Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20170721035105/@comment-5583506-20170726225836

(Aight, will timeskip us five years of academy training by popular demand.)

The Guildmaster just faced Saint as the latter closed the door behind him. "You were too wild... at the worst of times", he said ambiguously. Though Saint would know what he was referring to the Great Conflict.

Bethany sat still, even long after the Argonian had left. "Yes", she said to herself. "What do they have to laugh at?"

"Won't stop us from trying, eh?" Ylva said. "Come now, raise you back to the dormitories before we get a scolding."

After Saint had left his quarters and let the newcomer inside the boys' dormitory, the Guildmaster received an expected, albeit late, nightly visitor.

"I trust that your journey was pleasant?" the old man said, not even bothering to look over at the chamber door.

"Far from it", Preacher said, still pondering upon what the Mold had told him.

"What's troubling you then?"

"The Mold", the young hero said.

"Oh?"

Preacher placed his robes on a nearby table and sat down in a chair next to the old man. "He said that... he allowed himself to be captured."

The Guildmaster side-glanced at Preacher curiously. "What do you mean by allowed?"

"Exactly what I am telling you. According to him he willfully surrendered during the Great Conflict and allowed himself to be imprisoned."

Some sparks from the firepit crackled and lit up the room in a sudden flash of light. "What does that mean then? Did he say anything else?"

Preacher nodded. "He said that... in ten years time from now, he would have a surprise ready for me. But I think he meant it not just only for me, but for the whole Heroes' Guild as well... maybe even... the world."

The Guildmaster sighed. "Preacher, listen to yourself. I think you are letting this go to your head. Do you not know the Mold? He is a skillful manipulator who likes to instill fear and paranoia. He's playing games with you. He wants you to be afraid, because that's how you make mistakes."

Preacher shook his head. "No, no, he was being sincere. I could tell... in his own amused way perhaps, but he was being serious. He basically told me that we were in danger and needed to prepare. He said that... all his pieces were already set."

The Guildmaster glanced at Preacher again.

"Something... just doesn't feel right", Preacher said. "I know that you have your own belief that the Mold is just messing with me, but if you had seen him and heard him, like I did, you would know that he has something up the back of his sleeve."

"And what might that be?"

Preacher sighed. "I don't know. I wish I did, but I just get this feeling that it's... something we've overlooked. Some detail we've missed. Ever since the Great Conflict something has been gnawing at my mind. And the Mold himself confirmed it when he said that he allowed himself to be captured... and when he said that in ten years from now his 'pieces' would strike."

"That reminds me", the Guildmaster said, holding out the documents concerning Archivist for Preacher to observe. "I am getting closer to finding him."

"Archivist?" Preacher said askingly. "He disappeared during the Great Conflict. I believed that he was killed just like many others. What about him?"

"I have reasons to believe that he is still alive", the Guildmaster said. "And possibly one of the masterminds behind the Great Conflict."

Preacher turned pale. "No. No, there's no way. I am sorry, Guildmaster, but I knew Archivist back then. He was no traitor. No killer. You must've gotten it wrong. He may have vanished mysteriously, but he is not by any means an enemy."

"That's what I aim to find out", the old man said sternly. "As of now I will make Archivist my primary target to hunt down and capture. I need to... question him. If his story adds up to what I remember from back then, then he is innocent and has nothing to fear. But just because he might be innocent doesn't mean that I won't track him down. Archivist is a hero, disappeared in a puft of smoke as he might be, he still has his duties. And I aim to make sure that whatever his current status is, he will either continue to uphold our tenants, rot away in Volkihar Prison, or be expelled permanently for abandoning his duty."

Preacher looked into the flames. "I understand", he said bitterly. "So... do you want me to...?"

"No. I know you were his friend, Preacher. But I can't allow you to look for him. You are too... biased. I will entrust Gait and a couple of others to do so."

Preacher didn't like the idea of accepting his bias as an insult, but he knew that the Guildmaster was right. "I understand", he repeated.

"A new generation of heroes have arrived as we speak", the old man said. "Ten years of training. I sensed their potential as I spoke to them in the dining hall. Some of them are... quite impressive. Some quite dangerous."

''Ten years... ''The words kept repeating inside Preacher's head. ''Ten years from now... ''Was this what the Mold had meant? Or was it just pure coincedence? He didn't dare to guess, but he didn't like the anticipation of having to wait for something bad to happen either.

He got up from the chair and got himself ready to rest up and greet the children in the morning. "Guildmaster?"

"Hm?"

"With your permission I would like to... make some changes to the childrens' training schedule. If what the Mold said is true, then we should prepare them for the worst possible outcomes."

There was a moment of silence before the Guildmaster nodded. "Granted."

"I'd also like to tighten the security of Volkihar Prison."

"That's not under our jurisdiction", the Guildmaster said. "But I will make sure to put up that proposal during the next meeting with the Elder Council." He stroke his grizzled beard. "You may take your leave."

Preacher nodded and left anxiously, grabbing the robes from the table. He didn't know how or why, but he knew that the guild was in danger somehow. He needed to stop it. But how could he stop a threat he had not yet seen? Nor did he know what to expect? But in the case of the Mold, he could only assume the worst. He still found it troubling to know that according to Mold's own words, they already were being targeted as all his pieces had been set up. But what pieces? What did he need to look for?

Maybe he was just overthinking it and the Guildmaster was right after all. This was just what the Mold wanted... and got a kick from; watching others suffer as they were trying to figure him out. He was toying with them for his own amusement. Thinking like that tore Preacher apart. If he hesitated and remained idle, then perhaps the surprise the Mold had promised him would come true and strike from the shadows. But if he remained vigilant and sent out heroes to watch for potential threats, then perhaps he would be blindsided by something else that he had yet to see. It was just like the chessboard. The white pieces played on the offense, whilst the black pieces allowed themselves to be taken down one by one; acting like decoy and distraction, while they were moving in to strike at the heart.

But Preacher had made up his mind. He would make sure that the children would prepare themselves for whatever the Mold had in store for the world. And if it turned out that the Mold had indeed just been pranking, then he assumed that he would be laughing stock of the guild for years to come.

''A small price to pay to ensure safety against that monster... ''he thought, exiting the Guildmaster's quarters and out into the night.

5 years later...

Birds were tweeting outside the windows of the dormitories. The first days of the long summer had just kicked in and the early morning sun had made the floors pleasantly warm by shining in through the glass windows.

For five years these children had trained together, laughed together and quarreled amongst each other. Yet another five years of their training remained. Some of them had really exelled in the use of their powers, while others struggled to unlock their true potential. Though they all very much remained the same bunch that had arrived at the academy on that shining day five years ago, for better or worse...

Juliana woke the girls by pulling away the curtains in their dormitory. "Wake up, my doves", she cooed. "Summer is here! You can't throw days like these away by dragging in bed now, can you?"

Shortly after that the childrens' training had begun, Pierre had completed his graduation, taking on the hero identity of Reflection. But even though he had achieved a lifelong dream of studies and hard work, he had chosen to remain at the academy to help the boys out. Some would call him a coward for not being out in the field as often as he could now that he was an acknowledged hero, others would call him the best and most loyal friend anyone could've hoped for, who chose to ignore a life of adventure and danger to instead help the next generation.

"Hey, chaps!" he chuckled, smashing two metal pans together as he marched down the boys' dormitory. "Time for another glorious day of training, yah?"

Bethany had always considered herself as someone who simply didn't "belong" at the academy. She was often quiet, kept to herself and rarely talked to anyone. Whenever the other girls or boys were having fun she would sit at the top of the roof of the girls' dormitory and watch.

In truth she did find this state to be quite painful. She truly wanted to get to know the others better, but due to her anti-social behavior she had undeliberately made herself into a social outcast, either out of fear for being hurt... or hurting others.

Juliana had really been the only one to look after her. She did talk to Gabryel from time to time. And Diadros too. But it was never really to the point where she would think that she truly knew them, or that they knew her.

And then there was Ylva. The two of them couldn't stand each other. She couldn't remember exactly how they had started off on the wrong foot, but she knew that their contempt for each other remained. Ylva didn't like the idea of having a half-vampire "skulking about" whereas Bethany would reply with dog-jokes, something which really seemed to trigger Ylva's more fierce side.

Truth was though that if there was some sort of entertainment to be had at the academy, that was it. She knew as well as Ylva that if their bickering would stop at any point, they would find themselves bored. Perhaps there was some sort of mutual respect between them, which they only hid as well as they could, not wanting to acknowledge it, by thinking of as many clever insults as possible. Bethany would more than often win. Though Ylva was by no means dumb or, she acted based on emotion and was very easy to manipulate.

All bark and no bite, Bethany reflected as she reluctantly rose up from her bed, wearing her cowl even as she slept. The sunlight from the windows would hurt her eyes.

She had let her hair grow into a long, flowing, raven black cascade. Her skin remained the pale complexion similar to that of many vampires and the eerie red hunger that was ever present in her eyes would never change. She was slender and of average height. There really was nothing else to it. She basically looked as she had five years ago, maybe a bit more mature, maybe a bit more wiser...



Ylva whinced. Her breasts aching due to having slept on the wrong side. "Ow, ow, ow..." she hissed, kneading her chest.

She figured that she had herself to blame since the transformation that had occurred last night. She didn't know that anyone could get so mad over something as simple as missing the last step of a flight of stairs, but now she knew better.

She hadn't really changed much in terms of personality these five years, apart from being even more easily annoyed and angered than before, yet ever so full of life and easy-going. She definitely didn't see eye to eye with Bethany though, whom she would occasionally bicker with concerning all things trivial.

Physically she had changed alot. She now had shoulder-long dark red hair which was often tousled due to her constant transformations. Her freckles weren't as visible as they had been during her puberty. Though she was far from muscular, both her arms and her legs had been building up muscles to the point where she was content to call herself an "athletic girl", not to mention that she was an inch or two taller than most of the boys. She was somewhat... aggrieved though over how much she had filled out over her torso. The boys would often oogle at her, making her snap at them whenever she heard them remark on the ample size of her breasts.

Juliana had simply told her to ignore them and said that it was normal for them to find an interest in her body's appearance during this time, but that she didn't have to "take any bullshit" and thus was at liberty to topple them whenever she didn't like what she hear.

Ylva loved Juliana. She was the best woman to call "a mother away from home", always looking out for her girls and even being willing to stretch the rules whenever she found them to be ridiculously restraining.