Sharkdude5: Thank you!
Artyom: I'm glad you're excited.
Tippi roll: Colbert playing with tech is kind of a given. And for your second, well, as a Warlock, natural animals tend to avoid Mar anyway, and adding in a magical element to that likely doesn't help matters. And for the last, well, that would be spoilers, but I do have plenty of ideas on how to take Fouquet's character.
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New Class: Defense Against Demons
The Defense Against Demons course is a new, optional course, available to all students who are willing to learn proper defensive techniques against Legion forces. This class is divided into the two parts. Theory, and practice, the first must be passed to take the second. Books will be provided to everyone who enroll.
Are you prepared?
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"I have to admit, the 'Are you prepared?' was a nice touch," Kithkiris grinned. Marlexana nodded. Sure, she ripped off Illidan's particle catchphrase, but this was simple too good to pass up. All too fitting for such an advertisement, alongside the red ink. She had managed to find a printer for this little project, though she had some desire to do the new grimoire herself, it would be impossible to do alone.
Demonology, a Beginners Defense Primar was a joint affair, taken up with a few printers at the capital willing to work with her. Heck, she'd even purchased an anti-magic sword she saw in a bin. Call it private research, but she wondered if she could replicate the enchantment, but so far, it had proven a waste.
"I also heard that they are planning to have a Azerothian History class," Kithkiris grinned, preparing to check back up on her patient, "I wonder who they are going to hire?" There were plenty of scribes and lorekeepers between the Horde and Alliance to chose from, but something told her they didn't want that.
"Lorewalker Cho," Marlexana said. What? The pandaren had a reputation and was a complete historical know it all. Pandaria becoming open the world merely gave Cho more material to learn.
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Guchie frowned at the poster that had been appearing around the school. Many had scoffed at it's presence and many students were being pulled back home or simply elsewhere. This was due to the elf, he was sure. That meant she was likely the teacher of this new class. Yes, she, he was aware of that much. He had a tendency to avoid her, and the floating skull of hers. Not exactly a good first impression.
Still, the headmaster had hired her, which meant he thought she was a good fit for the job. And his father hadn't removed him from the academy yet. Did he not think Osmund had done so, or did he think that hiring this elf was a tactically intelligent move? Guchie was a General's son, after all. His father had told him knowledge was at times, the ultimate weapon. If the Legion was truly a threat, then the knowledge to defend oneself and loved ones would prove useful.
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"So that's why she arrived early," Kirche said to herself, looking up at the poster. A single tack held it in place, allowing it to flutter in the wind. While the name of the class left a lot to be desired, it sounded very practical. It simply spoke of how much the Legion was feared, for such a class to be viewed as necessary. Thought there was certainly going to be a lot of backlash over permitting an elf to teach at the Academy.
Kirche wasn't blind to that. Just a few short weeks ago, everyone would be calling him a heretic, and certainly would have no problems with the man being burned or hanged. However many of Azeroth's races had become exempt of many of the rules or traits that defined their Halkgenian counterparts. Even the Light, a large beleif system shared by multiple members of both factions, despite each having it's own form of reverence, while heretical, seeing that humans of Azeroth where descent from a non-human race, also got a pass.
She wasn't exactly sure how they managed to agree on religion. As she understood it, The Church wouldn't send missionaries to Azeroth, while Azeroth's own religious organizations would also not send missionaries into Halkeginia. This was something the gnome priestess understood, it seemed. She hadn't really shown off her blessings, and only talked about the Light when asked.
Kirche was unsure how to feel about Louise's new caretaker. She was serisou about her patentant, but also about them spending too much time at Louise's bedsde. And being levitated out of a room by someone shorter than Louise as that crystal staff of hers hummed. How did crystal hum?
Kirche shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Honestly, it would propably be in her best interests to join. As one of the few Germanian mages at the Academy of Magic, she could send what she learned home. It might not be much, but it would be better than nothing.
"I'm thinking about joining. What about you?" Kirche asked, earning a nod from the bluenette. Even though she had reasons of her own.
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Montmorency ,known by a few as Mon-Mon, sighed at the new poster hanging on the notice board. The hideous red coloring was used to simply make it stick out more, as if offering a class almost a month after the familiar summoning ritual wasn't enough. This had something to do with the elf she had seen walking around, she just knew it.
She would have written a letter to her father to have her removed at once the first time, but Montmorency new pulling her out of the academy was an expense her family simply couldn't afford. Private tutors cost a great deal of money. Money her family simply didn't have at the moment. Not only that Azeroth's arrival, more specifically, shamans and druids, were likely to have an impact on what her family's trade. Negotiations would have to go poorly for that not to happen, and they likely chose Tristan, the smallest of the Brimiric nations for some insidious purpose.
Still, she was aware her boyfriend was likely to sign up, and that the attack on Romania by Legion forces could repeat itself, anywhere else in Halkeginia. And, well, if she just so happened that the teacher wasn't as sincere as people thought she was, then Montmorency would be able to report it to the proper authorities.
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For the first time in under a month, Louise's body groaned in shorness. Her eyes finally flickered open, before closing them a light rushed in, causing her to hiss in pain.
"You're awake! This is good news indeed!" a voice said to her left. She couldn't recognize who it was. Risking it, she opened her eyes again, with her vision being taken up by an unknown face. Pink hair, pink eyes, just like her own, alongside a face that made whoever this was look like a child. Even younger than her, if she had to make a guess.
It took a few moments for Louise to realize that she wasn't in her own bed, but rather, the one in the infirmary. That simple thought caused her to lurch forward, before clutching her head. A throbbing pain coursed through her skull like wildfire. She tried thinking back as far as she could. Louise remembered the ritual, and then the pain. It felt like something had been ripped from her body, torn from her chest as if her organs had been savagely extracted.
"You need to rest, child. You've nearly been out for a month," the pinkette spoke, trying to keep Louise from rising any further. The news shocked her, reverberating through Louise's mind. She had been unconscious? For a whole month? This only made her struggle more, swinging her legs to the right side of the bed, before attempting to stand.
Louise's legs hadn't been used during that month, and they gave way swiftly, nearly falling face first, if it wasn't for the swift actions of her caretaker. Louise's nose was less than a centimeter from the ground, but her body was suspended in the air. It was now she finally got a good look at her healer.
She was tiny, smaller than Louise herself by a considerable margin. She wore pale white robes with gold threads running along it's surface, long and flowing. The staff her hand seemed to hum with light, as if singing, it's blue crystalian head glowing faintly.
"You're short" Louise said, before slapping her hand over her mouth. That was not something she should have said.
"I'm actually within the standard height deviation for my kind. You on the other hand, are quite limited for your age," Louise received a slight grin, despite the fact she had just insulted the small women. She was still chuckling, her voice light and pleasant to Louise's ears.
"What do you mean, your kind?" Louise asked. Even the voice's charm hadn't let that escape. What had happened during her near month of rest?
"I am a Gnome. You must realize, there has been a great amount of change since you fell into slumber," the individual, know identified as a gnome, whatever that was, reached for Louise's bedside table. They were news bulletins, and plenty of them, and she spotted a book or two among the massive stack as well. The top few were fairly standard, involving damage caused by an earthquake that happened after the ritual. Two weeks of fairly bland things, and a few mentionings of coastal raiders along Rominia's shoreline, but nothing major.
Then the big stuff hit, and it hit hard. The coastal raids and slaughters were beings known as Kvaldir, beings with souls infused with dark power, placed into physical forms. Things only became stranger from there on out. This Alliance, this Horde, that the papers spoke of. The Legion's assault on the Holy Capital.
Everything was complete and utter chaos. What exactly had transpired while she was asleep? It was simply, just, mind boggling. Even without her throbbing headache, she would have problems wrapping her head around this.
"Kithkiris, it's lunch time. Do you want me to grab you something?" an unknown voice asked from the hallway. Glowing green eyes, long red hair, and a pair of long, knife like ears. Louise's eyes widened in absolute fear, as Kithkiris waved her hands signaling that the blood elf made an error. Louise's fingers twitched around her wand, which had somehow been placed in her bedside.
"Fireball!" BOOM!
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Marlexana was far from impressed at first. The spell itself was clearly, no fireball at all, but rather, so form of pressurized energy. She let it impact her demon armor spell, a defensive spell that Warlocks used, capable of absorbing punishment from both spell and blade. In a world were spellcasters tended to wear cloth, the ability to stop one from being cleaved apart by just a random person with an axe was perfect.
It detonated, exploding with enough force to cause most to step back. Marlexana remained unmoved, when as Kithkiris removed Louise's wand from her hand, horror showing on her face.
"Mar, are you alright?" panic filled her voice, only to get a chuckle of response.
"Of course I am. It would take a lot more than that to get through…" Marlexana paused. Something wasn't quite right. Her demon armor was gone. No, that wasn't quite right. It hadn't been broken. It had been turned off. A quick magical check to the rest of her gear revealed that everything remained in working order.
"I'm fine," Marlexana stated, realizing Kithkiris was looking up at her due to her pause. She turned her head to face the girl. She had seen Louise's unconscious form more than once, and the look of fear on her face presently felt wrong. She brought her eyes down to the much longer girl's level.
"Relax, I'm not mad. If nothing else, I'm impressed. Even if you didn't intend to, being able to despell my defensive magic is no small feat. I'll hope to see you in class, young one," Marlexana smiled slightly, while Louise's face was now showing more shock than anything else. "And Kithkiris, I'll be bringing in some food. You patiant just got up, and she hasn't had anything solid in months. Celebrate a little!"
"What?" was Louise's only response. She just hit an elf, in the face with one of her explosions, and it's only reaction was to tell her she hoped to see her in class?
"You may want to prepare yourself. This is going to take a while," the now identified Kithkiris groaned, rubbing her hand against her nose. For the first time since her arrival, the almost trademark grin on her face had vanished.
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Louise's brain was on the edge of exploding. All this, this. Well, honestly, it really couldn't be called hersey if the church approved of it all, but still, she found it all to be a stretch. She had asked Kithkiris, who was, despite being a heretic in every sense of the word, was far too caring and compassionate, to leave. She didn't need to do the things she had, but she did them anyway.
But that wasn't the heretic part. Louise simply wanted time to think. By all rights, she had failed the familiar summoning ritual. She wasn't a mage. The ritual confirmed that. Then why was this elf impressed! Kithkiris had explained exactly who the elf was.
Sister to the blood elf Regent Lord. Netherlord of the Council of the Black Harvest. Demon Breaker. Summoner of Hounds. Those titles, and worse, were names she was known by. Ancient among humans, but young amongst elves, and yet, she held on to this honor.
So, why was she impressed? Because she removed some obscure defensive spell. That meant nothing in the long run, It wouldn't help her succeed, some odd coincidence wouldn't allow her to stay. Louise''s stubbornness brought enough shame on her family. She was a bit surprised her parents hadn't already pulled her out of school already. Louise let out a sigh. At the very least, she should catch up on all the world shattering events she missed.
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Marlexana was locked in deep thought. Louise's little magic stunt had shaken her greatly. She would need to run more tests, but she would bet a large sum of gold that the blade she had bought was enchanted with similar magic. A twinge of fear filled her spine, as she recalled Azeroth's summoning. Marlexana would need to go over Thal'kiel's memories again, but she sworn the magical aura was at the very least similar.
Much to her surprise, she found the door to her chambers open. Strange. She knew she had closed the door before she left, and locked it too. However, she had little to fear from thieves, so she stepped through, only to see two men manhandling the Specter of Sargeras. Dismissing Thal'kiel, she called the weapon to her hand. The moment the staff touched the palm of her hand, her eyes blazed with fel might, as fel fire increased drastically in power.
Marlexana tapped the ground, causing to blazing rings of green flame to erupt from the ground.
"I will only ask once. Who are you, what are you doing here, and what made you think messing around with a weapon that can destroy entire worlds was a good idea?" she glared at the two, flames flickering around her form. Both men were stammering, either out of fear, or to stall for time. Regardless of which, it didn't stop her from noticing the commotion in the courtyard.
This was why Marlexana was happy for her first floor statis. Chaotic bindings encircled the two men, as she opened the window into the brisk spring air.
"Let me go!" a voice demanded. Siesta! Marlexana was already on the move closing the distance rather quickly. What she saw was disturbing. Siesta was in her normal clothing, but she was being dragged around by some rich man, easily old enough to be her father.
Marlexana's rage was palpable, causing multiple looks to turn her way. The fat man leapt back as she increased the heat were his arm was. Siesta stumbled backwards, as green flame erupted between the two, flickering and dancing until Marlexana herself was able to move between the two. Her eyes were narrow, brightened by her anger.
"Do you know who I am?" the man snapped, sneering upward in a poor attempt at intimidating her. The white frill around his neck, along with his red fancy suit and brown mustache that just screamed danger to children, he only looked ridiculous.
"No, but I know what you are. You are a thief," Marlexana flickered her staff forward, sending the two she had caught sneaking her room behind the man. "A kidnapper, possibly a rapist, and a bully."
"You are filth of the lowest kind. And before you try to do something you'll regret, you should know that I was called here for an upcoming diplomatic season between Tristain, the Horde, and the Alliance," She continued, glaring down at the man as fel fire flickered around her. "You are a minor noble at best, easily replaceable by someone else far more deserving of a title, one who would not abuse their power. And you probably will, because I think I can speak for both the Warchief and the High King that they would not approve of your actions."
At this point, the man was fuming, rage turning beyond the point speaking. Yeah, maybe she had gone a tad overkill, but the pitiful man deserved it. If this was how he was willing to treat a person who had no power, then he didn't deserve the blessing he had been given.
"I challenge you to a duel!" the man shouted. "I will not be slandered by a knifed eared fool!" Silence filled the air. Yeah, maybe she did deserve that one, but that didn't stop her from nearly blasting the human where he stood.
"Very well. Step back, children," Marlexana ordered, flames already flickering around her. She merely chuckled to herself. This man had no idea how far out of his league he was.
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"Another letter of disapproval, and threatening to remove their student from the school," Longueville sighed, using her wand to shift through the massive stack of letters on her desk.
"Put it in the pile," Osmund said, taking a smoke from his pipe. Normally, Longueville would snatch the object away from the old man, but she was simply to busy. Osmund was as well, furiously pinning letters to enraged noblemen and women. This had become a larger problem than he originally anticipated.
"General Gramont supports the measure wholeheartedly, it seems," she said, shifting the letter into one of the much smaller piles. A high ranking general may sway same, but it wouldn't change the minds of many, especially without the crowns blessing. "And the Valliere family as well, though it seems Lady Valliere would like to meet the Netherlord before saying anything on the matter."
Osmund shuttered at the thought. Karin was dangerous enough of a mage as it stood. Things would either go quite well between the two powerful women, or terribly, terribly wrong. A bright flash of green shined through the window.
"It seems that the Netherlord has meet Count Mott. Do you want me to stop their little spat, or putting that commoner under her command part of your plan?" Longueville raised an eyebrow, questioning whatever he was up to. She personally detested the Count, and was more than aware of the repeated attempts to take one of their servants off their hands. Most likely to be their mistress, whether the poor girl liked it or not. The royal messenger was as such, not well liked by many at the Academy, but he had influence, and likely would prevent news of his desires from spreading.
Osmund merely grinned beneath his beard. There was a reason that he hired Longueville, beyond her appearance. The former noble was smart, she could figure it out. He had gained quite an appreciation for commoners, those without magic, over his long years of life. Nobody deserved being turned into toy, like Count Mott seemed to want. But seeing as Mott was the royal messenger, Osmund wouldn't be surprised if he would destroy any letter calling for his removal.
However, placing her in the Netherlord's service accomplished quite a few things. Simply by moving her contract, Mott would have to go through Marlexana. Seeing how that was going, well, it was for the best. Mott would lose, would have to shut up, and he would still likely get in trouble anyway, with Marlexana likely saying something to her superiors in the Horde. Which would be passed on to either Cardinal Mazarin or Princess Henrietta. Neither would take kindly to such actions.
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Roiling water meet blazing flame, blue liquid meeting green fire in a shower of steam. Mott's wand swung erratically, whips of water and spears of ice launched at every angle. Marlexana's staff twitched lightly, fire erupting to block each incoming attack. The area around them was crowded with students, entrapped by the display before them, what appeared to many of them a contest of equal skill.
Guiche knew better. His father was a square class mage. Not only had he seen better, he had seen real close duels between opponents of equal skill. He had also seen games where one played with their foes like a cat playing with a mouse. Mott was out of his weight class, and it showed. While both combatants spells were indeed mighty, his future teacher was hardly putting much effort behind her strikes.
Three icicles slammed into the elves chest, but were stopped by an unknown force before they could puncture her robes. Three jade fireballs shot out from her palm, only for them to be devoured by a whip of water. Guchie could tell what the statement was. Not only were the only blows Mott could land were the ones she allowed, even if she did let something slip past, he simply couldn't hurt her.
Tabitha's eyes were firmly locked on the duel in front of her, rather than on the book in her hands. Mar's guard wasn't just simply good, it was vastly superior. It helped to have a spell of unknown origin able to block incoming attacks. Then again, every spell the warlock cast was unknown, though she had no doubt that some of her peers thought otherwise, merely as just oddly colored fire. Victory was without question, but she watched anyway. Knowledge, after all, was a dangerous weapon.
Kirche watched as the fight began to unfold. Each attack Mar made felt strange, almost wrong in it's nature. Fire magic at lhe end of the day, still relied on fire. Whatever she was using, it didn't feel like fire magic. It looked the part, with it's crackling and sparking, but it was like a disguise, hiding its real nature. Even worse was that she appeared to be constantly holding back. Just what type of monster had the school hired?
Montmorency's mouth was agap in shock. Mott was merely a lower triangle at best, but the elf was matching him without hardly any effort. Despite being a master of flames, at least for this engagement, she was hardly putting any effort into her spells. A stark contrast to the Count's furious waving of his wand. Regardless, the power behind each clash was immense, as if two titan's were vying for supremacy. All this, over a servant girl.
Marlexana countered another jet of water with a blast of fire. One would think after letting that attack through her guard, and letting him see exactly how little he accomplished. The hits barely registered on her demon armor, and he was seriously continuing? It was past time to end staff twirled, it's tip impacting the ground as she channeled raw felfire over the ground Mott tried to dodge the direct strike, only to end up surrounded by a ring of fire.
Mott attempted to dose the newly ignited blaze, only to be struck by own of the most dangerous of a warlock's spells. Fear. While this spell was known for it's inability to inflict direct damage, it was also known for showing it's target visions so horrifying they ran around in a panic. That's what the ring of flame was for, seeing as the spell left its victims survival instincts intact. It would be for the best, for all of them, if he didn't manage to run off. Even if she was pulling her punches, Chaos Bolt tended to have quite the impact. Dark green energy bubbled upwards, surging over Mar's feet. One hand raised to the heavens, as the frothing at her feet continued, the air warped, twisting and darkening. A fel green shifted, transforming into a skull. It was dragonesic, complete with frills and fangs. Lowering her hand, the spell arced forth, crashing into Mott with enough force to snap him out of his vision, and bringing him to his knees.
Chaos bolt, for all it's raw power, took plenty of time to cast, leaving her quite vulnerable. In a one on one fight, fear was enough to ensure that she could be able to get the cast off without issue. Mott's rasps echoed throughout the courtyard.
"What are you? What type of magic is that?" Mott was clearly in pain, but it wasn't life threatening, either. He would life, quite easily in fact. His pride? Well, that was likely a different story entirely.
"I'm a Netherlord of Council of the Black Harvest, simply put," Marlexana said, voice stern, still borderlining on harsh. "And for it's type? It's fel. Unknown to this world. Chaos, put in the most basic to understand sense."
"Now, if I see anything like what I've witnessed here today, I will inform the Warchief of this incident. And I don't think you want me to do that," Mar's voice was cold, some flames sparking back to life. "Now, please leave. I have some things I wish to accomplish, especially since two idiots thought that messing around with things labeled 'do not touch on pain of death or even worse', wasn't enough of a warning!"
There was a split devolved that day at the academy. One that thought Marlexana was going to have the coolest class ever, and one that thought she was way too powerful to be teaching classes.
That, and you shouldn't touch magical relics of immense power without knowing how to properly care for. Especially those used by an individual old enough to your own grandparents tells you too.
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That's the end of that! Sorry this took so long, but some of you may have noticed I added a new story to my rotation. Louise is finally awake, repercussions have begun to accrue for hiring an elf, of all things, and we see a few of the people planning on taking Marlexana's class.
I really hope you all enjoyed, and I hope you have a happy Hallow's End!