Redwyrm Dormitories
Week 1: Monday night
There was little to talk about after the defeat in the ‘Death Yard’. The first day at the school had proven to be a difficult one. Dinner was more gruel, and the three brothers that had given them such difficulties at lunch were not present. Those who still had an appetite ate quickly and in silence, while those not willing to face another bowl of gruel simply went to their rooms.

Just as the sun was setting a bell peeled out over the campus and the professor on duty that evening made the rounds ensuring that each student was properly put away in the tiny cube assigned to them.

((OOC: before posting please see the note I have up in the Q&A about what is expected of your next post... thanks!

-Prof. M.)

Steelight Shadowborne
Redwyrm Rooftops
Monday night
There are some things that may occur in ones life that can make a person upset. Perhaps losing a valued item, forgetting ones lunch, or having to watch the excruciating death of a loved one. Steelight was well beyond upset. Fires burned in his soul that no amount of consolation or calming could quench. His rage at his defeat in the training yard was plain to see for anyone who cared to notive. Upon leaving the field he split off from the group. While his fury boiled within him, he was in control enough to realize that if he took it out on another student, he would no longer be welcome in the place he now called home.

He was not seen in the cafeteria that night, choosing instead to fast for the evening as penance for his failure on the field. His time was spent on the roof, the only place he knew of where he could find peace. Few people knew how to get up there, and even fewer had the physical ability to climb.

Hours passed, the sun long set below the horizon. The young monk performed kata after kata, practicing each form, strike and block until his muscles would no longer respond to his rage.

He preferred to spend his night under the moon when he could, a small act proving to himself that he was truly free. The professors didn't particularly care for this practice, since he spent the night away from his room, but tonight, it would be worth it. He had left a note on the chalkboard outside his room after all, so they would know where to find him if they needed to.

In quiet exhaustion, his rage finally played out, Steelight curled up on the roof tiles, among the many towers of the school and gazed up into the heavens. The moon is particularly beautiful tonight. And the stars shine brightly. I will not fail again tomorrow. Finding some small measure of comfort in these thoughts he drifted silently off to sleep.

He awoke with a start, blinded momentarily by the brightness of the risen sun. What time is it? After his vision cleared he looked up to see that the sun was well passed it's zenith in the sky. How many hours passed? 12? 16? One thing was certain, he had been gone for far too long. he would undeniably get an earful from professor O'leary about this one.

He gathered himself up and began to descend, climbing down slowly and carefully, until his foot slipped on the stonework, still slick from the morning dew, concealed from the rays of the sun by the shadows. The wind whistled passed his ears as he fell... and fell... and fell.
After a time confusion began to creep into Steelight's mind. The sun was no longer visible in the sky, and he slowly came to realize that the whistle of the wind had ceased long ago as well. What is going on? Where am I?

All at once, in a sudden and excruciating burst, visions began to fill his mind. Images blurred and passed too fast for his mind to latch on to them, but from time to time the sequence would slow long enough for him to decipher what he saw.

He was caged like the animal they seemed to think he was. He felt the pain of his master's whips punishing him for some imagined slight, and the blood oozing from the torn skin of his back. The tears tried to come, but he had long ago built a wall of hatred to keep them at bay. They would not see his weakness. Simmering hatred and boiling rage protected him here. In a blur the image vanished to be replaced several moments later by the next.

The sand of the arena floor covered his body. Every injury he had ever received fighting in the arena of the Maasters assailed his senses in a single moment of agony. The slicing blades of swods, tearing claws of beasts and the jaws of creatures whose names he would likely never know tore his flesh and rent his limbs. Here too his rage ptorected him. The pain was excruciating, but in only fed his fury. The fires burned within him, purifying his mind and hardening his soul. It may take months, or even years. But I will have my vengeance. They will all feel the pain they have inflicted, if I have to die to make it so.A flash came and the image disappeared along with the building rage within.

Minutes passed, seeming like hours, but the stream of visions did not slow. He thought he should feel frustrated, but instead a strange, soothing feeling began to creep into his consciousness. It was a feeling that, even after several years he could not identify, nor call by name. The hate and rage within simmered low and slowly faded. It was not needed here. Where am I? What is happening to me?

Slowly he opened his eyes as the sun broke the horizon. Was that all a dream? I wonder... After only a few moments of thought he pushed the dream aside to focus on the day before him. He felt strangely refreshed considing the physical exertion of the previous night, and now was not the time for memories and dreams. It was sunrise, and time to begin the morning routine.

Without giving it another thought Steelight began his morning forms and meditations.

Zeph Blighthunter
Redwyrm Cafeteria and Dorms
Monday Night
Zeph limped off the training grounds, satisfied with how the day had gone thus far. He felt a strange sense of pride in the knowledge that he had been the only student to avoid capture, even in spite of his personal handicaps. In this blinding sense of pride Zeph had failed to even listen to the words of their instructor, caring only that he and Sintan had made it out of the ordeal okay.

The strange pair, goblin and wolf, made their way back to the cafeteria, grabbing a bowl of gruel, quite possibly leftover from the previous meal, but they would have to make due with what they had available to them for the time being. They sat alone in the back corner as usual, hood still drawn up to hide his face, cautious as ever to hide his true form. After a quick meal they left the cafeteria without so much as a glance to the other students and headed for their room.

The rooms were, to say the least, quite plain by the standards of many of the other students, but for a goblin they may as well have been 5 star accommodations. He had a bed, 4 walls, a roof that didn't leak, and even space for his personal belongings. Sintan, however, was still adjusting to sleeping indoors, and would fidget during most of the night in her makeshift bed of a "borrowed" pillow and blanket from the supply rooms. Zeph did what he could to comfort his only friend, ease her mind and help her sleep. Once she had finally calmed down and gone to sleep Zeph set about getting himself ready for bed.

For the first time since waking that morning he took off his cloak, revealing a hideously scarred face, even by goblin standards. Claw marks ran across most of his face, permanent scars of a conflict long passed but not forgotten. He laid in the bed, getting comfortable, and dozed off for a much needed night's rest.

~*~
The forest floor was beneath his feet again, yet the feet that carried him were not his own, he was much lower to the ground, on all fours. The first thing he really noticed was how vivid the scents around him seemed, everything flooded his nasal cavities at once, filling his mind with a smorgasbord of stimuli. He could smell the earth beneath his feet, the sweet smell of flowers in the distance, the pungent aroma of honey dripping from a hive high above him. He looked around, amazed at how clear things seemed. Sintan was, as usual, at his side, but instead of goblin and wolf they stood as equals, a pair of wolves running free.

Then a strong scent snapped him out of this almost euphoric state of calm, a scent he would know anywhere, the scent of goblins. A hunting party of half a dozen or more goblins suddenly jumped into the clearing around them, surrounding them with their superior numbers. They were quick to throw a net over Sintan, trapping her quickly, three of the goblins dragging her off into the woods as the rest closed in on Zeph menacingly. He fought as best he could, easily pulling the legs out from under one goblin and tearing his throat out with his sharp teeth. This move it seemed was to be his downfall though, as the remaining goblins quickly threw a net over him and drug him off in the same direction the others had taken Sintan. They arrived just in time to witness a goblin drive a dagger into her throat, killing her. ~*~

Zeph bolted up out of his slumber, drenched in a cold sweat, looking around desperately to make certain his friend was okay. He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted her over in her corner looking up at him curiously. He slipped out of his bed and drug his own pillow over and laid down on the floor next to Sintan muttering, "...just a dream..." as he faded back out of consciousness again.

Ion left the field depressed. Well that went smashing! He thought to himself. Being jumped by four adversaries was not an incredible way to go down, though he had put up a bit of a fight. The key to using the double bladed sword was controlling distance. Much like the quarterstaff Ion’s chosen weapon had a great reach and versatility. It allowed him to pummel an opponent at a distance with alternating strikes from both ends, but it was hard to control the flow of battle against four opponents in an open field. Perhaps my spell selection was off. Magically Levana did more damage but she didn’t have more luck. I wonder how we could have improved the teamwork. Ion was walking back to his dorm. As it wasn’t a Friday or Saturday night he wasn’t expected at the Red Dragon Inn for his bartending shift and in his current spirits he was probably just going to turn in early. Steelight took command of the fight early on and with a little hesitation the group seemed to fall in order. Though it’s true I did my own thing. Steelight didn’t bother to order me since I have just as much experience. Maybe next time I’ll mention that if he’s taking command then he should coordinate me into his plans. Plans coming from one mind are usually better coordinated than plans coming from two or more. Ion unlocked his room’s door and stepped into his room. As he crossed the threshold he felt the energy that made up a shield placed over the rooms in an effort to keep the students safe. He smiled as he crossed the energy barrier feeling a little more secure. There were reasons he attended a school of adventuring. He gazed at the Spartan room. It had a dresser that upon inspection would be empty, a trunk filled with books and the laundry that belonged in the dresser, a desk and a computer that sat on the desk. In the corner of he room where one would normally find a bed Ion had a giant mass of comfort. It was like a big black blob of pillowiness. On the tag was the word Fuf. Ion plopped down on the Fuf letting it absorb him. The fight had taken a lot out of him. Using magic often did. Ion was from a world where magic was mostly divine and theoretical. His world was one of science. He knew and understood the various systems and computers found on campus, but the only person who knew that was professor O’Leary. Ion had spent a lot of effort and time adjusting to this world; learning of his elven heritage and magic. As a result Ion found that he could use magic, but since he wasn’t used to it he often used more energy than the spell required, so it left him drained whether he cast his full portfolio of spells or not. As the Fuf enveloped Ion and he closed his eyes he felt sleep creep up and over take him.

The sky parted as Ion flew across it. The call to battle rang out clear as a swallow’s call in still morning air. Ion’s dragon roared in answer as it turned with the rest of the dragon squadron. Ion readied his lance and peered into the clouds looking for an enemy dragon rider. This battle would declare the victor of the war and the good guys were winning. Ion heard even as he saw he buzzing motor’s of an old world war two fighter plane buzz cutting the clouds as it passed. Ion prepped his anti-air gun and started shooting. The bullets popped and sizzled as they met the skin of the Fel-Orc which did nothing more than enrage the creature. It let out an awful roar and charged Ion. He spun his blade up neatly decapitating the fifteen year old boy. The child’s eyes opened in surprise as its head departed its body. Ion’s eyes opened in surprise too as the body caught the head and reattached it. Ion stepped forward and entered a spinning attack hopping to shred the wooden dummy. The sun beat down upon his head and it felt like the bed was shaking. Like something was shaking the bed. From the roof Ion watched as a green demon shook the bed and a red demon stared down at he sleeping body. Ion looked closer to the body and realized it was his own six year old form. The demons were attacking him! He willed himself to wake up. As he opened his eyes he stared straight into two glowing green eyes.
Ion woke in a sweat. His will gathered about him and his tap shoes seemed to glow. He looked around the room. Where am I? And as he stared at the Spartan room the last sixteen years came back to him in a rush. Oh yes. Ion climbed out of the Fuf a touch dizzy. He turned on his light and looked about the room. It was as it should have been. Empty. He touched his hand to the wall feeling the hum of the dorm’s shield. It was still active. It was only a dream Or perhaps a memory. Ion wasn’t sure where he dream started and reality began. He hadn’t been sure of that since he was six and had that dream. Ion sighed. I won’t be getting back to sleep tonight. He thought to himself. Funny I dream of demons nightly. Usually fighting them, but a dream of them observing me and I get the willies. Ion slipped his tap shoes on and strapped his sword to his back. He moved the mouse on his computer. One of he things that never ceased to amaze Ion was that the school had both electricity and internet. He checked the time on his computer. 3 A.M. Damn, the Inn’s closed. He opened his door and stepped into the hall. His left hand strayed and stayed on his sword as he locked the door. He knew or at least rusted that he was safe at the Red Wyrm School, but he was in a paranoid mood. There were reasons he was at an adventuring school. He stepped softly but quickly. Amazingly even though he wore tap shoes he didn’t make a sound. I’m good.He thought to himself with a smirk. He snuck from he dormitories keeping an eye out for any professor that might be on duty. One of the things he’d learned early on was that you weren’t in trouble for breaking rules; you were in trouble for getting caught. So Ion took measures not to get caught. He snuck from the dorms to Tann’s Field of Death. As he stepped out of the building he breathed in deep. The night air was sweet. For some reason night air always seemed to hold power to Ion. It smelled better. It awakened his senses. It felt cooler. There was just a touch more energy to it. Ion loved nights. He walked to Tann’s Field with his blade out spinning it across the back of his hand. It was a beautiful blade. The entire weapon was five foot. The foot long hilt was placed in the center and was a simple red leather strap wrapped tightly around a round bit of steel. The blades were each two feet of slightly curved steel. The curve wasn’t noticeable from a distance and looked almost like an optical illusion with a quick glance. Which if you were Ion’s opponent was all you would get. However slight the curve was it made a huge difference when wielding it. Ion’s style wouldn’t adjust well to a rapier. He wasn’t a fencer dancing in a straight line hoping to thrust through his opponents defenses. Ion was twirler. Spinning with the curve of his blade Ion danced across the space available. Instead of thrusting through an opponent’s defense Ion danced around it. Or he smashed through it. By twirling his weapon sanding still Ion seemed to have two blades in close proximity to each other. The follow through on an attack was knocking the opponents defense aside and then using the other end to complete the attack. It was effective and graceful. A can of whoop ass and a show. Ion wasn’t born with this skill though and so he trained regularly. Usually after having that dream. Ion looked around the field. Empty. He hadn’t expected much else. Ion’s night vision was superb. Professor O’Leary said it was his Elven heritage. Ion tapped up an astral dog to spar with. His magical pet knew the drill. This wasn’t the first time Ion had needed to spar. They began with warm-up exercises and continued from there until it looked like they were dancing dodging each other’s blows. The sun began to shine through the horizon and Ion dismissed his sparring partner. Time to shower and see what this day brings. Ion thought sneaking back into the dorms.

Kiirnon Talren
Red Dragon Inn
Monday night
Kiirnon had entered the Red Dragon Inn earlier this evening and was quite at ease. The welcome he received was kind and inviting. He wasn't run out of the establishment, even after he removed his hood and scarf, revealing his Drow heritage. The food was good and the drinks even better. The bar keep provided him with directions to the Red Wyrm School and a free drink on the house. After finishing his meal he enjoyed the music and entertainment for a bit. He couldn't help but notice the women in the establishment. Many were exotic, some a bit more normal, but all were beautiful. He knew he would have to come back here if he got the chance.

Kiirnon had already secured the room quickly after entering, as was his normal paranoid fashion. Then he took of his boots, travelling gear, and shirt. The candle light reflected off his skin revealing the shadowy areas of tattoos on his arms, chest, and back. He did a few stretches to get rid of the weariness from the road and practiced a few moves with his rapier. He stopped when he began to start feeling tired. He now sat at the small desk in the room he was in, jotting down his thoughts in the small journal he had kept in his pack. He recounted the journey here, and the difficulties he had. He wrote about missing his family, and what he might expect at the school. As he was writing he drifted off to sleep...

~*~

Kiirnon found himself on the outskirts of town. A samll child standing at the base of a large tree. He knew that today he was going to make it to the top. He reached up and grabbed one of the lower branches, and hauled himself up. The next brach was just out of reach and he had to overstretch to snag it. He came up just short and fell to the ground. He climbed back up and tried again, this time throwing himself at the branch and barely hanging on. He slowly worked himself up to the point where the braches would support his weight if he stood on them. This was higher than he had ever made it. His heart was racing as he continued to climb. He reached a point where he had to jump to the next sturdy branch. He steadied himself and leapt, landing on a cliff ledge.

The wind was wildly blowing Kiirnon's hair around. He stood facing into the wind and quickly, using a leather thong, tied his hair back into a small ponytail. He then steeled himself as he continued climbing the cliff face. It was a tough climb but he reveled in the excitment of it. He thought he could feel the pulse of the earth beneath him. When he reached the top, he pulled himself over and lay there staring at the sky. A young man enjoying the best nature could offer. When he was ready, he got to his feet and walked toward the center of the plateau he now stood on. At first glance the horizon was empty, but as he walked a building came into focus. When he reached the building he could see it wasn't small, but not very big either. He opened the door and was astonished. The place was huge on the inside. It looked like the grand entry hall of a Dwarven stornghold, but it was completely empty save for a statue on the far wall. As he walked toward the statue, he kept up his guard in case this was a trap. When he got close enough to the statue he realized that it wasn't a statue, but an Elven woman chained to the wall. She was beautiful and was wearing a dress of the finest material he had ever seen. She appeared to be asleep but he could not wake her. He immediately went to work on the locks holding her in place. As he defeated each lock he slowly lowered her to lay on the ground. He suddenly felt tired and layed down beside the woman he had just rescued.

Kiirnon woke up from his sleep, in his bed, next to the beautiful woman he had seen in his dream. He knew her, could trace the curves of her body in his mind. She smelled of spring always, and had a voice that sang to his soul. Of course he knew her, she was his wife, but he thought the dream strange because that is not how he met her. He snuck out of bed and got ready for the day. Today he and his friends would have things to do. After he was done getting ready he soflty kissed his wife on the forehead and walked out the door. When he got to the town square a few of the others were already waiting for him. The steely eyed monk, with the burning inner fire, was leaning against a statue. He gave Kiirnon a head nod as he approached. The she wolf sat nearby, and he wondered where her master could be. The others had not arrived yet, but he thought he could see one of the halflings aproaching from the other side of the square.

Kiirnon started to speak to the monk as a darkness enveloped the town and everything went quiet except the chirping of birds....

~*~
Kiirnon opened his eyes to find himself back in the room at the inn. He thought to himself that he had such a vivid dream. So much of it seemed familiar, but then again the only thing he knew was real was the tree from when he was young. He got up and quickly got dressed and began packing his things away. When he went to close his journal, he noticed a perfect sketch of the woman from his dreams. Below it were scrawled the words, "Tomorrow starts a new day, and a step closer to finding my place to fit in." He closed the book and threw it in his pack with a smile on his face. He headed down to the dining room of the inn for a bite to eat before leaving for the school. As he left, he pulled up his scarf and hood setting out along the road to the school as the sun broke the horizon.

Professor O'Leary
Director's Office & Large Auditorium
Week 1: Tuesday Morning
It was early, but Merideth had already been awake for several hours. Outside gray light draped over the campus, threatening rain later in the day. For now though it held off, leaving the skies dark and pregnant.

She sipped her coffee and looked over at the young man seated before her. He was a day late. Promptness was something she found to be admirable and did not disguise her disappointment that he was not living up to her expectations thus far. Her nails rapped over the heavy wood of her desk. Today she sat behind it, not with the new student in one of the high backed chairs as she had done the day prior.

“I am sure you have some excuse as to why you did arrive yesterday with the other new students…” she began.

Kiirnon sat in the chair across the heavy wood desk, from the professor. He was still wearing his travelling gear, with his cloak hood pulled up and his scarf still covering most of his face. His jet black hair, with a few wisps of white, hung down obscuring most of the rest of his face. He was nervous and lowered his head, ashamed for making a bad first impression. When he spoke it was in a calm, husky voice.

"M'lady I apologize for my tardiness. Any excuse I can offer you would be just that, an excuse," he answered as he raised his head and the dim light reflected in his purplish eyes.

"The truth is I got a bit lost and ran into some difficulties along my travels here."

He reached up and pulled his hood from his head and removed his scarf, revealing his slate gray skin. "You see I am not really welcome many places and had to take a few detours," he said as he ran his fingers through his hair moving the loose strands from his face, and fully revealing the features of his drow heritage.

Merideth watched as the new student pulled back his hood and revealed to her his dark skin. She nodded as she listened to his explanation; even as she got distracted for a moment by the way he ran his hands through his hair.

I wonder what Eled would think of this one...
A smile tried to creep across her lips but she turned it down into a frown and tried to maintain the professional scowl she had worked hard over the years to develop.

"I arrived at the nearby Red Dragon Inn last evening. There I was finally welcomed somewhere. I got a decent meal, directions here, and a room. I set out here just after sunrise."

"No need to dramatize your heritage for me. I knew of it before you were even considered for this school. If it makes your life difficult that is for you to figure out, not me. You'll find that all of the students here have something about them, their blood, and their past that makes life difficult. I've found that those who are at peace with who they are become farmers not great adventurers.”

Kiirnon shifted a bit in the chair. He was a bit uncomfortable. This was alot different than his grandfather's lessons and punishments. As he was watching the professor before him he thought he saw a hint of a smile, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"I hope you enjoyed the food at the Inn for you will find the amenities not so great here. But they will be enough to keep you sustained. I will get one of the other students to show you around later.

"So long as this tardiness is a onetime occurrence I think you will do well here. Did you have questions for me before we get you into your first class?"

"It was not my intention to dramatize my heritage. I didn't think that you had already known. I guess I should have realized"

What she had said made sense to him. He had to find his own way to deal with his problems. A bit of confidence returned to him then as he spoke again.

"Part of my reason for accepting the invitation here was to find a place to fit in. Not entirely to be at peace, but to be accepted among those outside of my family.

"I must say the food at the Inn was good, but I wasn't expecting the same treatment here. I was kind of figuring on gruel and bread.

"I hope to redeem myself for my tardiness. If I am to receive a tour later, I assume I will get the ins and outs of the school then. Other than being on time, are there any pressing rules I should know now? What are my classes? Where am I to sleep?"

Kiirnon had many questions but he didn't want to push his luck. He figured he would have time to figure things out as the days went by.

She carefully eyed him while he spoke. Noting the surge of confidence he took on. Feigning disinterest though she let her gaze move to the full suit of armor by the door, and watched him only out of her periphery vision.

"I cannot promise you a place of acceptance beyond your family. That will be up to you.

"I am glad to hear that you find gruel and bread acceptable, for that is what we serve here. Sometimes with a maggot or two for added protein. Those who complain about that sleep in the unwashed pots. Those who don't complain... Well they sleep in the barn. I like my horse to have company.

"Classes... we try to find time to get a few classes in between your duties scrubbing the floors..."

Slowly she let her eyes refocus on him and smiled. "You'll have your own room in the dormitories. We have a variety of classes. There is combat training nearly every afternoon in preparation for our competition against another school. Other than that the classes change regularly so nothing becomes stagnant."

Kiirnon was a bit taken aback by the bit about sleeping in the barn. Then he saw the professor smile and his nervousness about being here at the school, and being away from everything he had known faded. He sensed that despite being harsh with him about the tardiness, this professor was a fair and pleasant person. He made a mental note to speak with her if he ever had any troubles.

Kiirnon noted she said that he would have a dorm room, and wondered about a roommate. He liked the thought of combat training. Then he thought about what kind of classes they had and how much he would be able to learn.

"I have two last questions. First, will I have a roommate? I don't really care, but was just curious. Second, what kind of rules do I need to follow while here? I don't want to get into any more trouble."

Kiirnon sat for a moment thinking... “I guess with that I am ready for whatever you have in store for me next."

“You’ll have a room to yourself. As for rules…” She smiles and shrugs, “you can carry your weapons with you, but I warn you against using them or magic against any of the fellow students outside of training. Show up to class on time, don’t complain about the food… and… oh you’ll figure it out. I’ve got a class to run, and you don’t want to be late.”

She rose and beckoned for him to follow her.

Thirty minutes later Kiiron and the other students sat in an auditorium, listening to Merideth drone on.

“… and so I think you will see the necessity of properly assessing what environment you will adventuring in and planning your gear appropriately. No one wants to end up in the dessert without water or in a snowy mountain range without plenty of furs. Now… if you will stay with me a bit longer I would like to go over the differences between armor types and how…”

The door to the auditorium opened and a young woman came stumbling into the room. “Professor O’leary!” She interrupted, throwing her hands up into the air.

Merideth propped her hand on her doe skin covered him and stared at her expectantly.

“It’s the imps Professor! They’ve revolted! It is terrible! The vault is in chaos! None of the fate rollers are working… the dwarven name generator is spitting out confetti covered in Christian Biblical names, and all of the Trek characters have started creating taverns and are getting drunk on mulled wine!”

The bright blue eyes of the professor turn and glimmer as she looks over her students, and grinned, “Up for the challenge?”

Day-1 night time to Day 2 morning
Darkon
Dorm room (Day 1)-Audience chamber (Day 2)

Darkon lugged himself off to his Dorm after getting beat up on the feild of death. He was pondering what had been wrong with his stance, his forms, his attacks. He was trying to figure out what had gone so horribly wrong when he felt a slight force as he was entering his room. It wasn't very strong against him but it felt like a defense shield. Intresting he thought to himself. I wonder what it blocks and what it lets through. He shock his head and decided to let it be for now and try and expirement with it in the early morning after he had tranced for a few hours. He quickly went deep into meditating.


It happened very suddenly, which was the first odd event to occur. He looked around his dreamscape as he wondered why he hadn't slowly flowed into it as he normally did. The his curiosity turned to shock as he saw his dream. Elves fought vicously at one another using bows, swords, magic, and even fists if neccesary to destroy each other. It looked as if nature had turned against itself and the land looked scarred, as if wounded by there fighting. At the head of the battle was his mom and dad. Each one trying to kill the other using scimitars, Darkon's scimitars. As they sunk they're blades into each other they turned as one and looked at him and said in unison "This death was caused by you, you ran while we died for justice. Why didn't you help us?" Darkon backed away in shock and horror and said "I tried to help, can't you see?" The noise of batle became to much for him and he took a step back only to find himself falling sliping through a newly rent fissure in the ground. His thoughts as he fell through were "Wherever i'm going at least it's better than here".

Day 2

He awoke from the trance in a cold sweat the likes of which he had never felt before. Why, why, why were the thoughts going through his head. Why did I dream about my parents now of all times. He relized that it was because he felt weak in the feild of death, just like he did back in his old village. He tried to shake the unpleasent thoughts from his head. He hadn't ever actually seen his parents fight each other back home. Though black thoughts still managed to creep in telling him that they had been on opposite sides of the schism. He mused to himself most parents disown the child, not the other way around, as he had done. He went and showered the sweat off him, and on the way heard Ion practicing in the field. He realized that he should be doing that, practicing to increase his skill so he wouldn't be so helpless next time. He was just about to call out to him to spar agianst each other, when his hands reached his scimitars and he remebered his parents weilding them. He paused and thought next time, maybe, just not now, not after seeing that. He went off to the showers got changed and put on his chainmail as he always did. Never leave home without it he thought to himself. He looked at his scimitars for a momment. Should he even where them when all he was doing was going down to the assembly chamber, but he never went anywhere without them. Still after that dream... No he thought vicously to himself, i'm not going to let them scare me. They didn't control me there and they certainly didn't control him here He thought to himself angrily as he slid them into place in defiant rage. He then went off to the assembly chamber.

In the assembly hall

Of course he realized as he heard Proffeser O Leary tell them about the mastakes they made on the field. We wern't well enough prepared to the area, next time though. Then The door to the auditorium opened and a young woman came stumbling into the room. “Professor O’leary!” She interrupted, throwing her hands up into the air.

Merideth propped her hand on her doe skin covered him and stared at her expectantly.

“It’s the imps Professor! They’ve revolted! It is terrible! The vault is in chaos! None of the fate rollers are working… the dwarven name generator is spitting out confetti covered in Christian Biblical names, and all of the Trek characters have started creating taverns and are getting drunk on mulled wine!”

The bright blue eyes of the professor turn and glimmer as she looks over her students, and grinned, “Up for the challenge?”

This was the chance that we'd all been waiting for to show that we were better than what we had done on the practice field. I wasn't the most experienced person in the group, but I saw that as no reason to stop me from taking command. I jumped to my feet and said "yes we are." I looked around and quickly formulated a plan. In a confident voice I said "Ion, you know about the systems here right? Good" I say without waiting for his reply "Briar your good at sneaking around and getting into machinery right? You two are with me as we try to fix the Fate Roller and then we’ll move on to the Dwarven name generator, teaching any imps along the way a thing or two” I say as I crack my knuckles. I turn to the rest of the group “Steelight, Levanna, and don’t know either of you two names, go out and stop the Trek characters and sort out the Vault” As I look at them I notice that both the two people who I don’t know the names of our covered up as if they’re trying to let nobody find out who they are. I’ll worry about that later I think to myself. I start running out the door and cry out “Let’s kick some imp ass guys” as I run out the door and towards the Fate Roller.

Steelight Shadowborne
Redwyrm Auditorium
Week 1 - Tuesday morning
"Well isn't he a bit upity this morning." Steelight slowly stands, no sign of urgency anywhere in his expression or his movements. "And what was that about being prepared when entering an encounter?" He smiles slightly to himself. "Professor, as our overzealous acquaintance has said, we'll find a way to handle it. it's not like this is the first time they've revolted." In fact they are pretty much revolting all of the time.
As he begins to walk out of the room he turns to the rest. "For those of you who don't have silver weapons, I suggest you stop by the storeroom and pick up some alchemical silver to coat your weapons with. Imps tend to be particularly vulnerable to it. And..." he turns his attention to the spellcasters of the group. "Fire is wasted on them unless you have flames more powerful than most first year students are capable of. Just a tip." Well, at least I actually did learn something in one of my classes.
Without another word he turns and heads out to the armory himself. I hate stooping to the use of weapons. But in some cases I suppose it is necessary. I may have to swindle a few imps to get them though.

The Armoury
Week 1: Tuesday Morning

The doors of the Armoury, while thrown open, were blocked by a crowd of imps. Their squat forms moved constantly in a throng back and forth before the doors. In their short grubby little fingers they held wooden poles that ended in placards above their squashed little faces:

‘Oppression No Longer!’

‘Harmonized Socks!’

‘Long Respites!’

‘Slumberous Night Conditions’

‘Inaudible Zone!’

‘Butterflies’

‘Qualitative Compensations!’

Read some of them, and the others followed along the same line of chaotic vocabulary terms.

Beyond this group of protestors the foyer to the Armoury, and the disastrous state it was in, could be seen by the group of student adventurers. Billows of steam roiled across the floor carrying damp bits of confetti in their wake. The three doors that led off the foyer were all closed.

Steelight Shadowborne
Armory
Week 1 - Tuesday
Steelight walks brazenly to the picket line of imps, a stern and angry expression on his face. Hopefully these guys remember my reputation and will think better of getting in my way. Without saying a word or even lookig at the imps themselves he attempts to step through the line, heading in the direction or the right-hand door, eyes focused on his goal (though attempting to be keenly aware of the reactions and movements of the imps).

(should any imp attempt to bar his way he offers them a stern and silent glare that promises a painful trip back across the planes. Intimidate +3. If that doesn't work I will attempt to Tumble (+8 ) through them to get to the door and slam it shut behind me if I make it.)

Steelight runs out of the room the moment that Professor O’Leary hands the problem over to the students. He does not wait around to listen to Darkon’s plans. Sliding down the hallway he stops just short of the mass of imps picketing outside of the vault. Rising up to his full height he scowls at them and then moves to press through the throng.

Very few, however, even seem to notice him, so wrapped up in their shouts and their marching. Instead of clearing a path for him they simple tumble underfoot. Sighing he gives up. Changing his tactic he ducks and maneuvers through the throng with deft skill, cutting a line through them when they would not acquiesce one to him. He rolls into the main room and goes for the far right door. Upon it the words ‘Fate’ has been scrawled. Steelight stretches out his hand and opens the door quickly.

Behind him the other students have followed at a slower pace. Just as they arrive and start to pile through the thin ravine their fellow student cut through the mob. They do not get very far, however. The gigantic twenty-sided dice that crashed out of the door Steelight opened comes crashing into them. In its path Steelight has fallen prone. The surprise of the massive purple object careening out of the darkness at his head threw him off and to the ground. It rolls toward the other students. Ion being first in its path also falls prone, his arm temporarily getting squashed in its tumble. Beside him Zeph gets glanced by its side, crashing to the ground as well as his broken limbs fail to keep him out of danger. Recognizing the danger Briar and Darkon move quickly out of the way, yelling out in surprise and taking two imps back with them. Other imps are not so lucky, however and fall before the die. They finally stop its tumultuous movement just as it comes face to face with Levanna and Kiiron. They are pushed back a step before it fully stops but left standing.

The crowd has stopped its now and stands, in awe as the die settles itself in the hallway.

((Current status:
Steelight – prone with minor injuries near the ‘Fate’ door
Ion & Zeph – prone with minor injuries amongst the imps before the Vault
Briar & Darkon – no injuries, standing in the middle of the mob
Levanna & Kiiron – standing in the hall, before the finally stopped die))

Zeph Blighthunter
Various areas within the school
Tuesday Morning
The night passed for the Goblin and his companion rather uneventfully, no further dreams, no other disturbances. Zeph stood up from his spot on the floor and immediately set to putting his old, worn out leather armor on as he did every morning. Always be prepared for a fight, he thought to himself. This was the personal motto he had lived by for a long time and it had served him well thus far. With his armor on he set to gathering his weapons, only to be interrupted by a low whine from Sintan. Realizing that she needed more than just the meager gruel they had been eating he dug up some dried meat he had stashed away, something else he had "borrowed" late one night during his first year here, and gave her a few pieces to hold her over. Now, with her occupied with that snack, Zeph once again went back to gathering up his weapons, scimitar on one hip, morning star on the other, bow and quiver across his back, and a couple daggers hidden away in boot sheaths. With everything secured in its proper place the scarred Goblin grabbed his cloak, draped it over his shoulders and pinned it in place with the bone cloak pin holding it in place. Now that he was physically ready for his day it was time to prepare on a more spiritual level. Taking a seat on the floor he watched Sintan eat the last bits of jerky, focusing his mind on the power of nature and the power it would share with him. (Preparing usual spells for the day)

Once Sin was finished with the last bit of meat Zeph rose slowly to his feet and with his companion at his heels headed out the door toward his morning class, making certain to pull his hood up to hide his face as usual. Once he arrived in the Lecture Hall he took his usual seat toward the back of the room and motioned for Sin to take her place near him.

Though he tried and tried to give Professor O'Leary his fullest attention he could not help but zone out as she droned on and on about environmental hazards and the like. He reminded himself that her experience and wisdom may prove invaluable, but he could not help but think that she could at least pepper the lectures with anecdotes of personal experiences and the like to make them more entertaining.

When the doors were flung open and another student came panting into the room Zeph welcomed the distraction and interruption. However his hopes for excitement were quickly dashed when the student explained the reasoning behind the intrusion. The imps are at it again huh? Nothing new there... His personal thoughts were rudely interrupted when the Elf-kin known as Darkon jumped up and began spewing some madness about some screw-brain plan he had. The Goblin merely drowned him out as he turned to Sintan and asked her, "Are you ready for this?" The wolf gave him a knowing look and stood up, waiting patiently for him to stand up as well, and they both headed for the open door.

Somehow he found himself toward the front of the group, close to the dancing Elf-kin much to his disgust. The three of them, the Goblin, wolf, and half-elf, arrived at the odd little picket line just in time to witness the pushy human monk open the door marked "FATE" and watched in horror as an enormous violet polyhedron came tumbling down the hall toward them. Usually his reflexes served him better, but today he managed to bump into Sintan as he attempted to dodge, knocking her over and still managing to get struck down by the die. Pain shot through his leg as a couple of the spikes from his morning star were forced through his armor and into his thin leg by the force of the fall, he could feel the blood slowly running down his leg under the armor. Sintan was up before him, and ever the loyal companion, was there to help Zeph to his feet, offering him a hand hold and just enough leverage to pull himself up off the floor.

As he pulled himself up from the ground a thought occurred to him, The imps are constantly revolting, and it seems every time it happens the administration and students always think violence is the only answer... It seems to me that these poor creatures are unhappy, perhaps even mistreated by these oppressive humans and such... Suddenly the imps didn't seem like an obstacle but instead kindred spirits. With this new outlook on things fresh in his mind Zeph began helping up a few of the wounded imps. Perhaps even this one, albeit foolish, act of kindness would even do more than any amount of violence. The whole time he was doing this he failed to realize that his hood had fallen down during his fall and his face was no longer hidden.

The die was an unexpectd surprise. I did open the right door didn't I? After a quick glance into the room, seeing the weapons and armor therein he was certain. He coiled his entire body up like a spring, his weight on his hands. In a single, fluid motion he kipped up back to his feet and moved into the room beyond the door. After a quick search he found the nunchaku he was looking for, grabbed them and tucked them in his belt. Now effectively armed agains tthe denizens of the outer plans he stepped back out of the room.

"ENOUGH!" his voice carried over the din of surprised imps and confused students alike. "Imps of the Redwyrm School, I would like to remind you that you are on the mortal plane purely because the heads of this school have called you. You are free at any time to return to the hells that spawned you if you do not like your lot in life here. I'm sure there are plenty of others who would be more than willing to take your place. Most of you are relatively intelligent, so I would assume this is something you already know. So are we to take this revolt as an attempt to abuse the privilidges that have been given to you? If so I assure you, your revolt will be met with the same resistance it always has, and many of you will be banished back to the hells, forbidden to even enter this plane again for a century."

As he speaks he slowly, confidently approaches the gathered imps. His voice growing a bit softer after the last statement.

"You have two choices here my friends. You can go back to the tasks you have been summoned for, and send a single representative to discuss your complaints which will be appropriately addressed, or you can keep on with this disruptive behavior. Should you choose the later, I assure you, neither the faculty or the students will tolerate such disruption for long. Make your choice, and be prepared to reap the whirlwind of your decision. For we are more than willing and able to follow either path."

The dark promise in his eyes showing the truth of the thinly veiled threat. And though he makes no move to reach for his silvered weapons, it is clear which path he would prefer they choose.

Zeph Blighthunter
Outside Armory
Tuesday Morning
As the pushy monk came back from the other room with weapons, Zeph gave Sintan a quick look, a look that said to be ready for anything. He helped up the last of the imps and stood facing Steel, giving him a piercing glare.

"No human, that is enough from you! Perhaps you have taken too many blows to the head during your training, but did it ever occur to you that violence and threats are not the only options we have in dealing with the situation?! You are all the same, if something is not like you then it is only fit to work for you or be walked all over. Clearly something is making these poor imps, who even you have admitted are intelligent, revolt regularly. Look around you and think before acting for once in your miserable existence. The imps were not even the only ones effected by your rash decision to resort first to threats of violence and banishment, your Elf-kin friend here, myself, and almost the rest of these students were all struck down by your choice to act without thinking."

Zeph knew, deep in his black empty heart, that this would not sit well with the monk, and so prepared himself (as in declared Dodge) just in case the fool chose once again to act before thinking, this time against him rather than the imps.

Steelight looks to the goblin at that unexpected remark. Then with predatory grace and deliberate steps he crosses the room. (Intimidating any imps to get out of his way) The last 20 feet he covers in a flash, lashing out at the diminuative (and loud mouthed) goblin with a fast palm strike to the chest. Using the rebound of the strike the trained monk springs backwards, putting a short distance between them waiting for the attacking wolf to come to its "master's" aid.

When he speaks, the words seeth with anger. His voice is low and his stance ready.

"You do not listen spawn of bile, treachery and uselessness. They were given an option. You will not be granted the same choice. No one speaks down to me and lives."

Only darkness and simmering rage appear on his face. In the end, one will remain. For never again will Steelight submit to anyone's commands or ridicule.

(The attack will be a stunning fist strike, and yes we did discuss this possibililty in the Q&A)