[u][h3][color=fff200]Alaira Taenn[/color][/h3][/u]

Silently, Alaira stood. Well. Perhaps not stood. No, one had to have their feet planted on solid ground. Alaira hung from a decorative gargoyle's plinth, quietly contemplating her next move. It didn't take long before she had leaped off with a slight grunt of effort, a burst of aeromancy gifting her with the momentum to continue her climb. It was good training for her, she thought. She could keep her body in shape and hone her magic at the same time. She caught the roof, groaning with effort as she heaved herself up. She rolled onto her back, panting as she looked up at the sky. [color=fff200][b]"I... I bet Dervis would... would just fuckin'... fly right up... The prick..."[/b][/color] She muttered inbetween breaths. She couldn't really do much with her Aeromancy apart from augment her momentum, so she had a habit of deriding some of the others with a better handle on it for 'taking the easy way'. This especially included the teacher, who she often teased on account of his height. Having her tossed straight into the air on gusts of wind did little to dissuade her. 

After her little break she sat up, brushing her hair behind her shoulders as looked out over the horizon. She sat at the highest point on the keep, and it made her smile a bit every time she remembered that the Arch-mage's chambers were just under her. She quietly wondered how many gargoyles or other, less physical sentries were watching her? Apart from the exercise, she like to come her as, apart from the wind, this was the quietest spot in the entire grounds. For a mindlessly bloodthirsty brute, she spent a lot of time just... thinking. Today was comparatively uneventful. Sure she'd been smithing earlier, as evidenced by the fact that her tunic was still somewhat damp with sweat, but it wasn't anything exciting. Just horseshoes, nails, that sort of thing. Being a goddamn wizard tended to inflate one's ego, and of the very, very small population of students that could work a forge, most found the act of creating such things beneath them. 

They wanted to spend their time creating mighty blades, or all manner of magical whatsits, and yes, so did she. The difference was that she understood the value of things like that. Someone has to make the nails and hinges and rivets, and if she does it that means that means she's paid instead of some random chump merchant somewhere. More money means she has an easier time putting together the materials to actually make something worth bragging about. Didn't mean it was any less boring, though. Looking up at the sky, she was reminded that of all the things she missed about her life before, it was probably the blue sky. Out here, it was always some reddish/purple-y shade even in the middle of the damned day. She sighed and rolled her eyes, leaning back against the conical roof and closing her eyes. She began to sing to herself, just a dwarven mining song she'd picked up a few years back. She really did have a beautiful voice, odd from such a brutish woman. Well, she was half-elf, after all.