Dr. Virigass shakes head. "No, no you will not need to burn or shave anything. Gremlin lice can only survive on gremlins. They will die on their own within a day or so." He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "But I will say this breed of lice seems little odd, even for gremlin lice. Usually, they have developed grayer coloration to adapt to urban life on the grimple gremlin. But these are the maroon coloration thought to have been the original coloration back before cities."
"So we've been infested by odd lice from a previous era?" Mohk scratched his head to try and resist scratching his back. His skin was unnaturally tough, far more so than most humanoids he'd been told, but scratching at it too much would still damage it eventually. He was mildly impressed the thrice-damned lice could manage it and would have been more so if they weren't on him.
"Do they normally limit themselves to the, uh, lower back like this? It seems odd that we both got them at pretty much the same time, within minutes of meeting and starting class, and in the same place." Someone's idea of a hazing ritual? It wouldn't be the weirdest such prank he'd heard of - that involved a lot more fruit - but people were, if nothing else, oddities.
On the plus side, he'd probably look just fine shaved smooth, if it came to it. "Is there a way to treat them a little faster, by chance? I'm not one for rumours, but having lice on your first day is going to be a bit of a stigma. Especially with the whole..." He gestured to the sweeping horns on his head. Although he'd had limited experience of it personally, he was well aware that some people did not like Tieflings.
As Gennie and Mohk went to the clinic, Marz tried to find her way to the next class. She had her notebook in hands, in which she tried almost aimlessly to capture small details from everything she was seeing. Yet, on the back page of it, she had written the overall weekly schedule, and was hoping the notes were enough for her to find her ways around.
Elves are particular keen sighted, and Marz wasn't an exception; the shy, socially awkward youngster moved around with dexterous grace, but it was fairly obvious that the students around her were likely more apt to the arcane studies - she tried to convince herself that she read about barbaric warriors which could instinctively generate magic effects by tapping into draconic bloodlines, and that she would likely see more misfits around, but so far it didn't seem to be the case.
Jermaine is also heading to his next class, but is more vocal, "I still think it's odd this happened on their first day. It's rotten for them too, not just the itching, but even with notes they'll be a bit behind if they can't join in in time to make the class. From what Master Tomas said, they may come down hard on any of us who can't hold up. I can't afford to get kicked out. My family needs me to succeed."
Mezdav heads quietly for the next class, where he continues to be a diligent student (if not outgoing). He does keep an eye out as he wanders between buildings, thinking he might spot some plants that could be used as a poultice to control itching... (He doesn't want to be up all night listening to Mohk itch and squirm.)
1 rank +3 trained +1 wis
Gennie blushes. ”Right, I should have known that. Mohk, you’d be quite dashing. I’m sorry to get you dragged into this.” She shrugs, realizes he can’t see it and moves on.
”Truthfully, this sort of thing happens around me. My mothers, Teachers, even Tai all say I have too much karma, both good and ill. When I was younger I thought having a grand destiny was amazing.”. She smiles wanly, then touches his hand.
”I’m just glad it was a minor prank. I don’t know why the universe is so invested in having adventures. At this point, I just hope to survive it. If it’s happening to you too, we’ll I won’t say I’m glad you itch, but I will say it’s nice to have some company in the infirmary. If there’s nothing to be done about it, we should run to our next class. Think you can keep up?”
"Oh, I'm very pretty and dashing, yes," Mohk said with a grin, squeezing her fingers with the confidence of someone who'd never had to deal with a mirror. "But this isn't likely any more your fault than it is mine. I mean, everyone gets told they have bad luck sometimes, right? Even if you do have an excess of Karma it's not like you get a say in it, so it's no more your fault if a little spills over now and then it would be if some idiot hurled a rock at me for the whole 'horns and tail' thing and one of you guys got hit. I'd still feel awful about it, but I'm not at fault. And if you're right, then neither are you."
Those not afflicted with itching cross through the quad, past the fountain and statue of the university's founder, across to the east wing for Elementary Necromancy. There, you wind up a tight stairway to a well-lit, fastidiously organized room full of jars of preserved organs and shelves of mummified animals. A tall, thin, human man stands at the front of the classroom, tapping his foot, lips set in a firm, thin line. Behind him stands a pale woman.
As the first years settle into rows of hardbacked wooden chairs, Master Elias snaps "Silence! It is time to begin. We will see who is prepared for University-level education." He draws out a scroll case and removes a scroll. He reads from the scroll and touches the face of the woman where a nasty bruise appears and she winces. Then he reads from another scroll and touches his own face, creating another nasty bruise. Then he reads a third scroll and touches the woman's face again and the bruise disappears and her grimace soothes. Then he casts another spell and the bruise on his own face disappears.
Imperiously, he demands "Raise your hand and explain!" A richly dressed young elf in the front row raises his hand "You cast a damaging spell on her and yourself then a curative spell on both of you." Master Elias's gazes coldly at the elf, walks forward, and slaps him suddenly across the face. "You will write out 'I must not be an arrogant fool' one thousand times and slip the writing under my door before dinner." Then he looks around. "Anyone else? I advise you to confer with your neighbors before offering me any more foolishness."
The first and fourth spells he cast were the same. The second and third were also the same.
The woman is a dhampir, an unusual race descended from humans and vampires that is healed by negative energy and harmed by positive energy.
The first and fourth spells were cure light wounds.
The second and third spells were inflict light wounds.
Professor Virigass shakes hisbhead to Mohk. "No cure worth attempting. They will resolve quickly enough. As to the location, I suspect they simply started there and will spread a little before dying out." He brushes off his hands as if in conclusion. "Now! To class with you." He hands you both notes to excuse your absence.
1 rank +3 trained +2 int
Edit:
Mezdav is thoroughly baffled, but has enough sense to keep his mouth shut, so as not to confirm his ignorance. All this spellcasting, where is the alchemy?
Jermaine feels oddly at home amid the jars of preserved organs and mumified animals. His former teacher had similar samples and the only thing really disturbing about it is how undisturbed he is.
But that's okay, Master Elias turns out to be disturbing all on his own.
Jermaine takes a seat when the call for Silence goes out, and the demonstration is made. He fails to hide his wince as the pale young woman develops a bruise from the spell, even as he feels a curiosity where this is going. He prepares to take notes not just for himself as he promised he would.
then the nicely dressed elf guy nearby gets slapped! Jermaine eyes narrow. Not that he's not seen that before. In his neighborhood, some folks get cuffed by their employers or seniors with a bullying indifference at times. Doesn't mean he likes seeing it.
my word I think Morbial is kinder than Master Elias
He focuses on the solution, recalling on what he's read and studied
Rather than raise his hand , he confers with those near him and whispers to them "I believe she's a Dhampir and he's using healing magics to harm her, and harming magics to heal her while using them more...traditionally on himself. Do any of you deduce the same? He wanted us to consult each other"
"Ooh fascinating!" Whisken intones quietly. "I heard a tale of a dhampir investigator who struggles through all the traps in a crypt until the final one. Wounded and bleeding, they noticed it was a harm that. They walked right through and were completely restored to health!" She's so excited her whisper turns much louder toward the end of the anecdote.
Jermaine's eyebrows lift at that anecdote, "Interesting. I wonder how common healing traps are..." Then he realizes they might be getting off subject and in their excitement risking trouble"I suggest we focus on the solution though. Do you agree with my observations, can any of you add to it?"
Marz haven't really read much of the books on necromancy before the class other than some glancing; she made a grin face when the thin man started speaking. She was starting to get a general sense that all professors around were somewhat stern, and would ask a lot more from their students that they were truly capable of - yet, she made an effort to pay attention and remember the bare things she read about.
As Jermaine and Whisken start whispering, she approaches, shy, and confers with them.
I didn't know she was a dhampir... Neither I honestly know much about dhampirs at all. - she paused, eyes around, before continuing - But the spells were clearly cure wounds and inflict wounds... The simplest version of such spells, I mean.
She approached Jermaine and her big eyes ogled him with curiosity.
You like... Necromancy, right? I thought the spells to inflict wounds would only be beneficial to... Undead! - she spoke as if she said a bad word - But she looks alive, despite her paleness!
Marz was also visibly afraid; despite living beyond a century, she didn't really have any encounters with the unliving, other than hearing about how dangerous they were.
It is just then that Gennie and Mohk enter the Necromancy classroom. Master Elias gazes coldly at them. "Perhaps you are too daft to find your classrooms on time. I will be lenient this once. Copy out 'Tardiness is lazy and inexcusable' one thousand times and have it under my door by dinner." He gestures sharply toward the empty seats by Whisken, Mezdav, Jermaine, and Marz.
"Of course, sir. Thank you for your restraint. We also have a note from the clinic. Gremlin lice. Someone thinks spellcraft is a game, Master Elias. A game with no consequence." Gennie's behavior is decidedly formal and deferential to the old master, and she heads to a seat and begins diligently writing lines. Even Tai seems oddly subdued.
I didn't know she was a dhampir... Neither I honestly know much about dhampirs at all. - she paused, eyes around, before continuing - But the spells were clearly cure wounds and inflict wounds... The simplest version of such spells, I mean.
She approached Jermaine and her big eyes ogled him with curiosity.
You like... Necromancy, right? I thought the spells to inflict wounds would only be beneficial to... Undead! - she spoke as if she said a bad word - But she looks alive, despite her paleness!
Marz was also visibly afraid; despite living beyond a century, she didn't really have any encounters with the unliving, other than hearing about how dangerous they were.
"Good eye, Marz. Thank you. You're a life saver. I just wasn't sure enough before." Jermaine looked excited as Marz keen observations clenched what sort of spells they were. Then her question about Dhampirs caught him off guard then he says "I don't know if I'd say I LIKE Necromancy, it is what I was trained in though and I understand it better than other types of magic. Dhampir are alive, but they inherit some undead like qualities due to their origins or so I recall my old master saying. One of them is that healing spells hurt them, just like the undead."
then he sees gennie and Mohk enter and is glad he's been taking notes for them to copy, but Master Elias is really eager to hand out writing work.
Nervously, since he does have the answer, he raises his hand, but doesn't speak yet.
Master Elias eyes Gennie and Mohk inscrutably as they sit.
Jermaine is the first to raise his hand after the Master Necromancer makes an example of the young elf. The teacher inclines his head toward Jermaine and waits for the young human's answer.
Mezdav continues to do his best imitation of an empty chair; he's not giving Elias a target.
He gives a nod to those who are sitting next to him so it is understood they worked as a team, then back to the teacher, "Master Elias, After conferring with others, I would say Your assistant appears to be a Dhampir. They have vampiric heritage that alters them from most so that spells that inflict harm upon the living heal them, and spells that heal the living harm them; though she is quite alive herself. You wounded her lightly with a cure spell, then inflicted a wounding spell upon yourself. This bruised you both. Then you cast a spell of inflicting light wounds upon her, which healed her with its negative energy because of her nature, then cast the standard light cure upon yourself which healed your own wound."
He holds his breath and awaits the teacher's judgment.
Handing over his own note and smiling ruefully, Mohk's ears perked up at the mention of Dhampir. He'd been told about them, as one of the other races that tended to get, well, crap. He had no idea they didn't heal from positive energy like most folks did, though. That was kinda fascinating. He wondered how that quirk worked. Was it the necromantic energy in them 'rebelling' when faced with positive magic, or if it was biological somehow?
The master necromancer's face is unreadable but he nods when Jermaine finishes. "Acceptable. It should now be obvious to all of you that necromancy delves into the subtle arts of the negative energy that moves or halts life, depending on the context. This is an important and valuable tool in the right hands and a deadly horror in the wrong hands, as with all potent magic."
He then spends the next hour explaining the fundamentals of negative energy in terms of its origins, its various uses in spells, its effects on or emanations from specific creatures and artefacts, and other details. He speaks rapidly with precise enunciation and Whisken, who is taking notes vigorously, often has to shake her quill-hand and try to massage life back into it.
The bell sounds for the mid-day break and students begin filing out. In a less hostile, more neutral tone of voice, he asks to see Mohk's and Gennie's notes then nods. "You are excused from your lines. But do not make this a habit."
You have a thirty minute break before your next class, just enough time to eat and catch up.
Once you are outside, Whisken pulls a seed-cake from her basket and begins nibbling on it. "So what happened? And I still haven't heard what some of you want to specialize in!" she inquires, somewhere between endearing and obnoxious.
"Oh, no sir. I'll write the lines, sir. I was late, and the rules are there for a reason, Sir. I owe you a set of lines, so lines you shall have. Jaidi wouldn't like me excusing myself from honest work. She nods her head emphatically then continues in less of a rush and more seriously.
"I just wanted you to see the note so you'd know to look for 'pranks'." Her lips twist as she says pranks and she continues quietly.
"I still remember Mama's fury about the Caydenite's 'pranks', even if she never told us what they were. That family didn't deserve to be driven out. Have a good day, sir." She stops, collects her papers and heads out of the class, rushing just a bit to catch up to her friends.
"I hope you have notes from the start for me to copy? I'm a quick hand but missing Master Elias's introduction to the subject wasn't how I wanted to start the semester. The man's a genius, Mama said, but she also said he only ever gave anyone enough rope to hang themselves." She pauses then continues as if she can't quite remember the conversation.
"There was Something about trust being twice as hard, no, twice as precious once it's betrayed?" She doesn't sound certain, and waves her hand a moment later.
"That's one of Korada's verses and I never could remember them. Jaidi just wants us to work harder when we fail, there's never any talk about doubt." She pulls some tightly wrapped cheese and bread from her sash and a small flask of water, then if someone offers notes to copy she settles down to do so.
Mohk smiled as the professor allowed them to not write the lines, but winced behind his blindfold as Gennie decided she was going to do so anyway. "Uh, for future reference, sir, I'm afraid I'll need an alternative punishment. I'm afraid I'm blind and unable to write in the traditional sense." Or any other sense, really.
Jermaine had hoped they'd done better than 'adequate' but as Master elias goes on, the young wizard finds himself nodding at the warning given over the power and responsibility of magic, necromatic magic in particular.
Much like whiskin, he works hard to write down all said for the hour after that , elements of negative energy and the plane it comes from, how it interacts with the positive etc.
Once you are outside, Whisken pulls a seed-cake from her basket and begins nibbling on it. "So what happened? And I still haven't heard what some of you want to specialize in!" she inquires, somewhere between endearing and obnoxious.
"I hope you have notes from the start for me to copy? I'm a quick hand but missing Master Elias's introduction to the subject wasn't how I wanted to start the semester. The man's a genius, Mama said, but she also said he only ever gave anyone enough rope to hang themselves." She pauses then continues as if she can't quite remember the conversation.
"Necromancy for me, though I know you mean the others" he says trying to answer both "And i took notes for folks to copy if you need it, Gennie. whisken may have taken better ones though. Hope you and Mohk are recovering? wait, your mom respects Master Elias? he seems a bit rough. which reminds me."
He looks about for the elf that was slapped, wondering if the fellow is okay. And if he sees him, he waves to him, "Are you okay? I'm Jermaine, by the way."
A tiny smile quirks the corner of Master Elias's mouth when Gennie vows to do her lines anyway while Mohk advises the Master on how to punish him better next time. In a firm tone, he closes the matter "Pray I will not need said future reference, young sir, for you should not doubt my ingenuity to devise an effective punishment." Then he whirls, robe flapping, and begins muttering over a jar of eyeballs, his back turned to you.
Gennie copies with a quick and efficient hand, her focus totally absorbed in the lesson, and decidedly less on the conversation. After she finishes copying one set of notes, she adds details from the second then looks up, a bright smile on her face.
”That was excellent. Now, specializations? I’m not sure yet. Conjuration, Transmutation, perhaps Illusion, even Necromancy” she waves the notes, then tucks them away.
”They’re all so fascinating. How did you choose just one?”. As she speaks she pulls her lines back out. She then continues to write, with neat numbers and tiny compact script, but her focus stays on the group.
Turning to Jermaine she smiles widely at his questions. ”Oh yes. Mama respected him greatly. They had history but she never spoke of it, just told me not to judge him by first impressions. To be honest I still itch, but they said at the clinic that it would resolve by this evening, and itching is a small thing to endure to attend the first week of Acadamae.” She shrugs then, somewhat awkwardly, and puts her gear away.
[b]”Come on, we want to be a bit early for our next class. It’s in the old tower and we’ll want good seats if we’re to hear anything!”. She nods toward the path and moves off again.
Marz moved to walk with Gennie and the others, nodding in agreement to pick up the pace to get early for the next class. As they went, though, she approached her colleague and spoke in a low volume, almost whispering.
Gremlin lice? - she asked, controlling her eyes to avoid ogling Gennie's back - Did they say how exactly you got it? Was it really a prank of sorts? I never heard of it!
"Specializations? Uh...I'm not really sure." Mohk sat, pondering how to avoid getting on the necromantic master's bad side. "My actual spells are pretty limited. I can do some healing, and I can make someone blind, along with a few cantrips - Detect Magic and Know Direction really help me get around. Most of my magic comes from dancing. I can make myself tougher and better in a fight, and I can ward everyone around me while I dance. Not at the same time, though, and only for about half a minute." He pulled some jerky from a pouch on his belt, pulling it out the waxed paper before devouring it.
Whisken cheerfully offers for Gennie to look at her notes, if she likes. When Gennie talks about specializing, Whisken looks downright day-dreamy. "Well you don't HAVE to specialize but most people do. It makes it much easier in fourth year and beyond to only have one of the masters overseeing your research projects. As for me, I've always been fascinated by the odd creatures from other planes. So conjuration was an easy choice."
The young elf, a slight bruise forming on his cheek, scoffs "Of course I am alright! But That Elias will be hearing from the Midiccis! He'll be lucky if he lasts the rest of the term."
The Midicci family are lesser nobles of a long bloodline.
Turning to Jermaine she smiles widely at his questions. ”Oh yes. Mama respected him greatly. They had history but she never spoke of it, just told me not to judge him by first impressions. To be honest I still itch, but they said at the clinic that it would resolve by this evening, and itching is a small thing to endure to attend the first week of Acadamae.”
Jermaine listens and nods, "well, if your mother respects him I guess that speaks well of him. I'll try not to judge him too soon though the slap he gave seemed a bit much. I am glad the itching will abate. Oh, I need to go out and get food while theres time."
The young elf, a slight bruise forming on his cheek, scoffs "Of course I am alright! But That Elias will be hearing from the Midiccis! He'll be lucky if he lasts the rest of the term."
"I..see." He says "While I think the slap was a bit uncalled for I don't think it's productive to try to ruin's the man's career. Plenty of folks get worse than that in some parts of the city from their employers. Look, I'm Jermaine. Maybe we could work together on...'
Suddenly his eyes widen, then he inclines his head, "I was going to offer to assist you in necromatic study, but ... if they are your patrons then I suppose that's redundant. Your pardon."
Marz held her silence, waiting for the interaction between Jermaine and the young Elf. She was an Elf herself - yet, from a very different background. She actually had to keep her composure to avoid chuckling - as, in her line of work, the Midiccis had been "visited" by her and her group already in the past. She instinctively crossed both hands behind her back - she wasn't using any jewelry, but by reflex she hid them.
She was also somewhat intrigued by the ratfolk's obsession with specializations; her line of thought made sense, but Marz hadn't really thought well about it. She brought up enchantment and abjuration when they first talked, and even illusions fascinated her, but in truth she would try to learn anything that would save her skin.
Mohk had no idea who the family Midiccis were, but they sounded important. "You can help me study Necromancy, Jermaine. And everything else, really. I get the feeling my level of magical skill probably isn't the highest here." The tiefling shrugged cheerfully. His goal was to learn and to pass. Getting the best grade possible was far down his list of priorities, although it was a goal he wouldn't mind to achieve if possible.
The elf tries to stare Jermaine down, asserting dominance. "That's right. Make sure you remember who my family is." He turns to stomp off.
The young Midicci is pompous but he is acting even more so than normal because he is genuinely shaken by and furious about the slap.
After lunch, it's time for Artifice Class. You head toward the tower where the classroom is but are stopped by a horrible, sour smell outside the classroom.
The smell is coming from a supply closet next to the Artifice classroom.
It isn’t until he stomps off in a huff that Gennie even recognizes him, but she startles as she recognizes the sulking. She stares a moment at the retreating form, then gives herself a shake and asks the obvious question. ”Tai, when did Anthony get accepted to the Acadamae? Did you know he was going to be here? I thought he said he was going to study abroad?” The mongoose doesn’t stir, she’s drifted off for a nap. Gennie shrugs and walks faster to class.
Arriving at the artifice room, she sweeps past the supply cabinet and it’s gathered students without a single concern, her thoughts still caught up in the rush to secure a good seat and have one class go well. Tai stirs in her sleep and buries her sensitive nose further in her sack, but as they are quickly into the classroom the scent does not bother her either.
”This will do. Wait, Tai? Where is everyone?”. The mongoose’s sleepy head pokes out of the bag on her back and surveys the space.
Mohk had no idea what was up with the guy, but such was life. People got angry all the time and Mohk was not always in the know as to why, and since he wasn't even sure who this guy was it was a struggle to be upset over why he was annoyed. Hi finished nibbling on his jerky. "Oh, you know the angry guy? He seemed angry."
[ooc]Step Two[/dice]
Following along with the others and reaching out to use the wall to guide himself, Mohk's head turned towards the closet as he passed. "I guess they keep some of the more impressive smelling stuff in there, huh?" Hopefully it wouldn't be too strong. Getting overwhelmed by scent was a pain in the tail, as it were. Not as bad as sound could be, but still...
The supply closet has been left slightly ajar.
The smell coming from the supply closet is certainly not a normal alchemical agreement.
Mohk had no idea who the family Midiccis were, but they sounded important. "You can help me study Necromancy, Jermaine. And everything else, really. I get the feeling my level of magical skill probably isn't the highest here." The tiefling shrugged cheerfully. His goal was to learn and to pass. Getting the best grade possible was far down his list of priorities, although it was a goal he wouldn't mind to achieve if possible.
"Happy to help anyone, Mohk. I'm sure I'll be relying on others too after all. We're all just trying to make it, right?" The Tiefling seems so confident , even when admitting he might need aid. Jermaine admired that.
The elf tries to stare Jermaine down, asserting dominance. "That's right. Make sure you remember who my family is." He turns to stomp off.
Jermaine had felt embarrassed offering help to one who had the money to buy PROFESSIONAL tutors, but this sudden in his face behavior after he'd tried to be nice causes him to set his jaw. He should probably back down, the rich had ways of making a poor man suffer for kicks. But while he doesn't say anything stupid, he makes sure he doesn't flinch.
Mohk had no idea what was up with the guy, but such was life. People got angry all the time and Mohk was not always in the know as to why, and since he wasn't even sure who this guy was it was a struggle to be upset over why he was annoyed. Hi finished nibbling on his jerky. "Oh, you know the angry guy? He seemed angry."
A nod and once the elf is gone he adds in a mutter "Starting to see why Master Elias smacked him."
Did anyone besides Gennie and Whisken sort out their lunch? Or did anyone talk about where you wanted to eat? I think Gennie and Whisken just started eating as you walked. It's fine if we don't settle this, just an RP opportunity.
"Cainei?" He says surprised, "What are you doing so close to the school? I was going to a shop for food near where you learn your craft."
"I thought I'd shorten your trip. Someone told me the school might have lunch about now anyway and even Seamstress' apprentices get breaks now and then," Cainei's eyes shot past him, "What's it like in there? Are they nice? Are you all wearing robes, or are breaches allowed?"
"It's a school," he says pragmatically, "Rather serious so far, we're learning how to control very dangerous forces. I.. have made some friends. At least, I think they could be friends."
"Wonderful" Caineil says as a ray of sunshine, "We were worried you get lonely. Think of it, in the future, you and they could form some sort of wise council of wizards and magicians! You'll see the world, work wonders..."
"Have people cross the other side of the street when the Necromancer goes by?" He points out dryly even as he takes the food.
"Oh you are such a sog," She rolls her eyes, "I wish I had magic. It would be so much more interesting than sewing."
"I bet it beats the mill," He points out and slips some coins in her hand "Get this to mother, please. Be careful not to show it until you get to her and watch out for pickpockets."
She looks down ,suddenly serious, then nods "Okay. I have a hundred questions. Write me?"
"We're in the same city" He points out, but then smiles "Fine, Cainei. I'll write. You write me too?"
"Will do," She beams starting to walk away, then she spins and makes a ridiculously convuluted gesture with her hands "Alzammy whammy bammy" Then pulls her hands up "See, I got half the spells already."
Now Jermaine rolls HIS eyes, "Lateeerr Cainei." And they part. Jermaine savoring the hot bread as he readies for his next class.
After lunch, it's time for Artifice Class. You head toward the tower where the classroom is but are stopped by a horrible, sour smell outside the classroom
At first he actually doesn't smell it, then he covers his nose, "What is that? Is.. this some kind of test?"
Marz didn't notice anything particularly off about the arrogant young man, kept silent, and moved away.
The Elf approached with the others, then put her hand subtly on Mohk's shoulder.
You're very perceptive, my friend. Be careful! - she said, as she looked closer to analyze the source of the smell through the open supply closet.
This is not a normal alchemical reagent... - she concluded - Not sure if we should stay this close. We should probably reach to one of the professors and stay away from it!
vs DC 14
1 rank +3 trained +1 wis +2 scavenger
vs DC 12
1 rank +3 trained +2 int
Mezdav catches the odor coming from the supply closet and says "That's odd. That's no normal alchemical component". He thinks for a second while looking carefully at the closet, (has it been disturbed or some accidental "trap", like a stack of beaker that will fall if the door is disturbed)
1 rank +3 trained +1 wis +2 scavenger
and then his curiosity gets the better of him and he peeks inside...
Mezdav doesn't see any risk in opening the door and peeks inside. There he finds a splatter of something yellowish on the back of the door. It reeks horribly and everyone nearby has to repress an urge to vomit!
Once your stomach is under control, you can examine the partially dried, pungent residue.
The residue is the vomit of a grimple gremlin, which they spew at their enemies to nauseated them. It would be strange for a grimple gremlin to be here as those that occasionally live in cities occupy abandoned buildings and the like.
Gennie shrugs, pulls out her lines and continues writing. After a moment, she pulls a second set of parchment out and begins copying out an additional set leaving room for a larger signature at the end of each.
"I wonder why class hasn't started. Oh well, more time to get caught up. I don't suppose you've a magical solution for itching, Tai?"
Tai licks Gennie's ear, then curls up to go back to sleep.
+2 class +2 con +2 luck
Medav keeps his lunch...
1 rank +3 trained +1 wis
Mohk swallowed but kept his jerky in his stomach. He wasn't able to add much to the discussion.