The Chatelaine's Story

Date: Tuesday, December 31st.
Time: Morning

A woman stood in the center of the Great Hall of the Liminal Academy, her posture perfectly straight despite her age. Arrayed around her were the many points of the floor's inlaid compass rose, a parquet of exotic woods, in hues of red and gold and brown. It drew the eye to her, although her height and bearing helped as well.

She wore muted shades of lavender-gray, long skirts and a veiled hat, the veil draping back over her ash-blonde hair, but leaving her face uncovered. The latter was a fashion that had not been popular in two or three decades -- when, perhaps, this woman had been in her prime. But even now she had a formidable appearance, for all that the closest thing to a weapon on her person was a pair of scissors, dangling from a chain on her belt.

She stood facing the three massive doors that led into the hall -- though of course only two of them would open, today -- and waited for the first arrival. She would, on being approached, say brusquely: "Name?"

If the Chatelaine was the least bit surprised by the young Tudor's appearance -- or rather, by the humbly dressed youth's illustrious name -- she certainly didn't show it. Her impassive face showed the faintest glimmer of approval at his polite words and genteel bow, however.

"Cecil Tudor," she repeated. "House of Sunlight. Room 208, with Luken Chase." As she spoke, she detached a key from a large ring, jingling with a dozen or so other keys.

"Stairs are there," she says, gesturing to her right -- Cecil's left -- where a flight of stairs climbed the wall, bypassing the first balcony to reach the second. "Doors are marked. Questions?"

Date: December 31st
Time: Morning




Underneath the streets of the western quarter of Shadowtown runs the numerous and maze like sewer passages. Home to beggars, rats, and the occasional murderer. In addition to such fine company the prominent Shaefow Sickle thieves guild makes there home here. An elite guild their membership is limited to only master thieves or those carrying a marker with them. In the form of the guild banner it is a silver Sickle worn as a necklace. Given out to those who have done the guild a service possession of one entitles the bearer to either a favor or membership within the guild.

The youth shooting at targets within the guild's range was of the latter half though he had stolen enough to be considered the equal of the guildmaster. The twang of his bow string blended in with the lessons Subtle Nick was giving in concealment. Considered the guild's master of disguise his trick was not going unseen but rather looking like he had every right to be standing where ever he was at the moment. And he was damn good at it to, his most daring heist involving stealing the taxes of Shadowtown's residents right from underneath the treasurer's very nose.

By the shadows the Guild had earned some clout with Shadowtown that day. Especially after handing back the vast majority of the haul right back to the tax payers. Though Subtle Nick was quite the wanted man these days.

"So when are you leaving my magical thief." A deep and sonorous voice asked from behind the youth shooting his bow.

Firing off one last arrow the black haired youth shouldered the bow and turned to face his questioner. A mountain of a man it was hard to imagine the fellow as a thief. But despite his looks this giant was the guildmaster of the Shaefow Sickle and thus perhaps the best thief in all the known world.

"No time like the present I suppose. " He answered with a lingering look around the range and guild house. Though perhaps not grand in appearance this place and it's people were the home away from home. And the guildmaster had known his father and world tell stories about the deceased assassin. And the youth treasured such tales.

"We're gonna miss ya Shade. Never thought when I gave that marker to Shafe that his son would end up cashing it in."The Guildmaster replied before bidding Shade a fond farewell and renewing his vow to look after his family. With that the black haired youth gave a piercing whistle and his inheritance from his father bound up on eager feet.

"Time for us to leave Shazar. " He spoke with a final wave at the guildmaster as the gray wolf fell in step to his side.



Striding through the door the thief was surprised at the sheer size of the place. Not to mention the richness of it's decor, surely such a place must have it's share of baubles no one would miss. Perhaps though the thief thought better of such a course of action when he caught a glance at the rooms central feature. Namely the statuesque woman standing atop the compass rose. Obviously past her prime Shade would bet his last lock pick she counted every last thing in the place against such larceny ridden thoughts as his own.

Also with his weapons he felt somewhat overdressed compared to her. He'd be dammed if he would part with them however.
"Shade Dara ma'am" He replied when asked his name.It was at this time Shazar decided to let his opinion be known by letting loose a low growl. "Don't mind Shazar ma'am it's how he always greets strangers.

Unlike Cecil, whose neat but modest dress and impeccable manners had won a prompt response from the Chatelaine, Shade received a moment of silently disapproving perusal, as she looked him up and down before she grudgingly acknowledged his words.

"Shade Dara. House of Candles. Room 103, with Xaven Silverkin." She handed him a key as she spoke. "Stairs to your right, rooms are marked. Any questions?"

And indeed, he could see that a set of stairs ran along the right-hand wall -- similar to the ones on the left, but these ended at the first-level balcony. At each level there were doors along each long side wall, and a larger one in the central wall ahead.

Skipping up the stairs towards the academy, Allyse couldn't help but giggle with joy as her black cat followed behind her feet, sending her curious looks every now and than.

Arriving at the door she was met by an old women, "Name?".

Grinning Allyse answered, "Names Allyse Gypso, most call me the dancing flame or ali, take your pick." She grinned cheekily, before noticing her cat and quickly picking it up, "and this is Coal, he's my familiar!" Ali said in excitement, literally jumping around with anticipation to enter her new school.

"What's you name?" She asked pleasantly, trying to calm her nerves by talking as she usually did... That or dancing but the latter seemed inappropriate here.

Turning away from Shade to the young woman who just entered, the Chatelaine turned her disapproval on her as well. There was a distinct pause before she answered her question -- or rather, didn't actually answer it.

"You may address me as Lady Chatelaine," she said -- providing a pair of titles rather than any name. She handed Allyse a key. "You are in the House of Candles, and your room is 117, to be shared with April Summers. Stairs are to your left."

She paused, then added, "Do you have any additional questions?" Her tone suggested that it would be best if the answer were 'no.'

" Nope I haven't the slightest question ma'am.Thank you for the warmest welcome I have gotten in a long time." Shade replied with a shallow and somewhat mocking bow.Honestly you'd think Shade was going to steal the silverware by the way she was looking at him. Well he might if it came right down to it but that didn't give the woman any right to instant disapproval. Shazar growled even louder at her sensing his master's mood.

" Come on boy we got bigger fish to fry." Shade said beckoning the wolf to follow him with a wave of his left hand. Lopping over the wolf turned his head at the approach what obviously an other student. Far too childish for her own good the black haired youth could swear he heard giggling as she approached the Ice Queen herself. Shaking his head at such things the youth decided it was the old bat's problem and finished his ascent up the stairs with Shazar at his side.

It was a short climb and even a shorter walk before he stood in front of the room assigned to his and whoever this Silverkin was. Sounded like the sort of name a bloody noble would have. He didn't care for the thought of sharing a room to begin with but sharing it with a noble sounded downright awful. Hopefully the rich bastard brought something worth lifting Shade comforted himself with.

Opening the door he took in the somewhat spartan nature of the room. Well he wasn't planning on spending much time anyway so it hardly mattered. He did get a slight chuckle at the thought of his likely noble born room mate complaints at the lack of silk sheets and honeyed wine.

Realizing he was travelling light, only the armor and weapons he was wearing in fact, the thief remembered his mother and youngest sister were bringing his clothes and belongings later today. That also brought up exactly what he was suppose to be doing. Perhaps he should have asked the Ice Queen what he had the chance.

Ellard

He sat in the carriage, palms sweaty, staring down at his newly shined black leather shoes. A drop of sweat dripped down from his forehead onto the wooden floor.

He didn't like this. He wasn't prepared for this. This was a total break from his daily routine. He wanted to go back home. Now.

He wished he could just tell his family that he didn't even want to assume the head of the family, but he feared too much for his own life. His sisters were ruthless...he wasn't even sure if they cared much for him. Particularly his oldest younger sister, Amelle...she was twice his size in both girth and height and ten times stronger. Yet her distaste for him was even stronger than her physical strength, and she had threatened killing him on multiple occasions. Whether she meant it only as a joke was lost on him. He wasn't taking any chances.

"Master Donahue," he heard the voice of the driver call out, "The horse is growing restless. As am I."

With a nod, he grabbed the handle and pushed. He nearly fell out of the carriage, so nervous was he, and he was far too weak to carry his single suitcase.

The thin boy approached the stern-looking woman, and stammered out, "E-ellard...Ellard D-Donahue," when prompted for his name.

April

The red-haired beauty had decided to walk to the school. She never was very fond of horses anyways, only riding them as a last resort. She had upon her several bags and a large suitcase trailing behind her. She was dressed in several layers of her not-so-shabby clothes, which only caused one to wonder what else she had packed. Her bags themselves were of fine quality, and at first glance it would have been difficult to pin her as a child of the streets. However her leather boots, though pretty, were well-worn, the brown on the heel chipped and hinting at heavy use on the streets.

She strode confidently to the doors of the school, waiting in line behind a mousy-haired boy accompanied by a man holding a suitcase. Much be the rich type, April thought to herself, hefting her bag higher on her shoulder. She listened to his painful stutter, as if he were answering a difficult math problem rather than something as easy as his name. She rolled her green eyes and sighed. If this was what she was up against at this school...well. Perhaps this was not as prestigious as she had first thought.

Phoebe stared at the doors that would soon be taking her from the life she was comfortable with. Today marked her last day of living. As soon as she walked through those doors, she would be different. She'd try her hardest to learn and keep up with the other students. Trying wasn't something she did often, but disappointing her family that had sacrificed so much was not an option. For goodness sake, she took a bath and washed her hair for this. It would be a waste if she didn't see what the academy was about at the very least.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and arrived in the Great Hall. Of course, with all her stalling before, she wondered if she arrived on time. She'd never owned a time piece, nor did she ever find need one, but one look that the stern matron before her made her think she'd need to invest in one. Now that she'd arrived, she knew she wasn't late, but it never hurt to be early.

"Name?" The woman asked.

The streets of Shadowtown was not the best place to learn manners, but her mother had taught her a few things. Phoebe hadn't really cared to listen, finding them useless, but she knew enough to not waste anyone's time.

"Phoebe Avalon, Miss." She gave a small smile. It probably wasn't enjoyable to wait for all the students.

"Ellard Donahue," says the Chatelaine. Is there a hint of warmth, even of sympathy, in her demeanor? Perhaps, but it is so slight as to be virtually imperceptible. She hands him his key. "The House of Sunlight. Room 209, with Jasper Salvatore. Stairs are to your right, rooms are marked. Questions?"

Once young Ellard is dealt with, she gives April her room assignment and key -- 117, with Allyse.

Finally she attends to Phoebe -- brusquely, but at least with none of the pointed pauses that some of the others had earned. She has room 118, with Alina Rivers.

A girl with dark hair walks in to the Great Hall. She looked around with awe on her face. This is the place where she can show everyone how great she is. She can show them all that she is a good mage. And her father will finally accept her as a decent daughter.
Kennedy looks at The Chateline and smiles. "Hello my name is Kennedy Liason"

Date: Tuesday, December 31st.
Time: Morning

John walked into the room, not the least bit surprised at its glamour.
And they wonder why thieves rob these kinds of places...
He sighed, shuffling up to the old woman that seems to be in charge.
"Name?"
She had asked, and he pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
"John Mortimer."
He says blandly, not wanting to speak more than needed.

Luken arrived at the academy in anything but a good mood. It was his father's suggestion, no, order, to attend the prestigious school. Luken sniffed at the large door he passed under, adjusting his collar and rubbing at his stubble chin. Horus, the servant behind him pushing a cart of his two trunks and bag, mumbled something Luken didn't catch. The probability that it mattered was slim, but Luken huffed, "Yes, Horus?"

"I was just saying, sir, how am I going to get these up the stairs?"

"You'll just have to carry them, won't you?"

"But sir-"

"Horus, you're the servant. It's what you're paid to do, yes? Isn't my father paying you overtime or whatever for today? Taking this ridiculous journey...for school. I've already finished my exams, what does he think I need further help with?"

Horus paused in the doorway, hesitant.

Luken squinted over his shoulder to the thin man. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not a student. Er, sir."

"Lucky you, now c'mon!"

Approaching the severe woman in the center of the hall, Luken swallowed back a look of disgust. Whether it worked or not, he didn't care much. All he wanted was to get through this year and be done. He didn't even know what this whole academy place was about.

"Luken Chase," he muttered when prompted. Horus wheeled up beside him, the cart creaking to a stop. Luken rolled his blue eyes, pushing his hair to the side.

He caught a girl with brilliant red hair heading up a set of stairs with two others. Students, he figured. And the dorms were indeed up a large flight of stairs. Luken shrugged. Horus would manage.

" Such a bountiful crop of young and promising minds." Jan spoke as the students paraded through the illusion of the great hall they were all watching, sitting in the blue room. It seemed somewhat voyeuristic this unseen watching of what would become the new student body but the false monk could not deny it's usefulness. If only this could be employed everywhere, t'would make the job of being the dark goddess's eyes and ears a lot easier. Then again it was in all likelihood was. As one of the few non-mages here Jan would wager a great deal that there was much he was not told. Which seemed fair enough as there was things they'd never learn from him either.

" And lucky are we to be the ones to teach them to be the best they can be." The bald and muscled monk added indicating with a wave of his right hand all the teachers present sitting around the show they were watching. " As for the criminal past of some our students I doubt they were so forthcoming with it Headmaster." Jan further expended upon his comments. " Or did you perhaps step beyond the simple questions your rather forthright greeter did?"He asked with a slight rise of his left eyebrow." Such curiosity seems ill suited to the environment we wish to foster. After all some of the magic practiced here sits ill with my own order let alone Al-Monj himself. Yet it is only petty theft you seem inclined to mention."

How he loved such games of minor wits.He wasn't all that good at them but still he loved to play them for they only improved with use. Of course Jan Zhao loved such games, the man behind the mask was a tale none would ever know. At least that was Al-Jumi's wish and would remain so till he failed his true mistress.

Ignore.

The Chatelaine repeated, "Kennedy Liason. House of Sunlight, room 219, with Charlotte Sanderson. Stairs to your left, rooms are marked. Any questions?"

Once Kennedy was on her way to her room, the Chatelaine turned her attention to the next in line. "John Mortimer. House of Candles. Room 104, with Noah Marx. Stairs to your right, rooms are marked. Questions?"

Once again, she turned to the next in line as soon as John had moved on. "Luken Chase," she repeated. "House of Sunlight, Room 208, with Cecil Tudor. Stairs are to your left, rooms are marked. Any questions?"

And then to the next. "Topaz Montgomery," she said crisply -- and promptly. Topaz, of course, had no way of knowing that this was as close to a sign of approval that the Chatelaine was likely to give. "House of Sunlight. Room 118, with Peridot Zircon," she continued, handing her a key. "Stairs are to your left, rooms are marked. Any questions?"

"Noah Marx," she said to the next student -- after a distinct pause, a pause that seemed to imply that she was familiar with that name, and displeased by the owner's presence in her illustrious Academy. "House of Candles. Room 104, with John Mortimer." She made a slight gesture to a dark-haired young man nearby, and then finally handed Noah a key. She neglected to ask if he had questions -- though perhaps this was a genuine lapse, as there was a startling fanfare from outside the other door, the door to Aeolia.

The Chatelaine regarded Jasper for a long moment, disapproval writ large in the lines of her mouth and eyes. Finally she said, "Jasper Salvatore. House of Sunlight. Room 209, with Ellard Donahue." She nodded towards the somewhat panicked-looking Ellard. "Stairs are to your right, rooms are marked, any questions?"

After exiting his dorm, Cecil practically floated down the flight of steps, with everything in tow. Parchments and writing utensil stored away, Cecil would be free to explore most of the Academy at his leisure. He decided that conversation and fun would come later; neither his classmates nor exploration beckoned any more vigorously than the other for attention. It was by a purely abritrary decision he decided to roam, but where to, he wasn't sure. Perhaps he could pay a visit to the teachers...?

As Cecil thoughtfully regarded the architecture of the Great Hall, he'd note several details that the other students might have missed. The parquet floor was fairly eye-catching, of course, with its central compass rose pointing in all directions. The stern Chatelaine still stood at its very center, regarding the doors impassively -- presumably awaiting stragglers, for the initial crowd of students had dispersed.

Beyond the compass rose, though, the pattern of the expansive floor grew subtle, as the colors of the woods used were nearly the same as each other, and the dividing lines between them were remarkably fine. And yet, regarded closely, it was a work of art -- wavery-edged pieces like waves, curling and breaking into stylized foam against islands, the sea inhabited by tall-masted ships and scaled sea-creatures, the islands populated by more terrestrial features, stylized mountains and trees and a castle with flags curling as if in the wind...

...and yet, without a close look, it would appear to simply be a polished wood floor.

The room as a whole was perhaps a hundred feet in its longest dimension, and a mere sixty on the side that the three massive doors opened into. The two tiers of balconies ran its length, and Cecil at least would note that their railings were intricately wrought iron, topped with a handrail of polished mahogany. The stairs that led to each tier were wide enough that three could comfortable walk abreast, and widened in a sweeping curve at the end as they reached the ground floor, the railing curling into an elegant spiral.

Wrought-iron pillars supported the balconies, perhaps six inches in diameter, and intersecting the railing at ten-foot intervals. They were patterned mostly in spirals and curlicues, tightly composed within their narrow cylindrical shape, but branching out under each balcony, like stylized trees.

Overhead, there was at least two more stories' worth of height before the Great Hall was capped by a domed roof. It was difficult to determine exactly how high it went, as it grew dark about a story after the Suns' balcony tier, and the uppermost heights were pitch black... and sprinkled with points of light. Somewhat below these 'stars,' on a height that the Suns might look out on them at eye level, were larger glowing orbs of light, of varying sizes. They orbited each other in a complex and stately pattern, slow enough that an hour might pass before the smallest of their orbits was completed.

All of the illumination came from these spheres, as there were no windows in the Great Hall, as it was presumably surrounded by other, lesser rooms. Four doors were spaced along each long wall, each of the eight bearing a metal bass-relief emblem, each a mythical creature of some kind: dragon, unicorn, griffin, phoenix, basilisk, pegasus, harpy, chimera. And on the far wall, opposite the three doors that led into the Academy, there were two larger open doorways, appearing to lead into two parallel hallways. On the wall between these doors was a long board, with pieces of parchment neatly tacked up in a row.

Everyone present in the Great Hall or the surrounding balconies could hear a faint scream, followed by another at a slightly higher pitch. It sounded like the screams had come from the second tier -- the student rooms for the House of Sunlight.

The Chatelaine turned her head in that direction, frowning.

Cecil found himself back on the upper balcony, but unable to ascertain which of the numbered doors was the source of the screams, as all was quiet now. He could either start knocking on doors, or let the matter go...

The Chatelaine appeared to have settled on the latter, for she once again regarded the three doors leading into the Academy, and not the balcony.