Welcome to Gaia! ::

How long had it been since Greenskin has violated and humiliated him in front of the majority of the student body? Warslik was unused to an environment in which rumors spread like wildfire, but now he couldn't go anywhere without being identified as part of some sordid childhood affair with Greenskin. Glowering at those doing so did nothing but seemingly enforce that it was true - and that he was what they called a "jerk."

To be quite honest he didn't care.

What he did care about though - was revenge, so he had taken to sitting under a tree in the courtyard and mapping the movements of Greenskin, watching him from behind his book, trying to get a feel for his routine. It was reaching the point of approach now - he just needed to figure out how to bait the trap.

To befriend, then betray. He had caused Warslik harm - it was time to put the plan for revenge into motion.

By being as nice and apologetic as possible.

With deliberate movements he closed his tome and rose, dusting himself off as best as he could, then he made his approach, mindful of the eyes of other students that could potentially be upon him. Not that it mattered at this point. The more people that believed him to be trying to gain good standing with Greenskin, the better.

He might actually buy into it if everyone told him it was true.

Approaching slowly, shyly, the red head closed the distance as if he were unsure if he should approach the other male. Finally, he fell in beside him as he walked, book in hand as he matched the other boys step.

"I-I-I w-wish..." Warslik began, stumbling over his words likes a servant caught with his master's finest silver in his satchel. "I wish... to beg you your forgiveness for the most grievous manner in which I acted upon our first meeting."

He finally turned to look at the other boy, eyes kept low, demure - shy. "I was completely and ignobly out of manner and I do beg you most keenly for your forgiveness. I... I have been having a very difficult time in my adjustment to this place and I beg thee to forgive me in mine manner on the day on which we had our first meeting." He winced then - as if remembering it.

"I said some quite rude things to thee, Gunter, great insults to thine personage. I will not begrudge thee if thou dost not desire to forgive mine inadequate manner. It was poor, ignoble and unseemly and surely dost I regret mine actions most keenly." He tried to force a shy smile, but it quickly faltered into a wilted thing, his green eyes misting slightly.

"Mine desire is simple - if thou art still interested in mine company and mine friendship - could we dost be compatriots? Mayhaps even brothers-in-name?"

Embarrassment colored Warslik's cheeks once again as he tried his level best to forget that moment. A shiver ran through him, and his body quaked a little with rage, not that his face showed it at all. Warslik once again lowered his eyes, feeling them start to mist up as he let out something akin to a squeak.

"I must admit that I was completely caught unawares by thine act that day," He finally murmured, following the other boy into his room. "I must also confess, with much woe, that I am unsure if I wast any good at it - for it wast mine first."

The color again rose in his cheeks as he looked up at the offer of dinner.

"Aye, I wouldst not be opposed to sharing repast with thee," the red head smiled weakly. "Tis been some time since I hath allowed mine self the luxury of relaxation."

"Aye, it twas, I hath never before placed mine lips against those of another, a strange custom, that. Though mine elder brothers spoke of it most keenly, when they fell to talking." Which, Warslik failed to add - was rare enough in itself, for none of his seven older brothers particularly liked the others and Saul disliked them all the most.

"I fear thou art correct in thine assumption. I did not realize that I had drawn thee in so deeply, however. Many are mine apologies - for I hath no interest in your heart." Save to cut it from thine chest and heave it, still beating and bleeding sweet, rich blood, to the hounds of all the hells so that you might know the agony of eternal pain. He smiled weakly at the other male, bowing his head slowly.

"As far as repast I shall leave that in thine capable hands." He said with a nod, looking about the dorm before keeping his eyes downcast away from the lights. He did not desire to be blinded. "I see no candle nor lantern in thine room, Gunter - pray tell, how doth thou light thine quarters?"

Warslik was not offended by the teasing flung his way by the other boy. He was already out for his blood - a little more to the pile wasn't really going to affect the outcome at all. The flattery just rolled off his back like the water off a duck. He was unused to it in the first place - so it too, had very little significance to his decision making process.

He was however, going to ask what in the bloody hells this "florescent lighting" was when he got a first hand demonstration.

He was caught completely unprepared for the sudden burst of light. What was worse, it was intense and thrummed against his eyes like several thousand suns.

If he had been lucky, he would have fainted dead away right there and been done with it - but unfortunately he was able to maintain his faculties and suddenly dropped to the floor, hugging his knees and burying his face into his knees, trying to block out the light as he started to chant rapidly.

"Potestates et profundas tenebras, caecatur projicere sit. Demon princeps Aezeleth, tueri fidelis servus, ne involvamini in hac torrentis rapidi. Maledictus lumen eorum qui in tenebris hostis. Ducite ab hac luce potiatur. Sic ut sit miser Nisi tibi servire. Aezeleth tristes domino, nisi hoc unum, quod unum a praesidio vim miserae lumen."

If he could have thrashed against the other male he would have, but he was for all intents and purposes blinded by the sudden and harsh thrumming of the lights, his ears were humming and his skin itched. Once the lights were shut off, Warslik panted quietly, trying to reign himself in less he attempt to tackle and strangle the other male to death. He heard the other male's apology but ignored it from underneath the blankets for a few moments.

"No, there ist not anything that thou canst do," Warslik said, peering out from beneath the blanket and his cloak. "This thing you call florescent lighting, stings at mine eyes and thrums in my ears. There is naught I can do about it but sit and feel miserable."

He shook his head slowly. "So thou should turn back on thine lights, Gunter, I will bear it. Twas a nasty shock but I am prepared now."

He closed his eyes and waited for the lights to come back on. They would give him a headache in a short time but he would deal.

"Oh? Nothing thou needs worry about - I was just seeking my Prince to lend me aid. While he is not obligated to, sometimes it helps to extend a request to him, even if it is powered only by will alone." Warslik said slowly opening his eyes. "It is in the Language Arcana - what thou would call Latin."

He shrugged, not really in the mood to give a lecture on the nature of the arcane - or how no two schools or style of magic shared any real similarities save a penchant for altering the material plane to the casters will. The basis of his own particular course of study he understood. He had to some extent, mastered most if not all of the minor bindings - and had begun work on his majors. But they were far more complex and detailed in their lines and arcs and symbols that he was having a damned time doing it.

"It's content is not important - nor would it make any particular sense to thee."

"Tis no prayer," Warslik said, listening to Gunter's logic as he spoke. He shook his head slowly. Obviously they did not focus on the metaphysical out in this backwards place. To be so unerringly dense about something so important as the fabric of reality was cringe worthy to Warslik.

"When I seek aid from mine Prince, tis purely that," he said. "I am his servant. His vassal. I have a responsibility to serve as his hands and will in this plane. He too, is responsible for keeping me protected against those who would seek to do me ill. But he has many vassals, and he can only extend his will so much into the Material Plane. So there is never a guarantee that I will be one of the ones he answers - thus we should also be equipped to handle issues ourselves when we can."

Shaking his head again he sighed.

"Daemon's," he said, correcting what he thought was a mispronunciation. "Are extra-dimensional. There are many planes - some argue an infinite number. There are too, an Infinite number of Princes then, if that is the case. We do not know all of them, nor, really, do we want to. Some are beneficent, some are maleficent, some can be bargained with and some cannot. Woe betide anyone who cross into the realm of the Courts of Chaos, for there they shall only find madness and ruin. If it is easier for your mind, thing of reality as an infinitely large onion. The material plane is is center. From there it expands outward, layer upon layer, where upon you can find any of infinite number of things."

Warslik had not really been in the mood to give a lecture on the basis of metaphysics but it was required if Gunter was even going to have a hope of understanding his Prince.

"Mine Prince, Aezeleth the Defiler, Lord of the Burning Chains, Keeper of the Wailing Pits of Multhar, Breaker of Ul'tri'gare the Malign, is a strong and powerful Prince with many followers and rules one of the many infinite hells. He is one of the Council of Seven, whom vie amongst each other for power and control of the other minor Daemons. When he manifests in the material plane he chooses to take the form of a man. He is about four meters in height, with another meter of horns besides. His tail is long and serpent like, and his wings easily span another four meters each. His skin is a rust red and his hair is a dark brownish rust. His eyes are a deep rust red, and they glow with his immeasurable power. His boots are black as jet, his finery is the most crisp and sharp as I have ever seen it. His colors are Rust and Black. He carries a spiked chain wrapped about his person, it glows hot with the infernal fires of his might. He is large and he is imposing. His will is not to be trifled with. Even mine grandfather who summoned him gives him the greatest deference, and that man bows to no mortal man I have yet met."

He watched Gunter in the dark, realizing with some humor that he could probably have ended the boy right there as he talked, he had let his guard down completely it seemed. But no - the time was not right. Besides, it would be no fun if Gunter suffered by his own hand.

"What of this magic thou call science, Gunter? Thou speak of it often and it vexes me."