying less ammo for either to have both.

And exiting the villa you head off toward…

>The nearest fight, which has a lot of yelling and the sound of clashing blades but little gunfire.
>The next nearest fight, which sounds particularly heavy on magic or perhaps mundane explosives.
>The outer wall, to hunt for the breach and maybe get a better idea of what is going on.
>The guard headquarters, where the fighting sounds very intense and huge beasts roar.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3736017
>>One of the sleek bolt action carbines of the pyramid guard, it has finer sights and is most familiar to you.

Dat sweet, sweet Mastery bonus.

>The nearest fight, which has a lot of yelling and the sound of clashing blades but little gunfire.

Never bring a knife to a gunfight!
>>
>>3736024
Supporting
>>
>>3736017
>One of the sleek bolt action carbines of the pyramid guard, it has finer sights and is most familiar to you.
>A semiautomatic handgun the invader officer carried, sacrificing power and range for the ability to use a focus stone in tandem.

>The nearest fight, which has a lot of yelling and the sound of clashing blades but little gunfire.
We shall retake the Academy inch by inch!
>>
>>3736017
>One of the bulkier straight-pull invader rifles, the larger detachable magazines are an odd but seemingly quite useful feature.
>The nearest fight, which has a lot of yelling and the sound of clashing blades but little gunfire.
Would vote for the wall if we were actually capable of closing any breaches; magical or otherwise
>>
>>3736017
>One of the sleek bolt action carbines of the pyramid guard, it has finer sights and is most familiar to you.
>One of the rifles and the handgun, carrying less ammo for either to have both.
>The guard headquarters, where the fighting sounds very intense and huge beasts roar.
>>
You choose to take one of the sleek guard carbines, which other than being shorter in length is very similar to the rifle you used during the mutiny, and grab a few clips for it. It never failed you in the past when dealing with packs of wild dogs, or rebels, or even the occasional lion that attacked livestock - It’s a reliable and accurate weapon, and you’re confident in your ability to use it well. Briefly you consider taking the officer’s handgun but decide against it, the odd toggle locked thing is unfamiliar to you and probably much less useful against the armor the invaders are wearing.

Loaded up on ammunition, rifle in hand, you head out of the villa and toward the nearest sound of fighting. The shouts and battle cries, both masculine and feminine, and the clash of blades can be heard clearly even over the general din of battle filling the grounds. Maneuvering past a few buildings, staying off the paths now try to keep some general level of stealth, you arrive at the fight quickly. It’s taking place in the center of a small market plaza, a few steps leading down into a sizable rectangular stone center, the area surrounded by fairly modest shop buildings of first empire styling. Peering from behind a stone column you can clearly see the fight.

A tall and dark haired saber wielding woman in a patterned red long tailcoat is engaged in an almost dance-like melee with six invader soldiers at once. An open portal is at the center of the plaza, and quite a few bodies of slain invaders are littering the area in rapidly spreading pools of blood. While the woman’s attire is somewhat odd what is far stranger is the bound spirit staying very close by her side, a dark red spectral figure resembling the woman and moving in step with her - It looks to be made of blood perhaps, and wields a saber identical to the woman’s. Working in tandem they’re holding back the group of soldiers and their long bayonets, at times their feet sliding across the blood slick stone of the plaza as if they were skaters maneuvering on ice.

The black armored invader soldiers are having a difficult time of it, despite what would seem to be an overwhelming advantage in numbers and weapon reach they just aren’t landing any hits. Bayonets thrusts are knocked away with parries or simply voided with fluid side steps, attempts to back off and shoot the woman or spirit only resulting in the bullet being deflected off of their swords in a frightening display of speed or perhaps shot prediction. One unfortunate soldier draws too close, his bayonet thrust not only deflected but resulting in the barrel of his rifle being sheared off along with his most forward hand. Sword, bayonet, rifle - It doesn’t seem to matter what they attack her with, all of it is stopped.
>>
>>3737103

It’s clear the woman is being overwhelmed though, slowly but surely, the pattern of bodies across the plaza making it as clear as could be. One here, two there, then three… At some point the invaders started coming in too fast to be killed, in groups too cohesive to just be overwhelmed in an instant by the woman and spirit. Two more soldiers have already exited the portal in the few seconds you’ve been observing, these ones wielding sabers of their own and focus stones in their offhand. It probably won’t be long before they’re joined by spirits, or some huge bastard like the baron you killed earlier.

>Open fire at the soldiers already engaged with the woman, take some pressure off of her so she can clean up the rest.
>Shoot the newly arrived mages! Always shoot the mages first!
>Get your focus stone out, move into the plaza, and try to close the portal - If Harper’s attempt was anything to go by it just takes a ton of mana being dumped into it…. Probably. It wasn’t too clear.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3737105
>Shoot the newly arrived mages! Always shoot the mages first!
I bet the attack mage lady can close the portal if we assist her.
>>
>>3737105
>>Shoot the newly arrived mages! Always shoot the mages first!
>>
>>3737105
>>Shoot the newly arrived mages! Always shoot the mages first!
We are going to get highest mage killcount if things are going to continue like this
>>
Rolled 69, 83, 69, 2, 80, 26 = 329 (6d100)

>>3737110
>>3737118
>>3737152
Roll to geek the mages first.

My rolls are woman twice, spirit, invader mooks, and mages twice.
>>
Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>3737218
Mooks mooking
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>3737218
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>3737218
Bang, they're dead.
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>3737218
>>
>55

The path is clear, the mages have to go first - There’s no telling what they could do given the chance. You step back from the column, leaning around it ever so slightly and raise your carbine. Placing the first mage in your sights, his polished black helm reflecting the azure light the dome is casting, you steady your breathing and squeeze the trigger. The shot lands, the invader mage’s head whipping to the side...

He’s only grazed. Shit.

A barrier of air deflected the shot enough so that it just ran along the edge of his cheek, leaving a bloody and painful but ultimately superficial wound. Both mages stop, turning about searching for your location, and one spots it as you fire again. A graze to leg this time, the shot deflected downward by his barrier. He shouts to his companion, pointing to your position behind the column with his saber.

Working the bolt quickly you keep firing, missing twice either from the barrier or error, and all the while the mages are advancing toward you. Their focus stones are extended, motes of mana swirling about as they strengthen their magical defenses, sabers kept closer in while they run. Firing two more times, as rapidly as you can, the mages are still unharmed as the bullets fly off at odd angles and crack into the stone behind them and to their sides.

The saber wielding woman and her spirit companion meanwhile have made short work of several of the invader soldiers, expertly placed slashes severing limbs as they dart in and out of their enemy’s bayonet reach. Three of the five soldiers that were left are terribly wounded or dead, their blood beginning to mingle with the rest on the plazas stone center. It seems unlikely the two remaining soldiers will last long, but two more have already exited the portal and its purple and black swirling surface is continuing to ripple signalling the arrival of even more soon enough.

The carbine is empty, two combat mages bearing down on your position quickly.

>Reload and reposition around the plaza, keep firing and try to keep them away. They’ve already been grazed, something will surely get through.
>Reload and try to maneuver past the mages and into the plaza, group up with the woman and her spirit.
>Drop the carbine and get your focus stone out, you might be able to overpower their barriers with a big dumb clumsy blast of air. Strength against strength!
>Drop the carbine, get out the focus, and try to gust some of the fallen invader rifles to you from the plaza. Their bayonets are fixed, and they’re behind the mages...
>Write-in.
>>
>>3737384
>>Reload and reposition around the plaza, keep firing and try to keep them away. They’ve already been grazed, something will surely get through.

In general, harassment tactics. We don't HAVE to hit them perse, we just have to keep them distracted.
>>
>>3737384
>Drop the carbine, get out the focus, and try to gust some of the fallen invader rifles to you from the plaza. Their bayonets are fixed, and they’re behind the mages...
>>
>>3737384
>Reload and try to maneuver past the mages and into the plaza, group up with the woman and her spirit.
>>
>>3737384
>Reload and try to maneuver past the mages and into the plaza, group up with the woman and her spirit.
>>
Rolled 76, 34, 14, 16, 93, 71 = 304 (6d100)

>>3737405
>>3737563
Roll it, anons.

My rolls are the same as the last time.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>3737576
Then we WILL break through!
>>
>>3737584
Bah. Maybe I should stop rolling. Not doing any good.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>3737576
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>3737576
>>
>>3737584
>>3737590
>>3737663
>92
Good save there at the end.

>>3737585
Never give up anon.
>>
>>3737576
>>3737663
So every mage is doing great
Everyone else is jobbing hard
>>
>>3737733
Gun>Magick>>>>>>Mundanes
>>
Opening up one of the bandolier’s pouches as quickly as you can, the buttoned flap giving a bit of trouble, you fish out a clip and reload the carbine. The rounds slide in with a forceful press of your thumb, the closing of the bolt knocking the now useless metal strip away to the ground. You run, heart pounding, to get past the left side of the mages and into the plaza center - They’re almost upon you now, sabers flashing and focus stones flaring with arcane energies.

The sword of the leftmost mage scythes outward as you try to juke by, and catches your side leaving a thin but expanding bloody line along your white blouse. With your adrenaline pumping you hardly feel the shallow cut, your positioning and not quite fully interposed carbine having stopped the worst of the strike. A roaring blast of air from the other mage’s focus stone misses and smashes into one of the stone buildings of the market area, the impact sending out a small shower of rocky debris. The two mages skid almost to a stop to try to turn and follow you as you slide past their attacks and keep running, but you stay just a bit ahead of their blades as they need a moment to regain speed.

A few more strides and you dive forward, avoiding another concussive blast of air, sliding a couple of yards across the blood slick paving stones. With an unfocused gust of air you clumsily project yourself forward, accelerating the slide until you smash into the corpse of one of the armored invaders. It’s a jarring impact, your right shoulder striking the fallen man’s cuirass forcefully, and you fire a mostly blind shot at your pursuers before trying to push yourself up and off the ground. The shot missed, but the mages slow for a moment to refocus their barriers.

With the half moment that bought you scramble back onto your feet fully and close the rest of the way to the red coated woman. She’s dispatching the last of the original group of soldiers, one already dead on the ground and the final sent reeling in a spray of crimson as his head is nearly taken off at the neck. More are coming in quickly though, the two of a few moments ago joined by another pair. The woman, her bound spirit looking like a bloody shadow as it stands offset just behind her, turns to face the oncoming mages and other soldiers coming through the portal.

“A lovely dance, is it not?”, she coos to you while flicking the blood from her saber, gloomy red eyes half closed as if in a waking dream.

>Fire at the normal soldiers, they have no barriers to deflect your shots.
>Concentrate fire on the mages, together you can probably take them down quickly.
>Let the woman fight the invaders while you focus on stopping the portal.
>Drop the carbine, get the focus stone out, and fight with magic (suggest it).
>Write-in.

Feel free to give out short bits of dialogue.
>>
>>3737865
>Fire at the normal soldiers, they have no barriers to deflect your shots.
>>
>>3737865
> "A bit too high octane for me."
>Fire at the normal soldiers, they have no barriers to deflect your shots.
> "Tend to prefer something a bit more jazzy."

No seriously, I can see her liking mellow jazz and swing band. Strings, not woodwinds.
>>
>>3737889
Seconding
>>
Rolled 12, 66, 78, 48, 17, 34 = 255 (6d100)

>>3737887
>>3737889
>>3737928
Shooting the mundanes it is, lets get some rolls. Dialogue will be adjusted slightly since octane ratings don't exist yet.

Once again my rolls are the same as before.
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>3738120
But Jazz does. Interedasting...
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>3738120
Man, the spirit is actually going to do something!
>>
Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>3738120
>>
“A bit too high energy for me,”, you respond while fatally shooting the closest soldier as he charges, “I tend to prefer something a little more jazzy.”

The woman sighs out a drowsy pleased little, “Mhmm...”, as her only response, eyes shutting completely for just a moment as she adjusts her grip on her saber and lowers its point slightly. The sanguine spectral form of her bound spirit mirrors the motion, an almost perfect copy just a half step behind and to her right side.

Just as the invader mages almost close into weapon reach the woman slides forward across the bloodied stone in a sudden low stepless lunge, body angled so as to avoid a parry or stop hit, her saber passing upward through a brief line opened in the first mage’s barrier as he tries and fails to halt her with his own blade. The thrust pierces through his breastplate, unnatural strength carrying its point deep into his heart past the steel armor, and with a vicious cutting motion she frees the sword from his chest widening the wound - A torrent of blood erupts from the dying man, sword and focus stone slipping from his hands as he falls lifeless to the ground.

The woman’s spirit makes equally short work of the other mage, his attempt to use a blast of air to disrupt its form a total failure as it simply cuts through the focus stone and up the length of his arm, splitting his hand and forearm into two gory sections. It then steps in past the mage’s blade, crimson left hand gripping his shoulder, and pulls him into a devastating thrust that pierces through both sides of his armor. For half a moment it almost looks like a caring embrace, the spirits arm wrapping around the back of his neck as a lover would, but the illusion is shattered as the mage is suddenly kicked away while the saber is simultaneously withdrawn. He joins his comrade on the bloodstained paving stones.

While far less flashy your own efforts in dispatching the remaining three soldiers are no less lethal, each receiving a single shot from the carbine in rapid succession. One to the head, his body simple crumpling mid run like a puppet with its strings cut, armor clanging as it hits the stone below. Another had stopped to fire at you, your shot catching him in the cuirass and punching through it just as he began to level his rifle. The third managed to get a shot off, but you returned the favor and he never got a second chance.

The invaders are all dead, bodies and weapons strewn about the blood soaked area like something from a nightmare. You having little time to appreciate the disturbing view, reloading your carbine quickly as the swirling portal continues to ripple and has started to grow in size.

>Attempt to close the portal now before it can grow further and let in more invaders.
>Wait for whatever is coming through to clear the portal and ambush it.
>Ask if the woman can close the portal.
>Write-in.

Dialogue suggestions are still appreciated, as they generally are.
>>
>>3738656
>Ask if the woman can close the portal
"Let's close this thing, together."
>>
>>3738656
>Ask if the woman can close the portal
>>
>>3738656
>So you know any other ways of closing these portals outside of giant magical lasers?
>>
“If only I could dance a little longer…”, the woman sighs, sheathing her saber gently. She turns her pale somnolent face toward you, weariness written in her red eyes, mouth a small tired smile, “What am I to call you, dear mage? I am known to this land as Ciara, though I dream and dance far.”

“I’m Catherine. By chance do you, uh, happen to know how to close one of those things? I think it’s getting bigger.”, you question while pointing to the growing portal, backing up a few steps across the blood slick stone as it continues to enlarge and ripple. The dark vortex is distorting, black and purple streaks shifting in an uneven chaotic spiral to fill the growing void.

“Mmmm,”, Ciara gives a slow drowsy nod, looking almost as if she is about to drift off to sleep right then and there, “I could sing it a lullaby.”

“...And that works?”, you ask incredulously, having assumed it would take another huge mana beam or something equally flashy. Vogel had opened and closed portals with a snap earlier like she was commanding a dog, but that was in a testing chamber that seemed made for such things and has a ‘portal system’.

“Indeed, Catherine.”, she speaks softly, “Even spirits seek rest from their labors.”

“Well then go ahead, no time to waste.”, you insist while watching the portal still growing alarmingly larger, “Is there any way I can help?”

“Can you sing, dear mage?”, Ciara asks while stepping languidly toward the portal, her crimson spirit mimicking the movement behind her.

“I can try.”, you state simply, ”Let’s close this thing then, together.”

>Try to sing with her.
>Just hum along.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3738966
>>Try to sing with her.
Let's hope we have nice singing voice
Surely we have sang at least one shanty in the past
>Inb4 1
>>
>>3738966
>Try to sing with her
>>
>>3738966
>Try to sing with her.
>>
Rolled 44, 57, 58 = 159 (3d100)

>>3738970
>>3738972
>>3739075
Well, I guess it's time to see if Catherine can sing. Lets get some rolls, anons.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>3739273
>>
Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>3739273
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>3739273
>>
Ciara and her spirit reach out to the expanding portal, caressing it’s dark rippling surface lightly with their hands, staring far into its endless depths without flinching or shying away.

“I… need to touch the portal?”, you ask, eyes squinting and already pained just from looking at the swirling energy.

“Just so. Come, dear mage, sing with us.”, she whispers while maintaining her gaze, “The spirit already tires, the pitiful thing… Reach out to it.”

A little hesitantly you move forward and place your left hand upon the portal’s surface, and find it frightfully cold to the touch. It’s almost like pressing into the surface of ice water, prickling frigid little needles of sensation rapidly spreading into numbness. The feeling fades from physical to emotional, the numbness becoming a deep and profound sadness that leaches into your being. A longing to escape torment, despair at almost unending labor of the harshest kind. Fear of punishment, of steel chains and men with guns that force you to obey. Exhaustion, fatigue, an ache for rest that spreads into the center of your being. Your vision is no longer pained by the portal, for you can see far beyond it and into the very mind of the spirit that gives it form. You see nothing of it, or of the world it inhabits, only thought and feeling bound together.

Distantly, from another world, the voices of Ciara and her spirit drift through the creature’s thoughts. The twin songs are melancholy and peaceful, and bring with them a willingness to let go of a tortured existence, to sleep at long last. A need to embrace another world, to dream a better dream. Your voice joins theirs, unsteady at first as the words are unfamiliar and of a foreign tongue but then with growing clarity. Together your three voices guide the creature into a deep rest, settling it into comforting darkness, pushing away the panicked screams of soldiers from its thoughts.

The portal blinks shut, pulling you back to your body. Back to the blood stained plaza covered with the dead, ghostly blue light from the dome giving it all a dreamlike otherworldly quality. You started crying at some point, you aren’t sure when, eyes blinking to try to clear the tears. Part of you just wants to lay down and sleep, to escape the horrors of the world around you.

“You sang well, dear mage.”

>Sit down and just cry it out for awhile.
>Try to get a hold of yourself, there’s… there’s still fighting to be done.
>Try to speak with Ciara, fight through your tears. (Suggest it)
>Write-in.
>>
>>3739527
>Sit down and just cry it out for awhile.
We should head to the pyramid. We have done far more than what is expected and now we're too tired to continue.
>>
>>3739527
>>Sit down and just cry it out for awhile.
>>
>>3739527
>>Sit down and just cry it out for awhile.
>>
>>3739527
>>Try to get a hold of yourself, there’s… there’s still fighting to be done.
We can cry after we remove the invaders
>>
You slump to the blood soaked ground, carbine clattering onto the stone as you weep into your hands. The song struck some chord deep within you, just as it did for the spirit, tearing away barriers of emotion and laying your feelings bare. Repressed sorrow, stress, and pain all sent pouring out in a torrent. The world has fallen to madness, utter madness, and it feels as if it’s dragging you down with it. A horrible tightness in your chest, face contorted in grief, you cry, and cry, and keep crying without even trying to hold it in. Minutes pass, and in blurred vision between bouts of tears you can see Ciara and her bloody spirit sitting by you, the pair watching you gloomily.

You just want it to end, for an escape from it, to flee the cruelty of the world - Sleep, unconsciousness, anything. It’s too much. It’s all just too much. Half an hour ago your greatest worry was strange weather, and now somehow people are fighting and killing again - You are fighting and killing again. Memories of the mutiny, of those you’ve lost, flood through your thoughts. It isn’t fair, none of it is, there is something deeply wrong with the world and the suffering within it...

But still you must go on, and slowly but surely you begin to get a handle on your feelings, shaking and tears lessening with each moment, mental barriers returning to normal. The overpowering need to simply give up and slip into the blackness of sleep steadily fades, and as it does so your resolve and confidence begin to return. You wipe the tears from your eyes one last time, thoughts clearer than minutes before, a great burden having lifted.

Aches and pains from bruising across your shoulder, the sting of the shallow saber cut to your side, the soreness of a healed body put through great action so soon after being mended - These physical pains still mingle with your growing wearniness, but emotionally you are steady, stable, and ready for whatever may come.

A hand rests lightly on your shoulder, the din of combat still resounding from across the grounds. The azure dome overhead is beginning to flicker unsteadily with each explosive impact against it, surface still darkened by the rain it is holding back. The ground is shaking every so often, enormous roars and strange bestial screeches heard clearly even over the gunfire filling the academy.

“I must go, dear mage. The dancing continues elsewhere.”

>Head to the pyramid, safety or perhaps some answers might wait there.
>Ask her to stay with you, she is... strange but capable, and you know so little.
>Seek out another battle, though how much longer you can keep this up physically you aren’t sure.
>Speak with Ciara before she leaves. (suggest it)
>Write-in.
>>
>>3740580
>Seek another battle at her side
Duty calls, but I don't want to go it alone
>>
>>3740580
>Head to the pyramid, safety or perhaps some answers might wait there.
>>
>>3740580
>>Seek another battle at her side
We should be capable of doing one or two more fights like these
Maybe three if we get lucky
How many of these portals are around though and if they will continue to bombard everything once barrier falls or will they instead send air support to fuck our side up even more
Or would that be naval support with this weather?
>>
>>3740580
>Head to the pyramid, safety or perhaps some answers might wait there.
>>
>>3740580
>Head to the pyramid, safety or perhaps some answers might wait there
We shouldn't push it
>>
>>3740582
>>3740893
2 for seeking battle.

>>3740797
>>3741181
2 for pyramid.

A tie breaker is needed.
>>
>>3741321
>>3741332
Nevermind. To the pyramid it is!
>>
It takes you a few seconds to respond to Ciara as she begins to depart, your view of the dome flickering holding your attention for a moment, “...Where are you going?”

She turns slightly to glance back to you while maintaining her graceful stride, “To the pyramid of course, dear mage. That is the center of this dance.”

You pull your carbine toward you across the ground by its sling while responding, “I was actually thinking of heading there too. It’s probably the safest place right now, might be able to get some answers as to what’s going on… or something, anyway.”

“Answers perhaps... but safety? No, dear mage, there will be no safety there. Come then, let us travel through this dream together for awhile.”, she motions for you to follow, unsheathing her saber.

“Well it’ll probably still be safer than out here at least, right?”, you question while checking over the carbine, but she doesn’t answer and leaves the question lingering in the air.

You stand quickly and head out to exit the market area, gun at the ready as you leave the blood stained plaza behind you. Ciara stays close by your side, her crimson spirit staying even closer by hers, and as trio you make your way out and into the grounds. In theory the pyramid is simple enough to head toward, the massive shining limestone bulk of it reflecting flickering blue light and visible from essentially any point of the grounds, but navigating toward it in the chaos that is consuming the grounds turns out to be anything but straightforward.

There is fighting all over, with little in the way of clear lines of battle, portals disgorging black armored troops and spirits of all sorts on streets, in clearings, and even atop buildings - You spot at least half a dozen of the dark rippling doorways, and it’s clear that there must be many dozens more just on this half of the grounds. Pyramid guards are fighting invader soldiers in firefights across the streets and paths, mages of both sides battling among them with controlled elements and bestial monsters brought forth from the spirit world. Very carefully you maneuver around the most intense sites of combat, weaving between buildings and even cutting through the interiors of a few, passing by skirmishes without getting bogged down too badly.
>>
>>3743207

The fighting grows more intense as you close in on the pyramid, combat eventually becoming completely unavoidable. A straggler from the invaders here, a pair of soldiers attempting the flank there - It’s simple enough to dispatch such small groups between the three of you, and despite these slight delays you eventually exit an alleyway and arrive at the edge of a smoothed stone clearing that surrounds one of the pyramid’s great entrances. You come to a sudden stop as the gate comes into view and even Ciara, as strange as her demeanor is, seems taken aback by the sight.

The great black iron gates of the entrance have been utterly torn apart and pulled from their hinges, their rune decorated surfaces rent with huge claw marks and forced open. Deep scars run along the stone clearing, starting and stopping near large regularly spaced cracked prints in its surface - It’s not clear what left the footprints, but it must be very large and enormously strong. A full platoon of elite invader infantry with heavier and more complete plate armor are guarding the wreckage of the gates from twice their number of pyramid guards, firing from behind the cover of large piles of rubble that look to have been torn from the pyramid’s exterior by the same claws that destroyed the gate. On both sides mages have summoned spirits which are locked in melee with one another between the two groups, fiery hellhounds facing off against huge club wielding ogres.

Why the invaders are protecting the gates instead of the pyramid guards is very worrying, the situation the reverse of what you’d imagined it would probably be. Are they buying time for some reason? Protecting a portal inside of the pyramid? Possibilities race through your mind, none of them comforting.

Overhead the dome continues to flicker and wane in brightness, explosions from the bombardment growing louder as it weakens more and more.

>Move up to one of the pyramid guards and ask what the hell is going on here. Why are the invaders guarding the gate?
>Join the battle at once! Try to fight your way into the pyramid with the guards, no time to delay.
>Take up a protected firing position and try to pick off a few of the invaders, play it as safe as you can.
>Try to move around the pyramid to one of its other entrances, maybe those are less embattled?
>Write-in.

Dialogue is appreciated. Apologies for the long delay since the last post.
>>
>>3743209
>Try to move around the pyramid to one of its other entrances, maybe those are less embattled?
>>
>>3743209
>Join the battle at once! Try to fight your way into the pyramid with the guards, no time to delay.
>>
>>3743209
>Try to move around the pyramid to one of its other entrances, maybe those are less embattled?
>>
>>3743215
>>3743348

You look the situation over for a few moments, getting a clearer picture of the fighting around the pyramid entrance. The invaders are obviously better equipped and trained than the soldiers you’ve fought so far, and while it’s far from perfect their defensive position behind the rubble would likely make any charge against them a one sided slaughter. Even if the guards attacked en masse it would be a bloodbath, and attempting an assault as a small group seems like an even worse idea. No, it simply won’t do. You’re brave, but attacking into that line looks more likely to be an elaborate suicide attempt than a bold offensive.

Backing up into the alley and away from the edge of the clearing you consult with Ciara for a moment, who is still watching the fighting with that odd half asleep look she seems to almost always wear.

“We can’t go through that, Ciara. There’s too many of them, and I don’t like the look of their armor or those ogres. Those aren’t normal soldiers, we should go around to another entrance.”, you urge her, hoping that even with her bizarre behaviour she’ll see the danger for what it is.

She tilts her head slightly, dark ponytail shifting a bit while still watching the fighting, her bloody spirit companion standing just behind her. The spirit moves closer with a step and comes into direct contact with her, and in a strange display it flows and absorbs into her in crimson tendrils until there is nothing left of it, their forms fading together and the spirit’s saber falling to the ground. Color flushes into Ciara’s features as she inhales sharply, her red eyes widening as she seems to awaken from whatever trance she has been in. Reaching to the ground she picks up the fallen saber in her offhand before turning to you.

“...Y-you’re right, the dream must end for a time.”, it seems a great struggle for her to utter the words, “That is not the dance my twin seeks, no matter what she may think. I… I won’t let her get me killed for a dream.”

“What the spirit thinks?...”, you ask a bit hesitantly, Ciara’s odd behaviour beginning to gain some worrying context. Despite the red coat and her magic she clearly isn’t an instructor or student, too young, and too weird respectively. The question of what she was even doing at the academy passes through your mind for a moment, but you push it aside to rest with all the other oddities the day has brought.

“We share control but I command her… for now, at least. It is not easy in a battle, with a target that clear. Please Catherine, lead on without delay. I must get inside.”, she corrects herself after a moment, “We must. The barrier is failing, there isn’t much time.”

You start moving and Ciara follows, keeping to the edge of the clearing and staying low as you head to the side of the pyramid, “Isn’t much time until what?”
>>
>>3743769

“Until they succeed in taking what they came for. The pyramid’s power.”, she explains between heavy breathes as you’re now both running as quickly as you can from the edge of the clearing and around the base of the enormous pyramid, “Power is all they ever seek, like jackals searching for carrion. Can’t you feel it fading?”

Extending your senses as you run it’s quite clear the mana bleed off from the shield is lessening along with the light it casts, the tingling across your skin the excess energy was causing far less than earlier, the flickering shield of arcane energy pulsing unsteadily like a dying heart.

“How can they eve-”, you start to ask, cut off as the barrier finally collapses. A horrible wave of nausea washes over you, almost causing you to trip from the sudden disorientation. The darkness of the rain held back by the dome begins to grow closer, a solid sheet of water falling like a wall from the heavens. You brace yourself, unable to reach a building in time for cover, the wave of rain impacting across the entirety of the grounds in an enormous splash - It isn’t enough to knock you down on its own, only being what could collect on the curved exterior of the dome before flowing off it, but in combination with the return of the torrential downpour and wind that follows you struggle to remain standing. It’s difficult but you manage to get your focus stone out and cut off the worst of the wind and rain with a barrier, extending it to protect Ciara who for some reason isn’t using her own magic.

The return of the terrible storm conditions puts an immediate halt on most fighting across the ground, even in a battle as heated as this one all but the strongest people and spirits simply cannot fight in a storm of this power. Explosions from falling shells begin to fill the grounds along with lightning strikes from the storm, chunks of masonry sent flying as ancient buildings are destroyed in the barrage. The pyramid is hit several times, marginally cratering the exterior of its southern slope but doing little real damage with the first few hits.

You both press on, pushing past groups of soldiers from both sides that are struggling to find cover around the base of the pyramid, forcing yourself through the immense wind to get to another entrance. After a couple minutes of struggling you arrive, finding what is left of a fight that looks to have been very much like the one you left behind. The invaders won at this one, and decisively so. Mages are holding up barriers to block wind and rain around squads of elite soldiers, huge ogre spirits simply bracing themselves with their clubs and resisting the storm with raw strength and weight alone. They’re moving back through a pair of portals, returning to their own world.
>>
>>3743776

With thudding footsteps felt even through the bombardment an enormous white scaled dragon strides out from the ruins of this side’s gate and into view, a black armored rider atop a small saddle at the base of its huge neck. It’s difficult to see much detail of the rider, the rain heavy enough to obscure such things in a grey shroud at this distance, but they wield a large sword in one hand that glows with arcane power. A leader of some kind, a very powerful one. One of the portals is growing to accommodate the massive size of the dragon, enlarging steadily.

To your side Ciara separates back into two forms and enters a dreamlike trance once again, her bloody twin taking its saber back and giving it a small spin. She starts to move forward, exiting the barrier and gaining speed steadily as she runs toward the dragon. The wind slows her, the rain causes the red spirit with her to ripple across its surface, but they push on step by step.

>Extend your senses and stay back for just a moment, try to see their auras through the rain with your mage’s sight.
>Attack! It may be almost impossible in this weather but you must try to shoot that rider! They can’t get away with this, the bastards!
>As above but with magic. (Suggest a plan of attack)
>Try to stop Ciara from running in, it looks like an impossible fight.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3743783
>Extend your senses and stay back for just a moment, try to see their auras through the rain with your mage’s sight.
>>
>>3743783

>Extend your senses and stay back for just a moment, try to see their auras through the rain with your mage’s sight.
>>
>>3743883
>>3744305

Slowing the pace of your run and extending your senses fully you try to pierce through the grey veil of the rain, to see the auras of the invaders and get a better idea of what you’re dealing with here. It takes a few moments of pained blinking to adjust as the world is overlaid with glowing spectral light, dancing cloaks of arcane energy surrounding the soldiers and mages. The auras are very faint at this distance, the soldiers looking almost the same as they did before, and only the mages stand out easily enough to get a read on - Potent, capable, but not as naturally strong as you are.

The dragon and its rider though… You have to shield your eyes, the light is just too much. Mana is washing off of them in waves, the brilliance of their auras like twin suns and barely hindered by the distance. They’re far more powerful than any mage you’ve ever read, more powerful than any of the spirits than you’ve seen today, probably more powerful than all of them combined. Only the pyramid’s projected barrier even came close to having this level of raw energy, and that was spread out over the entirety of the academy’s grounds.

There is something oddly familiar about both of them, but you have little time to consider it - They’ve noticed you.

Startled you withdraw your senses but it’s too late. Whether it was Ciara struggling toward them through the rain or the slight pull of reading their auras, they’ve noticed you. The dragon turns it head suddenly, black slitted yellow eyes narrowing as it spots you near the side of the pyramid’s base, and the armored rider shifts in their saddle to look toward you as well. The invader mages and soldiers don’t seem to have caught on so quickly though, looking about the area trying to find what the dragon is turning for.

A deep mocking male voice echoes throughout the area, not from the rider or dragon but from the air itself, “Two boundlings? That’s all they send? How pathetic. Here, you wretches, have some of your mana back!”

The rider’s sword grows brighter, from blue to pure white, and he levels it in your direction. Mana collects at the tip in an incredibly dense sphere, rapidly growing in size.

>Prepare to defend by strengthening your air barrier.
>Prepare to knock yourself away from the attack with an air blast.
>Rush forward and try to help defend Ciara in her insane charge.
>...Mana beam clash? Mana beam clash.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3744626
>...Mana beam clash? Mana beam clash.
This isn't dragonball, but I must
>>
>>3744626
>>...Mana beam clash? Mana beam clash.
Even if he's not even trying it's not really safe choice, especially in our state
On the other hand we have no chance of actually avoiding anything in this weather
>>
File: Beam_Struggle.png (809 KB, 1278x719)
809 KB
809 KB PNG
Rolled 98, 45, 1, 46, 45, 71 = 306 (6d100)

>>3744642
Something not being dragonball rarely stops it from being dragonball anyways at times.

>>3744652
A fair assessment of the situation.

>>3744642
>>3744652
Roll to beam clash!
>>
File: Oh shit.jpg (66 KB, 1280x720)
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66 KB JPG
>>3744689
>1
>>
Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>3744689
I trust in raw power!
>>
>>3744692
That was for our opponent?
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>3744689
Nice 98 dragon wizard
Shame about that 1 eh?
>>
>>3744699
It was, yes.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>3744689
>>
Rolled 44, 34, 42, 25, 16, 68, 2, 81, 75 = 387 (9d100)

>>3744694
>>3744689
>56 vs. 1
Not a great showing, but an even worse one from the rider. Survivable. Catherine's trend of looking really good because the enemy jobs hard continues.

Rolling for Ciara twice, then her spirit, then elite soldiers twice, mages twice, and ogre spirits twice.
>>
>>3744723
Literally nobody but the Ogres looking good here.
>>
The blazing orb of arcane power rockets toward you, leaping from the tip of the sword with a great concussive blast, a stream of continuous mana from the blade pushing it onward. You meet force with force, dropping your barrier and putting everything you can muster at a moments notice into your own cascade of mana. The beam impacts the ball of energy, and it’s surface distorts and deforms into an oblate spheroid - Flattening for just a moment before exploding in a great ring that cuts across the grounds, the pyramid, and into the stormy sky.

You survived somehow, but the wind and rain are now bearing down on you fully. The attack was very unstable and by luck or skill your disruption worked, though the sudden exertion it required was immense. The rider and dragon are completely unharmed, the huge white beast now turning to face you with its whole body. Ciara and her bloody twin have just reached the first of the elite soldiers, cutting the black armored man down quickly while his comrades struggle to bring their guns to bear against her accurately in the storm. The invader mages strengthen their air barriers around the squads they’re protecting, and one fires a blast of air that sends Ciara’s spirit rolling across the ground a few yards.

The ogres, hardly bothered by the storm, begin moving in to crush Ciara with their clubs. One of the huge ugly spirits even lobs his club at her, the impact violently taking her off of her feat and sending her tumbling alongside her spirit. In a display of remarkable resilience she begins to stand, her crimson spirit mirroring her.

“Impressive for a mere boundling.”, the rider’s deep voice resounds, “Mithran, kill them.”

The dragon opens its huge mouth revealing teeth the size of shortswords, electricity arcing from it chaotically as lighting builds up within its great maw.

>Push forward and try to redirect the lightning, hopefully better than you managed during the examination.
>Pull your barrier back up and hold your ground, just try to survive.
>Try shouting something? Maybe you can delay them. (Suggest it)
>Attempt to use improvised air control to lob a large chunk of masonry at the dragon’s open mouth.
>Write-in.
>>
>>3744800
>Attempt to use improvised air control to lob a large chunk of masonry at the dragon’s open mouth.
>>
>>3744800
>Attempt to use improvised air control to lob a large chunk of masonry at the dragon’s open mouth.
>>
Rolled 10, 83, 73, 88, 45, 84 = 383 (6d100)

>>3744810
>>3744868
Roll for rock lobbing.
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>3744880
Feck
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>3744880
>>Try shouting something? Maybe you can delay them. (Suggest it)
>88
RIP us
>>
>>3745060
Hey, they next roll might be a 100, you never know.
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>3745074
It will never be one if noone rolls so whatever
>>
Rolled 91, 51, 45, 53, 96, 94, 58, 28, 9 = 525 (9d100)

>>3745060
>>3744880
>73 vs. 88
Normally not that bad but under the circumstances... ouch, very, very ouch. That'll be the end of that then. Rolling for the rest of the fight mostly out of morbid curiosity, doubt it will be relevant.
>>
Fear grips you as you watch the open jaws of the massive spirit charge with crackling lightning. This is something entirely beyond what you faced in the examination. Redirection didn’t fully work then so you opt for a different strategy - Take cover. There isn’t any though, at least none you could get to quickly enough, and so you’re forced to bring the cover to you.

Fighting against the power of the storm you struggle to raise and steady your focus stone in the couple of seconds the dragon charges its attack, extending your will desperately outward to seize upon the air around a large section of stone cast out from a building that had been struck by a large shell. It’s heavy, extremely heavy, a section of wrecked column at least a yard thick and a few yards tall. It isn’t the largest section nearby, just the largest you dare to try and lift. The air hardens around it, and with a tremendous push you send it hurtling toward the dragon’s open mouth. You drop to one knee, barely avoiding collapsing completely, the effort to launch the huge stone so suddenly too much to bear while fighting against the storm.

The dragon unleashes its breath attack simultaneously, and for the blink of an eye it looks like your effort make have worked, the section of column flying through the lightning breath and cutting a great gap in it as it soars through the air toward the dragon’s head.

That’s when everything goes wrong.

The column explodes, the incredibly potent lightning blowing it into dozens of smaller chunks and forcing its way through the huge projectile. You only have a moment to consider your fate, half a heartbeat of surprisingly calm contemplation as death flies toward you. The lightning is really quite beautiful.

Everything goes white.

----

And that’ll be the end of the thread. Been fun running.

I might pick things back up in a few days or maybe a week with another thread, I’ll make sure to have a proper system by then if I do.
>>
>>3745262
Remember to archive the thread and possibly link the new one if you make it while this thread is alive
>>
>>3745277
Already archived it, new thread probably won't happen before this one slips off the board though.



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