#constanzea

Event starter for @flowerofgoneril @constanzea @windsheedme

The investigation for Agarthans didn’t begin once they set foot across the thresholds of the towers of the Fhirdiad School of Sorcery. It had begun long ago after their first encounter, and while it was only now picking back up with incidents and people vanishing, to pretend any of their own was immune to such happenings was folly.

They’d been sent far and wide to investigate. Soren would do ust tha, withone eye still on Garreg Mach. What protection did they really have, or what faith in each other could possibly circumvent a continental enemy the archbishop let brew right under her nose?

Secrets were lying in wait for them not only in Fhirdiad, but back at the monastery, this Soren knew.

And so, their dear Professor Aveline was not exempt from his prying behind people’s backs.

The entourage of other students with him was a surprise. Soren looked behind him at Merric, Constance, and of all people Hilda. They were in the library, which were these normal circumstances, Soren would gladly engross himself in the tomes surrounding him for the duration of their stay, but as they were not in normal circumstances-

He approached the librarian, keeping his voice slightly down for the respect of the library. The room was so large he was slightly worried about an echo, despite the shelves upon shelves of books to mute sound. “Excuse me.”

The librarian looked up. He was an older gent, the lines in his face mark him as stern but kind. “I’m Vern. Just Vern. Can I help you?”

Soren hugged a few books to his chest, as was the default for him at just about any time. “Hello. I’d like some assistance, but not necessarily about books. Did you ever have our Professor Aveline, Hannabelle Aveline to you I guess, as a student? I’m curious about what she was like when she was our age.” He managed to say our age with a straight face, and hoped he came off as being innocently curious about his professor.

He crinkles his nose a moment in thought, the half of his face just peeking over a pile of books of his own. "Little Aveline, yes, yes... She was always something of a boisterous thing, that one. Not so much wild as... zealous. Enthusiastic. Why?" 

That checked out, as best as Soren could tell. Perhaps tis was sincerely a waste of time, chasing after a non lead, but while they were there, might as well gather what information they could. “I see, she’s much the same, though she tries to be a professional about it.” Soren didn’t intend it to be rude, realizing after he said it he might’ve come across that way. “She was excited to bring us here, and upon arrival I can see why. I suppose, with this being such a marvel of an institution to learn magic at, I wonder why she didn’t stay to teach?”

"Well," he strokes his faint, grizzled gray beard. "It is an institution for the elite... Faculty included... Though that isn't to say her career at Garreg Mach is any lesser, I'm sure." He smiles slightly, placing a few books back where they belong as he speaks. "That and..." He pauses. Looks to Constance and then back to sorting his books. "... Well, it's not really my place to say." 

Hilda is surprised. Not that she was invited to a party. Of course she was. Take one look at her and it's obvious that she's fun and enjoyable to be around. It would be a surprise if she wasn't immediately invited to hang out with the cool kids. She just really hadn't expected there to be any cool kids there to begin with. Lorenz Helman Gloucester is the best frame of reference she has for a School of Sorcery student, after all.

She doesn't really know what to expect when she enters the party space (late, of course, but fashionably so) but it definitely was not this. It's surprisingly boppin. A few musicians are playing some upbeat tunes, there's food and drink, and even some folks engaged in party games. It's impressive and pretty easy to forget that there are students turned popsicles in the infirmary.

It's better that way. It might not have been her first though when she immediately agreed to show up at the party but it is probably one of their best chances to get some authentic gossip from the students.

Bottle of expensive liquor in hand (it's nice to be polite after all), Hilda heads over to the food and drink table to add her contribution to the collection of refreshments.

Starter for @constanzea

The Ethereal Ball is still months away but that won’t stop students and staff looking forward to it early. There’s one big hiccup at present, however: the Goddess Tower, where hopes and dreams of confessions and romance go to burn bright or crash and peter out, is reportedly being haunted by a nasty ghost. What’s worse, the specter seems to particularly have it out for those touched by love’s embrace. Not to mention, no one is technically allowed inside… Patrol the grounds or bust in, and save the Ball from certain doom.

Reports had reached the professor’s desk about strange going ons at the Goddess Tower. Knowing that this was a popular . . . hang out spot on the night of the Academy’s famed Ethereal Ball, the higher ups at the Church had requested that she investigate. Why her? She was unsure but having inspected the details of the reports closer there had been the note about the spectre preferring those in love. Guess having a reputation as emotionless husk made her the perfect candidate to sort out the problem.

Deciding to investigate late in the day, assuming the spectre would be more active at night, Byleth headed to the specified location. Arriving at the tower, the Professor immediately saw the large padlock on the entrance barring students from gaining access. And of course, the church had forgotten to provide her with a key in spite of asking her specifically to come here. She wondered about busting out her trusty lock picking kit and make use of some of the skills she’d learnt in her time teaching here. It was for a good cause after all and preferable to using force. 

Before doing this, the ex-mercenary decided to patrol around the tower quickly just to check there wasn’t another, simpler way in. It was probably too much to ask for an open window but you never know. Setting off, it wasn’t until she reached the back of the building that she came across someone. Immediately on high alert, her hand twitched towards her sword hilt ready for confrontation. She relaxed slightly upon seeing the Officer Academy uniform indicating this person was a student. They still shouldn’t be here though, time to play the teacher role. 

‘Tis the Season | Mistletoe Meme

Linhardt was never one to follow tradition, especially one as meaningless as mistletoe. The idea was absurd, what did a bunch of leaves have to do with romance? 

Normally Linhardt would ignore the mistletoe, much to the dismay of his partner, but somehow he ended up with Constance under it.

The former Empire noble would never leave Linhardt alone if he ignored her. He could feel her waiting gaze on him, he had to act fast.

True mastery with a sword is more than just swinging your weapon and embracing its sharp edge into your personality, but knowing what separates a true blade from something best left in the kitchen. A master smith from the castle town is offering a seminar to Officers Academy students on forging their own blades, so that they may learn what makes a sword a cut above the rest. For fun, he even makes it a competition–there’s no doubt that whatever you make will be terrible, but the one who manages to make the least terrible blade will be dubbed “the champion Forged in Fire” for a day! [ Grants Sword +1 ]

It is always important to have options on the battlefield if one wants to keep one's army alive and lead them to victory. For Saias, previous experiences have taught him that having more options in protecting oneself allows one to better focus on the bigger picture and on one's comrades in arms. The playful spar in the rain with Papa Sigurd opened his eyes to the elegance of swordplay—and the lengths he will have to go to become proficient in the discipline if he chooses such a method of protection. The sheer inexperience he has with swordfighting has recently led him to research more about the art in addition to beginning to train with a practice blade.

Forging one's own sword sounds like the perfect way to get a personal understanding of it, in his opinion.

The redhead scans the smith as the man describes the various aspects such as heating, cooling, hammering, filing, grinding, cutting, and others that go into the production of a sword. He winces as he glances down at his smooth, callus-free hands far more suited to magic than heavy labor, the distinct feeling of not belonging threading through him as he peeks at his fellow would-be blade-smiths. I'm... going to need some help if I really want to succeed at this.

The title of Champion Forged in Fire is less important to him than learning about the process of forging, but he can't deny that it would be nice to win it on his first attempt, as unlikely as that is to be. He shakes his head and quirks a small smile at the blonde noblewoman next to him. "Looks like we weaker folk are going to have to get creative if we can't enlist the help of one of the stronger participants."