Stonefist Academy - The Beginning

[Fangor the Fierce]

You awaken to the sound of knocking at the door. Still not fully awake, you think back on where you are and what is going on before you recognize the voice calling at you as that of the innkeeper. Looking around, you note that there are others in the common room, some already preparing for the day, others still trying to make use of the last few minutes of sleep afforded them.

You had made good time, for the most part, as you had arrived at the town of Springside during the night. Realizing that you would have to wait until morning to present yourself to the Academy, you found the inn and purchased a cot for a night of sleep. There were no rooms left, for the inn was busy. You caught bits of conversation throughout the evening before retiring to the common room that housed a dozen cots, most of them occupied.

There was talk of a ceremony that was to take place today. Today was the graduation of some of the students from the Academy. It would seem fitting that today would also be your first day there, hopefully as a student. The voice calls out again,

			"Breakfast!"

You make your way to the dinning area, smelling the freshly breakfast. A platter laden with the food is put at each table with others gathering at the tables. Their eagerness for a good meal is evident, as hands divvy out the food onto plates and hurriedly eat what they can. The barmaid takes a look at you and a few others, adding,

			"That table over there is open. I will bring a platter, some pitchers and mugs and enough plates."

She motions to a free table, as you sit, along with six others. Plates are handed out, along with a fork and knife. The platter is laid in the middle of the table, beckoning you to partake in the meal. A pitcher of water and a pitcher of milk is left, along with enough mugs for everyone. There are fruits and butters as well, along with the fresh bread. Eggs, bacon, ham and sausage are heaped upon the platter and freshly steaming.

OOC: You are all seated at the same table, breakfast laid out for you. Once introductions are done, we will move along. Figured I would give a chance for everyone to check in, get a speech color, and get to adventuring!

 

[Sphyh]

Silvas sits down and is excited at the idea of a meal that he didn't have to cook himself. His mouth begins to water as the smell of the freshly prepared meats on the table reach his nose. His stomach beckons him to gorge himself but he holds his reserve. What is customary dining amongst humans? He continues to scan the table and sees a dwarf sitting a bit lower than the rest of guests. I wonder what mother would say if she knew I was dining with a dwarf?! He decides it is best to sit and watch and do as the others do and to only address those who address him.

 

[Graybeard]

Miranda

Miranda gathered her meager belongings and headed for the empty table along with a half dozen others. The common room had been about as comfortable as the others she had stayed at in her journeys. The staff has been quite friendly and the food and drink were tasty. Certainly the aromas coming from the platter of food waiting on the table were appetizing.

She grabbed a seat next to a human woman. Looking around, she noted a Dwarf, a couple of Elves, and three other humans at the table with her. She smiled warmly at the gathered group.

"Good Morning." she greeted the others at the table.

She bowed her head briefly and said a quick prayer to Pelor as she usually did before a meal. When she was finished, she poured herself a mug of water and put a modest assortment of food on her plate including fruit, bread, ham and a sampling of other foods. Pelor taught that one should not be greedy and that the faithful will be taken care of.

Sometimes people would question Miranda's devotion to Pelor, particularly when they find out about her special abilities. It was the faith she had grown up with and she vowed to stay true as long as she lived. After all, it was a cleric of the faith that had saved her from her illness. It was the elder cleric back home who had suspected Miranda's emerging abilities and had arranged for her mentor. Miranda felt she owed much to the church and often donated whenever she could spare a few coins. She had seen plenty of others in her travels that were far worse off than she was. She had seen the suffering, the starvation, the sick children, and more.

Returning her attention to the gathered group at the table, she decided to initiate small talk. It was something she had been taught at a young age back at her parent's Inn. Her parents always told their children to engage the customers in conversation, no matter how unimportant the topic might seem. It was good for business, they said.

"I'm Miranda, from the town of Riverbend."

 

[jackslate45]

Lune Xanfire

Lune Xanfire never slept in. Normally he is up at sunrise to greet the day, and pray to Heironeous for guidance and strength. The rigorous training he did at the temple ensured that he was up again at dawn, and had just finished praying when the knock on the door caused him to look up questioningly. The reply that was given put a smile on his face, and he decided to wait to put on all of his gear.

Entering the dining room and smelling all the wonderfully cooked food caused his stomach to churn with excitement. After only trail rations and water, he was very happy to enjoy an actual meal.

He nods towards each of his table mates, and says to the girl who introduces herself "Good morning and well met Miranda of Riverbend. I am Lune Xanfire, from Targas. And good morning and greetings to the rest of you. "

As the rest of them start introducing themselves, Lune takes the jug of milk, pours himself a glass and offers it up silently to his table mates.

 

[Dragonwriter]

Ararion quietly followed to the table, still a little groggy from his trance. It felt a bit as if the trance had not been truly restful... At least no fingers had gone roaming through pockets during the night. Still, he wasn't going to let a bad night ruin what should be a good day.

He notes the apparently-unkempt elf apparently joining him for breakfast... He also notes the various breakfast compatriots, eyes at first only picking up on the basics. Gods, he hadn't realized how tired he actually felt... A lightly-bearded human man, dressed simply and looking like he was used to the outdoors. A thinner human man of a seemingly-quiet demeanor. Two lovely human women, one blond and one brunette. And a dwarf... He sighs inwardly. He didn't appreciate having to share a table with a dwarf. In his little experience in the world, they always seemed either surly or drunk, with very little room in between. If he was lucky, the dwarf would be a drunk and a quiet one...

He plates up a bread, fruit, eggs and sausage for himself. As the blond girl introduces herself, he gives a smile in return. "Yes, morning. A pleasure, I'm sure..." He sets his plate down along with his fork as he yawns and suddenly rubs at his eyes. "Oh, forgive me... Where are my manners? My name is Ararion. Of Jeransport."

 

[Axel]

Olek

Olek had been snoring soundly in the common room before the wake-up call. It had been his first night's sleep on a mattress in nearly 2 weeks, and the first without wearing his armour and a weapon lying near to hand. It felt good to relax, even a little. It felt even better to be sitting down to a civilized breakfast. Though there are always flies in an ointment. He glowered around the table from beneath bushy eyebrows. Humans and elves... Even the other tables don't have Dwarves. What am I doing here?

Piling his plate high with eggs and meat he listened in silence to the other's chirpy voices while stuffing his face. Finally, his curiosity and frustration got the better of him. With a mouth full of food he spoke up, "Just where are these places then? I've never heard of Jeransport. Or Riverbend or Targas. Are they a pleasant stroll down the road, or have you crossed a mountain range and three rivers to get here like I have? And do none of you take pride in your kin and their achievements?"

Having chewed his last bit of bacon fat he rose to his feet and placed his right hand on his chest. Arguably it made him shorter than when he sat on the oversized human furniture. "I am Olek, slayer of four trolls, third son of Ovo, Patriarch of the Stonebreaker clan, Guildmaster of the Masons of Khordaldrum." Sitting down again with a huff he reached for more bacon and glowered at the rest of the table. "Now THAT is how you are supposed to introduce yourself."

 

[Dragonwriter]

Ararion sours quickly as the dwarf speaks. It would seem this dwarf fell on the surly side... "Perhaps that is how you introduce yourself among your people, but such boasts rarely mean anything to people without proof, at least in my experience. And from looking at you, I would think you were the slayer of four Troll's Breath Ale kegs. I would find that more believable than a troll-slayer sitting at a table such as this, even with the good quality of food." His tone remains amiable. Whether it is intended to be honest and conversational or mocking is hard to determine...

"As for your questions, I cannot speak to the others, but Jeransport is more than thirty leagues from here, across part of a small inland sea and through the Harrowwood. I doubt a dwarf who has only seen the sky for a month would recognize the name, but perhaps I am mistaken. Regardless, Harrowwood is an ancient forest and a known haunt of various fey, many of them of a less-than-friendly nature. Yet it was the only path from Jeransport to this place, and so I am here.

"As for my family... No." His voice goes from reasonable to cold and his eyes and expression follow suit.

 

[Axel]

Olek

"Trust an elf to cast doubt on an honest Dwarf's honour!" Olek shouted, rising from his seat again. "Such statements as mine are not idle boasts, but may be verified. Lo!" he added, rolling up the sleeve on his right arm and turning to show Ararion.

"This is a sight that makes me the gladder for rubbing into your eyes, elf." Pointing to the three numbers tattooed on his arm, he explained further. "This is my unit that I served with," pointing to a series of characters that looked like CII. "These are my years of service," indicating the more easily readable numbers 97-107, "And these were scratched with the teeth of each troll that I brought down with the lads." The last statement ends with Olek pointing to four jagged lines that run from above his elbow to just below the markers 97-107. "Such honours are seldom won by an individual. I would know of your achievements in this world more taxing than walking before telling you more of mine," Olek concluded with a glare.

"You may tell much about a man by the company he keeps and his kin's achievements. Show me a youngling at 20 and I'll tell you the Dwarf," he added, before sitting down only slightly mollified and stuffing his face with more meat.

 

[ahayford]

Daelyn awoke to the sounds and smells of morning. The cacaphony of dishes clinking together and the low rumbling of the conversations of the early risers shook the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. As the smells of food other then hard tack and gruel hit his nose his stomache's priorities made themselves known. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to spend any of his meager purse on anything besides the bare essentials.

Daelyn peeled himself from his cot and wiped the sleep from his eyes as he searched the room for a seat. His eyes stopped at the last empty seat where an elf and dwarf were already engaged in a battle of words. He nudged his way between the two and began heaping the remaining food on his plate. He mumbled between bites of sausage.

Please, don't let me keep you two from your arguement. I'm sure you'll resolve thousands of years of racial tension before brunch if we let you hash it out.

He looked at the other guests eating at the table and nodded.

Daelyn, from .... well...I'm here now. Lets live in the moment shall we.

 

[Dragonwriter]

"Your own words caused my doubt. Perhaps you should be more careful with them. You said you were 'slayer of four trolls' when it turns out you had an entire dwarven unit fighting with you. Claiming to simply be the slayer may certainly sound more impressive, but it is misleading when you were not the lone warrior facing them. If you had said 'veteran soldier', I would have no reason to question you and might even have congratulated you honestly." Ararion yawns again.

"But I'm not going to sit around and waste the warmth of a good breakfast talking about my past or my family. "