Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything, except OC's or anything else unrecognizable, belongs to whoever really owns it. Though I am too lazy to point out who those people are, they know who they are.
Chapter 3
Welcoming
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Now follow me as we stride towards one of the first few buildings that mark the boundaries of the campus from the rest of the school property. This large four-sided building is Pimlico's Square where various classes of the Faculty of Forestry and Faculty of Worship are held. You'll notice as we pass underneath the archway that this four story complex shaped into a perfect square and the garden we see before us is known as Pimlico's Green. Housed within its center is the perfect spot for contemplation and prayer amongst the Lilac Ferns and Silk Willows.
The gentle sloping hill covered in clovers and the rows of maple trees that bed beside the artificial pond teeming with rainbow fish are a tranquil harmony perfectly set within the openness of the square. The carvings and statues that decorate the building proper were crafted by architects who've been paid after the generous donation of the Pimlico family… well okay, actually, technically the generously liberated donation of the Pimlico family.
The story goes that after completing a quest for the Pimlico's, the family refused full payment owed to the adventurer's who returned to them bloody, battered and missing two party members. The family figured that since two were dead, there really wouldn't be any point in paying them their share. Dead people cannot spend anything, right? Of course these were the wrong adventurers to try to con, so quite calmly the leader beheaded everyone on the estate, including the pet fairy dragon, took their share plus a little extra for compensation, and burned down the home. Then they took the liberty of celebrating with the wine collection.
Unfortunately, unbeknownst to the adventurer's, the Pimlico's had a guardian lich who at that time was just returning from a union meeting. Not much is known what the meeting was about, something involving crosswalks and cornbread, but whatever it was the lich came back in a very bad mood. So when he saw the burned remains of the family he was contracted to protect and the adventurer's who did the deed lying around passed-out drunk… well, he vented his anger in an extreme way. Needless to say, afterwards there really wasn't much left to identify the adventurer's. So with the family dead and the adventurer's dead, the lich did the only sensible thing. He gathered up the treasure and left.
Now, the story goes on that if the lich hadn't been in such a bad mood, he would have taken the time to sort through the treasure and he would have noticed one particular ruby that he should have left behind. It was the Cursed Bauble of Bubbles. That's right, THE Cursed Bauble of Bubbles. Within one day, the lich had developed gas for life, a fate some would consider worse than death. But the lich was already dead anyways so quite frankly its displeasure was made known to the local village it had decimated and turned into his very own private army of undead… who also acquired the curse of constant flatulence.
Well, before this plague of undead gas poppers could spread across the realms, fate would intervene in the form of a royal jester, a young noble woman with a lisp, twin dwarf-sized brother and sister halflings, three bottles of ale and a badger…
…
You know, now that I think about it, I can't really recall how any of those things managed to stop the lich, the story goes on for quite some time… I'm not even sure if Pimlico's Square is named after the same Pimlico's of the tale…
Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is that for those of you interested in either Forestry or Worship, this beautiful spot is one area you'll be very well acquainted with…
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"Is it possible… even perhaps a minuscule of a chance… that you'll attend at least one class without pursuing a girl?"
"Then what," Yoshimo replied, "would be the point of going to class?"
The two were leaving the classroom after a rather trying time on Valygar's behalf, the odd number of students leaving him with a merciless instructor for a sparring partner. As if playing along with what the fates have allotted each of them, Yoshimo was partnered with a rather ditzy blonde lightfoot halfling who enjoyed the close proximity of the Kara-Turan's proffered assistance.
Whereas Valygar tried to concentrate on his katana swing, Yoshimo was focussing on swinging something else. All in all, the tutorial had ended with the stalker nicking his finger on the blade and the bounty hunter on his way to nicking more knickers.
"How about learning something? You should try it sometime, I hear it does wonders for the mind."
"Ah, but I have been learning."
Valygar glanced at the Kara-Turan, "I don't want to ask. I couldn't ask. I shouldn't ask… hn, alright, I'm going to ask, what have you been learning?"
"My friend, the lessons I have learned are always beneficial to my experience. First, I learn their names. Then I learn their basic fundamentals such as what they like and dislike, then I learn the little details about each of them, for example one may bite her nails when nervous or she tends to lightly gargle her wine-"
"Gargle her wine?"
"-That one was a most interesting date, I'll tell you about it some other time... Ahem, as I was saying, then I learn what little pleasures I can offer them in order to advance to the next stage of knowledge."
Sigh. "And what would that be?"
"I learn the colour of her panties."
"…"
"If it interests you I can tell you that on special occasions, Harrah likes to wear satin black th-"
"Don't finish that sentence."
"…"
"… Harrah? Our teaching assistant in katana combat, Harrah?"
"A most passionate woman despite the indifference she puts on in front of the class."
"I was wondering how you passed last year. You barely attended class!"
Yoshimo put on an affronted face, "I assure you, the fact that I passed was entirely based on my skill with the blade, and not the favour of the woman I happened to be seeing-"
"Boinking."
"Ahem, loving unconditionally, at the time."
"You are a true romantic…"
"All women are fragile petals that-"
"When did you dump her?"
"-Just before the year ended for summer vacation."
Valygar groaned as realization struck, "Is that why she was so intent on separating my head from the rest of my body in class today? Because I unfortunately happened to be your friend?"
Silence.
Out of the corner of his eye the ranger student noticed the slight faltering of the grin on his friend's face. He did not like the pregnant pause and whirled around to face the Kara-Turan.
"That's the only reason, right, Yoshimo? Once she finally gets her hands on you, none of that anger will be directed towards me any longer, right? Right?" Valygar growled near the end.
A grim look settled on the Kara-Turan's normally jovial attitude and the ranger student knew something was indeed very wrong. "I'm sorry, my friend…"
Valygar held his breath in, preparing himself to be very, very, very cross with Yoshimo.
"… But Harrah was most persistent in keeping our relationship and she only relented in her pursuit after I told her I had fallen for somebody else… you."
The ranger student's justifiable anger was momentarily blindsided by horrified shock, "WHAT!? YOUR'RE IN LOVE WITH ME!?"
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The distraught cry brought Edwin's attention to focus on the two young men arguing along the path he was walking along, eyeing the dark-skinned one with passing interest.
Well, who wouldn't be in love with him? Proportionate facial features offering a fine chiselled profile, body mass that is neither barbarously thick nor pathetically thin, immaculate clothing obviously denoting a well bred background, and oh, by a dragon's scrotum, that skin is so seductively exotic and his muscles are deliciously toned as a gods-… wait… what?
Fairly alarmed by his train of thought Edwin hastily shoved his way through the crowd.
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A few passing students paused to look at the two.
Yoshimo scoffed, "Of course not, Valygar, I assure you that while you are indeed a handsome fellow, my desires still run towards the female race. I just told her we were sleeping together."
That was not the answer he wanted to hear, "Now we're sleeping together!?"
"That's not normally something you just realize, sweetie!" someone called out.
The Kara-Turan chuckled a little nervously, "Do keep your voice down, my friend. I don't wish the rumour to spread anymore than necessary."
Valygar finally noticed the crowd that had gathered around them listening in on their non-existent sexual relationship. Much to his ire, he saw that a few stares were more than just curiosity.
"Oi! All of you clear out, this is none of your business!" then he snarled particularly towards a male elf who was looking at him with far too much interest, "You! Go away!"
Ignoring the elf who huffed away muttering "Your loss!" Valygar spun back towards Yoshimo who was too busy appreciating the immaculate cut of his leather tunic. The ranger student closed his eyes to control his anger. Already he could feel the repercussions of his friend's thoughtless excuse that would find him and fuel many great headaches.
"What would possess you to do such a thing? You always do this! I'm not like that!"
"Oh, fear not, I know you aren't. Though as for others…"
Valygar looked up sharply, "As for others what?"
Yoshimo rushed his sentences, "After all, you must admit that you make it very easy for this, how you say, falsehood, to be believable, you're always impeccably dressed, you take far longer showers in the gym than necessary, you tend to converse more freely with other guys, I mean you're almost never seen with a girl outside of classes, and you only socialize with them when I force you to…"
Somewhere along the line, Valygar knew this conversation to be utterly ridiculous but some primitive instinct urged him to defend himself as dignifiedly as possible…
"I don't like boys! I hate boys! I'm a boy-hater! I mean, sure, I don't mind guys who like other guys and I support that they can do it with whomever they want, but I'm not one of them! I want a woman! Women! I-like-women! Women, women, women! Have you ever seen me ogle a man at the beach? Never! My eyes always draw to the woman by his side! I ignore the chiselled chest and washboard abs and go straight to the swinging hips and bouncing breasts on the woman! ON THE WOMAN! THE WOMAN!"
"… Ah, point taken. You like women."
The ranger student groaned, returning his face back to its normally neutral features, "By the gods, is this why Harrah is so vicious towards me? Because she thinks I stole you from her?"
"That reason is sound."
"… You!" Valygar almost spat. "This is the third time you've done this!"
Yoshimo's roguish grin slammed back to full strength, "And it's worked everytime!" and upon seeing the murderous light being stoked in his friend's eyes he quickly added, "I apologize that you must suffer in my stead, you have my word it shall not happen again. I am honoured to call you friend. Come, I'll buy you lunch as I will gift upon you free advice to improve on your very dismal love life."
"… What did I ever do to you?"
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In one of the many gymnasiums dotted around campus, the wrestling team was having a practice. Bodies were being routinely tossed violently to the ground much to the glee and yet dissatisfaction of a verbally abusive coach.
WHAM!
"Ye pot-bellied sloths! Ye weak-willed worms! I told ye tae slam 'im intae the floor, nay tae lay 'im gently down! None o' ye are leavin' 'till I see cracked backs an' broken teeth, be that un'erstood?!"
"YES SIR, COACH BLOODAXE, SIR!" came the loud responses despite the bruising lungs they issued from.
This particular gymnasium where bodily harm was being committed was shaped like a domed coliseum, The Pit, as it is affectionately called, was very much akin to the gladiatorial pits of the larger cities. Spikes, who no one could ever discern their purpose for existing, jutted out randomly throughout the gymnasium. The dank odour of sweat and dirt seemed a permanent fixture in the place.
On one side, apart from the practice area were various free weights and exercise machines lying around meant to keep the student's bodies in perfectly muscular condition. However, there failed to be a communication of information that regular maintenance was required and thus the exercise area remained mostly untouched ever since one student had received brain damage from a pair of weights that had slipped from the bar he was lifting.
A perfectly circular area, the arena gives way to eight foot stonewalls with entrances on four sides, covered with banners meant to lift school spirits with catchy slogans like "Terror-ific!" "Go For Number WIN!" and "We BELIEVE In You!"
Needless to say, the banners served more to embarrass than to uplift.
Rising upwards to the metallic sheen of the domed roof, the stone seats were dotted with spectators who had the spare time witness the practice unfold. Instead of padded flooring, packed dirt served to 'cushion' the combatants should they take a fall.
And there was a lot of falling.
Amidst the thud of bodies and grappling arms stood an intimidating dwarf, his shirtless body proudly displaying a haze of old battle scars criss-crossing across thick muscles. Coach Bloodaxe rolled his eyes in disgust at one display of a double-armed suplex demonstrated in front of him.
"Ilvastarr! Ilvastarr, ye trout-gutted toad! What in the Nine Hells be that? An' if'n ye says that were to be a double-armed suplex I'll have ye lickin' the blood off o' the floor with yer tongue!"
The young wrestler gulped back his response quickly.
"Oi! Answer me, ye puddle-bathin' mama's boy!"
Panic set in, the wrestler jumbling thoughts of the pros and cons of answering.
"Better answer the coach, Ajantis!" a voice called out from one of his team mates.
"Ye damned well better!"
"Uh… that was… ummm… a… double-armed suplex?" his answer sounding more like a pleading question.
"…"
"…"
"… What did ye say?"
"D-d-double… armed… suplex?"
"Ye dare? Ye dare!? Ye dare call that a double-armed suplex? It not even be worthy enough tae be called a hug! What kind o' sorry excuse fer a wrestlin' combatant be ye? I'll not have ye disgrace the noble double-armed suplex wi' yer 'orrible attempts o' mockery, ye monkey-breathed layabout! Aarg! I'm goin' tae beat ye, there be a fongin' in store for ye, ye limp wooded, toad kissin'…!"
The rest of the wrestling team continued sparring around the pair, the coach's furious tirade not only a common occurrence at practices but was practically an ingrained part of their training program.
As Coach Bloodaxe continued to batter and destroy what was left of Ajantis's ego, another group of wrestlers were having a serious strategic and tactical discussion on how to proceed with practice in such a course that would best prepare them for the future.
"It's your turn!"
"No, it ain't, it's yours!"
"It's Ferrel's!"
"Don't you line me up for execution, Morgle! If it's anybody's turn, it's yours!"
"Nine Hells, all's I knows is t'ain't gonna be me!"
"Forget it, Trolloven, you haven't gone in ages, you're next!"
"Look, all I know is that it's not my turn!"
"Not me!"
"Yes, you!"
"No, you!"
"You!"
"No, you!"
"You-!"
"SILENCE, FOOLS!" a voice like painful death rumbled.
As one, the group of wrestlers gulped visibly, turning their shaken attention to the lone figure standing to the side, his heavily muscled arms akimbo in front of him.
"Uh, captain, we were just, uh, strategizing…"
"If one of you does not come forward to practice spar with me soon, I will destroy all of you at once."
The group paled, a few of them almost losing bladder control. Sarevok Anchev, captain of Sword Coast University's wrestling team never joked.
Grim determination overtook the wrestlers. They looked at each other, the unspoken agreement between team mates personifying an age old tradition of strength and honour.
"Well, lads, there's only one thing left to do."
Nods of agreement were exchanged, fists held out in salute.
"On three. One…"
Concentration etched their faces…
"… Two…"
… as well as the desire to retain usage of all their limbs.
"… Three!"
"ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS!"
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He found her sitting alone on one of the benches beside the artificial pond. Despite the large area of Pimlico's Square, she was easily identifiable from the far opposite side by her distinctive braided blonde hair.
Cernd watched her a moment longer, slowly drinking in the image she presented.
The young woman was leaning casually against the bench, her long legs crossed at the ankles laid along the seat. Posture that could be interpreted as either relaxed or defeated.
Her clothes were plain though with a light fashionable flair, green breeches and tunic with brown leather lacings. Every so often a breeze would flutter her hair while she remained unmindful of it.
What really culled his attention was her lack of it. There was a book held in her hands and her eyes did roam the words. Yet she was missing that air of someone who paid attention or cared what they were doing.
He wondered about her a bit longer before he finally took a step forward.
"Cernd."
Surprised the young druid turned towards the voice, "Professor Keldorn?"
The tall, smiling man walking towards him immediately commanded his attention. The professor wore gleaming armour with light border patterns decorating it that was obviously well cared for. The man was well groomed, a head full of dark grey hair and a trimmed beard. A strong yet kind face, aged gracefully with experience held deep blue eyes that pierced right into him.
What got most people about Keldorn Firecam were those eyes that told of a lifetime of serving as a paladin of Torm. The professor not only oozed dignity and wisdom, he practically attracted respect.
"How are you doing, lad? It's been a while since we last saw one another. I trust you've had a good summer?"
Cernd could not help but smile at his former professor. Keldorn Firecam was one of the few who taught a course that most students actually were eager to attend. What really garnered the students' admiration was that the professor not only made the effort to learn everybody's name but that he actually still remembered who they were even after they only took one of his classes or they graduated.
"Professor Keldorn, it has indeed been a while. I would say before the flowers blossomed this year. My summer was as joyous as the notes of a nightingale or the first snowflake to flutter earthwards. I feel it did my soul wonders to walk amongst the woods of my home again like the return of the soaring birds after winter ends."
"Heheh," the professor chuckled, "Your youthful enthusiasm for all things of this world has always been a privilege to witness. I do so wonder why you've never bothered to take another one of my courses? Have I really offended you that much with my boorish lectures?"
Cernd grinned wider, knowing that his former professor was only joking. Professor Keldorn taught a series of courses separate from the Department of Druidism. In his second year Cernd only enrolled in one of them in order to satisfy his curiosity about the professor that everybody on campus praised above all others.
Needless to say, the young druid never regretted enrolling for the class though he does regret never signing up for the others.
"Unfortunately, professor, your courses would not have accounted towards my graduation requirements and schooling fees have always been a concern of my folks."
"Ah, to think that my lecture halls are deprived of intelligent minds like yours because of a little thing like coin," Keldorn Firecam bantered.
"It's true, it is an irony we must all live with. We're taught that all we need in life is all around us, yet in order to fully appreciate the gift of nature we must pay to learn how it'd best suit our senses."
"Good to know I've taught you something."
Out of the corner of his eyes Cernd spotted the young woman getting up and walking away.
"I'm sorry professor but there's something I've been meaning to do," the young druid said as he made to follow her.
He suddenly felt a firm grip on his shoulder. Turning around Cernd was surprised to see the sadness in his former professor's eyes.
"I've had a long life, young Cernd, filled with as much loss as joy. I've seen the broken spirits of many a comrade and I pray that you never drown in sorrow as they have," Professor Keldorn then stared thoughtfully at the young woman walking away, "I have also seen inner strength the likes of which I could only ever hope to achieve."
Cernd did not even bother asking how the professor just seemed to know, "I… I just want to help."
Professor Keldorn then grasped both his shoulders, his tone an urgent kindness, "And you shall, young Cernd, you shall… but not now. Her pain is the kind that cannot be smothered with overzealous sympathy for it shall only serve to fan the flames," he paused momentarily, the compassion strong in his voice, "Jaheira is stronger than she appears but I also know that it is a fragile strength. She will resist your comfort no matter how long you offer it until eventually she'll harden herself enough to forever forget compassion."
"She shouldn't have to go at this alone."
"No, she won't. You're a determined one, aren't you? I remember those passionate debates you so enthusiastically challenged the class with. It's always admirable to see students with so much faith and conviction in their beliefs."
"I thought they were arguments."
"… Debates. Ahem. I do not argue that she should not be alone. However, I know Jaheira better than you think. What she needs is someone to walk beside her, not to carry her," Professor Keldorn thought carefully, "As you would say, to be a… a mother hen… to her chickens… would be… to smother their… feathers…"
Cernd smirked, "Even I find that to be a poor metaphor."
"Yes, well, we all can't be as poetic as you, Cernd," the professor smiled sadly, "What I want you to understand is that Jaheira needs a friend now… not a hero."
The young druid nodded silently, his eyes never leaving the figure that was never before so alone.
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"OH GODS!! BONE! I CAN SEE MY BONE! WHY CAN I SEE MY BONE!?"
"Quiet your pathetic mewling, weakling, and get yourself to a cleric."
Cradling his very broken arm, the unfortunate wrestler sobbed as he dragged himself to the healer, his ashen faced friends watching in silent horror.
Sarevok remained impassive, his massive frame posed with all the forbidding power of someone who crippled grown men as a hobby. Inwardly he was very frustrated. It seemed that during every practice at least one person broke a bone or damaged their internal organs when facing him. If he could not find anybody who could last one round or at least remain reasonably hale and hearty, he would never be able to advance his skills.
Is there no one else? he thought without hope.
"Sarevok! Did I jes' see Trolloven crawl 'is pathetic self tae the healer? Has he gots a bone stickin' out o' his arm?"
"Yes sir, Coach Bloodaxe, sir."
"… Har har! Excellent! I always knew ye'd be able tae whip these pansy-daisies intae shape when I made ye cap'n. An' that be what I want ye tae do wi' this here crummuffin."
Sarevok did not even bat an eyebrow, "… Who, sir?"
"Whaddye mean…?" the coach began before realizing he was standing alone.
Furiously annoyed, Coach Bloodaxe whirled around until he found who he was looking for by the weight training equipment. The person in question was busy staring in awe at his surroundings until he heard the very enraged scream of his new coach.
"YE STUPID MONGREL FED IDJIT! GET YER DUMB ARSE O'ER HERE NOW!!"
"Oh, I am most sorry, coach!"
"AN' IT BE COACH BLOODAXE TO YE, YE SLOP STOMACH!"
As the person bashfully made his way over, Sarevok this time did slightly raise one eyebrow.
It seems the gods see fit to grant my wish.
The goofily smiling newcomer introduced himself, "Hello, comrade! I am Minsc and-!"
"AND YE DON'T IGNORE ME!"
Confusion was clearly evident in Minsc's response, "But have we already met?"
"ARE YE KIDDIN'? I'M YER BLOODY COACH!"
Despite the obvious lack of common sense, Sarevok detected massive potential with the new wrestler. Minsc was a bear of a man with a few scars showing that he was no stranger to battle.
More than one wrestler present wet themselves in fear when they saw the apocalyptic grin of Sarevok Anchev.