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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Zhure" data-source="post: 191660" data-attributes="member: 308">Serbanas is oddly charitableRallyn congratulates Victor for his efforts and winces at his injuries.Sildarin returns to his room and meditates, preparing for bed, planning on rising with the dawn.Charlotte also asks Rallyn if he will be alright.Keith uses his wand to heal some of Rallyn's wounds and also congratulates him on his courage. Rallyn thanks him and hobbles off, favoring his side and using his shortspear as a walking stick.Even though he's been healed, it's obvious Rallyn is feeling the effects of his encounter with the intantible creature -- as Charlotte notes.Victor turns aside any praise for himself, pointing out that Rallyn was the truly brave one. Victor recognizes it as a shade of some sort, though the precise kind is beyond your knowledge. Legends say that shades tend to be undauntingly evil. This one didn't seem evil so much as preoccupied. It almost appeared reluctant to attack, perphaps even only attacking in self-defense, which would be a decidedly uncharacteristic property of a shade.Charlotte calls Rallyn back to the group and asks that they make a better plan, seeing as the creature is probably still around somewhere. She explains how she thinks the group should pair up, for safety's sake, at least until the morning. Together she and Keith go off together....Kith steps over to the spot where the creature disappeared and calls forth his arcane sight to examine more closely. The area has a residual magic to it, fading quickly. After a few moments you can tell it's Transmutation magic, and appears to be a supernatural ability, rather than spell-based.He then returns to his own room and falls fast asleep with his weapon -- and Turin -- near his side.********Morning arrives quickly. For most of you the night is quite restful. For Rallyn, his sleep is cold and uncomfortable, he cannot seem to get warm, even though covered with many blankets as well as his tunic and a pile of old clothes. The fire banked in the small lantern that normally keeps the small room toasty warm doesn't seem to have any effect.Sildarin arrives especially early, just as the sun peaks over the eastern edge of the ocean. Dressing quickly in the brisk cold he travels to Serbanas's cottage for practice against a fencing dummy. The cottage door is closed, indicating Serbanas is either not home, or is in private meditations; he leaves it open when he is accepting visitors. Grassy knolls, patches of snow covering most of them block the cottage from view of most of the plateau where the Academy rests. It provides a quiet place to practice, as the hillocks tend to quiet any sound.Sildarin warms up with shadow fencing, then moves to practice strikes against the soft wooden targets carved into poles set in odd patterns around the area. He practices slowly at first, picking up the tempo, perhaps a bit angry at his performance against the odd creatures from the night before. Faster and faster his blows land, trying to replicate his imperfect blows and improve on his techniques.He stops, covered in a sheen of perspiration as slow clapping sounds from behind him. It's Serbanas, in black kilt and sleeveless tunic, rapier belted on his hip, as always.While the clapping sounds sardonic, the wry, tusked grin he gives is filled with honest good humor. "Your skills improve, Sildarin. Your fight against those creatures seems to have filled you with resolve to better your swordsmanship."I understand from overhearing your conversations that your friends are meeting at the library in the morning. You're going to be late. I've already reported everything that happened to the Guards. There's not much they can do, but are going to speak to Agius about blessing the entire place."As Sildarin starts to leave, Serbanas unsheathes his rapier and presents it to you hilt first. "You've done well in your studies. If you wish, I will retemper and sharpen yours today. Mine you may keep until yours is complete."</blockquote>

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