First, there were horny fleshbags, stripping off their clothing for no apparent reason in the middle of winter.

Now, there was the silly fleshbag, thinking that it was appropriate to start throwing snow at random people for no purpose other than to instigate a fight.

Then, there were overreacting fleshbags, a whole horde of them gathering together to bring up a defensive position as their mages drew up every single bit of snow on the Academy, turning it into a bunch of snow snakes.

And finally, there was the idiotic fleshbag, who decided that, instead of landing his griffin, he would drive the majestic beast straight through the long snakes, smashing them apart while getting himself a face full of snow.

Sometimes, Ier-Briar wondered just how all these meat-based lifeforms, with their soft flesh and obvious weak-points, had ever managed to survive the trials and tribulations of evolution. Wait, no, that was a silly thought. Clearly, they reproduced enough to offset the amount of them who died stupid deaths on a regular basis. The most important quality of an animal, intelligence, was sorely lacking in these people. Pointedly ignoring the mess of action and frozen water, the Gemstone marched resolutely past the bunch of idiots preparing for a full-scale snow fight. The headmaster’s assistant was speaking about getting every student to go to the main hall, after all, and he found no reason not to heed the woman’s words. At least that particular fleshbag sounded more reasonable than the ones that he had met so far.

Stepping into the main hall tentatively, the Gemstone sharpened his senses once more and momentarily enjoyed the warmth of the massive, wooden hall. A tree sat in the middle, green despite the winter that rested outside, while individual tables and chairs could be seen. They too, were wood, and with a sigh, Ier-Briar began to walk towards one of them. Sharp creaks and groans could be heard as the floor bent underneath his weight, and he decided that, yes, it was definitely a smart idea not to sit down. Standing near the entrance, the blond disabled his sense of smell the moment 100 orcs ran past him, full of a sweaty, musky stench. Ugly, smelly, filthy monsters. Though Ezar-Mantine had always taught him to be nice to the flesh-beings, he couldn’t find it in himself to really care at all about those things.

Then, from behind, something heavy struck him, with enough impact for the Gemstone to actually notice.

Turning around, he was pleased to see that there was finally a non-flesh-being in the school. Waving at the 10 foot tall steel golem, he said, in a significantly lighter tone, [b]“It’s a pleasure to finally meet one of my kind, golem of iron. What is your name?”[/b]