51st Day of Spring, 508 AV
“…And so we must remember, to effectively disable the parasite quickly and cleanly, the head must be destroyed in order to…” The words of the professor rambled on at tedium as the old man continued to poke and prod the pale, dead thing laying on the slab before him. The petitioner barely paid attention anymore, his eyes and his focus fixed solely on another soul across the assembly of his fellow prospects crowding around the exhibit. The other stared back at Elias, his unflinching, beady orbs glaring with heated contention while an unconstrained sneer warped his already twisted face. That’s right you ugly piece of shyke, get a good luck, because when the fight starts, all you’re going to see of me is my fist in your big, stupid face. There was no hesitation in his bubbling hostility, and in fact, every moment the two silently sized the other up just made Elias all the more angrier. It was the boy’s face that really made him the most annoyed he had decided, as said big stupid thing was home to an equally big and stupid jaw that looked like it could take a few hits, not to mention the kid’s size and stature oftentimes made the young petitioner wonder if his supposedly sixteen year old opponent had shaved off his beard before coming to class this morning. Doesn't matter how big he is, it just means he’ll hit the ground harder when I’m done with him. Elias calmly reminded himself as he tore his gaze off the other boy and returned it to the instructor still probing the vile corpse on his table. He still wasn't sure what the robed man was saying, but it didn't help that his was mind was still affixed to the cruel machinations he had in store for the fool who had dared to challenge him to a fight.
A sudden jab across his ribs caught his attention and he looked down, shaken from his thoughts all of a sudden to see Jaron stabbing him in the side with his elbow. “Ichor.” The young boy hissed between tightened lips as he stared straight ahead. It was if he was trying remarkably hard to hide the fact that he was talking, but why? Suddenly the Ravokian realized the answer to his own question as he peered back up to behold every eye among the crowd of Ebonstryfe initiates were now turned on him, waiting expectantly. “Well, Caldera?” The instructor reiterated, his impatience emphasized by the tapping of his scalpel on the creatures open chest cavity. “Uh… Ichor, sir?”
“Ichor, correct. Very good. You see the white substance has completely replaced the blood system of the Nuit’s host, and acts in much the same way as…”
The words trailed off again as the students returned to observing the apparently undead corpse. Elias let loose a deep sigh of relief, a threw a small, wordless “thank you” Jaron’s way for the boy's quick save. The other petitioner nodded and grinned and the two of them joined the others in taking more notes on the task at hand. Every once in a while however, Elias would spare a glance towards his opponent, fist clenching at the thought of what was to come.
The lesson ended a half a bell later with the professor shouting at the backs of his escaping student to be ready for next week’s where they would be learning the delicate intricacies of dealing with the ‘exotic and majestic Dhani’ race. He had also promised live test subjects this time, and kindly reminded everyone to bring their aprons and to not eat too much that morning. The students poured out of the catacombs that were the torture chambers below the Vitrax, a place as common and comfortable as the dining hall was to them by now. Elias and Jaron walked side by side as they exited, and the Caldera noticed the big jawed brute wasn't anywhere to be seen as they left, which was good… for him. “Rhysol, can you imagine it? An entire island of those creepy things just swapping bodies out day and night. You know I’m pretty sure my Nan might a Nuit. She’s always so pale and weird, and the way she insists on pinching my cheeks every bloody chance she gets… I think she’s just testing out the leather upholstery on her new meat suit.”
The Caldera smiled, clearing the archways of tunnel and entering out into the Vitrax’s courtyard where upon the pack of petitioners scattered on cue. Divided into little groups, they all went their separate way to do whatever they pleased. Normally they all went to evening prayers around this time, but today they were left free to their own devices thanks to the sudden and unexplained absence of the paladin in charge of the daily ritual. The rumors so far was either he had been cursed by one of his rivals and was now too busy collecting all his teeth as they fell out, or a night at the local brothel had left him with a particularly virulent rash that required immediate tending to. Elias wasn't sure which one he would enjoy spreading around more, so he simply decided on both and his smile deepened. “You know he’s going to quiz us on this shyke.” Elias warned, looking grimly at his own feeble collection of notes. He should have paid better attention he realized too late, but then again that sentiment felt like it was his entire life when it came to anything other than his martial training. “Yah.” Jaron responded, an idle expression fluttering over his expression as he caught on to his friend’s meaning and not so subtly tucked away his own notes well out of reach. “Anyway, you want to head down to the docks. Since we've got free time, a bunch of us wanted to say our hellos to the new recruits coming in.” Elias raised an eyebrow. “I hear they were a couple of Akalak brothers?” He asked curiously and Jaron nodded, the distaste he showed mirroring the other prospect’s. “You know, just a little ‘welcome to Ravok’ sort of deal. I've got an extra club under my bunk if you need one.”
“Can’t.” Elias interrupted disappointingly, abruptly hopping up unto his tip toes and delivering a number of swift jabs and hooks into the air with practiced precision. “I've got to get ready for the fight.” He felt a nauseating mixture of excitement and apprehension begin to take form in his stomach as the thought of imminent combat raced back to the forefront of his mind, but the young man thought he did a well enough job hiding the fact that he wasn't feeling anything other than overjoyed at the prospect. “Oh yah. I forgot about that.” Jaron said snidely, and Elias froze mid punch, throwing the younger boy an exasperated look before launching his arms up in annoyance. “How!” He shouted indignantly. “How is it you could forget about the fight when you’re the damn reason I’m doing it in the first place!” Not to mention word had already spread throughout the entire barracks like wildfire already. Half the petitioners were already whispering about it, and the other half were busy putting down bets.
“Hey now!” Jaron quickly interjected, throwing his arms up defensively as Elias angrily unleashed a barrage of fake punches at the boy. “As I recall –Quit it!- he called us –Stop hitting me!- he called us both a couple of ‘milk drinking little bitches,’ but you were the one who decided that meant it was time to challenge him to a duel, not me. No one asked to stand up for my honor, dear knight, so let’s not pretend this isn’t entirely on you for getting in over your head. I don’t know what you were thinking anyway, he’s clearly a better fighter.”
“He’s not a better fighter you shyke stain, but thank you for the encouraging support.” Elias growled, slapping Jaron’s meager defenses aside and jabbing him hard in the stomach. The boy buckled against the strike, pushing away from Elias in helpless retreat. “Fine, fine, I’ll come to cheer you on then, but you better not get yourself beaten up in the first round or else I’ll be very displeased. I've never even seen an Akalak before, you know. I hear they look just like blue berries… Gosh, aren't the lesser races just positively fascinating. I can’t wait to kill a- Hey, where are my notes!”
But Elias was already running off, the fluttering pages of his prize held victoriously over his head as Jaron shouted and gave chase.
A sudden jab across his ribs caught his attention and he looked down, shaken from his thoughts all of a sudden to see Jaron stabbing him in the side with his elbow. “Ichor.” The young boy hissed between tightened lips as he stared straight ahead. It was if he was trying remarkably hard to hide the fact that he was talking, but why? Suddenly the Ravokian realized the answer to his own question as he peered back up to behold every eye among the crowd of Ebonstryfe initiates were now turned on him, waiting expectantly. “Well, Caldera?” The instructor reiterated, his impatience emphasized by the tapping of his scalpel on the creatures open chest cavity. “Uh… Ichor, sir?”
“Ichor, correct. Very good. You see the white substance has completely replaced the blood system of the Nuit’s host, and acts in much the same way as…”
The words trailed off again as the students returned to observing the apparently undead corpse. Elias let loose a deep sigh of relief, a threw a small, wordless “thank you” Jaron’s way for the boy's quick save. The other petitioner nodded and grinned and the two of them joined the others in taking more notes on the task at hand. Every once in a while however, Elias would spare a glance towards his opponent, fist clenching at the thought of what was to come.
The lesson ended a half a bell later with the professor shouting at the backs of his escaping student to be ready for next week’s where they would be learning the delicate intricacies of dealing with the ‘exotic and majestic Dhani’ race. He had also promised live test subjects this time, and kindly reminded everyone to bring their aprons and to not eat too much that morning. The students poured out of the catacombs that were the torture chambers below the Vitrax, a place as common and comfortable as the dining hall was to them by now. Elias and Jaron walked side by side as they exited, and the Caldera noticed the big jawed brute wasn't anywhere to be seen as they left, which was good… for him. “Rhysol, can you imagine it? An entire island of those creepy things just swapping bodies out day and night. You know I’m pretty sure my Nan might a Nuit. She’s always so pale and weird, and the way she insists on pinching my cheeks every bloody chance she gets… I think she’s just testing out the leather upholstery on her new meat suit.”
The Caldera smiled, clearing the archways of tunnel and entering out into the Vitrax’s courtyard where upon the pack of petitioners scattered on cue. Divided into little groups, they all went their separate way to do whatever they pleased. Normally they all went to evening prayers around this time, but today they were left free to their own devices thanks to the sudden and unexplained absence of the paladin in charge of the daily ritual. The rumors so far was either he had been cursed by one of his rivals and was now too busy collecting all his teeth as they fell out, or a night at the local brothel had left him with a particularly virulent rash that required immediate tending to. Elias wasn't sure which one he would enjoy spreading around more, so he simply decided on both and his smile deepened. “You know he’s going to quiz us on this shyke.” Elias warned, looking grimly at his own feeble collection of notes. He should have paid better attention he realized too late, but then again that sentiment felt like it was his entire life when it came to anything other than his martial training. “Yah.” Jaron responded, an idle expression fluttering over his expression as he caught on to his friend’s meaning and not so subtly tucked away his own notes well out of reach. “Anyway, you want to head down to the docks. Since we've got free time, a bunch of us wanted to say our hellos to the new recruits coming in.” Elias raised an eyebrow. “I hear they were a couple of Akalak brothers?” He asked curiously and Jaron nodded, the distaste he showed mirroring the other prospect’s. “You know, just a little ‘welcome to Ravok’ sort of deal. I've got an extra club under my bunk if you need one.”
“Can’t.” Elias interrupted disappointingly, abruptly hopping up unto his tip toes and delivering a number of swift jabs and hooks into the air with practiced precision. “I've got to get ready for the fight.” He felt a nauseating mixture of excitement and apprehension begin to take form in his stomach as the thought of imminent combat raced back to the forefront of his mind, but the young man thought he did a well enough job hiding the fact that he wasn't feeling anything other than overjoyed at the prospect. “Oh yah. I forgot about that.” Jaron said snidely, and Elias froze mid punch, throwing the younger boy an exasperated look before launching his arms up in annoyance. “How!” He shouted indignantly. “How is it you could forget about the fight when you’re the damn reason I’m doing it in the first place!” Not to mention word had already spread throughout the entire barracks like wildfire already. Half the petitioners were already whispering about it, and the other half were busy putting down bets.
“Hey now!” Jaron quickly interjected, throwing his arms up defensively as Elias angrily unleashed a barrage of fake punches at the boy. “As I recall –Quit it!- he called us –Stop hitting me!- he called us both a couple of ‘milk drinking little bitches,’ but you were the one who decided that meant it was time to challenge him to a duel, not me. No one asked to stand up for my honor, dear knight, so let’s not pretend this isn’t entirely on you for getting in over your head. I don’t know what you were thinking anyway, he’s clearly a better fighter.”
“He’s not a better fighter you shyke stain, but thank you for the encouraging support.” Elias growled, slapping Jaron’s meager defenses aside and jabbing him hard in the stomach. The boy buckled against the strike, pushing away from Elias in helpless retreat. “Fine, fine, I’ll come to cheer you on then, but you better not get yourself beaten up in the first round or else I’ll be very displeased. I've never even seen an Akalak before, you know. I hear they look just like blue berries… Gosh, aren't the lesser races just positively fascinating. I can’t wait to kill a- Hey, where are my notes!”
But Elias was already running off, the fluttering pages of his prize held victoriously over his head as Jaron shouted and gave chase.
