Omni5876

Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers

The magic shard on the wall between the beds seemed to glow once outside the vision of the young dwarf. Young by dwarven standards that is. His beard, only palm long, was a far cry from those dwarves who had lived near 200 or more years. Though not as long lived as the near immortal elves, some dwarves had been known to live to almost 500 years old. However, due to their constant quarrels with Orcs, other races, and sometimes even themselves, the great majority of dwarves tended to be between 200 and 300 years of age.

This long life in comparison to some demi humans, humanoids, and humans, meant that they had long memories which were slow to change. Since most dwarves were not very adept at magic, many saw magic users as devious and to an extent cowardly. Clerics, rune users, and shamans were sort of exempt as the magic was very practical and applied in a religious sort of level rather than a mystical sense.

Many dwarves would have smashed the orb immediately. Arn himself would have been wary of such a sentient magical device being in his room. As it was, when the gentle and cordial voice of Athena spoke from somewhere to his side, Arn automatically stepped further away from the sound and immediately started to reach for the hidden dagger in his boot while he scanned the room.

“Students have a choice between utilizing one of the student uniforms provided in the top drawer of your dresser or any other garment you may have brought for the Initiation Feast.”

Arn looked about and quickly identified the Orb. He stood up but did not approach or sheath his dagger again. “My apologies Lady Athena, you startled me.” Then with a more controlled voice he inquired. “I assumed your jurisdiction extended no further than the Main Hall. Apparently I was mistaken.” The young dwarf used politeness to mask his irritation at having a device that could indeed be helpful but could also be used to monitor him.

“Various locations are available through out the campus for the convenience of the students.”

The cleric stared at the orb but finally decided that it would be impossible to read an inanimate object no matter how interactive it may be. He shrugged and proceeded to give the uniforms provided a look over. The colors were much too flashy in comparison to the reserved ones utilized by the dwarven military. He also did not know the purpose of the scarf but he would wear it regardless.

The young dwarf appreciated the need for a school uniform. With the myriad of students, all different shapes and sizes. He placed the uniform on his bed and finding himself a towel proceeded to exit meaning to find a communal bath like he had on the military. Instead, after walking down and up the hall, he found no bath. Returning to his room, the young cleric realized there was yet an other door. could it be? Could this place be so lavish that each dorm room has a bath all of its own? The answer was a resounding yes.

This made him a bit melancholic as he was used to an open shower where all the cadets had shared a quick bath during only specific hours. This time however, the bath had a tub and a stall, a place to hang your towel and a place to hang your caddy. A very shiny mirror with some innate light hung over a very nice vanity and sink. There were also toiletries provided. Arn had only brought a small bag of sweet smelling sand. The military cadet decided to stick with what he knew for now. He was done much faster than the average person due to his training of quick showers to conserve water. He did not even wait for the water to warm up.

Finally refreshed after two months of travel, he returned to the shared room to change into the school uniform. He found it interesting that his uniform fit him perfectly. It was not too tight or too loose. These curiosities and the way that the school seemed to cater and know exactly what the students need it put him a bit on edge. He looked at himself on the provided full length mirror. He raised an eyebrow. He actually looked nice.

He spent more time on his beard that the whole bathing and dressing. Using a natural bristle comb, he brushed his beard tenderly and careful. Every one knows that a dwarf’s bear is his pride. The single braid the only adornment to his dark brown beard. He fidget with it a bit then patted it to rest with the remainder of his beard. His half pony tail was nice and tight with the rest of his hair falling as if with a skirt.

Being only a cadet, he still had all his hair. Veteran campaigners used to being in battle helmets for a long time sported balding or bald heads. Indeed, though he sported a beard, the facial features of the young dwarf marked him as one having just barely reached adulthood. He took a deep breath and turning sharply on his heels turned towards the door and headed to the feasting hall following the directions of the interactive map scroll.

He was of course a bit early. Thankfully he was not the only one. A pair of magely looking youths also seemed to have the decency of arriving early to an event.

To Claim a Starting World

@Cyrania hope you get better.

Jewel of the Skies

As for Eilis, well her fate is partially in your hands so it depends what your choices will be.

@deia876lat

lol I feel like that meme where the guy is sweating bullets lol. NO pressure.

I mean dont get me wrong I totally appreciate the choices matter sort of play but I just hope I dont kill Poor Eilis lol.

also, do you feel that if we added more people to this RP it would mess with the play? I am not suggesting we recruit I am merely stating that your story deserves more audience and that if you were thinking of adding more people I would not have any objections.

to be fair though, I kinda like Eilis all to myself lol.

Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers

@mantou Well most dwarves keep to themselves under their keep but Clerics are different due to their "Tempering" which is short of like a Knight Errant sort of situation. So there may or may not be more dwarves in the school lol.

Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers

Arn Thurson

Name: Arn Thurson of the Hammerstone Clan
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Age: 84 in human years a ripe 19 in dwarven
Gender: Male
Appearance:

My Hider

Arn in full Battle Armor

Everyday Gambeson

Formal Doublet

Hair: Dark brown with sprinkles of red. He wears his hair in a half ponytail and it extends just past his shoulders. His beard is only a palm past his chin and sports a single braid.
Eyes: Hazel often piercing as he analyses everything. Except when he is performing his bedside functions of a healer.
Height: about 5 feet. this means he is taller than the average dwarf.
Weight: A nice round 215 lbs but not one oz of that is fat. He is very strong and muscular but not cut like humans.
Voice: a nice baritone and he does enjoy singing the ballads and shanties of his homeland.

Arn tends to wear the everyday gambeson which hides a mail shirt underneath. he always carries himself smartly and is rigidly. He is quiet but will speak out if anything needs to be said. Often he will voice his opinion in regards to tactics and such.



Class: Cleric

Personality: Arn is serious due to his military academy training. He often will quote his drill sergeant when he wants to make a point. He is very loyal to his kin and if he forms ties with others, he values them as family. He is often gruff as any dwarf but unlike most dwarves, he is not a hot head. This does not mean he is a push over and will not back down from a fight.

Strengths:
Languages: Common and Dwarvish
Darkvision
poison resistance
Proficient with Battle Axe, Hand Axe, Warhammer, Thrown Hammer
Proficient with Mason Tools Stone cutting
Dwarven history and architecture
All Armors Shields
Simple and Martial Weapons
Proficient with Vehicles (land)

Spells: TBD

Weaknesses: (What are you less than good at)
A bit prejudice towards Orcs, goblins, Kobolds, Drow and other such creatures.
Little respect for anyone who has not proven themselves in the battle field.
Very awkward around females
Stubborn
Is blunt with no filter.

Biography:

BACKGROUND:
Arn is the second son of Thur Hammerstone. He is from a small clan that followed Bruenor Battlehammer in the Battle of Keeper’s Dale against a force of evil drow, orcs, goblins, and Kobolds. Their bravery and skill with the Warhammer earned them renown and an assured place of honor amongst the ranks of the Dwarven military. It was to this legacy that the young dwarf was born into.

MILITARY SERVICE:
From a young age, Arn began his studies in regards to military history and training with shield, spear and Warhammer. Military service was required of all young dwarves regardless of chosen profession to instill obedience and sound tactics should the Iron Keep ever come under attack as it had in its past. Usually, this service consisted of little more than community service with some being able to actually serve on security duty around the settlement of Ebonstein. Only a select few actually got selected as scouts and entered a military academy. One of the classes enabled them to venture out on patrol duty to clear the surrounding areas around Ebonstein of stray bands of goblins and other creatures. Arn easily gained entrance into this select group due to his natural martial skill and sound mind. From a young age he had listened to the stories and glories of past clan members at the knee of his father and heard of the exploits of his older brother in the Underdark regiment.

It was during one of these patrols that Arn faced the true essence of war and battle, survival. His small band of 6 cadets and 1 elder Sergeant patrolled the desolate places on the slopes of the mountains on the outskirts of Ebonstein. It was meant to be a routine patrol with no foreseeable signs of danger.

They had camped at the foot of the mountain and set up watches. Arn had woken up his relief, a nobleman’s son who had been added to the group more out of political connections than actual combat prowess. The sleepy eyed lad grudgingly took his place on the ledge that overlooked the camp and that provided the best surveying position. Arn had a bad gut feeling but he decided to keep his business himself and headed off to bed.
Chaotic noises woke the young dwarf from his slumber. He poked his head out of his tent, almost losing it to a falling crude ax being swung by a snarling Orc. What followed next was a blur of chaos and adrenalin. Amidst grunts, clangs, and shrieks, Arn found himself facing down two Orcs. The lumbering brutes held their weapons ready and closed in for the kill. The battered and bloodied recruit looked about him, his comrades were either dead or dying. The Orcs had lost six of their own and the remaining two sported wounds themselves. The three of them knew that the victor would have to pay a dear price. With a lunge, Arn went on the offensive trying to catch the two orcs off balance. The deadly dance of battle progressed to the musical clang of weapons and grunts. In stroke of more luck than skill, Arn managed to get under the swing of one of the Orcs and brought the butt of his Warhammer up, effectively crushing the attackers wind pipe. The move however caused him to lose his footing and fall on his back. The remaining Orc did not lose his chance and flung himself onto the young dwarf, bone knife ready to plunge itself deep in the recruit’s throat. The battle and his own wounds had worn the young dwarf to the point that only sheer will was keeping the point of the blade at bay. The snarling Orc used all his body weight and the blade slowly descended on its killing path. Suddenly, warm blood splashed onto Arn’s face and the Orc went limp, a spear head sticking out of its mouth. With a gurgle of surprise the Orc died. Arn looked up to watch his Drill Sergeant falling to the ground. He had lost a leg and had pulled the very spear that had impaled him to use against the Orc . The young recruit made his way to the elder’s side.
The veteran laid there and grunted to his pupil “Don’t worry lad, I won’t tell anyone you needed help against two little Orcs. Sorry it took me so long to come to you rescue but I think I have a good excuse” said the elder slowly tapping his bloody stump. “Well, I guess after all the excitement a good night’s rest is in order. Night night…do..nt..let the …bed.bu…”. His arm that was tapping on the young recruit’s shoulder went limp and the veteran soldier exhaled his last. The relieving patrol found Arn unconscious on the floor next to his Sergeant, trails of bitter tears cutting a path through the blood and grime on his face.

THE BRANDING
His mind took longer to heal than his body. The blow he had received to his beliefs had been shattering. He had trained from a young age, came from a long line of warriors with distinguished legacy even his own older brother was sung on the ale houses. What good was all this if he could not protect and save. The fire in his eyes was gone, days, and weeks passed and the young dwarf had lost his purpose. That is when he met Hardal, a Cleric. He visited with the young dwarf, having seen this type of sickness before. Slowly Arn opened up, the calm and almost fatherly demeanor of the Cleric allowing for deep conversations and guidance. The Cleric knew first-hand about loss. He had lost his father, brothers, and even cousins to battle. “Warriors do not taint the deeds of those lost in battle with regret; instead, the aim is to honor them by surviving and protecting others. You were chosen to live on, do not live your life in self-pity. Let the fire of battle fuel you instead of letting it consume you.”
A renewed sense of purpose dawned in Arn. He inquired as to how to become a Cleric. Hardal led him to the inner sanctum of the small altar to Stollara. A single warhammer was suspended over flames by magic. “When you are pure of purpose and you accept the nature of war and battle. When you take up arms in honor and respect. When you have searched inside your soul and find that flame burning within. Then you may come to this altar and hold the sword. If you are not called by Stollara to be her Cleric the sword will be cold to your hand. If she chooses you….you will know” said the Cleric with a smirk.
It took months of study, self-reflection and hours spent staring into the crackling fire surrounding the suspended warhammer. During one of those times when he would stare in a trance at the weapon, Arn could hear a voice in his being
“why?”
Why what? Why did he want to become a Cleric? The question annoyed him. Wasn’t it obvious? To protect, to heal, to bring some sort of balance to the chaos of war…
“why?”
Because people die in war, because sometimes those who live did not deserve it and those who died should have lived….
“why?”
At this point, rage welled up inside Arn and he yelled at the flames. “Because I should have died that day!!” He fell to his knees defeated, his head hanging and broken sobs escaped his lips. Two strong hands gently held his shoulders. “War is a part of life. Different creatures struggle in different ways. Our job is to guide, comfort and protect those in our care. We cannot prevent war, but we can join in the fray and hopefully that tips the scales. You are alive for a reason. Are you ready to join the fight again? Are you worthy to be the light in the shield and the hammer?”

The young dwarf slowly stood up. He was ready to join the fray. He was ready to take up the shield and the hammer. He was ready to protect. But mainly, he was ready to battle. He made his way towards the altar and the hanging warhammer. His hand reached towards the handle and his strong calloused fingers closed around it. A sudden searing pain surged through his body. He wanted to cry out but his mouth would not utter the sound. He felt as if his soul itself was ablaze. At the point when he felt he would pass out, a warmth spread throughout his body. A certain calm and new found awareness and in the midst of the pain there was clarity. Hardal tapped the new Cleric on the shoulder and Arn released his grip on the sword. He held the branded hand on both of his and spoke knowingly. “Some warriors bear their scars on their body, others on their soul. Be the balm to both.” A dim glow emanated from the elder Cleric and the pain was gone. In its stead, a warhammer had been branded on the young dwarf left palm. He had been chosen to walk the path.

THE TEMPERING
After his initiation into the order, Arn was sent out to the world. This was called the Tempering. Just as a sword is plunged into the fire and the impurities hammered away, so must the Cleric. Refined by the fires of war and the blows of life, a Cleric will reach their ultimate calling. It was in this manner that he found himself at the steps of XXX. The young dwarf wondered what challenges awaited him in these halls.

Jewel of the Skies

Arn listened to the dark haired woman. She said no lies. He was quite sure that all she said was at the very least something she believed in. He had seen enough to know that Eilis was more than met the eyes. He had felt things through his connection with her that made him feel uneasy. It was probably because of how she made him feel. Feelings that both enticed and made him wary. The biggest mystery was that they both had connected at all.

He remembered the first feeling of her. He was deeply wounded and very close to death. Yet, he had heard a call. As if they two had been connected. Romantics call such a connection as soul mates. Ironically, his own research had proven this notion to be true. Both spiritually and scientifically, all life in Ith is interwoven and connected by the Aether. The Weave is all and connects all. There is no reason to believe that in such a complex tapestry, there are not threads that interlock and could actually share the same origin.

This was the Fate that Scylla could be referring. For Arn, the moment he gave his word to Eilis he had bound himself to her. Actually, the moment that he had touched her to calm her, he had bound himself to her. To him, this was not a cage but it was a union that anchored him when he had felt to be nothing more than a leaf on the wind.

The battle mage’s eyes followed the woman cautiously. He scanned the area around her for any disturbance in the Weave. His stronger connection to the Aether allowed him to detect changes in the field. This same connection was making him feel jumpy. Almost as one who has taken drugs or full of adrenalin. His own field pulsed as if like a barely held in hurricane. Yet he contained himself.

His body was already feeling the strain of this enhanced connection. Somehow, this also gave him a feeling of euphoria. He wondered if Eilis felt stronger than this when in the state she had demonstrated? He looked at the still sleeping figure of his protegee through the corner of his eyes. If she shared her power with him…how would that feel?

There will be a day we will meet again and perhaps then you will agree with me.

He flared up just as she jumped away into the night. The reason for his sudden surge of anger was because he already agreed with her. His logical mind knew that killing Eilis was the best possible tactical action in regards to denying the enemy the power that the lovely girl seemed to posses. Without the connection that he now shared with her, he would have had very little qualm in sacrificing her for the benefit of millions.

This simple fact made him feel anger with himself. Was he being selfish? The answer was simple. YES.

Yet, this simple answer as actually the reason why his conviction in protecting her and allowing her to live free were redoubled. He had not doubts that she would be used. That the power that bound her would destroy any chance she had at a peaceful, happy life. Until he was able to free her, there was no guarantee that she would ever be able to live any type of life with him.

Arn wanted that chance more than anything and he would kill for it.

The mage took a deep breath and sealed his connection again. His body still buzzed from the surge of power and like any who take drugs, started to feel a craving for it. Thankfully, he had something that satisfied him, Eilis. He was already kneeling and checking her fully to ensure there was no great injury other than some cuts and scrapes and a bit of bruising where he had magically choked her.

A pang of regret ran through him but he knew it had to be done. He would make amends and apologize latter. He looked up when the old warrior spoke. The mage nodded as he started to lift the sleeping girl effortlessly. “I will tell you all I am able.” He still had a promise to keep but there was not much that had not been revealed already anyways.

Even if the old warrior had not suggested, death itself would not have been able to keep Arn from Eilis that night. As he went by Tyrhallan his voice was heavy and deeply apologetic. “I regret bringing such an evil to your house and family.” He stopped a few steps away and told the man without turning. “But I truly appreciate your protection. You are a man of great honor and I am honored to know you.”

He followed a servant who showed the mage to a different room. He placed the girl on the bed. A maid had brought water and cloth and was about to clean Eilis up but Arn gently grabbed the cloth from her hands. “Thank you for your kindness, Please, allow me to do that.” The middle aged woman gave him a knowing and gentle look and patted him on the shoulder. Without a word, she exited and closed the door behind her.

The master mage gently dabbed dirt and specks of blood from the sleeping girl. He picked debris from her hair and clothes until she was as perfect as he could get her. He looked down at her and sat on the edge of the bed. “I am sorry that I did not meet you sooner. I wish I could have prevented any of this from happening to you. But I am glad we met.” He said as he brushed back her hair.

He did not know what she was dreaming but he hoped that it was about living a life that was simple and happy.

Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers

Arn had returned from his daily work at the shrine on the Fort’s compound to a curious scroll sitting neatly on his humble bed. Clerics, just like any other military member, had spartan accommodations. This meant that their rooms had no locks and could be easily accessible to anyone. Theft was heavily frowned upon and discouraged via lashings or sometimes even worse, cutting off the offender’s hand.

Easy access to habitations did not really give others the right to enter other’s rooms. After a quick talk with the Barracks Seargant, none had been able to even identify a possible culprit. His superior, Master Hardal spoke simple yet very wise words. “Why don’t you just go to Hoseforne’s Academy and find what that is all about.” So a long journey later, made longer due to the fact that he could not simply borrow any of the War Boars or Great Goats that his military units employed.

However, the two month land journey enabled him to help people on the road and receive rides from travelers, farmers etc and experience life outside the cloistered walls of the Iron Gates Fort. it had been high time he initiated his Tempering anyways. Perhaps, it had even been a ploy from his wise master to get him out and into the world. This latter was not entirely unplausible.

Whatever the case, here he was here now, starting at the impressive architecture of Hoseforne’s. He was dressed in his everyday Gambesson, a black sort of jacket with matching black pants. His pack contained his armor, a few travel rations and most important of all, his Warhammer. His Warhammer was a sight to behold. Intricately engraved though none of the runes had been active for quite some time. It could also be considered a maul but thanks to his dwarven strength, Arn was able to wield it in one hand.

As he took he steps towards the Main Hall, he noticed a bulky warrior type purposefully bump into a person who could only be a magic user based on the dress and light body frame. Though Arn had no particular love or hate relationship with mages, he could not stand by and abide any sort of disrespect, especially for purely prejudiced purposes.

To pay back the other burly offender, he stepped into the person’s path. Thanks to his low stature, bulk and innate strength, bumping into the dwarf was like bumping into a small boulder. The offending warrior emitted an audible grunt as he was not expecting the collision. The human uttered an audible curse and looked down at the dwarf. Arn merely looked up and said calmly. “My apologies. Please be careful. You could get hurt bumping into people like that.” The other man gave the cleric a mean look but decided against any further altercation and moved along muttering under his breath.

Arn followed him with his gaze until the bulky man was out of sight in the mass of people and continued into the Main Hall. Despite having seen the majestic halls of his people under Iron Keep which boasted awe inspiring columns and architecture, even he could not help but widen his eyes and take in his breath at the sight of the magic crystal that command the Main Hall. It was more than the beautiful gem like exterior, his own limited magic affinity seemed to hum. For as many knew or rumored, anything that glints is a dwarf’s weakness.

The young cleric’s eyes scanned the room and identified cubicles that had many people going in and out of them. He found it interesting and impressive that such a great amount of people were able to keep from falling into chaos. Yet something inside him had known that he was to come here and he had somehow known that the cubicles were for sorting people. His logical and tactical mind made notes of this. This sort of efficiency would be helpful in other applications, such as triage.

He proceeded to an available line and waited patiently for his turn. Many students around him grumbled on the wait but the dwarf was used to this. Lines and the military were like inseparable lovers. So he inched along, straight backed and stoic faced until it was finally his turn. He entered the booth. Suddenly there was a voice that seemed to be speaking directly to his mind. He was surprised but the only physical evidence of that was the slight straightening of his back.

"Greeting's new student. I am Athena. Welcome to Hoseforn's Academy for Gifted Adventurers. Please present your acceptance scroll now."

“Yes ma’am” Arn replied smartly and he efficiently produced the scroll that had started it all. A light scanned the document and the female voice sounded in his head again.

"Letter accepted. Welcome Arn Thurson of the Stonehammer clan Vassals of the Battlehammer Clan.”

Arn lifted one eyebrow at how accurate Athena had addressed him following the dwarven protocols. He expressed his impressed feeling by nodding ever so slightly towards the small jewel in a sign of respect. Inanimate object it may be but it deserved to be acknowledged.

"This is a map of the school grounds, your dorm number is 785. A fresh uniform and any supplies you require will be waiting for you. Please change...bathe... and return to the Main Hall within an hour and a half for the welcoming feast. Attendance is mandatory."

“Understood.” His baritone voice again said properly and he exited the booth looking at his map and following the highlighted path to his room.

He moved like a stone amongst the tide of students. He saw many familiar and unique sights. There was even a point when he thought he saw a girl with pink hair and fox ears? He had no time to verify this as the sea of people swallowed her up. Shrugging, he continued down the rows of apartments to one labeled with the appropriate range.

The young dwarf moved from floor to floor until finally he was at his appointed room. He placed a hand upon the door experimentally and heard an audible click. Again, his eyebrows raised appreciatively. He was about to enter when his nose caught the scent of something scrumptious. He identified the smell coming from a blonde mage type entering a room a few doors down.

His stomach grumbled, having eaten only bland travel rations. He was glad that there would soon be a feast. Dwarves were known for their hearty appreciation of good food and good drink. Trained and shaped to be a deadly force, this did not mean that the young dwarf did not indulge in good food when available.

Inside the room he could see a humble but efficient set up. The room was much bigger than his own habitation back at the Fort but it had no fancy flourishes. He directed his attention to one of the stand up closets and was happy to find that there was even a place to set his armor for easy cleaning and storage. He continued to unpack his sparse belongings, an extra pair of everyday Gambesson and a ceremonial Doublet that was meant to be used for grand ceremonies.

The crystal had mentioned a school uniform. “I wonder if I am to wear my uniform to the feast or if I am required to wear my ceremonial garb?” Unknown to him, there were even small versions of Athena in the rooms and through out the school. This sort of comunication system would be quite lusted after by any military.

Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers

@Aerandir understood, I will look into it

Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers

@Aerandir please forgive my ignorance but I’m not familiar with discord or it’s benefits. Also, from what I read it’s a sort of Skype call? I tend to have very little time to set aside like that but would appreciate any info so I can better understand the concept.

Jewel of the Skies

Don't really know what you mean but I think Arn is just really almost a true neutral or Lawful neutral character. Of course, depending on what happens to Eilis, he might be pushed over to the Lawful Evil side lol.

So believe it or not, my secondary story line falls really well into what you have provided already. I almost want to discuss it with you so you don't think I am just copying you but it is funny how similar or logical it seems. There may be another reason why Arn and Eilis are so connected lol.