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Old 05-22-2017, 10:49 PM
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Move-In Day

One obliteratingly hot end-of-summer day (August the 13th, to be precise - a Tuesday) in the grand Territory of Nebraska, the small town of Deep Waters was suddenly overrun with more traffic than it had seen in a month. Caravans of wagons, each manned by a suspiciously draped driver and/or curiously attractive attendant, wore deep ruts through the untended streets. Pretty much the entire population ended up outside, watching the parades of strange and unique visitors, each more exotic than the last. Later, Old Lady Phillips would swear up and down that she had seen one of them scratch at a wing beneath her over-large poncho, but the rest would chalk that up to heat stroke. Never mind that the woman in question was, indeed, wearing a heavy, oddly styled poncho in the dead heat of the midwest.

It was, of course, Move-In Day at Dr. Pharinaum's Frontier Academy of the Fantastical. The caravans were the goods of four Unseen Houses, being delivered for their distinct and talented representatives. Four students, each chosen for whatever reason their House may have decreed, readied their living spaces and prepared themselves mentally.

A letter was left on the desk in each suite, marked with the new occupant's name in a flowing, careful script. It read as such -


Welcome to your new House away from House!
I hope your accommodations are not too humble
a step down from what you are used to. Please,
if you encounter any issues with the residence,
inform either myself or any member of the
Academy staff.

Please prepare yourself as necessary, and meet
us all in the central courtyard at 3rd bell. We
will have much to discuss, and unfortunately not
as much time as I would like to discuss it.

~Dr. Pharinaum


OOCWelcome to the Academy! Please take this opportunity to lay out your rooms, or your disinterest in them, or whatever you like, really. The next DM post will be in the courtyard mentioned (and will be posted Thursday), so please use your post (or posts) to find your way there.
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Old 05-24-2017, 04:11 PM
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Pyotr
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The journey had been rough. Very rough indeed as he had needed to travel by wagon from the northern reaches of the foreboding arctic wastelands into warmer climates now down south. He had, as the days grew longer and sun beat hotter throughout the travels taken to walking alongside the caravan, taking the time to run through the nearby woods during breaks to find rivers to bathe in on his own. While of course, the rest of the caravan was from the other houses like his own he felt perhaps safer keeping to his own while the journey went on.

It was a good deal of months until they made their way finally into Nebraska Territory and eventually passing through the town of Deep Waters. Pyotr was surprised and in wonder, to say the least; he had not seen this much life abound throughout his entire life.... and through that the stench of those dying around seemed to be stronger than ever. Although, he found that his house would have little to do here, as much of the deaths seemed to be personal failings of the people through strife and disease, rather than the natural taking people back to The Mother, or horrors of nature and spirits taking those who have died already.

Paying little mind, he found his mind wandering as they made their way into the grounds of Dr. Pharinaum's Frontier Academy of the Fantastical, noticing the quaintness of the grounds and location he found himself in. The tour was short, and as he and the two Two skinchangers, a wolf and a raven perhaps. Nothing mechanical, just servants and friends through the storywhite-walkers found his room. Larger than he particularly needed, though the extra room could perhaps be filled up with frivolities here and there. Setting the large bathing basin in the corner opposite the bed, he had his barrels of cleansing oils and dried herbs brought up and split up for use for the week. Food would be ultimately unnecessary, as he required very little and the white-walkers could easily sustain themselves, so he found the room comfortable and easily large enough for his purposes.

He was satisfied to say the least, and as the parchment (which had been translated to Ruskiy for him; ultimately unnecessary but a nice thought nonetheless) said he had a few tolls before called upon so Pytor simply shed his heavy robes and spent a few hours lazing around in the almost-too-warm weather before moving to the central courtyard as instructed.
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Old 05-25-2017, 12:17 PM
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The ValkyrieA good deal of weeks had been spent on the seas, crashing waves, salty air and biting spray. Mortals still hadn't developed comfortable transportation, but it was necessary for the transport of her goods. Carrying each weapon one by one over the seas and land would have taken longer and risked exposure of House Valkyrja to men. The wagons were hardly much better, but at least her wings stayed dry and there were secluded spots to stretch her wings to their full span. To the mortal world, draped underneath a poncho, she was merely a Scandinavian woman, traveling unaccompanied, and but one travelled with her knowing her identity. A priest of what were now old gods, Birger, the friend of light, accompanied her and knew her.

The arrival, after many months of travel and meeting with the rest of the caravan, was a welcome one. The next long while was spent unloading finely crafted weapons and racks to bear them all, including various incarnations of what mortals had named firearms. Requiring of no grace had they but their power and armour penetration was unrivalled at their ranges. Alongside this menagerie of arms came multiple chests, rattling with their contents, a pair beds, bathing tubs and miscellanies. Soon it is all moved to her to her new accommodation. Perhaps a bit oversized, but leaving plenty room for her companion to make an appropriate area for himself, be it a shrine to Odin or offerings to Hel. It mattered little to her who was worshipped, as they were all to be venerated. She had been sent not to preach, but the House's oracle had supposedly foresaw great strife and death in war to come im the years with many fit for arrival at Valhalla. The invitations had been a great excuse for house to get a foothold in "Nebraska."

After stripping herself of the poncho, she read the note, in old Norse tongue, needless as she had been taught the common tongue of the land, English. The instructions were simple enough, but things were rarely so in Norway (And neither was this heat normal to her pale skin). From the arranged rows of weaponry, she grabs a dagger, tucking it into her left boot, followed by slinging a mortal rifle over her shoulder, the thinnest layers of her usual winter armour (Armour beneath, safety was her paramount concern journeying past such a barbaric race.) keeping the leather strap biting into her skin. As a final feature, she takes a balanced spear into her hands, enchanted by the elders of the Valkyrie kind, passed unto her. Able to enter her hands with a single command. She'd not hold this but hide it near enough for it to be called if this doctor had an ulterior motive. From her company in the wagon caravan, capturing them all would be of great benefit to the mortal races.

The next hours were spent in prayer for warriors fallen, recent and distant, praying that they had made the journey safely. And praying that the gods above would return to their former power and bestow their grace and justice to the world, especially before the Ragnarok came. Such a practice was daily in the isolated halls of the north. Upon the toll of second bell, she ended her prayer, leaving the faithful mortal to continue or stop as he saw fit, heading for the courtyard to map it out for escape routes primarily, but also to get her spear hidden appropriately.


 
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Old 05-26-2017, 01:34 AM
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The Green ManThe voyage was a long one, over the wild ocean and along the rugged American roads. Though the members of the Green endure all things with a patience that most creatures don't understand. The Green man, who invites people to call him Mr. Green, had done very little but sit in the sunlight for the entire trip, neither speaking or seeking the company of others. And very few people paid him, or his companions any mind. The travelers of The Green had been gifted with a few magic items to allow them to blend in during the trip. Mr. Green, to those without the power to see beyond, looked like a young lad, just beginning to approach adulthood. And though the wagon bore the sign of The Green, visible to those who knew it, the trio of Green Men and the vehicle itself looked no different from any random human wagon.

The road to Nebraska was lonely for many miles, though as it extended, other wagons bearing the mark of other Houses joined and converged. Though there wasn't too much friendly banter between them. The House of the Green is aloof, and while Mr. Green observed the others, he made no sign of approaching anyone. Not even a hint of interest. Like he had on the boat, and along the loneliness of the road, he didn't speak and simply sat in the sunlight. He knew that they would soon be at the academy, and the time to socialize was there.

When they had finally arrived at the Academy, the Green Man was vaguely surprised that it was such an event, that the townsfolk had come out to observe their arrival. He gave a slow smile to the people, yet ignored their whispered wondering at his nature. It didn't matter to him. If they didn't know the sign of the Green, then let them wonder. They would see, when the time came. He simply grabs his things and hops off the wagon, giving a wave to the pair who remained. They had business elsewhere and wouldn't stay, but it was no reason to waste words of farewell. The young looking lad wordlessly strode into the Academy and headed to his 'room'. His new residence wasn't a room at all. It was simply a walled garden at the back of the estate, and with the blessing of Gaea, it was much greener than the rest of Nebraska. It was here, in the Green Garden, that Mr. Green removed his hat and let his form show; his flesh shrivels into brown bark and his hair transforms into green oak and mistletoe. Then he sits, wordlessly, and waits for the third bell, wondering why Dr. Pharinaum thinks that time is an issue.
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Old 06-13-2017, 10:39 AM
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With the resident valyrie investigating well before anyone else moved to the central courtyard, Dr. Pharinaum was taken a bit by surprise as he showed up a few minutes before the third bell. He recovered quickly, adjusting the wide checked tie and pocket watch as he cleared his narrow throat once or twice. He seemed a bit scant, missing the bulk that should have made up a true midwesterner. Of course, he most likely wasn't, given the correspondence he had sent previously, but that didn't prevent him from feeling out of place in this newly crafted and roughly surrounded facility. It was his, and bore his name, but felt native to the locals more than its intended purpose.

Standing in the geometrical center of the broad lawn was a tree that was as foreign as the four souls meeting under its shade. It was taller than all of the surrounding buildings, and managed to spread its leaves to cover almost the entire courtyard. A shimmering gold-red, the shivering foliage danced in the light breeze that tousled the Green Man's ivy. Given its height and coloring, an observant participant might have been aware of the fact that they hadn't noticed it before entering the courtyard. A trick of the architecture?

Standing with his three new "pupils", Dr. Pharinaum found another fidget point on his too-warm suit before clearing his throat one final time. "Yes, welcome." The somber baritone that issued from his slight frame was almost as surprising as the tree. "Welcome to your new House. As my letter stated, we have less time to discuss matters than I would prefer, but I believe we can get the gist of the situation in hand before we need to move to action. Please, introduce yourselves, and I ask that you explain your level of understanding and or dealings with mortals. It will be... pertinent."
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Old 06-18-2017, 10:01 PM
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The Green ManMr. Green enters the courtyard with a slow, purposeful gait which seemed measured to expend the least amount of energy possible. In fact, his motions in general are slow and extremely precise. He is somewhat surprised by the tree - it's strange that it wasn't noticed elsewhere on the estate and yet, it seems to be so prominent here. Yet, very little emotion seems to reach his oaken visage.

With slow strides, he moves to find a good place to stand, but wishes that more of the delicious sunlight would reach him. But it's the others that garner his attention, for it has become the correct time to examine them. The Valkyrie is easy to recognize, yet he doesn't know any of them personally. And just the same, most of those familiar with the life beyond, would realize the presence of a Green Man easily. The other is monstrous, but his presence and invitation would likely assure that he is no threat. Mr. Green isn't completely sure which House had sent such a creature, but the Green Man doesn't really care.

And then their host begins to speak, and Mr. Green listens carefully. And for quite a few moments after the man is done speaking, the Green Man carefully considers every word and every possible meaning, doing his very best to understand the text and subtext completely. And even more moments pass, before he speaks in his strange voice - a voice that resembles the creaks of straining wood, "Hmmm... Those of Blood always seem to be in a rush. Yes. I wonder if you have the concerns of the Blood, or if you truly see beyond the relativity of time. I imagine you have the sight, and I will hear what you have to say. Oh... Yes, hmmm... Introductions. Name. I suppose Mr. Green will suffice, from the House of the Green. Though, until this point, I have never had much use for a name. Yes, hmmmm... Mortals. Everything is mortal, truly, because all things will find appointed ends. But it is humans you speak of, yes. Humans... Hmmm... I do not have much experience with many Blood things. They seem so impatient... unaware that time is nearly meaningless. Yes. But patience is good, when dealing with others... and Green Men are nothing, if not patient. Hmmm..."
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Old 06-23-2017, 02:51 PM
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SigrúnThe Valkyrie had given a nod to their host upon his arrival, satisfied that this wasn't an elaborate ruse. She attempts to rest her rifle against the tree to keep the weight off her back, brushing a blonde lock from her eyes. She is defiant to the looks given to her by any, be they curious, disapproving or challenging. As much as she wished to interrupt the slow speaking of the "Mr Green", but her time in the halls of House Valkyrja had taught at least some manners, hectic as life could get there with too many meads. She takes the next opportunity to speak firmly into her hands.

"Sigrún, of house Valkyrja. I trust that this will not be diplomatics and chatting, for those are the tools of the weak. Better to spend ones life on the battlefield, to find the comfort of Valhalla, than to shrivel with dealings and delays."
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Old 06-23-2017, 05:49 PM
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Pyotr of the ValleyPyotr draws out from under his cloak in the courtyard, seeing as he isn't the only non-humanoid at the meeting and pulls up to his full height just over 8 feet. Showing little but an understanding at the words being spoken out of the other's mouths, he glances at the others' introductions before letting out in a deep rumble, "I am Pyotr, Guardian of the Northern Valleys. Unlike many I am of mortal blood blessed by the Great Wolf to serve the natural in keeping order from the mortals. However, I have had little dealings with humans outside of my childhood in the wilderness, and so unfortunately my knowledge is scarce."
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Old 06-26-2017, 02:03 PM
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Wiping a bead of nervous sweat from his fore head, the Doctor clears his throat again and looks at each of them in turn. "While, ah, time is essentially a construct of experienced reality, it does unfortunately hold a grip on the mortal lifespan of even the sap-bearing members of our web of life - creating, in certain circumstances, a need to redress grievances visited upon the less capable in a, ah, timely fashion." He shifted uncomfortably. "As to the level and nature of conflict with the proceedings, I can't quite say that I am fully aware. There is a certain chance that one could talk one's way through, however I have a belief that if one chose to progress to escalated violence, one would not be disappointed with the response."

He let out a deep breath before continuing, nodding at least to Pyotr. "It is as I suspected, then. Few of the Hidden Houses deign to much interaction with the mortal kine these days. Well, let me then explain briefly.

"It is not our place to direct mortals, nor to discipline them. However, this stance of reclusiveness and non-interference has let the short-lived, highly-ambitious creatures elevate themselves well beyond what they have been capable of for millennia. Now, here, in this frontier land rife with native conflict and the advancement of science and technology, we find ourselves facing a dilemma we had never expected."


He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, coughed into it, and dabbed at the corner of his mouth. He absently waved it as he continued. "Tell me, have any of you heard of the steam engine?"
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Old 07-01-2017, 08:02 PM
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The Green ManMr. Green stands comfortably, seemingly unfazed by Dr. Pharinaum's halting and uncomfortable speech, nor does he flinch at the more direct manner of the other house representatives. His eyes seem to gaze into nothing, a void as he considers the words he hears, but still he can find nothing to make him think quickly. When it becomes clear that the others need to digest that man's words, the green man does nothing but shrug, "Hmm, yes.... Others of my House, such as Barajuan, and even those in other houses have given much knowledge to the humans in order to help them separate from the dust. I have never put much care into such things, but their growth is not much of a surprise. Hmm... I have never heard of this 'Steam Engine', no. No, not a word, but it is how it is. Hmm... Is it really worse than some of the other things they have? Smokes and booms and death? Hmmm? It seems to me, yes, that much won't change. They dig and tear and ruin until they die, and the Green takes it back and puts it right. Yes, we have seen the rise and fall of many. Hmmm... but you know of us, yes. So, you know it all too, and have still called us. Why is this different now?"
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Old 07-10-2017, 03:44 PM
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OhmygodsosorryI'mterribleatmanagingtimeandwaswaytootiredtoreplyThe Valkyrie scarcely let's confusion rest on her face out of pride. There'd only been whispers in the longhouses of great metal constructs that would soon surpass their natural speeds. The very idea was unwelcome, though she had doubts of her hatred, as mortals had proven themselves with firearms before.

"Mere rumours of them making their way into the norse lands. But none have passed near enough a longhouse for us to observe. I suspect you intend for us to do something with them... Or about them."
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Old 07-10-2017, 07:01 PM
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Pyotr of the ValleyPyotr nods at the doctor who seemed to be at least explaining some history behind the houses and their purpose. It surprised him in a way that many did not interact with mortals as the House of the Winter Mountains seemed to often act as arbiters of mortals and their interactions with the natural world. Perhaps there was plenty more to learn that the Wolf Mother did not tell. As for the steam engine, those were words that were wholy unfamiliar to Pyotr. An Engine? What actively uses steam for anything other than purifying?

"No I must regret to say that I have never heard of this 'Steam Engine'. There has been no such word of that thing up in the far north of Russkiy America"
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