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Drazzel smiles in surprise when he sees Termia open her eyes. Then sees Bina get struck down.
Ghak! Not Bina now!
Looks like me's playing cleric in this battle.
He rolls his eyes in dismay.
He scampers between Termia's legs over to Bina's side, scrambling to pull his healing potion from his belt. He pops the pull-tab and starts pouring it into Bina's mouth.
Here, Beanie! You'se need it! Drink it all up.
Looks like me's not very good cleric.
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Desperately, Termia's guisarme lances out just as Mirielle turns her head towards the warrior with a sneer. The blade slices into the spellcaster's eyes, and a vision of the dark cloud she was casting puffs out of existence as she collapses to the ground with a scream.
"Solvatar, you prig! You told me that it was just a simple training exercise and the manor grounds were warded! That REALLY hurt."
At that, a familiar voice sounds out across the courtyard from behind you all as your erstwhile host reappears, a cheeky smile on his face, from within the house.
"It is, my love! It is. Heh heh." He holds his hands out wide "“Well done, fellow Pathfinders! You’ve defeated the threat assaulting my manor. The jig is up! This manor is ritually warded in a manner akin to the arena that Farabellus had you fighting in earlier, so there was no risk that you or any of the mercenaries you fought today would come to lasting harm." He walks over to the crumpled form of Mirielle and offers her his hand, gently assisting her in rising to her feet.
"May I introduce to you my sweet love, Mirielle Caryg?" An angry red welt mars the brow of the somewhat-upset looking changeling woman as Solvatar makes an odd introduction. "What she said was true - I will indeed get it back in kind from your keen blow," here, he winks at Termia.
"Well played, all of you. I do not demean the value of what you have accomplished here. Had this attack been real, you would have saved the lives of many of my staff, and for that, I am grateful. You acted swiftly when a seemingly safe situation turned awry. Your training has served you well. If I am not mistaken, the three Deans are awaiting your arrival back at the Grand Lodge. If you would be so kind as to avoid commenting on this--- ” here, he holds his hands out wide --- "simulation so that we may continue to use it for the training of future generations of Pathfinders, yes?"
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Bina can hardly speak, she's so furious. "Wh--is this a game to you?? You just assaulted us for some kind of test? What is wrong with you people?!"
She shoves her sword back into its hidden sheath in her cane. "This whole bloody thing is a farce! You should be ashamed of yourselves." Without another word, she storms off in the direction of the Grand Lodge.
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The druid tries to take this... game with philosophy. Perhaps that's the way up to the Pathfinder's confirmation: changes and artifices before to meet really the reality. Himself he changed already sometimes. Sure that these fights for nothing or even better said these fights as private jokes will amuse only a few of the would-be Pathfinders. But they won't kill the newcomers before sending them in mission this way. That can be understood even if a bit frustrating for the ones who wanted to save the world immediately.
He simply nods to the beloved before to leave in direction of the Grand Lodge.
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Drazzel looks around, puzzled, as Bina storms off and realizing the final combat was just a grand charade.
At least we's wins the fight, right?
He shrugs.
He runs after Bina, trying to catch up to her. When he finally catches up, he tugs on her pant leg to stop her.
We's passa test! You's did real good. Just like Termy, Drilly, and Leafi. We's Passafinders now!
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As you enter the Grand Lodge, the three deans of the Pathfinder Schools stand in waiting. As one, they begin a round of applause.
"Huzzah!" yells Marcos Farabellus.
Ambrus Valsin steps into the entrance hall from a side passage. "We have been keeping tabs on your progress, Pathfinders," the moustachioed captain says with a smile. "You have comported yourselves well. I'll leave your feedback with the deans. Come to my office when they're done with you - I'm sure we've got some assignment for you." He nods at you all, then exits the hall.
Master of Scrolls Kreighton Shaine steps forward, a large lizard inexplicably draped about his neck. "You may all follow me." He leads you into a conference room off the main hall.
The catered formal debriefing takes a few hours, clearly delineating your successes (the obstacle course) and failures (the imp) throughout the sessions. At the end of the exhaustive feedback session, the three Deans give you grades as a group.
"Pass!" Master of Swords pronounces with enthusiasm.
"Pass." Master of Spells bestows her grade upon you with a faint smile.
"Marginal pass." Master of Scrolls Shaine's gaze rests on Bina as he says the words. "I envision that this comes as little surprise, but the summative performance, along with your further success at Caryg Manor, indicates your worth as fully-qualified Pathfinders. Congratulations." He seems to be watching Bina's face closely.
At that point, the three deans excuse themselves and allow you to disperse as you see fit. Your full licence to explore, report, and cooperate has been well and truly earned!