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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (133/?)
🕑 Added 2025-06-15 16:59:50 +0000 UTCThe canvas cloth was ripped off with a theatrical flourish—
FWOOOSH!
—and a bombastic announcement.
“BEHOLD!” Sorecar announced with a clangy resonant glee, both of his hands gesturing excitedly at a motorcycle body that floated proudly, confidently, and most of all — radiantly — above an alabaster pillar.
It looked… unreal — like something out of a VR sim. A legendary end-game item bobbing up and down in mid air, rotating slowly, ominously, as if it was ready to be inexplicably added to my inventory just by walking into it.
I half expected a little item unlocked chime to ring at any moment.
Dah-na-na-NAAAAAHH!
…
Which it did.
It took me a second to really come back down from the sheer shock factor that came with Sorecar’s bombastic showmanship, as the mana radiation signatures now peaked to a variable baseline of at least 300 percent at any given moment.
The source of this localized mana radiation burst was painfully obvious.
But I found it difficult to be offended, let alone mad at Sorecar for his handiwork.
This… was quite literally the legacy of the V4c after all — destined to be modded and upgraded in ways that its original Martian manufacturers could’ve never imagined.
What appeared before me was simply the next stage in its evolution. As the motorcycle now transcended not just its original spec-sheets or manufacturer guidelines, but conventional physics itself.
It was literally glowing and bleeding mana for crying out loud…
But I knew that was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to Sorecar’s modifications, at least, as far as I could see.
The first thing to really hit me was what I could only describe as its racing stripes — long horizontal lines that started large and bold before tapering off sharply into triangular points at the very end of the bodywork where the radiators would go.
These stripes, while shocking at first… slowly grew on me. Consisting of pure UN-white, set against the more modern and conventional GUN deep-blue. However, what really made it pop — and what was most certainly not UN-reg — was its bold and gutsy red outlines; what were essentially thin, quarter-inch thick lines of ruby red paint that ran around the very outer ‘edges’ of the bodywork.
This gave the whole thing a more… racing-kit sorta vibe, adding to an aura that was far removed from the neutral and inoffensive blues and whites of its original color scheme.
Though to be fair… it did—
“The color palate matches your armor, Emma.” Thalmin commented, breaking the silence as Sorecar let out an excited squeal of joy.
“I’m so glad you noticed, Prince Havenbrock!” He exclaimed with a triumphant jump.
“It really does…” I finally chimed in, my eyes quickly honing in on the next major modification — what could only be described as a metallic-wax seal set atop of a thick piece of parchment beneath it.
Or more accurately… the approximately twenty or so medieval-esque seals complete with parchments and inscriptions that now adorned every flat surface of the bodywork.
The EVI quickly went into overdrive trying to translate each one, while my own mind raced trying to just process the number of pages that’d take up my localized modification itemized list report.
However, that wasn’t even the end of it. Or rather, that wasn’t at all the most impressive part of the heavily modified bodywork
Indeed, you’d be remiss if I didn’t address the single most Nexian thing about this.
The—
“AH! I see you’ve noticed the fruits of my artistically-inclined side!” Sorecar beamed out, his armor once again rattling from the inside out, as he placed himself behind me, before excitedly pointing at the object of my newfound fixation.
The GUN emblem.
Or rather, the most overly-detailed, heavily-aggrandized, medieval-fantasy rendition of the GUN emblem.
It was… by all measures, one of the most glorious takes I’ve seen of it yet.
Because while the original GUN flag had already veered dangerously away from the ‘ideal’ vexillological standards… Sorecar’s take on it outright spat, stomped, and then kicked those rules right out of the local cluster.
The Earth-Luna combo that sat at the heart of the emblem had been replaced by a raised, embossed, hyper-colorful artistic rendition of Earth’s surface — colored in by someone who had never once seen Earth or had any frame of reference for it. And while Earth turned out surprisingly well — consisting of vibrant greens, deep yellows, and a smattering of reds, browns, and even splotches of purple here and there — Luna had taken a complete 180 on its typical depictions.
Whereas the grand and influential moon was always depicted as this stark, no-nonsense, all-business white and grey in most conventional media… Sorecar had simply gone wild with his interpretation of this small yet influential celestial body.
Because for all intents and purposes… he’d simply depicted it as this bright, glowing, sun.
A sun with undulating colors that acted almost like a headlamp for the motorcycle itself.
… despite there already being a hole where the headlights would later go into.
It was… absolutely insane.
In all the best ways possible.
Moreover, I was utterly fascinated by the man’s interpretations of the emblem just by visual sight of it alone, with no context, no references, or anything.
The cultural exchange potential, and the sheer artistic weight behind this quite seriously shook me.
Which was why when Sorecar started elbowing me insistently, egging me on for a response, I had but one thing to say.
“This is beautiful.” I spoke in no uncertain terms, complete with an air of breathlessness and genuine shock.
“You really think so?” Sorecar responded nervously, having only watched me silently analyze every square inch of the bodywork for what was probably a solid ten minutes now.
“Yeah! Honestly, this… this really goes above and beyond.” I offered, though my tone of voice very clearly gave away the ‘but’ that was soon to follow.
“Though I assume you wish to know exactly what liberties I’ve taken, correct?” Sorecar offered, prompting me to reply with a single nod.
“Yup. So… the emblem I get. In fact, it’s honestly the part I most enjoy out of all of this.” I turned to Sorecar proper, making sure to make ‘eye contact’ with the professor… as much as that was possible, given the obvious limitations. “Your artistic skills are objectively impressive, Sorecar.”
This preamble caused the professor to rattle in place, slow at first, before ramping up in speed, eventually ending up in a series of rapid-fire tip-toe stomps. “I am flattered, Emma! Thank you! I will be honest, the emblem ended up taking me as much time as the enchantments themselves!”
“Er, on that note! Maybe we should jump through that particular rabbit hole.” I offered, garnering a nod from Sorecar as he excitedly ushered us closer towards the floating bodywork.
“So… let’s start off with the elephant in the room here.” I paused, before pointing bluntly towards one of the wax-paper seals. “What are those?”
“Yeah, what are those?” Thalmin chimed in too, clearly hinting at the fact that this wasn’t your typical run of the mill enchantment.
“Ah! Yes yes. These are the tell-tale signs of a man long past his prime!” Sorecar boisterously laughed in response. “For you see, these are both something of an anachronism, both culturally and magically! They are… what my former contemporaries once called — Firstmark seals.”
Thalmin’s eyes widened at that, cocking his head as he did so. “Professor… exactly how old did you say you were again?”
“Ah ah ah! Manners Prince Havenbrock, manners! You’d never ask one of your distant relatives their age, would you?” Sorecar retorted brightly, prompting the prince to simply narrow his eyes.
“I am, however, quite glad that someone of your age still remembers them! Even if it is by name alone… though I cannot help but to feel somewhat crestfallen if such a time-honored tradition truly is no longer observed… Bah! No matter! Cadet Emma Booker!” Sorecar once more turned towards me—
“Hmm… no…”
—before simply turning back to Thalmin. “Prince Havenbrock! Perhaps you could tell Cadet Booker what you know of Firstmark Seals, hmm?”
“Of course.” Thalmin dipped his head slightly, before turning in my direction. “From what my Great Uncle has told me, they’re something of an ancient tradition observed in the Nexus. A… blessing of sorts but from no god in particular. It’s honestly more akin to a sort of holy guarantee between the spirits that be, the armorer in question, and the commissioning client. Though, beyond that, I also heard that they were also a form of cheap enchantment — one infamous for their poor quality and shoddy reliability.” Thalmin spoke earnestly. “Apologies if that was offensive, professor. You wished to inquire what I knew of them, after all.”
Sorecar, however, didn’t once show any signs of offense, as he merely responded with another solid clap of his hands.
“Very good, Prince Havenbrock! Fifty points! Er… that is… if I still have the ability to assign points outside of class.” The man shrugged. “Gah! No matter, no matter! Yes! You are quite right! At least… as it pertains to the former half of your explanation! For you see, your latter points are clearly constructed from misinformation that have accumulated over the course of millenia! Reviews from clients who knew not what they were ordering! Feedback from proprietors who understood not what they were selling! And of course, scathing criticisms from would-be riders and drivers who clearly did not read the manual nor listened to the armorer’s primers!” Sorecar ranted, before letting out a metallic sigh more reminiscent of a train whistle going off. “Apologies! I simply feel… slighted, that the prevailing sentiments of such a time-honored technique is now dominated by the loud minority of ignorant nay-sayers.”
Thalmin and I turned to each other for a moment, exchanging confused, worried looks, before Sorecar continued.
“In any case, what they actually are, are not enchantments… but rather, enhancements — single-use performance boosters for the passive enchantments already imbued within the bodywork itself! Primed to activate once the enchantments beneath reach their natural limits!”
“Ah.” Both Thalmin and I responded simultaneously.
“Yes! Though I would’ve been a bit more verbose than ‘Ah’, myself.” The armorer giggled.
“Well that explains the idiots.” Thalmin chided. “They attempted to evaluate enhancement seals as fully-realized enchantments.”
“Exactly, Prince Havenbrock!” Sorecar nodded profusely.
“Though I can also see why these enhancements fell off.” Thalmin added just as quickly, causing Sorecar’s expressions and movements to quite literally ‘freeze’ in place.
“I… I’m sorry?”
“You can get enchantments nowadays with similar results. These… enhancements… are somewhat redundant now.” Thalmin reasoned.
“Well… yes… but… they are oh so… inelegant!” The professor shot back. “Where is the artistry? The craftsmanship? The physical and tangible representation of these abilities? Bah!” Sorecar paused, turning to evade our eyes, if only for a moment. “And er… these enchantments you speak of take much more time to prepare. Firstmark Seals are far, far more forgiving given such short notice.”
I turned to lock eyes with Thalmin again, only to shrug simultaneously.
“Well… perhaps we could get into exactly what enchantments you’ve cooked up for me?” I offered, deftly pulling the armorer out of his little tangent.
“Of course! Well, as you can see here, I’ve taken the liberty of going through the typical roster of enchantments for a conveyance! These ruby-red filigrees are for fire and lightning damage protection. The metal itself is manasteel infused in my own personal infusion! Thereby giving it unparalleled lightness, as well as resistance to piercing, slashing, and even blunt force damage!”
I nodded along with each of those points, before pointing at the white stripes.
“And the stripes?”
“Ah! They’re to make your conveyance go faster!”
I blinked rapidly, once more turning to face Thalmin. Though the prince could only cock his head in confusion.
“That was… a joke, Emma.” Sorecar offered sheepishly.
For a moment, I considered feigning a laugh just out of politeness. Then I realized it’d probably make the whole situation that much more awkward.
“Well… are you still debating whether or not to take it, Emma?” Thalmin interjected, saving us from a growing awkward silence.
“You kidding? Of course not! Sure it’s massively against regs… but given the leeway I’ve been granted, all I’ll really be losing here is a few hours of my life at the altar of the all-mighty weekly action report!” I chuckled. “What’s more… a thought slowly occurred to me today. I’m sure we’ll have to come across some sort of a checkpoint along our journey right? Either at a portal or town gate or something?”
“That’s correct.” Thalmin nodded.
“Right, so, they’d obviously be confused by my armor as it is. Imagine their further confusion if they also have to wrap their heads around a manaless conveyance capable of autonomous motion.”
Thalmin’s eyes widened as he quickly grasped where I was going with this. “The enchantments will allow you to hide in plain sight, drawing less suspicion, by virtue of the motorcycle superficially resembling any other enchanted conveyance.”
“Bingo!” I exclaimed.
Sorecar’s ‘grin’ grew to even greater extents now, as I let out a sly sigh. “I bet that was one of the justifications behind this whole thing, wasn’t it, Sorecar?”
“Indeed it was!” He beamed.
“Right, then it’s decided. I’ll take the bodywork!” I announced excitedly, before dipping my head in respect. “Thank you for all the effort you’ve put into this project. If there’s anything I can do to—”
“There is.” Sorecar interjected immediately, his tone conveying an excited yet mischievous intent.
“Er… okay? Shoot.” I responded warily.
With no further words exchanged, the armorer quickly grabbed two large wheels from behind one of his many workstations.
I didn’t need any further explanations to realize exactly what the man wanted me to do.
“Please consider—”
I sighed out teasingly, smiling all the while. “What have you cooked up for the tires?”
“Unpuncturable rubber, naturally-adaptive omni-terrain slime coating, fire tires, and more.” He beamed.
“I’ll take it… on the condition that you remove the fire tires. Oh, and also the glowing sun emblem. I’m going to need you to at least turn off the glowing there too.”
“Deal.” Sorecar acknowledged with a grin, reaching over to shake my hand. “You can find the rest of the less fantastical modifications listed in a manual I wrote for you!” The armorer handed me a surprisingly thick booklet. Which, thankfully, had some technical illustrations held within.
“With all that being said, I think I should get going, Sorecar. I really wouldn’t want to take up more of your time, and I have the motorcycle to finalize and—”
“Ahem.” Thalmin interrupted, garnering both of our attentions. “There’s the matter of your melee weapon which we must discuss, Emma.”
“Oh. OH yeah! Right! Er… but isn’t that cutting it a little too short Thalmin? I mean, the trip is tomorrow, I’m not sure if Sorecar can whip up something—”
“OHOHOHO! Is this another time-sensitive challenge I hear?” The armorer bellowed out.
“I mean… he does have quite a fair few weapons already available, Emma.” Thalmin gestured around us. Which… to his credit, he did have a point.
“Eh… I honestly don’t think I can be that effective with a melee weapon this late into the process, Thalmin.” I offered genuinely. “It takes months, if not years to master a martial art, right? I’d be more of a liability than anything if I tried flailing a sword around without proper training. And while I know that you can provide that, that’s a story for when we return. Besides, I still have my knife, so with that being said—”
“Your knife does not have enough reach to be effective in a real-world melee, Emma.” Thalmin countered. “But I do see your—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes quickly turning towards the rack of spears across from us. “—point.”
The lupinor paused, as a sly grin started forming at the edges of his snout, followed by an all-out cackle.
Confusion hit me first.
Then, barely a second later, a moment of realization dawned.
At which point, I responded not with words, but a series of uncontrolled wheezes that complemented Thalmin’s lupine cackling.
Goober-to-goober communication had just been established… and poor Sorecar was left confused in our wake.
“Please don’t tell me you’re thinking what I’m thinking…” I mumbled out, as Thalmin went to reach for one of the long speer handles, pointing at the empty end of it.
“You can keep your knife, Emma. But we’re going to add some reach to it by sticking it to the end of a spear. Removable, of course. So that you can choose what configuration you’d prefer.”
“That is the wildest and most inelegant solution I’ve ever heard from you so far…” I managed out between laughs. “And I fricking love it.”
It was around that point that Sorecar appeared behind us, placing two gloved hands on either of our shoulders.
“What’s this about a knife, Cadet Emma Booker?” He questioned ominously through a tinny breath. “You didn’t think to declare it on grace week, now did you?” He urged, squeezing our shoulders in the process.
“It’s a manaless blade, Professor.” Thalmin countered defiantly, through a cocky, confident breath. One that looked almost too regal for him.
“Oh is that so?” Sorecar continued, cocking his helmet in my direction with a loud creak.
“Yup!” I nodded. “See?” I pulled out the knife for added effect. “No mana. Besides, I didn’t think to declare it since I saw it more as a utility thing than a proper ceremonial weapon. You wouldn’t want students to start declaring anything and everything from hair pins to toothpicks, would you, Sorecar?”
“No, I suppose not.” He relented, the grip on our shoulders loosening, as he once more returned to his jovial state. “Right then! This should be easy enough… a shaft capable of attaching to your knife… give me an hour!”
=====
The Transgragican Academy for the Magical Arts. His Majesty’s Protectors’ Tower. The Dean’s Private-Facing Offices.
Dean Altalan Rur Astur
“I can do it.” Arlan Ostoy spoke, his elementary excuse for a blackthorn’s hood proving to be less amusing and more absurd with each passing visit. “I even volunteer for it, Professor. I have no qualms with an unprompted… excursion.”
“No.” I responded plainly, garnering an expression easily discerned from the two glowing orbs that hid nary a passing thought nor a fleeting conniption.
“Don’t give me that look, Apprentice Ostoy. You know as well as I that you would be without your specialty, outside of the Academy.”
The featureless elf flinched, if only momentarily, before settling back down with a disappointed gaze. “Is it not possible for you to issue me a temporary warrant? I am certain that with these exceptional circumstances—”
“You of all people should know how restrictive your skill sets are, Apprentice Ostoy. The crown will not have a would-be shadow-runner or puddle-jumper gallivanting around but an inch outside of our walls.” I interjected in no uncertain terms. “Which is why you must remain.”
Ostoy’s glowing eyes narrowed at that statement, prompting me to elaborate with a tired sigh.
“You are far too useful here, Apprentice Ostoy. I understand that the newrealmer has been a matter of foremost concern as of late. However, you still have other… assignments, other responsibilities to tend to. Do not allow yourself to be distracted by the novel and the new, for the brightest flames are often those that burn out first.”
The shadowy apprentice didn’t respond, a purposeful act I took as acquiescence.
“Yes, professor.” Ostoy bowed. “Your will be done.”
“Good. Now—”
THWACK!
Several doors slammed open at once, each one reverberating across both time and space through the hundreds of iterations of the same room set across the infinite expanse of probability.
Then, came the sounds of ruffling paper, and a dutifully incompetent secretary who attempted to catch up to this unknown interloper.
“Professor Chiska, how did you… no, I am afraid I cannot allow you to—”
THWACK!
The door was slammed squarely in their face.
A mercy if anything.
For if they’d taken but another step… they’d find themselves somewhere between here and nowhere.
But not Chiska.
The former adventurer was simply far too competent for her own good.
“My sincerest apologies for the uninvited entry, Professor Astur, but I invoke the Rights of the Pedagogue.”
“I acknowledge your invocation, Professor.” I spoke warmly, infuriating the peeved professor even moreso. “Proceed.”
“Conspiring to interfere with the Quest for the Everblooming Blossom? By means of dispatching an attache?! A spy in all but name?!!” The professor proclaimed proudly, slamming the courtesy letter of notice I’d dispatched to her scantily a half hour prior.
This prompted Ostoy to turn towards me with an expectant glare, his glowing eyes quivering if only for a moment.
“Invocation… sustained, professor.” I admitted, garnering yet another shocked expression from the shadowy apprentice. “Proceed.”
“Professor—” The apprentice began, only to be halted by a twitch in my smile.
“I think it’s best you leave us, Apprentice.” I urged kindly.
“As you wish, professor.” Ostoy spoke as he stood up, bowing deeply, before vanishing into the Academy’s leylines.
“Now, Professor Chiska, I must correct you on your rather… bold claims. For I am simply following in the precedents set by my predecessors.”
“And I’m simply attempting to maintain the sanctity of tradition.” Chiska countered.
“I am afraid the ahem — sanctity — of this tradition has been sullied and codified long before your tenure, professor.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I admit, the instances where such measures were taken are rather scarce, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that there is precedence.” I reached for a book, pulling one of the thousands within my drawer-fulls of holding. “As you can see, informal oversight attaches have been used to monitor newrealmers in the rare occasions where they do partake in Academy excursions. It is all for their own good, of course. The Academy wishes to ensure their well being, after all.”
“We both know this is a matter far removed from the assurance of personal welfare. Retroactively justifying your actions by drawing on past actions which just so happen to align with your own is weak justification, professor.” The tabaxi snapped tersely, her sharpness and stubbornness a unique challenge… especially when set against the limp-willed Vanavan and the similarly spineless staff within my immediate sphere.
“Do you prefer to risk injury and death, professor? All for the price of a misguided sense of privacy?”
“Agency, professor. That is what I seek for my excursions.”
“I reiterate — is privacy, agency, or whatever else you value, truly worth the risk of injury and death? To a newrealmer at that?”
“Yes.” The professor responded without hesitation. “These excursions are taken entirely at their risk. This is a time for them to grow. At least, that’s my answer, for the limited framework you’ve forced my voice into. But we both know where the true argument lies.”
A moment of silence descended between us, one that was eventually punctuated by the tapping of my fingers.
“Do you wish to lodge an official complaint, professor?”
“I wish to make known my personal objection to this decision.”
“Very well… objection noted. I appreciate your candidness and passion, professor.” I acknowledged firmly. “Will there be anything else?”
The exasperated look of a noble scorned quickly found itself manifesting on the tabaxi’s features.
However, instead of standing her ground, or resisting the inevitable… she acquiesced.
“That will be all.” She spoke scornfully.
That was all she could do, after all.
KA-THUNK!
I found myself alone for a moment… though not for long.
KA-THUNK!
“GOOD EVENING, SIRE!” The… regretfully eccentric apprentice entered the fray, dressed to the nines with both armor and equipment far, far too excessive for the upcoming journey.
“Good evening, Apprentice Ral Altaria Del Narya Sey Antisonzia the Second.”
“I see the Academy once more requires my services?” The former second-rate minor noble spoke as though he were anything but.
Then again, his dedication was admirable.
“Yes, Apprentice. You are, admittedly, the most well acquainted with the newrealmer and her compatriots so far, yes?”
“INDEED!” He bowed deeply, once again, far in excess of what was necessary.
“Excellent. I have taken the liberty of putting both your thesis, and the rest of your assignments on pause. Moreover, when you return, you will be met with both commendations and several personal guarantees. Provided, of course, you return with something to report.”
“I will indeed, sire! I assuredly will!” The apprentice exclaimed.
“Good. You recall all the details of your assignment, yes?”
“Aye! Track, observe, but do not interfere!”
“That’s… yes, that’s it yes. Now, you will be assigned a tracker and a map.” I paused, placing both items on the desk in front of us.
The apprentice was quick to reach for both, prompting me to swat his hand away. “Do not lose the latter, and be grievously cautious with the former. You know what this is, don’t you?” I questioned sternly, picking up the satin marble between my fingers.
“Yes, sire.”
“Then you know how sensitive it is. Make sure you know exactly where you’re planting this, lest it fuse to you.”
“Yes, sire.”
=====
The Next Day
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Emma and Thacea’s Room. Local Time: 0800 Hours.
Emma
[Quest for the Everblooming Blossom… T-Minus 5 Hours, and counting.]
I would’ve been sweating bullets if it wasn’t for the climate control in the suit.
The entire night had been one big frantic last-minute nightmare.
From equipment checklists and supply pack overhauls, to the motorcycle itself that’d taken a little bit of work fitting together in one cohesive piece, there was quite literally no sleep to be had… just work.
All three watched in silent confusion at the final hour as I moved to one of the dismantled containers, especially as I grabbed and installed both wires and cameras from its remains.
“Emma… exactly what are you doing?” Thacea spoke up first, my body currently going through the incredibly strange and uncomfortable sensation of being controlled by the EVI.
“Remember the cameras on the containers, Thacea?”
“Yes?”
“Well, those are modular, and designed to be easily integrated into the rest of my equipment roster. Thankfully, Sorecar managed to poke holes exactly as the spec sheets required him to, so it’s just a simple fitting and wiring job now.”
“Earthrealmer… while I would argue that this is an exercise in paranoid futility, I will instead defer to a more… constructive point.” Ilunor began, and in a surprising act of lucidity, pushed to help instead of merely complaining. “You need not fear theft from commoners. The average commoner will be far too fearful of tampering with items belonging to nobility. What you must be wary of however, are your fellow—” The Vunerian paused, as if attempting to backtrack an unfortunate allusion he was about to make. “—ahem… peers.”
“Thank you for the pointer there, Ilunor.” I responded appreciatively.
“Right then, that should be it…” I muttered out, quickly turning to the EVI as it promptly returned full motor functions to me.
A part of me winced at the horror-movie potential of receiving a no in response to that command.
But I just as quickly shoved that to the back of my mind.
“The Academy wants all conveyances lined up in front at the starting line, right?” I turned to Thalmin.
“That’s correct.” The prince nodded. “I’ve already had Timberborn delivered.”
“Right, I’ll get the V4c set up right next to Timberborn then.” I nodded.
“Aren’t you going to christen your conveyance, Emma?” Thalmin pondered.
“Oh? Huh. Yeah that actually sorta just slipped my mind. Erm… I’m genuinely blanking out right now, so let’s just stick with V4c until something pops up.”
“We should be going soon.” Thacea quickly chimed in. “We have classes, and the two of you—”
“Need to get going to orientation, yeah.” I interrupted. “We’re set to leave after lunch so, we’ll get to say our goodbyes then, alright?”
All four of us stood in silence for a moment, nodding, as I pointed to a list of printed pointers we’d spent most of last night going over. “Just refer to that if anything comes up regarding my tent and setup.”
=====
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Hall of Champions. Liring’s Grand Room. Local Time 1200 Hours.
Emma
[Quest for the Everblooming Blossom… T-Minus 1 Hour(s), and counting.]
“Welcome! Welcome one and all to an assembly held exclusively for the eyes and ears of those worthy! Welcome, prospective pioneers, to the Quest for the Everblooming Blossom!” Chiska beamed out, her toothy grin and excitement so infectious that I was actually hyped up for what was to come next.
“I’ll be brief! You’re all retracing the steps of a legend, so naturally — you’ll be finding your own way to your destinations! Which, by the way, lies here!” She continued, pulling down a massive map of Transgracia that looked much more simplified compared to the map Sym and co had shown me earlier. “The northernmost reaches of Transgracia, or more specifically, the forests of Ruvina to Nileseypools!”
The top-right corner of Transgracia was subsequently highlighted, leaving what was essentially our destination—
“Professor, if I may?” Qiv raised his hand high.
“Yes, Lord Ratom?”
“From my discussions with the upper yearsmen and my research on the local flora and fauna of Transgracia’s Northern forests… I believe the North Rythian forests are also considered to be a valid destination too, no?”
“Very observant, Lord Ratom! Indeed, they were! However, the Academy, under the urgings of both the Crown, must sadly acknowledge the inexplicable dangers of North Rythia as of late. So for your own safety, the North Rythian Forests are off-limits!”
“Now! With the destination out of the way, let us discuss some rules!” Chiska pulled hard on the little tether beneath the map poster, forcing it up, and revealing a set of rules written on a particularly old piece of parchment.
“Rule number 1, always keep track of your adventure partner!”
“Rule number 2, do not accost the locals! For they are not yours to accost!”
“Rule number 3…”
=====
Just outside of the Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Asansure’s Landing. Local Time 1210 Hours.
Apprentice Ral Altaria Del Narya Sey Antisonzia the Second
Stealth.
Speed.
Agility.
I moved swiftly like the wind, effortlessly like a leaf, and silently like a habberjockey.
Silence was my ally.
And the sun was my enemy.
It… actually very much was my enemy — for the heat within this invisibility cloak threatened to suffocate me faster than a clenchthroat tincture.
I needed to act fast.
I needed to finish the job swiftly.
And thankfully… my target was just in sight — the mercenary prince’s horse.
I glided across the grass like the morning dew, my hand trembling as I approached the tamed beast.
Disgusting creature… why didn’t he pick something more savory, like a monotreader! I screamed internally, pulling every trick in the book of theater so as not to gag at the smell of this farm animal.
Eventually, my eyes landed on the perfect spot for the tracker, as I couldn’t help but to internally chastise the prince for the irony soon to beset him.
What was once an item of protection, will now be your undoing. I smiled wildly, reaching for the manasteel chainmail the animal wore.
With one swift motion, I applied the satin marble on a patch of chainmail, the orb seamlessly, effortlessly, and quite ominously melding into the patchwork of chain… mail.
Then, as quickly as the process began, it ended. With nought a sign of tampering.
=====
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Hall of Champions. Liring’s Grand Room. Local Time 1220 Hours.
Emma
[Quest for the Everblooming Blossom… T-Minus 1 Hour(s), and counting.]
“Rule number 21! You may use the resources of the land to suit your needs, for the Transgracian monarch has graciously granted all students the right to flora and fauna for such quests!”
“And finally, rule number 22, once you step out of the Academy and Elaseer, you are beholden to a new set of protections, distinct from that of the typical student! Details are in the pamphlets in front of you.”
A few snores could be heard at the end of the announcement, prompting Chiska to clear her throat, before stomping hard on the ground, causing the snoozing students to be lifted high into the air on a pillar of dirt.
“Any of you who have slept through this mandatory orientation, will remain for a second round of orientation. Those of you who remained awake and lucid for this orientation… may now leave.” Chiska smiled brightly.
“Be bold! Be brash! But be safe! And most of all, have fun on your quests, students!”
Comments
Michael Halpern
I just realized, while they are still single use Applique, the firstmark seals work opposite of our applique reactively rather than proactively, reacting before the armor underneath is affected, whereas the seals take whatever the underlying armor can't take. same end result, the Applique is consumed and the vehicle survives different fundamental approach. In both cases the applique is useless on it's own, it's an enhancement not a replacement
Michael Halpern
The nexus is likely a dyson shell, that said, they can do gravity manipulation, so its likely the builders could too and incorporated it in the structure, tides play an important role in various ecologies. Easy way would be to ask to see star charts, especially if they include "wondering stars"
Malcolm Morrison
A thought occurs that Emma could find out if the adjacent realms have planets by asking if their worlds have tides. The tide is caused by the leypull of moons. I bet the Nexus doesn’t have a tide.
Michael Halpern
Well I am sure the two standard wheels Emma has made will be used for the EMMV, which she should start on as soon as she gets the communication suite running so that it will be ready for winter break adventuring.
Michael Halpern
The Dean of course doesn't know that the particular flame he is referring to is fueled by something far greater than he realizes: The knowledge that someone is confidentpy wrong.
