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Smerdle rolled 1 100-sided dice:
89
Total: 89 (1-100)
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 Posted: Mon Oct 15, 2012 9:04 pm
Character: Eanah Stage: Apprentice Luck: 5 Dragon: Ayrala Success rate: 91 - 100 Lose: 6.5(15/13) = 7.5 XP
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Posted: Tue Oct 16, 2012 8:06 pm
She awoke to the disorientating sensation of someone shaking her quite violently. Her fingers curled around her staff before her mind had shed the fog of sleep, but her assailant anticipated the movement, grabbing her wrist and twisting it just so long before she could strike. The weapon clattered to the ground and Eanah let out a brief and completely non-threatening growl in response. How dare someone manhandle her so! Who did they think they were—
"Selfish, stupid child!" Leyn spat, his face suddenly inches from her own. He shook her once more for good measure, then let her go without warning. Eanah fell the short distance to the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust as she landed. She took in a shaky breath, but made no other sound until she had risen to her feet. Even then, she preceded her retort with a sharp jab to Leyn's chest. She put as much force behind the strike as she could muster, but the older boy barely seemed to notice her assault.
"I am neither!" she hissed. The temptation to rise onto her toes was strong, but she kept it under wraps. "You, Anat, Dares—you all insist I am this close to ready to come here on my own, but none of you will explain exactly what I need to be good enough! And don't repeat that weapon nonsense. Some magical stick isn't going to make me any better equipped to board a boat to Ayr." Had she been thinking clearly, she might have been appalled at her words. The "magical stick" she was months away from earning had been all she had wanted in life for as long as she could remember, but it no longer seemed to be the only thing of worth anymore. Respect meant more. Lots of things did. "I don't have a scepter and I got here just fine."
Their voices were little more than grating whispers, but the people around them still stared, Orderites and Oblivionites alike. Eanah turned a glare on them, but many stayed put and continued staring. A glare, a jab; neither had any effect. Maybe she was as weak and needy as her instructors seemed to imply.
"You are nothing more than a toddler throwing a tantrum," Leyn continued, choosing to ignore the fact that he had woken her from a sound slumber by shaking her like a doll. "I have already booked passage on the next ship home. Once we get there, you will be confined to your quarters for a week, the only exceptions being for meals and lessons. In addition, you will not set foot on Ayr again until you have your scepter." He bent stiffly and retrieved her staff, leaving her to pick up the rest of her belongings.
Eanah wanted so desperately to reply with some scathing remark, but something in Leyn's voice held her back, a burr of frustration and concern that she had no counter for. He was worried. Her friend had been worried about her. She deflated like one of Kadryn's leaking bags of paint.
"Yes, Leyn," the girl agreed, hefting her satchel over one shoulder. He nodded once, then silently led her out of the cavern toward the docks. The fog was thinner this morning, and through it she could just make out the slender forms of dragons winging through the sky, dragons she wouldn't see again until she was officially a mage.
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