Lucas’ eyes finally opened, finding it hard to even manage that his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the room. His eyes finally focused on his surroundings taking in the sights; they weren’t much but it was a lot better than where he had passed out at. When his body finally allowed him to sit up, he got an intense feeling of vertigo, almost as if his body was telling him it wasn’t ready to get up, but he wasn’t going to stay in bed when what he hoped was a nightmare didn’t seem to be. He moved his legs to the edge of the bed his entire body ached, mostly his head, that bull-man he fought must have tap danced across his forehead while playing some sort of folk music. He rubbing at his forehead trying to focus his thoughts as he used the nearby end table to balance himself, only now noticing the cup that was on it, and the faint taste of chocolate or cookies, something he couldn’t quite place at the current situation.

He stumbled his way to the door turning the knob stumbling his way out into the den, now his had to adjust to the light of day coming in through the windows and the screen door, but that wasn’t the interesting thing, the entire den seemed odd, and smelled of fresh grapes. He frowned and turned towards the door; the warmth of the sun felt good on his aching body pushing his way out to the front porch, and if it were humanly possible his jaw would have hit the wooden porch that he had stepped out on. What he first noticed was the cabins, not so much cabins as ancient Greek-like buildings, he rubbed at his eyes to see if this was all a hallucination caused by his aching skull, but no such luck; after his realization of the cabins, his eyes fell on the campers now seemingly going about their day as if he was just another kid that got lost and managed to wind up here after the storm though he wanted to call out and ask where he was, he kept his mouth shut his mind registering what his eyes had seemingly ignored; this kids were armed! Some of the campers seemed to be walking off towards an archery range with a quiver on their backs and bows in their hand, others swords at their hips and breastplates on their torsos.

Lucas made his way to the railing leaning against it his head now throbbing with all this new information that it was gathering, but that was before the whinny and the whooshing sound passed over his head. He looked up just happening to catch a glimpse of a… flying horse? His eyes grew wide for a moment and then he just closed his eyes placing his head against the railing. “Nope, just a dream, can’t be real flying horses, armed kids cabins with Greek-influences. This place was making less sense by the moment, not to mention his fight with a tighty-whitey wearing bull man, that choked his mother to golden dust. “I’m going to wake up..on the side of the road and my mom’s going to be shaking me awake yep..that’s how it’s gonna play out..” He mumbled to himself quietly trying to keep standing, and using the railing to keep him up-right.

"I'm sorry to say; It's not a dream." Sage said from the other side of the porch, where he was leaning his back against the railway, bouncing around an apple in his hand and staring at the fruit intently. He had an expression of calm consideration on his face, no longer carrying on with the nervous persona he'd kept up during his time at Yancy Academy with Lucas, when his facial expressions had always had a trace of shyness or paranoia to them. It would also appear that he'd escaped from their little incident with the Minotaur unscathed, despite it having appeared he'd been knocked unconscious. His crimson eyes glanced over to where Lucas was slumping against the rail, muttering on about how he would wake up soon. "All of this is real, everything that happened that night was real. The Minotaur, the lightning, the new whole in your step-father's camaro... Your mother...." He hesitated with that last bit, but quickly continued as he pushed himself off the rail. "But, you're safe now. You're among friends... Family, if you'll call us that. You have nothing to worry about here, at Camp Half-Blood." He spoke those last words as if they should have had a heavy meaning, or perhaps a dramatic effect.

With a few steps, he was in front of Lucas, examining carefully from head to toe, sure that the confused boy was doing the same. After all, he no longer slouched like in the academy, and he'd forsaken his uniform for something that appeared far more appropriate on him. He wore what appeared to be black military pants with combat boots, and an orange t-shirt with the words "Camp Half-Blood" on it. Over that he had an open khaki button down reminiscent of an east german uniform, with all decoration removed from it other than a patch on the left shoulder modeled after the german flag. The button down was a size too large, and appeared somewhat like a short sleeved jacket on him.

After the brief examination of the confused Lucas, Sage turned away and from a chair nearest them, picked up a small pile of neatly folded clothing. "I know this is all a little confusing to you... Believe me, I know... But, you've been out cold for three days now.. Some of us were concerned you would never wake up, with the state you were in... But, we managed to nurse you back with a little ambrosia and nectar and a few miracles. I knew you'd make it through, though I will admit that I wasn't expecting you to be walking so soon, and for you to remember so much of that night." With that said, he offered Lucas the clothes and a comforting smile. "If you'll go put these on, I'll show you around."

“Not a dream..” He muttered to himself, those first words sticking in his head as Sage continued to talk. He listened, or tried to not wanting to seem rude at this point, mentioning his mother set a rigid shock through his spine, and for just a few moments all the pain was gone as he stood up straight looked to sage and frowned. “wait…you called that thing the minotaur, as in the labyrinth, Theseus right killed him? so uh..if that really happened shouldn’t he be.” Lucas’ mind was working overtime, which didn’t help the headache as he studied sage’s face, and his new appearance which in hind-sight he would have laughed at if he wasn’t in so much pain emotionally and physically. “Camp half-blood..” He repeated, beginning to sound like a broken record. “Three days..what..” His mind was trying to wrap around all this new knowledge, all these new facts that were seemingly burning into his brain.

He took the clothes, though he never really registered the fact he did. “Wait, you said Ambrosia, wasn’t that…the food of the gods in old greek myths?” He asked his mind reeling with old details his ADHD mind had actually kept. “Wait you also said half-blood right, Ambrosia.. it was said it would kill a mortal man..” his mind seeming to get nearer to an answer but the logic of the world he had lived in denying it. He disappeared back inside the big house finding a room that wasn’t occupied, or didn’t seem like it, he couldn’t tell right now changing out of his tattered jeans that looked like he had let someone throw hot coal all over, burn marks and holes all over the legs, and his shirt, needless to say was ripped around his abdomen and missing a sleeve, though his shoes seemed fine, thankfully doubting he’d get a chance to find another pair any time soon.

Once he had changed and felt like his head had stopped working overtime, he rejoined Sage on the porch studying the male as if he had just met him again. “So, that was just an act then back at the academy?” Though he didn’t wait for an answer, figuring he didn’t need one as the answer stood obviously in front of him. “So…wanna show me around my new home, I guess I better get to know it and my new friends and family..” He said family with a bit of sorrow, as if the word was a gouging knife ready to pierce his heart, still not ready to accept his mother’s death; or that he fought the minotaur in his underwear. “Oh uh…and a comb would be nice.” He said indicating his bed-head, his hair was going in so many different direction it looked like a back up high way in New york, and he should know he lived there.

Sage nodded as the boy's bit about the minotaur being killed by Theseus... "Yes, Theseus killed it the first time... But you'll find that monsters are a bit different than us, and thus take 'Death' a bit differently. And to be exact, you were unconscious for three days and about four hours... It's Tuesday, and it's around 12 o'clock now." He managed to say before Lucas disappeared inside the Big House. When he came back out in his new clothing, which consisted of a camp half-blood t-shirt and blue jeans, Sage continued his explanation, allowing Luke to interrupt every so often. "Yes, Half-Blood... And yes, Ambrosia would have killed you immediately if you were human. It would have burned you from the inside until you were ashes. However, you are one of us, and therefore much more resistant to this particular effect."

He paused for a moment when Lucas interrupted again, to ask if the way he was at the academy was an act.. Of course, the answer was a yes.. Sage was not nearly so timid or pessimistic as he'd been at Yancy, and he would never have let Lucas fight off the other misfits. However, he decided not to answer the question for now... That would come later. There were more important things to discuss. Sage turned away from the big house and looked out toward the camp grounds, his arms outstretched as he began to explain. "Camp Half-Blood is a camp for half-bloods.. Or rather, Demigods, as Chiron puts it. We are, as you probably have guessed, not entirely human. We are the children of the gods.. The Greek ones to be exact. Our godly parents fell in love with mortals, had us, then left us nice and alone to face the world and the monsters that hunt us. Here we have some of the only godly intervention you will ever see.. A camp made to train us to fight and survive in the world. A place we can live in safety.. Thanks to our magical borders, which came at a great cost."

Sage's arms relaxed and he gave Lucas a little gesture for him to follow as Sage stepped off the porch and made his way towards the center of the camp, where the cabins resided. "Here we have our 'cabins' which, as you can probably see now, are made to represent each of the Olympian gods and goddesses. Whoever your parents is decides which cabin you stay in... And until you're determined, you stay in cabin 11, the Hermes cabin. It's a bit cramped, but it's nicer than where I stay..." Sage looked towards the first three cabins, gesturing to them as he did. "It would be best not to venture into those. The Hera, Poseidon, and Zeus cabins tend to curse unwanted intruders." He turned to Lucas then, a large smile on his face. "So, any questions yet? Or are you ready to see the amphitheater and arena?"

In complete disregard for whatever else was occurring in camp at the moment, Ishmael had all but locked himself away inside the Hephaestus cabin, and was working away at nothing in particular. He was practicing building things that did not require using the forge, a variety of items that went into metal items, and sometimes not. Nothing noteworthy, not yet, and he kept sanding away at what would hopefully turn into a longbow's beginning. He had spent a lot of the morning hours at the forge already, fine tuning the basics of working with glowing hot metals. He preferred keeping to his cabin and working on whatever came to mind, and not just because of his apparent parentage. The crippled old bastard could go die in a hole for all he cared at this point, he was better off than before, and he got to pretty much waste time doing something he could enjoy. He hadn't been paying attention, and the piece of wood he was sanding away at was far too thin to be of any use at this point. Scowling, he chucked the piece of wood into the far corner, where several other wood chunks like it remained.

A scowl still planted firmly on his face, he stood up and brushed off the wood shavings that remained on his outfit. He always wore it, whether he was working at the forge or not. A streak of black, a jacket over an equally black shirt and a single cross pendant dangling from around his neck, with cargo pants and steel toed boots to finish the get up. After making sure none of the wood shavings, or anything else, was still clinging to his clothes, he slipped his wrench into his belt and walked out of his cabin, shielding his eyes from the too bright light. It was always too damned bright whenever there were no clouds, and once his eyes readjusted, he spotted Sage and some kid wearing the Camp Half-Blood outfit, and his memory kicked in. Oh yea, it was that sorry bastard that had gotten jumped coming here, and got his ass saved. Still breathing, and actually conscious? Well, there's something then.

Ishmael made his way that way, nodding in a way that was as close to amiable as the boy generally got to Sage, and looked over the new kid and raised an eyebrow. "Your alive, then? Lost that bet then, damn." He crossed his arms, having said what little he was going to at the moment. The fact he had to be dragged in and nursed for three days was hardly impressive. Then again, he did survive after all, so that was something. He decided that, if the kid was going to be here after all, introductions were in order so he dropped his arms to his side. "Well, since your breathing, your enrolled here most likely. Call me Ishmael, if you have to get my attention at all."

Lucas just stood there, mostly dumbfounded by the knowledge that was being poured into his mind by Sage. “So…We’re born, find our way here or die trying..good to know” he said with a shake of his head following Sage towards the cabins, hearing he’d be bunking down with cabin eleven; the Hermes cabin made him blink. “Soo….glad I’ve nothing of value on my person, if I’m staying with the children of the god of thieves..” Though when Sage indicated towards the three bigger cabins his eyes caught onto the sight of the Poseidon cabin, something, a strange feeling calling to him from it but he ignored it promptly as another person entered the conversation.

His first instinct when hearing that there was a bet on his life was to be angry, but he didn’t feel angry, more along the lines of being happy to actual have survived. “Thanks, good to know my survival lost you some easy money” He said a bit sarcastically though he nodded when the male mentioned his name. “Lucas, or Luke I suppose, I’m not exactly sure my name’s gonna matter much” he said with a returning gaze to the Poseidon cabin. “Sage you mentioned an arena, are you talking like the Roman Coliseum kind of thing? like pit-falls with wooden stakes fighting lions, and sword fighting?” He asked curiously, the first notice of a smile on his face, something he was good at swords, well not swords in particular considering he had no official training, but he did like them.

“oh um wait, you said Chiron, are you talking about the famous trainer of heroes; like Achilles?” he asked with a curious expression, knowing he was bringing something up that had been mentioned a bit before what he had asked currently. Which in his mind it was spinning in circles trying to regain a foothold but failing miserably. “Wait…okay so I’m a demigod, and I’m alive now…because I was able to kill the Minotaur; who killed my mother” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “This being the only place our uh…kind? can learn to survive out in the real world, and uh I’m guessing Chiron is our what? camp Director?” He asked curiously his mind now focusing which was odd being ADHD and all. “Is there any possibility that I’m in a comma and this is just a recurring nightmare that I’ll wake up from? no?” he asked looking from Ishmael to Sage, and back again. He knew deep down Sage was telling him the truth, but to find out that the Greek gods weren’t myths, and they’re in America of all places now? Well one more bit of news like that and his head might ignite, if not maybe his heart would have a complete attack because of the fact his mother was actually gone. Then it hit him, his eyes seemingly began to have signs of hope in them. “Wait if everything from Greek lore is real…that means the underworld too right?” he asked with a hopeful expression aimed directly at Sage.

"Oh, hello Ishmael." Sage said with a smile as the antisocial member of the hephaestus cabin walked up to them and immediately began greeting Lucas in his own, quite special way. Of course, this involved various levels of insults and the mention of the minor matter of there being a bet on whether or not Lucas would come out of his coma... Which Sage had, regrettably been in on (and had won). "Have you started on that project for me?" Of course, as soon as that question was asked, Lucas started his questioning again. "Yes, I did mention an arena, but it's hardly on the same level as a roman Coliseum... It's really little more than an area where we have our weapons practices. We typically only fight each other here, but every so often they let us go apply our skills against the monsters we stock in the forest on the edge of camp."

He took a quick breath then before continuing, growing rather tired of continuing with these explanations. However, before he could speak, a much older voice spoke out from a bit away from them. "Yes, he was talking about that Chiron." Sage turned quickly to see Ethan, a teenage boy roughly sixteen years old with white blond hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in his usual manner; work out pants, combat boots, and an orange camp shirt with the sleeves ripped off. In his right hand he held a long sword made of celestial bronze, though one side of it always seemed a bit discolored. "And yes, you are alive now because you managed to defeat the Minotaur. Quite the extraordinary piece of work there, by the way. Only a few campers have actually managed to kill a monster or two, but they typically come back in worse shape than you did. I think.." He said as he stepped closer to Sage and put his hand on the kid's head, ruffling his hair, "That this kid is one of the only ones to come back unscathed every time. And no, Chiron is not our camp director.. That job belongs to Mr. D. Chiron is more like our activities director and a trainer. He can train you in everything except for swordplay.. That's where I come in." He gave Lucas a warm, welcoming smile as he removed his hand from Sage's head and offered it to Lucas. "The name's Ethan, leader of Cabin 11, son of Hermes."

Sage looked up at Ethan with something close to admiration mixed with the embarassment brought on by his treatment as a child. "To answer your last question... Yes, the Underworld exists.. I'm living proof of this... My father is.. Well..." Sage sighed and held out his hand in front of him, palm up. His expression turned to one of concentration, and after a few moments a ball of black flames ignited a few inches over his hand and continued to burn. Sage held it up towards Lucas. "I'm a son of the Underworld, or, rather, its king."

He observed Sage, noticing he seemed to be growing slightly annoyed at his questioning after he replied about the arena, but his next answer wouldn’t be coming as another entered the area, this one looked older than the rest that were present. He listened to the new male, noting his name was Ethan, shaking his hand when it was offered. “Nice to meet you.” He stated in a rather bland tone, but once Sage answered his question, his eyes began to shine with renewed vigor and his pains seem to fall away, if just enough to allow him to move quicker. “Then, I can find my mom again.. There’s hope” He said out loud more to himself than to those present. “So how do I find the entrance to the underworld, if everything is here.. in America now, that means it is too” His mind working the angles of getting his mother back, and not so much worried about the flame that was now held a by twelve year-old boy.

His mind was set now, wither he lived to tell about it, he had to find his mother and save her no matter the cost or the fights he’d have to live through. He had already killed one tighty-whitey wearing monster? what could a few hundred thousand do? unless they all wore tighty whiteys then it could get embarrassing. He was standing perfectly straight now his body seemingly not in as much pain as it had been, though that was just the adrenaline and excitement giving him something else to think about, it wasn’t like he was trying to be rude or anything of the like, but with a chance to save his mother, a chance to bring her back to life. He had to take it, even if it cost him his life in return. “Look is there any way I can leave camp at all? I mean thank you for uh saving me and taking care of me for three days but…”

He looked off to the side and then back to Sage, and then at Ethan straying from Ishmael a bit if only because the male had bet that’d he die. “My mother didn’t deserve her fate, and it was my fault, regardless of what happens to me I’ve got to save her, if only to give her back her life..” He said feeling his aching return but more promptly in his heart. Why did it have to hurt so bad to know his mother was able to be saved, but yet so far out of his reach, then again even if he did make it to the underworld how would he save her, and with what training. He didn’t know what to think right now, his mind taking the irrational action of wanting to save his mother at any cost, but yet a bit of him knew there was no chance of him succeed specially with how he had only beaten the Minotaur out of pure luck, not out of any natural training. He turned some looking towards a large hill with a lone tree. He studied it, a feeling of remorse seemingly taking him over but not for any reason he knew of, maybe it was a sense of realizing he was half-blood or whatever.

Max skipped awkwardly down the steep hill, along the path back towards the main campsite, her footsteps quiet despite the heavy looking boots she worse. In her right hand she gingerly held her finely decorated bow, and in the other was the limp body of a wild bird she had managed to shoot down during hunting practice. Her quiver of arrows bounced against her back as she made her way down the path, the rattling of arrows making up for the lack of noise in her footsteps. She had planned to give her game to the cook, seeing as she wouldn't have any better use for it, plus it saved her having to pluck and skin the bird. Of course, she could do it if necessary, though preferred not to if the option was available.

She looked up from the path as the slope became shallow and eventually flat as she made her way into the clearing of cabins. Light filtering through the treetops placed a gentle shadow of her as she observed who was lingering around the cabins. Seeing nobody worth noting at first, she made her way through the cabins, passing the group of boys that were gathered outside one of the larger buildings. Max slipped into the cooks' cabin, which was already bustling with action as they prepared the day's meals. It was not easy to feed an army of hungry demi-gods these days, as she was often told by the cooks. She made her way over to one of the people she was more familiar with, offering the small game bird.
"Not a big catch today, but I'm sure you'll find something to do with him." She said, her English country accent seemingly standing out against most of the other dialects heard within the camp. The cook grinned at the sight of the bird, always appreciative of the extra meat. He thanked the girl before pointing out that she looked like a mess and letting her leave before one of the older cooks shooed her away.

When she got outside it was more obvious to see what the cook had meant. Her pale face had been smeared with a streak of dirt on one cheek, and an odd leaf caught in her hair from the hunt. She'd caught her bright orange camp shirt on something sharp, which left a small gaping hole around her stomach and her black over the knee socks had been dirtied a little where she'd been kneeling and crouching amongst the dirt. The only thing that seemed unharmed by the hunt had been her mid-thigh length khaki shorts, though they had been roughly cut to that length and so looked rough and worn on any day. On top of her orange tee was a black hoodie, the arms of which were pushed up to her elbows. Her wavy brown bunches fell over her shoulders and almost reached the hole in her shirt. Everybody told her she should either cut her hair or tie it back properly, but she had always ignored them.

As she left the cook's cabin, she wondered whether it was worth going back to Apollo's cabin to clean up and change before going elsewhere. Eventually she decided against it, knowing that she would only get messy again when she went to the arena later on in the day. Max made her way back to the main path between the cabins, pausing for a moment to slip her silver bow over her shoulder and stretch her arms above her head, sighing with relief as she relaxed.

Ishmael shrugged when the mention of easy money being lost. "Eh, wasn't much, not worth wasting appreciable amounts of cash on." Sage, of course, had greeted him and asked about the project. He grinned at that, rather then anything else. One of the few ways to get him to grin or anywhere near smile was when he was given a project to work on, or was reminded of one. "Yes, yes, good day son of the dead. I've started dabbling with it, strange material as usual, I'll get it done when it gets done." Of course Ethan, one of the more well liked members of this camp, showed up and helped answer some of the kid who called himself Lucas, oh so original of a name, and unlike Sage's reaction, Ishmael did not show any real preference or happiness with the older fellow around. "Well timed, oh so beloved son of a thief's patron." He had gotten into trouble refusing to not somehow insulting every single person in this camp, in one form or another, but he never actually caused anyone real physical harm, so it was narrowly tolerated. It was his way of dealing with people, so that was that on the matter.

Lucas brought up the notion of the underworld being real, and Ishmael scoffed, already having an idea where his thoughts were going. "Lucas, didn't pay attention in school prior to here? Every single time someone goes down to Hell to try and bring someone back, it backfires horribly. Videotape the failure for me, would ya? Make a hell of a home video..." Ishmael's arms were crossed, and he watched the continued back and forth as questions were continued to be answered. He had a smirk on his face from his prior commentary, watching the reaction his commentary was getting thus far. The Lucas kid was more somber then most, and that didn't impress him too much. Yea, being kin to gods of various sorts was not fun, simply because of the impending drama, in his mind, but he dealt with it in a way that didn't depress the general area's mood. Not all at once, at least.

The one girl from the Apollo cabin was walking along, looked fresh from the hunt as usual, and he made his usual commentary that he did with just everyone else once she was within earshot. "Get anything good digging through the woods and such, bow girl? Obviously put a lot of effort into the dirty hippy thing." It was somewhat half hearted, compared to what the others had received thus far, simply because from what little in dealings had been done, she hadn't really reacted in any way that was remotely entertaining. He kept his eye on the others, but his stance was keeping everyone somewhere in front of him. He'd been thrown into fights due to what he'd said on more than one occasion, and it paid to keep newcomers in his line of sight until their general reaction was pinned down.

"Well... Lucas.." Sage started to say before Ethan suddenly broke in, his expression now gone serious and his tone radiating a sort of authority that everyone at the camp respected, "Until you receive a quest from Chiron, or from the gods themselves, you are not allowed to leave the camp until the end of summer, when you can return home to your parents... However, in a case such as yours, you will be here year long, until a guardian has been found, or it decided that you can survive on your own." His face then changed back to its usual, mischievous smile. "Til then, just try to enjoy yourself here and learn what you can." His grin widened at Ishmael's comment. He turned around as to leave the group. "Now, if you need me, I'll be at the Arena giving lessons. I expect to see all of you there in an hour!" After those words were said, the son of Hermes ran off, leaving the boys to their own devices.
"Well.." Sage said slowly, now that Ethan was gone, "As he said, you can't leave here until you get a quest... But, even if we did get a quest, it's not like we... Or rather, you, can just prance into the Underworld and lead your mother out.. Only a few heroes have ever attempted such a feat, and none have succeeded. Hades and his minions do not allow souls to leave their resting place, unless they try for rebirth. Anyway, it takes a lot to get a quest here.. Chiron rarely gives them out, and the gods tend to leave us alone.. Anyway, they tend to be pretty dangerous... People die or are scarred for life.. Even Ethan couldn't finish his.." Sage's voice went down to almost a hushed whisper as he got to the last bit. Then, almost as if by magic, his mood took a complete turn around to its usual peppiness. "Well, anyway! I'm sure you'll get a quest soon enough, if we train you properly. So, how about we continue with our tour and meet up with Ethan at the Arena later? I'm sure we'll enjoy the excersize, and I know the rest of the camp wants to see what you're made of... And who you really are."

Max's attention was caught by one of the boys in the group calling over to her, asking about the hunt and commenting on her rough appearance. Her brow rose slightly as she stared at him with her large blue eyes, taking a moment to pick the leaf from her pigtails, before deciding to make her way over there. When she got to the group, she found that she was the smallest, but that did not surprise her. She was always the shortest in a group and she had now become accustomed to it. She gingerly prodded Ishmael in the stomach,
"The meat for your evening meal," She reminded him, as generally the demi-gods who could hunt were used to help bring more food into the camp.

Suddenly the mood within the group seemed to grow darker as Ethan was talking about not leaving the camp unless given a quest or summer is over. She was one of the few with no homes to go back to at the end of the summer, and stayed here practically all year round. She looked quizzically at who may have made Ethan speak in such an odd tone for him, only then noticing a new person among the group. Max did hear of someone being brought in from the side of the road after battling with a minotaur, but she assumed that the kid had died. Not many at their age could fight a creature as strong and still live to tell the tale. As suddenly as the mood darkened, it seemed to lighten up again as Ethan announced his leave to the Arena, expecting everyone to be there.

Max could then turn her attention to the new person, glancing at Sage awkwardly as he broke off his sentence about Ethan and waiting for him to change the subject.
"So you survived your battle! Not bad for someone who didn't know who or what they really are." She said to Lucas, no greeting what so ever. Max looked him up and down, trying to figure out who his parent God might've been from appearance alone. It was hard to tell without seeing them in action. "I wonder how many people lost their bets," She wondered aloud, shaking her head a little; winning bets didn't really interest her that much. "I'm Max," She introduced herself simply, no mention of her parent God, no offer to shake hands either in greeting. Instead she held her hands behind her back, still assessing who this kid's parent might be.

Luke paid attention to how Ethan’s expression changed, listening intently to his words before he left, and trying his best to ignore the roaring anger in his gut that wanted to burst out and bash in Ishmael’s face in for his comment, needless to say that tugging, and roaring feeling in his gut wasn’t ever going to leave him. His face darkened again, a mask of sorrow seemingly taking the place of the hope that was there as he looked to Sage, but his face turned in the direction of the girl that Ishmael had began to call to, noticing a string of occurrence with the male in the form of slight insults for everyone, the tugging roar at his gut lessening knowing the male was just like that, as he tilted his head curious at the girl, but said nothing returning his full attention to Sage and what he had to say, hearing him say the same that Ethan and Ishmael was saying, didn’t do much for his hope, but his anger felt like it was about to burst from his body.

All three of the people he had just recently met were telling him to all but forget about his mother, though not in those terms. This was too much, his anger was roaring in his ears like the waves did during a storm, his face had to be a little red as well. Though it lessened, if just a small portion hearing how Ethan had failed at his quest; which made Lucas just a tad bit nervous, seeing as someone who was as confident as Ethan could fail, what chance did he have? Then came Sage’s optimism, he didn’t know if it was to try and put a positive note on all of this or to try and boast the mood, but right now he didn’t care. He was slightly surprised to see the girl come over, and then to mention his deed; he stared at her dumbfounded, his mind not registering her words until a few moments after she had said them. “Umm…thank you? my names Lucas” was all he could manage, though the mentioning of the bet made him shake his head. “Yeah, I’ve heard about this bet, I’m glad some people lost; cause I’m not ready to wind up dead yet” He said calmly, looking back to Sage.

“I’m ready to continue the tour, and I doubt I’ll be anything special, I got lucky with Tighty-whitey bull, nothing more” He said modestly, it hadn’t just been luck in that situation, some instinctual reflexes, and heavy bursts of anger had seemingly took the reins of his body and led him to killing the creature, but of course because of the stress put on his body he managed to pass out for three days, so yeah he really felt like a bad ass. “Sooo, Max Ishmael are you gonna join Sage in my tour? maybe tell me more about this bet, and who I’ve to watch out for now that I’ve cost some people money?” He said with a bit of anger in his tone, something he needed; he needed all the anger he could muster, because once he let that go, nothing but sorrow, nervousness and fear would be in its place, and right now? That was not an acceptable feelings. “so what’s next on the tour Sage? maybe the armory? seeing as if I’m to learn to fight I’ll need an actual weapon right?”

Ishmael chuckled as Max made her retort, shrugging at the bit about meat for the evening. "Yea, couldn't have been all that much. We'd all starve relying on that alone." He kept his arms crossed as she proceeded to introduce herself to Lucas who certainly did not look happy. That seemed to be a regular thing, from what he has seen of the boy, which would be a direct ticket to becoming oh so popular, sarcasm intended fully in the thought. Ethan had taken his comment in that happy smiling manner he always did, but one of these days there would be an angle he would get under the older boy's skin. That would be the day things went downhill, and he didn't really give that train of thought any more thought. Sage went about explaining how quests worked, and how they never occurred with any normality, and he smirked at the general thought about Ethan having failed his quest. It was good to see the oh so masterful swordsman knocked down to their level, not even he being able to finish his quest. But that was that, and he smirked as he listened to Lucas asking about either him or Max tagging along and shook his head before speaking.

"As much as it would so much fun elaborating on the bet, and making continued commentary, I've work to do at the forge. And if someone is going to be sore over losing $5 on a bet, then they've more issues than having bet on your death. I'll pay you your $5 later Sage, I'll talk to you ever so fine bastard sons and daughter of the gods later." With that he turned and walked off, having made his last jab at their general parentage, the true one at any rate. He would make some progress on Sage's project he requested that he do some work. Then, as per Ethan's ever so elegant request, he would be stuck at the arena introducing his wrench into some poor sod's groin. But it was the easiest thing in the world to do, he just kept his head down whenever possible in those situations and get back to his forge as quick as possible. He got to the cabin and went about gathering the various materials and half finished bits to keep getting things further done. It was a nice way to get away from people, as much fun as pointing out their flaws was. He got to work without really wasting time, only having maybe half an hour or so before he would have to head to the arena.

"Hello Max." Sage said as she approached them and began her introductions and appraising Lucas' skill and apparently his ability to generally survive. Of course, then came Ishmael's decision to leave them and return to whatever project had the majority of his focus for the time being, but not before revealing Sage's part in the bet and making a nice, snide remark over their general parentage. "I'm sure you will. Let me know if you need more materials." He said loud enough for Ishmael to hear as he walked away. "Well," He started as he turned back to Max and Lucas, "I suppose we should continue on with our tour, and as you've requested, hit up the armoury for a weapon or two for you. It would be a bad idea to show up at the arena unprepared. Ethan tends to be kinda harsh about that... Max, you're welcome to come along if you want."

With that he turned away from the cabins and walked off towards what they called the arena, which was really just a large circle surrounded by marble columns, filled with various areas for weapons practices. There were dummies in armor, archery targets, and a few constructs made to look like monsters, which had already been chewed up pretty badly by the campers. Sage led them towards a decent sized shack, the doors to which hung wide open. Inside was an unbelievably large collection of weapons made of some sort of bronze that emitted a faint glow. On one side of the shack hung three short swords, chained to the wall. Each of their blades were pitch black. Sage stopped before the doors and turned around. "Alright, take what you want... But don't try to take the black ones. Touching them may kill you."

Max's smile faultered as she heard Ishmael's retort to her comment, though made no effort to reply. He knew what she had meant, she was only contributing and he was being pedantic about it.
"$5 isn't a serious bet," she muttered as Ishmael took his leave, arms folding as she watching stalk off back to his cabin again, Sage calling after him about materials. She turned her attention back to the other boys as she was invited along to Lucas's tour of the camp. Well she couldn't expect Sage to do all the question answering that there was bound to be on this tour. They didn't have long before they were supposed to be in the Arena, and Lucas seemed to be anxious to find himself a weapon pretty soon. Smart kid. There would be plenty of time to show him around the place later. The armoury was probably the best place to start and it was possibly one of her favourite places within camp, other than the vast forests that surrounded them.

She took stride beside Lucas as Sage seemed to lead the way to the Arena and the shack that they called the armoury.
"So do you remember much of what happened with the minatour?" She asked, wondering if his injuries had affected his recollection of the evening at all. It would've been nice to hear what actually happened to him as well, rather than the stories she had heard from other members of the camp.

When they reached the shack of weapons, she couldn't help but wander off a little to explore the weapons more herself. Even if she had a bow of her own that was specially crafted, she was still interested in the vast array that was supplied in this one small space. She would take a blade from where it was hung every so often, testing its weight and observing its condition. Max would then check where the boys were, not straying too far as she wanted to see what kind of weapon Lucas would choose for himself.

He followed Sage in silence his heart feeling heavy, and for once his ADHD mind was silent of everything, upon reaching the armory his eyes lit up at the sight of all the beautiful weapons, though oddly glowing, but he didn’t care all of them here, and he got to choose! He smiled like a kid in a candy store as he looked around picking up a dagger here, or a sword there. The only thing about each one he picked up, was that the balance felt off. He didn’t figure it mattered right now, with all the things he’d seen so far just having one, or two would be a comfort. He picked up a regular Greek short sword, and a dagger giving them both a twirl in each hand. “I’ll take these..” He said swapping the sword to his right and the dagger to his left, the dagger feeling more balanced in his main hand then the sword. Then came Max’s question which he stopped and stared at the ground, trying his best to remember; as if there was a block in his memory that wasn’t about to break. “I remember…” He paused gathering a breath, “I remember the car exploding from a lightning strike and being thrown from it.” He paused once more working his mind to remember the rest. “Then, with a flash of lightning I could see it clearly, it well, looked like a giant hairy guy in tightey whites to be honest..” He said with a nervous laugh, “anyways, the next thing I know is it’s strangling my mother, she turns to gold dust, and I’m charging it with no weapon whatsoever, the next thing I remember is I’m on it’s back holding onto it’s horns for dear life!” He frowned a little, knowing there was just one more thing he could focus on. “Then I remember breaking off one of it’s horns and jabbing it through it’s face..”

He had finished his story and blinked away a couple of tears from the part of his mother before shrugging. “I remember having to drag him towards that big blue house too; then nothing” He said with a shrug of his shoulder twirling the sword and dagger again. Though before anything else could be said, a man in wheelchair, someone Lucas instantly recognized. “Mr. Bruner?” He questioned, the older man smiling from his wheelchair. “Yes, well here I prefer to be called Chiron, Sage, Max” He gave them each a nod, and a smile in turn. “Come Lucas, Though I do not doubt the talent of your two tour guides here, they must get ready for sword practice with Ethan so come along” The man said before turning his wheelchair and moving off along the path away from the Armory. “um…see you guys later?” His words seemingly coming out in the form of a question, as he walked quickly to catch up with the man, leaving two of the only three people he knew at the camp behind.

“So, young one do you remember what happened on that field trip?” Chiron asked, looking to his side at Lucas. “So that pen you tossed me did turn into a sword and I did cut Mrs. Dodds in half!” He exclaimed, “Why did you and Sage lie to me about that?” He questioned feeling a little hurt knowing his favorite teacher at Yancy at looked right in his eyes and lied. “It was better you didn’t know who, or better what you were; if you had known, it would have been like a sign to all the nearby monsters, and something far worse could have happened.” Chiron said as he stopped his wheelchair, Lucas sighed softly coming to a halt as well standing there, his eyes catching sight of a strawberry field and kids tending it; well more like making the strawberries grow at rapid speed, curious but not going to bring it up he turned to Chiron. “You mean like a Minotaur choking my mother to dust and my step-dad’s car exploding with us in it?” He questioned with angry eyes, causing the old centaur to frown slightly. “No.. something far worse my young friend..” So many questions stormed Lucas’ mind, so many that he knew he wouldn’t be able to ask them all and make sense of it in one day. Chiron gave him a knowing glance, realizing, almost reading his mind as it were. “Lucas’ I know what you’re thinking, and how many questions you must have, I promise that they will be answered in due time, but for now! go have fun at swordsmanship practice, I will see you at dinner!” Chiron propelled his wheelchair forward but stopping his short and smiling as he turned it around. “Oh and before I forget here” He tossed him that same exact pen he had been given that day at the museum. “Hey but this is” His sentence cut short as the Centaur in a wheelchair moved off towards the big blue house, leaving Lucas alone on the path staring down at the pen in his hand.

Though it took him a bit he made it back to the arena, having put the sword he had got from the armory back where it belonged, before walking inside. He looked around, thinking he would find Ethan, or maybe his new friends here, but alas it seemed he was the only one here, so with a shrug, and uncapping the pen; and drawing the dagger now in his right hand, he began to gingerly practice on a dummy, at least until his friends showed up.

Ishmael hadn't heard Max's comment or saw the brief falter in the ever present smile that she generally displayed, so he didn't have a off thought in his mind as he went to work at the forge, hammering away at the project that Sage had given him to do. It was making very good progress, all things considered, and hadn't proven anything he couldn't handle thus far. It was certainly unique material, and he was going to end up using most of it in the work at hand. But he would have a bit left over, which he would stash away for either modifying the weapon or adding some extra bite to another project he would work on in the future. All he knew was it was a pain in the ass to work with at the best of time, as he was still working on the various basic framework and large bits to the project. Of course Sage wanted something this complex, why he bothered humoring the son of the dead man's lord was beyond him. But here he was, still slaving away at the forge and anvil, hammering and forging each metal piece into its correct form. This was far from done after that, assembly would have to wait many moons. It was during a break between forgings that he noticed it was all but time to head to the mandatory arena match, and as usual, he was practically running late.

Scowling, Ishmael made sure a certain key was on his person and cleaned up briefly, brushing off the metal shavings from the rods, and left the cabin. He moved at a brisk walk, arriving at the arena in relatively short order. Lucas was there, practicing at one of the numerous dummies that were set up for people to attack. He spent as little time in the arena as humanly possible, he generally had more interesting or important things then playing warrior. One more reason he insisted on sticking with his weapon of choice, if you could call it that. The key itself grew into a full sized monkey wrench, and people had stopped laughing at it, despite its lack of elegance or reach. After giving several people severe concussions, they understood the brute force worked well for the boy. That, and it fit his rather lacking social graces, being rather blunt about things, and not terribly nice to boot. But he didn't head to any of the dummies to start smashing away at it with the wrench, instead finding a nice shady spot to relax for the time being. One more way he went about trying to get on Ethan's nerves, really. He observed Lucas training, and the entrance for the others he bothered to deal with on a regular basis.

"Well, he seems hard at work." Sage said from behind Ishmael, who'd set down in one of the shadier spots in the arena where he could watch Lucas practice in comfort. He himself had been watching Lucas hack and slash at the dummy, wincing every so often as he left a wide opening after each attack. "I think Ethan is going to have fun with him..." Sure enoughm, as soon as he finished that statement Ethan walked into the arena, trailing ten or twelve kids behind him, all of which appeared to be from the eleventh cabin, members of the Hermes cabin. All of them had mischievous grins on their faces, quite unlike the usual look they brought into arena, knowing they were about to be thoroughly whipped by Ethan. They'd most likely come to see him go against the new kid who'd slain the minotaur... Or maybe they were just looking forward to seeing the new kid get thrashed.

"Alright, alright!" Ethan started as he walked into the center of a large ring that was slowly being surrounded by the campers who'd followed him, "Everyone who's here, join the circle and draw your weapons! We're going to play 'King of the Ring'!" As soon as that collecting of words left his mouth, a loud groan filled the area, coming from each and every one of the campers surrounding him. "Since we have some one new, I'll explain the rules! One boy or girl stays in the circle and challenges each person around the circle, in clockwise order, and fights them until either one submits or is disarmed. The victor stays in the circle and takes on the next challenger. Simple enough?!" Again, another unified groan.

"Well, we better get over there, eh?" Sage said to Ishmael before pulling a cross shaped ring from his finger. As soon as the band of metal was removed from his finger, it shifted into the form of a pitch black long sword with a silver crossguard and pommel. In the center of the blade was the silver silhouette of a key. Now that his weapon was drawn, Sage joined the circle, taking his spot around the middle as Ethan called out his next bit of directions.
"Alright, I'll take the first turn in the circle.. And," He said as he turned around to where Lucas was currently playing with a dummy, "The new kid will be the first challenger!" With those words said, he ripped his sword from the sheathe at his side, the metal screaming its challenge as it left its home.

Max began listening to Lucas's tale of what had happened the night he fought the minatour, watching as he picked two blades up from the racks. It was a rather bewildering story, as most are with attacks from monsters, though after Lucas mentioned his mother being strangled all his words seemed to fade into the background. Memories of her own mother's death flooded back into her mind, taking precedence over Lucas's story. It would appear like she was still listening as she turned her gaze back to the blade in her hands, though she hadn't caught the last of it.

So your mother died too... Her minds voice spoke, sad for the boy. She knew what that felt like. Max didn't want to remember what happened that day, and she was glad that should could only remember parts of it anyway. She had always figured she must've blacked out during the attack. Hearing Chiron say her name, she looked up from the blade at the man in the wheelchair who had broke through her chain of thought, her widened eyes telling him so. She gingerly nodded in return to the man's greeting, letting him lead Lucas away. Sage soon disappeared after them, leaving her in the shack alone with the sword. Sucking in a deep breath, she hung the sword back where she had found it and also made her way outside. She followed the path around the edge of the Arena, slowing to a stop at the edge of a large body of water that set the scene behind the Arena when emerging from the main path. Max stared out over the water, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her black hooded jacket as the memories surfaced again.

She could feel the icy cold water against her skin as she had tumbled under the surface that fateful night, feeling how she had gasped for air though water filled her lungs and she was seeing stars before her eyes. She could feel something grasping at her ankle, dragging her down, though it had been night time and so she couldn't see her attacker. Her gaze reached for the surface, feebly wishing the light of the moon to stop fading as her consciousness began to slip. Before the darkness completely took hold she saw a figure diving towards her, long strands of hair dancing elegantly round the figure as she reached out to it, trying to reach the hand that was outstretched for her. Then she remembered waking up in a fit of coughs at the edge of the water, the coo of an american voice in her ear trying to reassure her that she was safe and fine. The man's grip on her arm told her otherwise and she had squirmed in the man's grasp till she realised it was James, her mothers friend who had been helping them in their journey to the camp. Before she had a chance to ask what had happened to her mother, James had pulled her to her feet and they stumbled back to James's car.

He explained what had happened once they were on the road again, but Max couldn't bring herself to utter a word about the matter. She had spent the rest of the journey in tears, in silence or asleep from exhaustion. When she first started at Camp Half-Blood, she was still silent. It had taken her a couple of weeks to become accustomed to what had happened, though she would not go near the edge of the water by the Arena. Even with the wards, she never believed she was safe in large bodies of water. Chiron understood the reasoning, the situation having been explained to him by James. Eventually she took to the idea of being a part of this new way of life, though she had never spoken of that night to anyone, not even Chiron himself. When she had started to learn more about the Gods, she started to dislike her father, dislike soon grew to a minor form of hatred. She could not possibly hate someone she had never met, but she could certainly blame him for her mother's death: which she did every day.

"Max!" She heard her name called from one of the kids that were gathering in the circle around Ethan as the swordsman games were beginning. Thankful again for another distraction, she turned away from the water, glad to be away from the water as she made her way over to the group. She slid the bow over her head and held it loosely in her hands as the circle formed around Ethan, who announced they were playing King of the Ring. She stayed quiet as most others in the circle moaned, just wanting to get on with it already. She looked over at Lucas, who had unfortunately been picked first. It wasn't exactly fair, but it wasn't unexpected either. She hadn't noticed him beating up one of the dummies earlier, and so was interested to see how well he could actually fight. He had be able to do something decent, if he was able to kill a minatour unarmed.

“Yeah…I’m so dead” He thought to himself, hearing the rules and then the fact he went first. He might as well throw in the towel now, at least if he had come near last he might have stood a rookies chance being fresh and all, but being first up he might was well run like a coward. He took a deep breath clearing his head of the thoughts of trying to talk his way out of it, placing the dagger back in its sheath at his hip, he held Riptide in both hands glancing down at the blade ever so slightly; almost in a silent prayer. He then turned his attention to his new friends, Ishmael seemed to be lazing about, Sage already joining the circle and Max. “Well this is just great, everyone’s here to see the kid that killed the minotaur get his butt handed to the camp badass..” He sighed at that thought, “well time to take my thrashing, and hopefully walk away with some sort of dignity intact”

His thoughts now put on the back-burner, judging the balance of his sword, and then without a thought, relying purely on his own reflexes, and doing something no swordsman did unless under the influence of extreme emotion; or alcohol; he charged in, going for a complete newbie like move of a running lunge, doubting his blade would make any contact at all, more likely it was Ethan would side-step and he’d take a mouthful of sand as punishment for such an obvious attack.

"Oh, that's going to cost him..." Sage said from his position in the ring as Lucas made for his suicide lunge. There really couldn't have been a worse move to choose against Ethan, who was by far the best swordsman to grace the camp in over a century. As soon as Lucas' feet passed into the ring, the line that formed the ring began to glow.
"αμβλύνουν λεπίδες μας" The words came from Ethan as he brought his sword up in front of him, honoring Lucas even as he charged. Light surrounded their weapons for a brief second and an invisible force coated the edges of their weapons, making it impossible for them to truly maim each other. "First lesson!" Ethan shouted as he sidestepped the charge with grace. "Never charge in blindly!" With those words said, he whipped his sword around and hit Lucas in the rear with the flat of the blade.
"You should analyze your opponent and remain calm. Find their weaknesses and exploit them." Ethan brought his sword back to his front again in a guarding position, ready for whatever attack Lucas might throw at him.

A slight yelp came from Lucas’ throat, and heat began to flow throughout his face as he blushed, realizing he had just made an utter fool of himself, with that charge and that yelp. He turned to face Ethan once again, hearing his words, but feeling a slight bit of anger in being made a fool of. He had learned a lesson now, charging in blindly was idiotic, but he didn’t really know what else to do; with a quiet sigh and angry thoughts at himself, he lifted the sword again, this time with an over-head swing straight for Ethan’s shoulder, if anything he just hoped this would be over soon, and that he could possibly walk away from it, without being unable to sit down, that would be nice. His ears picking up slight snickering in the crowd, letting him know that they were enjoying his thrashing, and with that once again another mistake; he wasn’t focusing on his attack.

Ishmael shrugged a bit as Sage made a comment about Lucas being hard at work. "So it seems dead boy, but hey, if he really went and murdered some oversized goat headed freak of nature, who knows." He had also noted the apparent idea he had gone and murdered some minotaur than hey, good for him. He took a place in the circle as Sage stood, producing that sword of his and walking towards it, slipping a rusty key out of his pocket. It shapeshifted into his weapon of choice, a wrench and he took his place formally, near one of the edges of the ring. It was the pit fighting thing, and he didn't bother moaning like the rest of the camp did. He was not the honorable fighter that the vast majority of camp members were, or the ranged folks that could dance out of reach of swords and such, but he could hold his own. He was quietly glad for the wrench as the thing gifted to him, it was a tool as much as anything else. Ethan drew his blade, Lucas the first fighter of course. What a shocker, son of Hermes off to steal the glory again. Befitting his parentage, really.

Lucas charged blindly, getting spanked and missing completely. What a brilliant swordsman there, he couldn't help but think. Blindly charge someone who was already named one of the best bladesman in the camp and expect to land anything that way. He was smirking as he watched the current fight, Ethan having of course showing up Lucas in the first blow, as his thoughts had previously wandered by. He muttered, audible to those near him, but not actually making loud commentary. "For killing a minotaur, bastard son of an unnamed god isn't doing shit to impress here." Ishmael was keeping the smirk on his face as he watched, not snickering just yet, although a few others had started. No fun really laughing at someone outclassed like this, unless it got better then the odd swatting blow to the rear and actual instruction through combat.

Max watched with unease as Lucas made an obvious first move, being punished by Ethan and humiliated by the murmurs of the crowd around them. Ethan was at least giving some advise, where as the kids around the duo just mocked Lucas. She glanced at a couple of snickering boys beside her, tapping the nearest on the front with her bow with a sharp 'shh'.
"And your first day was any better?" She reminded them, seemingly silencing them with reminders of their first battle when joining the Camp. Others didn't seem to have heard her, though she wasn't expecting to shut everyone up. She would probably get teased later for sticking up for the new kid. Not that she cared. Max turned her gaze back to the battle, watching as Lucas prepare for another assault. Another obvious move that the crowd were going to enjoy, even more as Ethan would no doubt take advantage of Lucas faltering mid-attack.