Dining Hall - Early Afternoon - Humid
Amalthea von Kreuz
Amalthea couldn't keep the smile off of her face. She was excited about the results of the written exams they took last month. Of course, they took the exams after their mission, and Amalthea had been extremely tired that day, however; she was excited to know how she did. The results had not been released yet, and she assumed that they were going to do it after classes, or after their lunch period. She supposed she could wait until then, however; she was looking forward to eating lunch with her friends. They didn't often sit together during their break, mostly because they were either busy studying at the library during this time, or getting some practice in.
Since they no longer needed to do that, Amalthea had suggested they meet in the dining hall for lunch. She grabbed a plate of the day's special, dried plums and fried gar, and happily made her way towards a table. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Professor Jeritza, and tilted her head curiously. He was hardly in the dinning hall; she assumed it was because there was always a lot of people. Thinking nothing much of it, she waved in his direction and made her way to a table, waiting for the others to appear. Mercer was the first, strangely enough, and he grinned at her, plate in hand as he set it down next to her.
“Hey, Thea," he greeted as she smiled at him. “Waiting for the others, I take it?" he continued. She nodded in response and hummed softly.
“You're the first one, here," she replied, watching as his grin shifted into something more mischievous.
“Lucky me, that means I get the best spot right next to you," he stated, bumping his shoulder into hers. She giggled softly at his statement. Sometimes he said the strangest things, but she didn't mind. They weren't enough to make her blush, at least.
Professor Cyril was next to arrive. As with the certifications the month before, he'd had to take these exams too, just to get caught up to speed with the Academy's other professors. He picked up a tray as well, exchanging several words with the head chef, who smiled brightly at him for some reason that Amalthea couldn't discern.
Making his way over to them, he took the seat across, giving them both a small nod. “Thea, Mercer. Excited for your results?"
Amalthea nodded her head at Professor, and hurriedly swallowed the plum that was in her mouth. “I am!" she stated, coughing lightly. She choked a little at the end of it, but managed to recover well-enough. “I'm a little nervous, too. I'm either going to be classified as an armored knight, or..." she pursed her lips together as she frowned, “I might have to take the exams again. I think I did well-enough, though, that I might have passed! What about you, Merc?"
“Hm, well, all things considered, I think I did really well. Written exams are way easier than the physical ones. They require less work," he replied, grinning in Amalthea's direction. She supposed that was true, but they did require a lot of studying. Didn't that count as work?
The Professor regarded Mercer with a slightly-raised eyebrow, but ultimately didn't offer comment on that. “I happen to have been given the results," he said. “For my class at least. I checked with the others, too, so I know how everyone in our Saturday group did. I thought perhaps we might wait and see who comes to lunch, so we could all discuss it then. I'd like to try something in advance of this month's mission if you're all so inclined."
No doubt if some of them had passed, they'd need to work on additional strategy to accommodate the fact that some people would be mounted, others flying, and so on.
It was at this point that Vridel appeared, visible first as a white spot in the corner of her eye. His hair really was easy to spot, even from all the way across a room. He took up a tray and the spot next to the Professor, frowning slightly.
“Not to suggest that you have a second unwelcome admirer, Professor, but Professor Jeritza is watching you."
“I know," Cyril said. “I believe he wants a duel."
Amalthea blinked in a confused manner. Professor Cyril had admirers? Unwelcomed or welcomed, she supposed that made sense. Professor Cyril was a handsome person, not as handsome as Vridel, of course, but nonetheless. She cleared her throat awkwardly, at best, and nodded her head. “I suppose that makes sense. We can wait a little longer for the others to arrive," she stated, earning a raised brow from Mercer. He seemed curious about something, but Amalthea refused to glance his way.
“Hopefully you have not waited long," Senka spoke, taking a seat next to Professor. It left little room for anyone else, and the next person either had to sit next to Mercer, or on Amalthea's other side. And Amalthea knew Sorcha was never far from where Senka was. “Has anyone received their results, yet?" she asked, apparently missing Professor's earlier statement.
“Nope, we're just waiting on everyone else. Teach, here, has our results so we're mostly just playing the waiting game, now," Mercer answered with a light shrug of his shoulders. Senka seemed satisfied with the answer as she huffed lightly and nodded her head.
Sorcha was indeed the next to arrive, looking slightly surprised when there was nowhere to sit next to Senka, perhaps. She hesitated a moment, then sat on the other side of Mercer with a soft hello to him, glancing around the table. “Sylvi and Devon send their apologies," she said, mostly speaking to Amathea, it seemed. “He has dish duty in the kitchen and she apparently needed to write her dad a letter about something right away. It seemed kind of urgent."
“Reynard's fishing," Vridel added, as if just remembering it. “He said he already knows what his results are, but thanks for checking for him, Professor." It was apparently unsurprising to him both that Cyril had checked and that Reynard already knew the fact.
“Aw, I was hoping everyone would be here," Amalthea murmured, furrowing her brows lightly. She supposed that it couldn't be helped, though. At least Sylvi and Devon would know later on in the day when they returned to class. “We'll just have to tell them when we go back," she stated happily. Mercer huffed lightly in his spoon, but didn't say anything. Senka glanced at Sorcha for a moment before she began pushing on her dried plums with her fork. It almost looked like she was either playing with them, or not at all hungry.
“So, Teach, how'd we do?" Mercer finally asked, glancing in Professor's direction.
“You all passed, of course," Cyril replied simply. “I wouldn't have wanted to tell you publicly if you hadn't. Everyone in the Saturday group has the classification they applied for. Including me, actually. I qualify as a grappler, now." That was a level above where they'd all tested into, but that made sense, of course. The Professor was an experienced mercenary, after all.
“Exellent," murmured Vridel. He'd actually taken exams for both the mercenary and mage classes, Amalthea knew, being unable to decide between the two. It had been rather a lot of studying; lots of times when the others had left for the night, he'd remained to keep at it. He always seemed to do things like that: like no matter what, there wasn't enough time for everything he wanted.
Sorcha, on the other hand, grinned brightly, a rare sight these days, and nudged Mercer with her elbow. “I guess this means we can apply to have Sir and Lady officially assigned to us," she said, referring to the wyvern and pegasus they'd taken to.
“Yep. We should probably do that as soon as possible. I mean, not like anyone else will put in for them, but the sooner the better, right?" Mercer spoke as he grinned in Sorcha's direction. He turned towards Senka, though, and tilted his head. One of those rare smiles Senka had, bloomed on her face as she heard the results. “You applied for cavalier, right? Did you decide on a mount, too?" he asked her. She nodded as her way of response.
“Libi," she replied, the smile still on her face. “His name is Libi," she seemed to clarify even though they knew what she was referring to. Amalthea, however, had a large smile on her face, and she couldn't resist the urge to do a little twirl. Since she was sitting, though, she opted for an excited giggle.
“I'm gonna be an armored knight! I can't wait to tell Lyanna!" she stated, bouncing a little in her seat.
“Congratulations," the Professor told her, before shifting his attention to the others. “All of you. Don't forget to pick up all the equipment they're issuing you. That'll be steel weapons for some of you, uniforms, and the like. Thea, you'll want to make sure to get them your measurements as soon as possible so you can have armor and a shield fitted accordingly. Piecemeal might be fine for practice, but you should have a full set for the actual field. We're not sure what we're up against this time, so everyone should be prepared."
Though that note was a little solemn, he seemed to relax a moment later. “As for what I was hoping to try—I thought it might make sense to reorganize ourselves a little. I want to try a battle-partners system. Obviously there will be times when we need to split up, but if you can all get used to working in minimal units of two, it should better our odds of success. It will take some extra work—I'll want to run each pair through extra drills, and since some of you aren't Blue Lions I won't be able to use class time for it. So it's only if you're willing."
“I don't see why that should be a problem. We don't have the exams or certs to study for, any longer, so we can use the days after our chores, or even Sundays as those days to practice," Mercer seemed to suggest. Amalthea nodded her head in agreement, and she knew Professor was right. The sooner she gave her measurements to the armorer, the sooner she could have her armor fitted to her, and she could train with it. She would have to get used to it, as with anything new that came there way.
“What is the mission, anyway, Teach? You said we're not sure what we're up against. What does Lady Rhea have us doing, now?" Mercer inquired. Amalthea would admit that she was curious. They hadn't been told their mission, yet.
“Apparently some sort of wild animal or creature is causing trouble in the Duscur region," he said quietly. “The exact nature of it is unclear from the reports. It's one of the reasons I want to start this strategy now: we don't know what we're up against, and so we need tactics that are good for most anything."
Sorcha chewed over a bite, looking at Senka with wide eyes.
The smile had disappeared from Senka's face, and she was staring intently at her plate. Amalthea didn't quite know why she seemed so upset. Senka was from Faerghus with Almyran ties, did she have some ties to the Duscur region, as well? “Hey, Sen, you alright?" Mercer was the first to speak, pursing his lips in her direction. She didn't regard him, and merely continued staring at her plate. She stood abruptly, though, grabbed her plate, and left without saying a word.
“Senka!" Amalthea called after her, but she was gone before anyone else could stop her. “I hope she's alright. Sorcha," she stated, turning towards Sorcha. “Is she alright? She looked... pale, almost." Sorcha must have known something, right? She and Senka were best friends, after all. She'd certainly known Senka longer than anyone at the table.
“Probably not," Sorcha said quietly. “Excuse me, everyone; I'm going to go talk to her."
“I'll take care of your tray," Vridel said with a small nod. Sorcha returned it before jogging off after Senka.
Cyril looked perhaps more troubled than Amalthea had ever seen him: his brow was furrowed, and a look of something akin to guilt crossed his face. “Perhaps I should have mentioned it to her first," he said lowly.
Amalthea was vaguely confused. Why would the professor have to mention it to Senka, first? She sighed, though, and shook her head. If there was a reason, she was certain Senka would tell them, eventually. They were all friends, right? Amalthea had even told them as such, if they needed someone to talk to, they could talk to her.
“She'll be fine, Thea. Don't worry too much about it. She has her best friend looking after her right now. She maybe has an upset stomach from the food she was playing with," Mercer stated as if trying to provide a reason. Amalthea didn't quite believe him, but she wasn't going to push the issue any further.
“Well, we should probably start planning our practice sessions, then. How about, we start them next Saturday after chores?" she suggested. Mercer groaned lightly.
“How about next Sunday? I'm still kind of sore from the last mission, you know," Mercer replied, grinning lightly.
“You barely did anything," Vridel groused.
“Hm, that may be true, but I did save your ass a couple of times with arrows, you know. Those aren't as easy as they look to pull back."
Amalthea rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Professor. “When do you think we should start, Professor? You're the one who will be training us, after all."
“Saturday might be preferable," he said. His tone was distant, as though he were still distracted by something. “As I believe the Sunday is an exchange day, yes?" He glanced up at her then, clearly referring to the cultural exchanges the others were doing to help her learn more about the outside world.
“Oh, that's right. I forgot," she replied. She seemed to forget things like that. It's not like they weren't important to her, because they were. She supposed her mind was on other things... other people. And she could feel a blush burning her cheeks. Mercer must have noticed as he grinned in her direction.
“Oh? Pleasant thought, there, Thea? Maybe... about something, or someone in particular?" Mercer spoke. Amalthea pursed her lips.
“You hush, Mercer von Riegan," she replied, puffing her cheeks out in his direction.
Vridel snorted softly. “And now the lady's said so. No gentleman could refuse, Mercer. So are you going to shut up or prove yourself a cad? Decisions, decisions." Though the words could be interpreted as harsh, he seemed to mean them in a friendly sort of way, if his light tone was anything to go by.
“Hm, indeed. Decisions, decisions. Guess I'm not as much of a gentleman as you thought," he replied, grinning in Amalthea's direction. At that moment, she wished she had a fish to throw at him.
Since they no longer needed to do that, Amalthea had suggested they meet in the dining hall for lunch. She grabbed a plate of the day's special, dried plums and fried gar, and happily made her way towards a table. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Professor Jeritza, and tilted her head curiously. He was hardly in the dinning hall; she assumed it was because there was always a lot of people. Thinking nothing much of it, she waved in his direction and made her way to a table, waiting for the others to appear. Mercer was the first, strangely enough, and he grinned at her, plate in hand as he set it down next to her.
“Hey, Thea," he greeted as she smiled at him. “Waiting for the others, I take it?" he continued. She nodded in response and hummed softly.
“You're the first one, here," she replied, watching as his grin shifted into something more mischievous.
“Lucky me, that means I get the best spot right next to you," he stated, bumping his shoulder into hers. She giggled softly at his statement. Sometimes he said the strangest things, but she didn't mind. They weren't enough to make her blush, at least.
Professor Cyril was next to arrive. As with the certifications the month before, he'd had to take these exams too, just to get caught up to speed with the Academy's other professors. He picked up a tray as well, exchanging several words with the head chef, who smiled brightly at him for some reason that Amalthea couldn't discern.
Making his way over to them, he took the seat across, giving them both a small nod. “Thea, Mercer. Excited for your results?"
Amalthea nodded her head at Professor, and hurriedly swallowed the plum that was in her mouth. “I am!" she stated, coughing lightly. She choked a little at the end of it, but managed to recover well-enough. “I'm a little nervous, too. I'm either going to be classified as an armored knight, or..." she pursed her lips together as she frowned, “I might have to take the exams again. I think I did well-enough, though, that I might have passed! What about you, Merc?"
“Hm, well, all things considered, I think I did really well. Written exams are way easier than the physical ones. They require less work," he replied, grinning in Amalthea's direction. She supposed that was true, but they did require a lot of studying. Didn't that count as work?
The Professor regarded Mercer with a slightly-raised eyebrow, but ultimately didn't offer comment on that. “I happen to have been given the results," he said. “For my class at least. I checked with the others, too, so I know how everyone in our Saturday group did. I thought perhaps we might wait and see who comes to lunch, so we could all discuss it then. I'd like to try something in advance of this month's mission if you're all so inclined."
No doubt if some of them had passed, they'd need to work on additional strategy to accommodate the fact that some people would be mounted, others flying, and so on.
It was at this point that Vridel appeared, visible first as a white spot in the corner of her eye. His hair really was easy to spot, even from all the way across a room. He took up a tray and the spot next to the Professor, frowning slightly.
“Not to suggest that you have a second unwelcome admirer, Professor, but Professor Jeritza is watching you."
“I know," Cyril said. “I believe he wants a duel."
Amalthea blinked in a confused manner. Professor Cyril had admirers? Unwelcomed or welcomed, she supposed that made sense. Professor Cyril was a handsome person, not as handsome as Vridel, of course, but nonetheless. She cleared her throat awkwardly, at best, and nodded her head. “I suppose that makes sense. We can wait a little longer for the others to arrive," she stated, earning a raised brow from Mercer. He seemed curious about something, but Amalthea refused to glance his way.
“Hopefully you have not waited long," Senka spoke, taking a seat next to Professor. It left little room for anyone else, and the next person either had to sit next to Mercer, or on Amalthea's other side. And Amalthea knew Sorcha was never far from where Senka was. “Has anyone received their results, yet?" she asked, apparently missing Professor's earlier statement.
“Nope, we're just waiting on everyone else. Teach, here, has our results so we're mostly just playing the waiting game, now," Mercer answered with a light shrug of his shoulders. Senka seemed satisfied with the answer as she huffed lightly and nodded her head.
Sorcha was indeed the next to arrive, looking slightly surprised when there was nowhere to sit next to Senka, perhaps. She hesitated a moment, then sat on the other side of Mercer with a soft hello to him, glancing around the table. “Sylvi and Devon send their apologies," she said, mostly speaking to Amathea, it seemed. “He has dish duty in the kitchen and she apparently needed to write her dad a letter about something right away. It seemed kind of urgent."
“Reynard's fishing," Vridel added, as if just remembering it. “He said he already knows what his results are, but thanks for checking for him, Professor." It was apparently unsurprising to him both that Cyril had checked and that Reynard already knew the fact.
“Aw, I was hoping everyone would be here," Amalthea murmured, furrowing her brows lightly. She supposed that it couldn't be helped, though. At least Sylvi and Devon would know later on in the day when they returned to class. “We'll just have to tell them when we go back," she stated happily. Mercer huffed lightly in his spoon, but didn't say anything. Senka glanced at Sorcha for a moment before she began pushing on her dried plums with her fork. It almost looked like she was either playing with them, or not at all hungry.
“So, Teach, how'd we do?" Mercer finally asked, glancing in Professor's direction.
“You all passed, of course," Cyril replied simply. “I wouldn't have wanted to tell you publicly if you hadn't. Everyone in the Saturday group has the classification they applied for. Including me, actually. I qualify as a grappler, now." That was a level above where they'd all tested into, but that made sense, of course. The Professor was an experienced mercenary, after all.
“Exellent," murmured Vridel. He'd actually taken exams for both the mercenary and mage classes, Amalthea knew, being unable to decide between the two. It had been rather a lot of studying; lots of times when the others had left for the night, he'd remained to keep at it. He always seemed to do things like that: like no matter what, there wasn't enough time for everything he wanted.
Sorcha, on the other hand, grinned brightly, a rare sight these days, and nudged Mercer with her elbow. “I guess this means we can apply to have Sir and Lady officially assigned to us," she said, referring to the wyvern and pegasus they'd taken to.
“Yep. We should probably do that as soon as possible. I mean, not like anyone else will put in for them, but the sooner the better, right?" Mercer spoke as he grinned in Sorcha's direction. He turned towards Senka, though, and tilted his head. One of those rare smiles Senka had, bloomed on her face as she heard the results. “You applied for cavalier, right? Did you decide on a mount, too?" he asked her. She nodded as her way of response.
“Libi," she replied, the smile still on her face. “His name is Libi," she seemed to clarify even though they knew what she was referring to. Amalthea, however, had a large smile on her face, and she couldn't resist the urge to do a little twirl. Since she was sitting, though, she opted for an excited giggle.
“I'm gonna be an armored knight! I can't wait to tell Lyanna!" she stated, bouncing a little in her seat.
“Congratulations," the Professor told her, before shifting his attention to the others. “All of you. Don't forget to pick up all the equipment they're issuing you. That'll be steel weapons for some of you, uniforms, and the like. Thea, you'll want to make sure to get them your measurements as soon as possible so you can have armor and a shield fitted accordingly. Piecemeal might be fine for practice, but you should have a full set for the actual field. We're not sure what we're up against this time, so everyone should be prepared."
Though that note was a little solemn, he seemed to relax a moment later. “As for what I was hoping to try—I thought it might make sense to reorganize ourselves a little. I want to try a battle-partners system. Obviously there will be times when we need to split up, but if you can all get used to working in minimal units of two, it should better our odds of success. It will take some extra work—I'll want to run each pair through extra drills, and since some of you aren't Blue Lions I won't be able to use class time for it. So it's only if you're willing."
“I don't see why that should be a problem. We don't have the exams or certs to study for, any longer, so we can use the days after our chores, or even Sundays as those days to practice," Mercer seemed to suggest. Amalthea nodded her head in agreement, and she knew Professor was right. The sooner she gave her measurements to the armorer, the sooner she could have her armor fitted to her, and she could train with it. She would have to get used to it, as with anything new that came there way.
“What is the mission, anyway, Teach? You said we're not sure what we're up against. What does Lady Rhea have us doing, now?" Mercer inquired. Amalthea would admit that she was curious. They hadn't been told their mission, yet.
“Apparently some sort of wild animal or creature is causing trouble in the Duscur region," he said quietly. “The exact nature of it is unclear from the reports. It's one of the reasons I want to start this strategy now: we don't know what we're up against, and so we need tactics that are good for most anything."
Sorcha chewed over a bite, looking at Senka with wide eyes.
The smile had disappeared from Senka's face, and she was staring intently at her plate. Amalthea didn't quite know why she seemed so upset. Senka was from Faerghus with Almyran ties, did she have some ties to the Duscur region, as well? “Hey, Sen, you alright?" Mercer was the first to speak, pursing his lips in her direction. She didn't regard him, and merely continued staring at her plate. She stood abruptly, though, grabbed her plate, and left without saying a word.
“Senka!" Amalthea called after her, but she was gone before anyone else could stop her. “I hope she's alright. Sorcha," she stated, turning towards Sorcha. “Is she alright? She looked... pale, almost." Sorcha must have known something, right? She and Senka were best friends, after all. She'd certainly known Senka longer than anyone at the table.
“Probably not," Sorcha said quietly. “Excuse me, everyone; I'm going to go talk to her."
“I'll take care of your tray," Vridel said with a small nod. Sorcha returned it before jogging off after Senka.
Cyril looked perhaps more troubled than Amalthea had ever seen him: his brow was furrowed, and a look of something akin to guilt crossed his face. “Perhaps I should have mentioned it to her first," he said lowly.
Amalthea was vaguely confused. Why would the professor have to mention it to Senka, first? She sighed, though, and shook her head. If there was a reason, she was certain Senka would tell them, eventually. They were all friends, right? Amalthea had even told them as such, if they needed someone to talk to, they could talk to her.
“She'll be fine, Thea. Don't worry too much about it. She has her best friend looking after her right now. She maybe has an upset stomach from the food she was playing with," Mercer stated as if trying to provide a reason. Amalthea didn't quite believe him, but she wasn't going to push the issue any further.
“Well, we should probably start planning our practice sessions, then. How about, we start them next Saturday after chores?" she suggested. Mercer groaned lightly.
“How about next Sunday? I'm still kind of sore from the last mission, you know," Mercer replied, grinning lightly.
“You barely did anything," Vridel groused.
“Hm, that may be true, but I did save your ass a couple of times with arrows, you know. Those aren't as easy as they look to pull back."
Amalthea rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Professor. “When do you think we should start, Professor? You're the one who will be training us, after all."
“Saturday might be preferable," he said. His tone was distant, as though he were still distracted by something. “As I believe the Sunday is an exchange day, yes?" He glanced up at her then, clearly referring to the cultural exchanges the others were doing to help her learn more about the outside world.
“Oh, that's right. I forgot," she replied. She seemed to forget things like that. It's not like they weren't important to her, because they were. She supposed her mind was on other things... other people. And she could feel a blush burning her cheeks. Mercer must have noticed as he grinned in her direction.
“Oh? Pleasant thought, there, Thea? Maybe... about something, or someone in particular?" Mercer spoke. Amalthea pursed her lips.
“You hush, Mercer von Riegan," she replied, puffing her cheeks out in his direction.
Vridel snorted softly. “And now the lady's said so. No gentleman could refuse, Mercer. So are you going to shut up or prove yourself a cad? Decisions, decisions." Though the words could be interpreted as harsh, he seemed to mean them in a friendly sort of way, if his light tone was anything to go by.
“Hm, indeed. Decisions, decisions. Guess I'm not as much of a gentleman as you thought," he replied, grinning in Amalthea's direction. At that moment, she wished she had a fish to throw at him.