Volume I: Kindled Magic
Chapter 1: Orientation
Place: Magaambya Academy, City of Nantambu, western edge of the Mwangi Expanse, Garund, Golarion
Time: Moonday, 1 Rova, 4724AR
On this first day of the term, only a select few new Initiates are welcomed inside the gates of the most prestigious magic academy in the world. You are among that group of six, who appear to be of all shapes and sizes, including ancestries you may have never seen before. Once settled and fed, the small group is escorted into an outdoor plaza that stands between several buildings inside the venerated Academy. Assembled into one line the new Initiates are awestruck by the sights of the place. Massive mosaics of Jatembe's Ten Magic Warriors overlook the plaza and the school's terraced gardens along with the surrounding water-borne city of Nantambu make a breathtaking view that is only slightly spoiled by a steady downpour of rain. Fortunately, a magical disc of some size stands over the open courtyard keeping those assembled warm and dry.
Strolling out from one of the building is a lone man wearing colorful blue and yellow robes and headdress, carrying a long tree-branch as a staff. He strides with clear determination to point in front of the Initiates. His eyes are warm, and his smile inviting as he speaks in a gentle soothing timbre:
"Welcome, and a kind hello new students. It is my pleasure to instruct you. You may call me Teacher Ot. You are embarking now on a life of study and service. We see within you intellect, passion, and judgment -- in short, the virtues to build upon the strengths of the thousands who have come before you. We follow the footsteps of Old-Mage Jatembe, who showed us the price of magic is the responsibility to better the world!"
Takulu Ot makes it clear that, even though some of you were already interviewed to get this far ,and some of you he may know personally, a group interview is required upon admission to the Magaambya. He asks the group a series of questions and then waits patiently, his face still smiling as he listens to your answers. His initial question to each of you:
"Who are you?"
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One of the newly arrived students gazes in wonder as he finally enters the Magaambya Academy. The rain doesn't bother him at all, indeed, the patter all around the magical disk shielding them seems to comfort him. He is caught by the artistry of this place all around and the view? Magnificent. He gives polite nods to those others who are here to be taught, though he doesn't say anything beyond that. He takes them in but briefly, more caught up in the mosaics and view and the gentle rhythm of said rain.
Those who notice him in turn see a vibrantly dressed zenji man with bright and colorful tattoos with cloud patterns swirls of purple with edges of yellow gold to break it up cascading over obsidian hued skin. He is a bit on the short side but is by no means stunted. His clothes are currently rather wet, but like his tattoos, colorful.
And then, Teacher Ot makes himself known.
"Welcome, and a kind hello new students. It is my pleasure to instruct you. You may call me Teacher Ot. You are embarking now on a life of study and service. We see within you intellect, passion, and judgment -- in short, the virtues to build upon the strengths of the thousands who have come before you. We follow the footsteps of Old-Mage Jatembe, who showed us the price of magic is the responsibility to better the world!"
He has kindness in his eyes, Ikto thinks upon his first impression of their teacher, And the branch fits in his hand as if it were gifted by the tree rather than taken. Good. And, Old-Mage Jatembe's words were good words.
Then the interview begins...
"Who are you?"
He is not sure he should speak out first. Better to observe then speak, no?
But then, if they all wait for someone to answer, they might never get started. The thought amuses him, that they might all just STARE at Teacher Ot waiting for another to go but he is not that whimsical. Best to just speak up and see what happens he supposes. How much to share?
Cautiously at first, but with growing confidence, he answers for himself, "My name is Ikto Banashee, my parents are weavers and I know something of their trade. I am a storm dancer, a druid some would say. And now? Now I am Ikto the student as well. I look forward to growing here."
Teacher Ot beams at Ikto, first to answer. "Welcome to Magaambya, student Ikto Banashee, but say instead Initiate Ikto, and soon, when your Perquisite ends, perhaps more." He gives a small half-bow of respect, one hand wrapped around a clenched fist at his chest as he speaks this last.
"Initiate," He bobs his head with a cautious smile of his own. He will remember.
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One of the group is a young man who is so amazed by the magnitude of everything he is seeing, that one would think he never set foot in a middle sized city before. He takes a mental note of all who came in with him, but this was short enough that he could marvel at the dimensions.
He wears an unimpressive cloak over his clothes over his dark skin. If one pays attention, one can see that it is doubly folded around the head in an intricate way. The reason for this becomes clear as the outermost layer is wet from the rain, and the innermost is moist, but this keeps his head dry. Perhaps due to this fact, the young man doesn't notice that it isn't raining on him anymore, and keeps his double hood up. It is hard to see what's underneath his clothes.
He is startled when he notices the teacher speaking, as if he hadn't noticed him coming in. In truth, he actually continued marveling at the school. The teacher speaks, and then the other initiate replies. The young man twists his mouth before saying "That's all fair and nice, mr. dancer, but I believe the teacher said that this was a group interview. Perhaps he means to ask us who we are as a group?" From his tone and wording, it is clear that the young man does not speak in this way often. It is unclear whether he is making fun of the druid or just plain doesn't know how to behave in the city.
He addresses teacher Ot and says "We are a group of initiates at Magaambya, hoping to learn the ways of magic and wield the strenght of thousands. Some of us are likely smart, others wise, but I'm sure we are all energetic. Although we don't really know each other that well to answer you as a group. My name is M'baba, I'm a problem solver." He says the last bit with a grin.
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Ikto is not the only one looking around in awe and wonder.
So does a youngish woman who stares up at the statues, and then at the dome that keeps the rain off of the group.
While human, her own appearance makes her stand out in a lot of ways. She has pale eyes, even paler white skin, and hair as dark as a moonless night, all of which mark her as Chelaxian.
Her hair is worn back in a ponytail, held in place with a wooden ring that shows hints of being of Song'o design, and she wears a pretty red dress that falls to her knees and simple slippers. At her neck, and on her left wrist, she wears iron jewelry, both with the same design on them.
She steps forward, formally curtsies to Teacher Ot, and then pivots to repeat the gesture to each other student individually before she speaks.
"I am Iovia of Vidrian. I walk the path of Tlehar, The Rising Sun. Unlike Mr. Banashee, my parents are best not spoken of in polite company. I look forward to getting to know each of you.
The young man twists his mouth before saying "That's all fair and nice, mr. dancer, but I believe the teacher said that this was a group interview. Perhaps he means to ask us who we are as a group?" From his tone and wording, it is clear that the young man does not speak in this way often. It is unclear whether he is making fun of the druid or just plain doesn't know how to behave in the city.
Ikto's face grows thoughtful at the words. He is not sure if this is a chastisement, mockery, or perhaps different manners with a genuine attempt to correct as some sort of kindness? Is M'Baba right that the question was who they were as a group? Ikto did not think so. It feels too soon to say who they are as that. Yet, no doubt Teacher Ot will clarify either way. We ARE likely restless, he's right about that part, at least with me.
She steps forward, formally curtsies to Teacher Ot, and then pivots to repeat the gesture to each other student individually before she speaks.
"I am Iovia of Vidrian. I walk the path of Tlehar, The Rising Sun. Unlike Mr. Banashee, my parents are best not spoken of in polite company. I look forward to getting to know each of you.
Iovia's kind gesture of respect, not just to Teacher Ot, but each fellow student in return is pleasing to Ikto. He promptly returns a headbob of respect to her in exchange. However her words on her parents stir in him some sympathy even as the seeds of her story stir curiosity as well.
Teacher Ot looks next at M'baba, and again gives the half-bow and hand gesture, a sign of respect given and expected. His eyes never stop smiling, though you get the sense he is taking your measure nonetheless.
His clear voice says, "Unlike much about the Magaambya, there are no right or wrong answers to the interview questions, Initiate M'Baba. It is perhaps about how you choose to answer that tells us more about you. For example, you chose to think of the class as a group in your first response, this tells me something about how you think. But," he adds with small wink, "so does your willingness to call out a brother initiate. As with many things, it is neither good nor bad, it just..is"
The bow from Teacher Ot is repeated in the direction of Iovia. "Fear not, Iovia. I care little about where you have been, I care much about where you are going. Keep your eyes ahead on the road and you will go far."
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M'baba awkwardly returns the gestures and is a bit stunned by the teacher's response. He thinks So this is a test then...
The young man is oblivious to the fact that he is terrified to fail, given how much his village invested to get him here. Considering the fact that he has never cast a single cantrip in his life, he feels he is starting behind already. He wonders if some day he'll be the one appraising new initiates.
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Standing among the initiates is a tall, androgynous figure, easily one of the strangest people there: his skin the smooth green of a leaf, but his face a riot of red, yellow and orange petals forming a stern expression, eyes as dark and limpid as some of the puddles nearby. Green vines grow behind his face like a head of hair, trailing down to his shoulders like the locks of some Mwangi men.
Compared to his colorful form his clothing was almost nondescript, a white robe-like tunic and trousers, a leathery covering hanging down his front and back like a poncho, and a distinctive sword hanging at his side. He straightens up even further when attention turns to him.
"Za Minyahil is my name," he says, his Mwangi the cold, formal-sounding way it is learned in books and foreign schoolrooms, rather than the easy, flowing way one who grew up listening to the tongue speaks it. "Of Quantium. I apologize for the...disorganized state I have arrived in: my letter of introduction was lost in transit, and the Nexian arcane texts I had intended to bring as tribute in lieu of a true sponsor were...ruined in the journey. I have traveled a long way to be here, and it has been difficult, and I have little more than what I carry on my back. I would not assume your invitation now to be mere charity, though. While I cannot offer Nex's arcane wisdom to share with yours, I bear the memory of many ghoran lifetimes within my mind. What magical secrets I might dredge up from them through my studies are the Magaambya's, as I hope to learn from yours."
He looks over the other initiates with a scrutinizing gaze, his expression somewhere between expectant and annoyed. After all, he was likely the first and only ghoran any of them would ever meet, he assumed they would have questions about who and what he was.
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Assembled among the group is a tiny, pale, blonde elf. Her hair is parted behind her, slightly longer than shoulder length, as it rests loose on said shoulders. Small blue and purple flowers provide pops of color in her hair. She is dressed comfortably in colorfully-dyed leathers, though her comfort seems to end there--she shoulders a pack almost as large as she with a rapier on one hip and a flute on the other. While not quite so gobsmacked by Nantambu as those who are here for the first time--she fell in love with the city a year ago--she nevertheless finds herself distracted by the architecture, the music, the life, the pulse, of the city. The air smells sweeter to her, it carries tunes better. The sky seems brighter, even in the rain. Everything feels more vibrant. This is the pulse of a city that cares for its citizens. Absalom and all the rest would do well to learn from her example.
As she always does when feeling particularly inspired, she finds a way to work minor magic into her environment to create some small beauty. She sets her pack down, takes her flute from her hip, and plays quietly, as if only to herself. It's part prayer to Shelyn, part exploration of the mysteries of magic put forth by Nethys, part plain, simple fun. The rain animates around her, dancing to the rhythm of the song as if under its own will.
Teacher Ot's greeting immediately cuts the song, and the magic, short--both from recognition and respect. It was just a year ago when she performed with her traveling theater troupe here, just a short year ago when Ot sought her out personally to ask her about attending the Magaambya. Of course, that year of arranging everything with the school and the troupe passed quite slowly. But that mission--the mission he repeated just now, of magic being a responsibility to help others--still makes her heart swell with such force her eyes begin to water.
She stands rigidly at attention, all pretense of fun brushed suddenly and entirely aside.
"Teacher Ot." She almost chokes on the first words. She swallows the emotion and continues, her awareness of her reddening eyes and cheeks making it worse. "I am Nyandra Ravenheart, and I am come to serve. I am honored to be here, to participate in the tradition of the Magaambya. I am a storyteller, a servant of Nethys, of Shelyn--and now a student once more."
She clears her throat and looks around nervously. Wow, lighten up, sis!
"Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away with the, er, theatrics."
Ot studies Za Minyahil for a moment after the ghoran answers the initial query. "It's true, you are the first Ghoran I have seen with eyes that have seen much. But you are welcome. The journey you made to get to Magaambya, no matter how arduous, will be less than the journey you make within these walls. The trappings of outside worlds matter far less than how you fare inside your own mind. You are welcome, indeed, being who has seen many generations." The small bow is granted towards you as well.
After Nyandra finishes her introduction, Teacher Ot gives her the same half-bow. "You honor the tradition of our fair Academy, Nyandra Ravenheart, and you are hear to serve, as are we all. Just what that service entails, though, that has not yet been written. Theatrics may have a place yet to play in your story. Who knows. You are welcome, dear elf."
Takulu nods his understanding. "That is just the first question of our interview, and after that, aptitude tests, symbology, and a final question. Then I will show you to your home for the next year, at least - the Spire Dormitory, where you may meet other students like yourselves. But first more questions. Fear not, Initiates, I do not expect deep answers to these queries, as I know some of you may not have deeply considered these matters. But I do expect thoughtfulness. No answers are wrong, no answers are right, it is far more about how you frame responses."
The interview then goes on for another hour or more with a series of questions and answers. Here are the questions Teacher Ot asks the initiates.
"What interests you?
What do you consider your greatest strength?
What work have you done to bolster those in and around the Magaambya before now?
What do you seek at the Magaambya?
Once you have attained that which you seek, what goals do you wish to achieve?
Whenever someone is speaking, Iovia gives that speaker her full attention. When she speaks, her Mwangi shows that she grew up speaking the language, yet there is a formality to how she speaks that may set her apart from some of the other native speakers.
"I am here at the Magaambya to learn of the Expanse, of its peoples, of its traditions. I have lived here, in the Expanse, all my life. Even with that, there is so much I do not know, and I desire to learn. I also wish to help others find their paths, as I have been helped by others to find mine. That is my goal, but I do not think I will ever attain that which I seek, because there is always more to learn."
"I do not feel I can decide what my greatest strength is. I feel that is something others will determine, once they know me more, and based on my actions."
Ikto watches each new introduction with fascination. When Za stands up, Ikto tries not to gape. He has never seen a, what did the being call himself, a Ghoran? Several life times? EXTROADINARY! The Druid has seen Leshy before, but never a Ghoran.
And all the way from Nex? But he has had a hard time of it. Letter lost. Books ruined? Yet he rises to the challenge with pride. That's...commendible. He gives a nod of greeting to Za at his words.
Then it is Nyranda's turn. Of course, she's started with flute music. Ikto sways in his seat to and fro, and delight fills him. A musician, how wonderful.. I wonder if we ... but any ideas of playing together are cut short as Teacher Ot requires answers.
"Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away with the, er, theatrics."
Ikto whispers to her, "It was very nice I think." But he dare say no more as there are more questions to answer though they are assured once more no answers are wrong, and that sets his mood at greater ease.
"What interests you?
What do you consider your greatest strength?
What work have you done to bolster those in and around the Magaambya before now?
What do you seek at the Magaambya?
Once you have attained that which you seek, what goals do you wish to achieve?
He listens when others answer the questions they feel they wish to. They deserve attention and he needs to understand them, particularly the humans. I am here. In a mostly human city to learn what peaceful ties can be found. That will take effort, and understanding
When Ikto decides to answer, he thinks on what he has already answered in his introduction. He mentioned his ties to the weather and the storm already, so lets it be, an he mentioned a history of weaving in his family so need to go over that again he supposed. Instead, he works to answers others, "I am new to the Magaambya so have had little time to assist the people around it, though I did make a friend, an Ammuran who was pushed towards the waters and might have been ground by a mill. I helped him and I am very glad I did." He says this without boast so much as just answering the question, "I have mentioned how I hope to grow already, but I was directed to this place by a Stranger, who sponsored me. A most curious fellow I can barely identify. I would learn more of this stranger when I have the time. It seems they may have done me a great kindness to give me this chance."The question of his greatest strength seems to have flummoxed him, so he doesn't bother with that.
Nyandra takes a breath as Teacher Ot acknowledges her and says what, to her, feels like giving her permission to be theatrical. She takes a moment to look more closely at the assembled students--as Ikto whispers in her ear, she blushes and turns to him, smiling. She resumes her glance and sees several humans, and a... ghoran? he said? That was the name? She deliberately makes herself not stare, though questions flood through her mind with a speed. As her eyes pass Iovia, she pales as recognition dawns. That complexion... I trust Teacher Ot wouldn't admit someone like that here...
She focuses on how others answer the questions to compose herself via distraction. Iovia's native Mwangi puts her at ease, somewhat, and she consoles herself with the idea that maybe her family fled Cheliax. In Nyandra's estimation, Iovia presents solid answers to the questions, and the elf finds herself developing a bit of respect for her.
The story Ikto relates is touching, and she finds herself smiling at it. I would quite like to meet that amurrun.
A period of silence as Ikto finishes speaking. Nyandra decides to present her own thoughts, to get them out of her head so she can focus more readily on what everyone else is saying.
"What interests me? I have many interests! Art and magic and philosophy and history and culture and... Learning about the world around me has long been a passion of mine. I think that may be the part of myself I am most proud of, my capacity and drive to learn. If I may, I would guess that's part of what you saw in me when we spoke originally. I can proudly say that I have brought joy and beauty to this magnificent city in the past, and will again given the chance. What do I seek here? To learn the ways of this great city, of the culture around it, to embrace the traditions of those who have come before. What do I want to do after that? Ah, Teacher, you ask me to predict the future! My trade is firmly rooted in what never was, and in the past; I let others say what may come. But if I had my choice, it would be to bring the caring, supportive ways of Nantambu to the rest of the world, guided by the teachings of magic afforded here."
She takes a breath, realizes she just gave a small speech, and shrinks in her seat.
Listening carefully, Teacher Ot displays not outward emotion during the question and answer session, but nonetheless a warm empathy exudes from the instructor.
"Your reasons for being here, while diverse, are all noble. You will be tested at Magaambya, but holding on to those noble goals is quite important. Whether it be desire for more knowledge, a spirit to aid others, or a dream to make what has never been, all of these things are the motivations that save us from despair when hardships present themselves. Hold and cherish them, and if possible, develop them with your fellow initiates. "
Za Minyahil considers Teacher Ot's questions, folding his arms as a soothing, sweet scent flares off him.
"What interests you?"
"I suppose 'knowledge' would be what I consider my deepest interest. Many of my kind are content to rely on the knowledge they have built over many lifetimes, and it has served us well, but I have come to believe it is not enough, and the ghorans must learn more, learn new things if we are to survive. And I wish to be at the vanguard of that learning. I suppose you may also say that swordplay is another interest, though that is largely borne out of necessity, to protect myself and my fellow ghorans. It, and the rudimentary battle-magic I have already studied, has also served me well on the journey from Nex to Nantambu. If you are asking what I do for 'fun,' I...am uncertain if I have had time to consider it. I have spent most of my eight years of life training and preparing. Perhaps...gardening?"
"What do you consider your greatest strength?"
"Dedication, whether to people or to deeds. I have endured trial after trial to be here, and I foresee many more trials to come. I will not become complacent and shall continue striving. And those in my care need not fear while I stand between them and those that would do them harm. Once, that only meant my fellow ghorans, but as I am the only ghoran here, I must extend that dedication beyond, even to...heh...'the animals,' as some of my kin might call you."
What work have you done to bolster those in and around the Magaambya before now?"
At this question, Za Minyahil makes a rustling noise.
"I...forgive me I have not had much of an...opportunity to do so, as I have only just arrived in Nantambu. I have...tried to not impose much upon those who have granted me hospitality in the days leading to this one, been a gracious guest...It is...hard to read what is expected among your people. We ghorans, among ourselves there is no need to ask or offer, what needs doing is simply done by whoever does it best, almost instinctually, having honed our roles and skills over thousands of years. I had assumed that I would provide you with Nexian magical texts to expand the collective knowledge on offer at the school, but the silverfish, beetles and termites had other ideas. Rest assured that I have every intention of earning my place here, Master Ot, and will readily perform any service deemed necessary."
He punctuates this with a half-bow, clearly agitated and defensive.
What do you seek at the Magaambya?"
"Knowledge and power, but different knowledge and different power than that which can be found in Nex. Had I wished to become a mighty wizard, raining fiery destruction, fleshforging engines of war or constructing floating palaces of greenery, I could have simply remained in Quantium, maybe done a tour of duty in Ecanus, but...there are answers I seek that those paths seemingly cannot...or will not...provide. Even beyond the nation's collective obsession with divining what the great Nex would have wanted them to do, or their paranoid preparations to war with Geb once again, the Nexian way of magic...their idea of it...it has begun to feel hollow and unproductive. Unsuitable for my greater goals. That is why I have sought the Magaambya out. Out of all magical traditions, only Old-Mage Jatembe's is older than Nex's, and if half the things I have heard from the merchants of Kibwe or the Mualijae elves about it are true, it may be the key, able to solve a puzzle even the greatest minds in Nex, both ghoran and...man? Man. Alike, have failed to solve for generations."
"Once you have attained that which you seek, what goals do you wish to achieve?"
At this, Za Minyahil becomes very quiet, as if he is weighing how much of this he feels comfortable telling.
"This is a difficult question to answer, as it involves things that can be...dangerous...for a ghoran to trust others with. Suffice to say, that I plan on using the knowledge and magical skill learned here for the purposes of...healing, and for the betterment of others, not for my own personal gain."
He makes the rustling noise again, seeming to expect disappointment in that answer.
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"Ntuni Anzaga, from the Tovaz Clan." The female dwarf says, with a small bow, her hands behind her back. Her hair is purple with tiny motes of white, her clothes simple and her feet bare and caked with mud thanks to all that rain. She glances again at the magical circle, annoyed. Rain as a blessing.
The others initiates had a lot to talk and share. She wasn't like them, though. She did have knowledge to share, of course, as she did not live beneath a rock and had not been born yesterday, but not right now. She felt she was in a stage and that made her uncomfortable, skittish. The teacher had asked who she was and she answered. That was enough in her mind.
"Yes. No. Twice. Yes, but in honesty, it was a fortunate coincidence. I like the feeling of earth on my feet." She answerers most questions as succinctly as possible, just so she can be done with it.
"My clan believes I'm gifted by Uvuko. I'm not sure about it, and while I respect my elders I wish to learn if this is true. If it is, what I want is meaningless, for I'll do what I'm supposed to. I'm no sage or scholar. I'm no diplomat or artist. I'm a simple Taralu woman who instead of looking at the infinite sky, I look at the dirt between my feet."
Ikto listens to Ntuni's introduction with curiosity. He had heard of the far traveled taralu, peacemakers if rumors were true. He likes her hair color, but then he likes purple too.
It is not hard to see she is nervous, so he listens but tries not to stare. She prefers the Dirt rather than the sky? . Ikto is a Storm druid, so this is truly strange to him.
Meanwhile, Za's answers are perhaps the best way Ikto has to learn of Ghorans, and, of course, Za himself. The fact Za seems to want to use his learning here for a form of healing seems noble.
Teacher Ot also recognizes and respects Ntuni, who is last to speak. "You speak of humility and duty, Initiate Ntuni. These are noble thoughts for one so young. Often those with ability are tempted by greatness and the lure of all it brings. To be grounded at your age should be applauded. Welcome to the Magaambya, where we will indeed see if you have the magical gifts your village sees in you."
To Za Minyahil the teacher says, "You have seen first hand that knowledge and power can be double-edged sword. The beauty is in the use. And as your classmates say, being humble, and knowing your duty are all part of how you keep such power from raging out of control."
After the last questions are answered, Teacher Ot steps closer to the initiates. "The time for questions is over. Now it is time for practical application for I have a few tests of your aptitude as the next part of the interview. Fear not, if your magical aptitude is not up to par or cannot solve the challenge. Creativity and the use of mundane are also acceptable to solve these tests, for there is magic in everyday solutions also. You may choose not to participate in these tests, and that is your privilege and will not be scorned or frowned upon. There is also magic in the use of free will, is there not?"
He pauses making sure you understand, then with a wave of his hand, a white tapered candle appears in his palm. It is unburnt, the wick still pure white. "Can you light this candle without flint or matches?"
He seems to be speaking to the entire group at once, and holds the candle out for anyone to take.
Iovia takes the candle with a trace of a grin on her lips.
She steps back from Teacher Ot and offers a brief prayer to Tlehar and then casts a spell and envelops the wick of the candle in red light.
She then offers the candle back to the teacher. "It does not burn with warmth or flame, but the candle is lit Teacher Ot."
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M'baba takes notes of the others. He does not linger looking at them too much, even those whose kind are not usually seen, such as Za. He is impressed and even a bit humbled by what appears to be far more trained initiates. He realizes that competing won't do much good to him here.
In the end, he thinks to himself "This Ntuni will make a nice friend. She's the only one down to earth. Literally!" He suppresses a chuckle letting out a grin, which, to any onlookers would seem out of place. He doesn't care. He listens to the others reply about their interests and ideals. He finds himself a bit alien among such high achievers. At least Iovia sounds more like him, as well.
He finally feels at ease to speak "What interests me are solutions. When problems arise, I like to see and hear what solutions can be applied, especially if they're not conventional." Satisfied with his answer, he quickly remembers there are other questions. He continues "My greatest strength is maybe... I don't know..." He realizes he didn't think before answering and now has put himself in a tight spot.
He moves on hoping the others will forget his blunder soon "I haven't been to Magaambya before, so I can't really talk about work done in the past. But here I do hope to find what type of things the smartest minds of the world came up with." He goes on quickly and attempts a joke "And look, if we're looking for solutions, magic is a great way to start, right? I mean, it's magic!" He looks around hoping for a reaction, but decides he is not a comedian.
Finally, he answers "After I've learned how smart people think, I... well, I'll just be smart myself, won't I? Maybe I'll know what to do then."
Upon being presented the candle, M'baba thinks "A candle usually lights with some heat." and immediately concludes "the sun!" However, as he looks up, he realizes that it is still raining. For the first time, even, he realizes that he is wearing his rain protecting hood needlessly, since the rain is being stopped by magic. He pulls back his hood revealing a young man's symmetrical face, with flawless skin.
M'baba sees Iovia expertly creating light on the candle and he finds it a bit suspicious, wondering if that's a flame or not. Gladly for him, it is not up to him to approve this candle or not. Since teacher Ot offers the problem to the whole group, M'baba waits to see his reaction, while continuing to think of a possible solution.
He moves on hoping the others will forget his blunder soon "I haven't been to Magaambya before, so I can't really talk about work done in the past. But here I do hope to find what type of things the smartest minds of the world came up with." He goes on quickly and attempts a joke "And look, if we're looking for solutions, magic is a great way to start, right? I mean, it's magic!" He looks around hoping for a reaction, but decides he is not a comedian.
Ikto ponders this, taking it utterly seriously. He decides that the man is right, magic is indeed magic. And gives a very serious silent nod.
---------After the last questions are answered, Teacher Ot steps closer to the initiates. "The time for questions is over. Now it is time for practical application for I have a few tests of your aptitude as the next part of the interview. Fear not, if your magical aptitude is not up to par or cannot solve the challenge. Creativity and the use of mundane are also acceptable to solve these tests, for there is magic in everyday solutions also. You may choose not to participate in these tests, and that is your privilege and will not be scorned or frowned upon. There is also magic in the use of free will, is there not?"
He pauses making sure you understand, then with a wave of his hand, a white tapered candle appears in his palm. It is unburnt, the wick still pure white. "Can you light this candle without flint or matches?"
Ikto, intently curious where this might lead, readies a minor spell to talk to the fire and ask it to come forth, but then sees Iovia already has a solution of her own.
She then offers the candle back to the teacher. "It does not burn with warmth or flame, but the candle is lit Teacher Ot."
A clever answer he fights a smile and admires the faux flame. He sees no reason Teacher Ot would not accept this as it is what he asked for, and provides light as a candle should. The journey has been made, just by a different path than one might expect.
Nyandra takes the candle in her palm, giggling to herself as a joke forms in her mind.
She hums a jaunty tune and the candle slowly lifts into the air, floating with the magic of her spell. "It seems to me that the candle has become light!"
Za Minyahil watches the creative solutions the others come up with for the challenge impassively. He remembered mage instructors back home reprimanding students who couldn't simply create fire by instinct since childhood. Even among his fellow ghorans, there was an unspoken assumption that their long, repeating lives had shown them the most efficient path to whatever skill they would master in this life. To look for alternative solutions, interpreting the requests in new and different ways, these were the marks of unserious dilettantes, dabblers looking to coast through life in Nex, but here it was the first solution sought out, and given what he'd seen of Teacher Ot so far, likely what he was expecting.
He waits for the others to finish their answers to the test before taking it himself. He wondered if his solution would be considered disappointingly blunt by the standards of the test.
Ntuni facepalms as Nyandra makes the candle float. "When people speak about creative solutions, the creativity part is certainly welcome, but the solution part is pretty mandatory."
As far as Ntuni knows, Iovia had already passed the test. Anything extra was either wasteful or detrimental. Less is more, as her grandmother says.
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Teacher Ot actually smiles at Iovia's solution and Nyandra's attempt to play on words. "These are creative solutions and a good lesson that words have meaning, and to avoid confusion, we should choose our words perhaps more carefully than your poor Teacher did. Indeed the candle is lit, and is light, but it is not yet burning, which is the actual request. Please see if you can accommodate me. No shame if you cannot yet, such things will come in time."
When Za Minyahil speaks a simple cantrip and sends flame from his fingers to the wick, the candle catches immediately, earning the approval of Ot.
"Well done, Za Minyahil. The learning of generations proves to be an advantage in the first test, but here is the second..."
He makes a cooing sound, and a blue peacock-like bird appears before him, summoned from some other place. It seems tame enough to stand near the group, watching curiously. "Can you get a feather from this bird without plucking one?" he asks with a slight nod and hand motion indicating the group may work together on such a task if they wish.
Iovia nodded to the teacher's words, and then the second test was given.
She purses her lips, thinks for a moment, and then speaks. "Part of wisdom and learning is knowing when to lead and when to follow. Mr. Banashee, you said that you are a druid. How do you suggest we accomplish this task?"
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For a moment, Ikto observes the candle, now with wick truly burning. Fire is a useful friend, and a dangerous enemy; to be respected. He makes a mental note that he is not the only one here able to coax it forward.
Then...
He makes a cooing sound, and a blue peacock-like bird appears before him, summoned from some other place. It seems tame enough to stand near the group, watching curiously. "Can you get a feather from this bird without plucking one?" he asks with a slight nod and hand motion indicating the group may work together on such a task if they wish.
Ikto's face breaks into a broad grin at the appearance of such a lovely creature, "Well well, what a lovely fellow."
Iovia nodded to the teacher's words, and then the second test was given.
She purses her lips, thinks for a moment, and then speaks. "Part of wisdom and learning is knowing when to lead and when to follow. Mr. Banashee, you said that you are a druid. How do you suggest we accomplish this task?"
Ikto nods "Getting a feather from a bird can be quite easy... you wait. Be it hours, or days, or even a season, eventually old ones are discarded as new arise. But as we may not have the time to turn the seasons, I'll have to ask him to show me a little charity and join me in the fun."
Not getting too close at first, while still standing, Ikto spreads his arms and speaks to the bird "Hello, Proud one. If you have a feather that is loose, and you are not offended, I would ask you dance it free so I may show it to Teacher Ot." As he does this, Ikto's feet shuffle, his hips sway but he is careful not to rush or press the bird. His arms begin to move, as he dances to try to encourage the bird to do like wise, "Shake your tail feathers, and gift us with one."
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M'baba likes that teacher Ot accepted the burning candle and grinned as he admitted an error. Then, he presents another challenge. As the others discuss strategy which turns out to talk to the bird, the young man studies it, trying to remember everything he knows about it. He was never fond of studying natural beings, but understands it might come in handy, like now!
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Za Minyahil nods as he returns the candle to Teacher Ot. He hadn't managed that kind of control of fire in a while. Battle magic had very little use for such tight, precise applications, and usually all that was needed was force and direction.
He watches as the bird is introduced, and nods at Iovia's assessment.
"Each of us has skills suited for different uses, and I agree Ikto's are the best for this. It will be a long time before I am able to speak to all animals, not just those who walk upright, but it is something I hope to learn here. There are few druids in Nex. Nearly all concern themselves with the land's magical pollution. But fewer still are those wishing to learn from them. Almost anyone with any magical aptitude pursues the arcane instead. Greater glory to be earned. They forget that the natural world can have a glory of its own, much like this bird."
Nyandra listens to Ntuni's criticism, acknowledges is with a shrug. Well. At least I'm engaging in the activities Teacher Ot is presenting. She tries to make her frustration invisible with a smile.
She watches as the assembled students try to coax a feather from the bird. "I agree with Iovia and Za Minyahil--Ikto's expertise is best suited to this task. While the proud may stumble forward, unable to see the folly of their ignorance, the humble know when to admit something is beyond them. Here I so admit." Her features faded to neutral, even solemn, while delivering these words.
As the others defer to the druid, Ikto begins a funny looking dance, while making eye contact with the beautiful bird. Using a soft voice and gentle movements, the new initiate coaxes the bird into a similar dance. As the peacock bird begins to sway, a large beautiful tail feather drops slowly to the ground.
Teacher Ot claps his hands in encouragement. "Well done, Ikto, and well done to those who recognize it may take the talents of others to overcome obstacles. We all have our own gifts to give and deficits to seek help with. I applaud you for knowing your limits."
He clears his throat and makes another motion, dispelling the peacock back to where ever it came from before. Only a feather or two remains to say it was ever there.
From a small bag at his waist, Takulu withdraws a small serpent with a distinctive scale pattern that looks like mirror-image hourglasses. "This is a harmless Garundi shovel-snout. But it has secrets. Look closely, hold it if you wish, but the test is: can you get a secret from this snake?"
Ntuni nods discreetly to the elf's words of wisdom. Yet, here was the thing, no humble person would call themselves "humble", because doing so wasn't a humble thing to do.
With a step forward, Ntuni extend her hands. "With your permission, Teacher Ot."
Iovia has come across some snakes before, but the ones she knows uses for are venomous ones.
Instead of leaning in that direction, she quietly studies the snake as others hold it, trying to see if she notices anything about it that would give her insight into what might make it special.
Ikto swoops up the feather, and says to the dancing bird, "Many thanks, handsome fellow."
Teacher Ot claps his hands in encouragement. "Well done, Ikto, and well done to those who recognize it may take the talents of others to overcome obstacles. We all have our own gifts to give and deficits to seek help with. I applaud you for knowing your limits."
"The fine bird did the work, but I thank my fellow students for their trust in my abilities. And this fine bird for his lovely dance and charity."
From a small bag at his waist, Takulu withdraws a small serpent with a distinctive scale pattern that looks like mirror-image hourglasses. "This is a harmless Garundi shovel-snout. But it has secrets. Look closely, hold it if you wish, but the test is: can you get a secret from this snake?"
He follows Ntuni's lead, and while the good dwarf takes the snake in hand, and others take a look, Ikto looks to the health of the snake
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Although M'baba is a bit disappointed that he couldn't explore more options with the bird, he's glad to know someone who actually communicated with it. It makes him think there is room for many types of solution in the school.
Upon looking at the snake, when he has a turn with it, he focuses on the hourglasses-like markings. They make him a bit dizzy and makes him think of magic could deal with time. He tries holding it for a longer time and tries remembering what he remembers of time magic.
Za Minyahil's brow-petals furrow as he observes the snake, letting it coil and twine around his fingers. A serpent, much like a secret, could be many things. A simple animal, yes, but also a symbol. Of betrayal, wisdom, renewal, the sun, eternity, even of secrets themselves.
He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the smooth scales moving as the curious animal investigates the strange branch it has found itself on, while he thinks through the esoteric implications attached to it.
Nyandra watches with rapt attention as everyone studies the snake, interacts with it, and otherwise giving it their full attention. She has a smile on her face the entire time, as the displays of knowledge speak to her from all the different angles. She focuses her own attention on how this specific kind of snake may play a role in the culture of the great city she finds herself in. The specific question she searches her mind to answer: why did Teacher Ot summon this specific kind of snake? Surely it must have a meaning!
Teacher Ot accepts the snake back from Nyandra and returns it to the pouch at his belt sash. "Well?" he asks cocking an eyebrow at the group. "What secrets did my friend impart to young initates?"
"It has a stinger under it's tail." The quiet dwarf shares. "This could be just a defense, or perhaps it is just pretending to be harmless."
"I also noticed the stinger. I would think it would be a defensive mechanism for delivering poison, like the fangs of some snakes. I've never seen anything like that before." Iovia remarks, with a curious tone in her voice.
Rather disappointed that her extensive knowledge of the Nantambu stories surrounding snakes and related creatures wasn't able to place this particular specimen, Nyandra still tries to turn that lack of notability into something useful. "It's never mentioned in any of the stories I can remember. You'd think it's nothing special, save for what the others have noticed--that, in itself, is notable in a way. If I may peek behind the proverbial curtain, is that why you chose this particular snake? Those trained to look beneath the surface will find danger."
Ikto blinks in surprise as he examines the snake, and when the others have given their findings, he adds, "I did not see it at first, but this serpent is blind in the left eye. Other than that, it seems in good health." He himself did not notice the stinger and looks impressed by Ntuni and Iovia's findings.