It wasn't long before Garanin arrived at his own room, opening to door to no resistance. Looking around, he gave an appraising nod at the interior: it wasn't particularly grand, but for a dwarf, it was an alright living space, to be sure. His lack of personal amenities only helped that situation, unlike Isilfarrel. Walking over to the rucksack that contained his earthly possessions, Garanin took stock. 

Warhammer, check. Shield, check. Armor, check. [i]History of Dwarven Enchanters[/i], check. Most importantly, coin purse. Check!

And...that was about it. Sure, there were some leftover bits of salt meat and a waterskin, along with a change of clothes, but he'd left most of his more frivolous belongings at home. Surely he'd be able to find a new flask here, and he had enough funds for a small shopping exhibition. 

This was the start of a new life, so it was reasonable that he'd only take the things he'd absolutely need here. Everything else was either unnecessary or too cumbersome to stow alongside half a suit of armor. 

Speaking of which, Garanin was feeling odd without any bits or pieces of his armor on at the moment. It wasn't like him to go without, but it also wasn't like him to be at the Arcanium, after all. Deciding on a gauntlet and pauldron, Garanin armored his left arm before taking a moment to relax. It was likely the last chance he'd get, after all. 

--------------

Awakening to the sound of a deafening 'CAW', Garanin shot up off of his bed and stared down the source of the noise, only to notice a....talking paper bird? That was certainly not a standard application of magic, he thought. It seemed more like a personal flair, like when a smith used a certain style of pommel or included a more decorative sword knot with their works. 

What the bird was saying about a feast managed to pique Garanin's interest. He hoped they'd have mead. 

--------------

Quickly arriving at the dining hall, Garanin looked around at the others who'd already arrived. Isilfarrel and her bodyguard were present, apparently talking with a human boy who was among the first-years. There were a pair of humans talking as well, though they didn't stand out to him as of yet. Perhaps that was the best place to enter. He didn't fancy meeting Isil's bodyguard, and he also didn't want to remind her of their embarrassing encounter just yet. It wasn't proper form to joke about somebody you'd just met, [i]especially[/i] not an elven lady with a bodyguard. Down that path lies only suffering, after all. 

Approaching the two young boys with a grin on his face, Garanin gave a greeting. "Heylo there, laddies, it's a pleasure ta meet ya. The name's Garanin Stonehewer. Looks like we'll be learning the arts togither here. And, by the hells, is that rum pudding?! I have'nae had me some a that in nearly a year!" Quickly grabbing a plate and starting to load food onto it, Garanin turned to his chosen companions. "Sorry to interrupt yer conversation, by the by, just figgered it'd be nice to interduce meself to the other styudents 'fore it got to be the end of the year or summat." Flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile at the two, Garanin continued gathering food, focusing heavily on meats and carbs. 

A dwarf's gotta keep his figure, don'tcha know?

[@Letter Bee] [@Conscripts]