galliason

[galliason]

OCTOBER 2023:

total skill points: 4 -> 5

activity check +1: Gauntlet C -> C(1/2)

classes mastered: none

new classes accessed: none

rank rewards: none

current class: fighter

[galliason]

"Ah! My friend Skrimir!" Sigurd approaches with a laugh and a smile, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "I hope that you have made it through the rounds unscathed, as it were?"

Sigurd had not seen the results of all of the rounds, preoccupied with his own matches, but as the dust settled and the skeletal staff made to devour the mounds of candy, he had wanted at least to check in with some familiar faces.

"I hope you have many many friends this day, and acquired all the candy your heart desires - what an interesting game this has been! Enlightening."

Skrimir is pleased with what he has earned, and wholeheartedly has decided to present his winnings to Lord Sigurd. A promise is a promise, and he would not want to disappoint a small child over this, would he?

He triumphantly holds his candies out -- an offering, now, and it's obvious. He places them in his newfound friend's hand. "I have collected these for your little son. I hope he will be pleased with what I have gotten for him. This is a gift, to strengthen the bonds between Gallia and your nation as well."

He smiles, and pats Sigurd hard on the back. "And for us, my friend! How have you done in this game? How much candy will the little one have?"

[galliason]

Some of the stablehands have noticed the pegasi are growing restless, wings pinned and confined to their stables due to heavy snow. But, today is one of the first days that they can finally fly! As a result, they are eager - perhaps too eager - to get out there and take to the skies. The Monastery requires all hands on deck to ensure that these antsy group burn off as much energy as possible in the window of flight they have avaliable, and have taken to asking students and faculty to assist - will you take the reins? [Grants Flying +1]

He doesn't know why he was asked to complete this task. There is nothing about him that would suggest he even has the faintest idea how to ride a pegasus, let alone know anything about taming one. The fact that they asked him and not someone else makes Skrimir think that there are other more pressing -- and probably more interesting -- tasks that are being completed around the monastery.

He doesn't argue, however. There would be no point to that. He needs to show the faculty of Garreg Mach that he is worthy to be a professor, and perhaps one day he will achieve this goal. If that means that he must learn how to deal with creatures of flight, then he will.

There's someone else beside him, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you here for the pegasus, too?"

@ilmania

windows of flight.

[galliason]

@excalibris @bxldrsdraumar

[galliason]

to betray or not to betray.

[galliason]

Who cares about bows and arrows! You must fight with your chest out! Fight with your friends, and you must find a tactician worthy of your army!! This is the only way to win battles, little beorc. You must train hard!

If you can you should learn from great generals. There are a few here I have learned from, and that’s why I will become strong. Good luck, little beorc!!!

-Skrimir (I am a golden deer assistant please come spar with me and speak about tactics, I wish to learn.)

Can anybody help me with this question? I kept getting a strange answer, so I’d like a second opinion… it’s due by noon tomorrow, so I’d appreciate any help!

Professor, if you’re seeing this… no you aren’t.

(Tacked below is a question cleanly ripped right out of a workbook. You hope it isn’t one of the academy’s lent resources…)

Two armies, Red and Blue, of unequal strength are to face each other on the battlefield. The Blue army has the manpower of 3000 men, 1700 of whom are archers equipped with primarily longbows. The Red army has 5000 men, but only 890 archers equipped with shortbows. The rest of both armies are composed of foot soldiers, and no mages are present. The battlefield is composed of a distance 1000 yards long. When the Red army came within range, the Blue army commenced fire. For the purpose of this exercise, it is given that the average rate of fire and range for a longbow is 6 arrows per minute and 200 yards. The rate of fire is three times that of a shortbow, and twice the range. The Red army spent an average of 60 seconds to cross 100 yards. The probability of success per archer of both armies is considered to be 1/6. Using the following keys, calculate the effect of the arrows on the charging Red army. Then, state which army is victorious in this scenario, and justify your answer.

r = range of weapons

sa = speed of attacker

tfz = time in firing zone

rf = rate of fire

np = number of projectiles launched per weapon

wf = number of weapons firing

trf = total number of rounds fired

e = probability of effective rounds fired, which render an enemy incapacitated

nc = number of casualties

.

[galliason]

“Allies!” Skrimir says proudly, looking at both the two of them with his hands on his hips, and tilts his head to the sky to laugh happily. He would make Sir Sigurd’s son pleased with the bounty after all! It is important for little beorc to grow up big and strong. They must have their candies and their protein — both are equally important.

“I am looking forward to seeing how much we can all get together. I am pleased with how this turned out for us all.”

Remembering his manners, he stood up straight. He put a hand to his chest and bowed, just a little. “And I am going to learn how beorc make tea from Queen Elincia, if she is still willing to teach me. I would like to invite you both and we shall drink tea and have delicious cookies.”

He took a moment to wink at Lilian. “And no sparring.”

to betray or not to betray.

[galliason]

Skrimir had known that Sigurd was an honorable man! The two of them had allied with each other and what had happened? Ha! They had won! This was what he knew would happen.

But now there is a round two. He must do the same thing again, but he is not worried. Lilian is his friend -- he has decided this, at least -- and she has a very strong and honorable bond with the archbishop. Therefore, he knows she is honest.

The other girl is not someone he knows, but he trusts in the girl in the steamed room. He can tell she is a good person, he is not concerned.

"Hello, li--" he stops himself, Lilian said not to call people 'little'. He puffs out his chest. "Hello, my friends. I am Skrimir, and I will work with you so we may get the most candy."

He holds his candies out in his hand. Five of them, again more proof that he is truthful. "I will get as many of these as I can. There is a brave man named Lord Sigurd, he needs these for his son!"

@divinecrest

to betray or not to betray.

[galliason]

The Lion's Share

[galliason]

Sigurd is an good man. Skrimir could feel it in the handshake -- one that he took seriously, and forged between them what he assumed to be a bond of honor.

"I am on your side, too, Lord Sigurd," Skrimir said with determination. What an easy game to play! Only be honest and speak the truth. Then you will both win, this seemed the easiest course of action for the two of them.

"I have made a promise. I will give my candies to your son, and to prove this I will ally myself with you on this day. I will be loyal and you will do the same. This is how we will both win this game for children."

He put his hands on his hips and laughed. "I will not underestimate the great Sigurd. I have underestimated other beorc, and I will not do so again."

The Lion's Share

[galliason]

Hm. Skrimir never was one for sweets, nor did he know anyone in particular that enjoys them. For a moment he deliberated if he too should give his candies to Sigurd's son, but decided he wants to win the game first before he would do just that.

He'd followed along. Gain as many candies as you can to win. It's easy. He will not sink to low tactics in order to win this game. Skrimir knew how exactly to navigate this, he knew how beorc are -- with all their treachery.

Yet, some of them are honorable. He believed that of Lord Sigurd.

He puffed out his chest and grinned -- an expression that matched his newfound friend. "I will make you a deal, Lord Sigurd," he said, his voice loud and serious -- his grin widening. "After we get all of the candies and win this, we will give them to your little son. And then we will spar until one of us is too tired to continue on!"

The Lion's Share

[galliason]

"You must be Skrmir!" It is easy to identify him, as he stands head and shoulders above all others in the crowd, even Lionhearted Eldigan, whose moniker pales in comparison to the mane and fangs of the lions' scion.

Sigurd approaches easily, heart open for all to see, and extends a hand. "I am Sigurd. I hope you have not come to rob me of all my candy - I'm afraid even a man such as myself would struggle against your might."

He laughs at his own joke, self-deprecating on the facade, but in his heart he knows that the battle would be a close one, if ever there were to be.

He hopes not, though, and the crease in his eyes makes this apparent as he claps the young man on the shoulder. "I should like to see more of a man like you, I think. You exactly the sort I believe this academy needs, if I may be so bold. Perhaps you might join me on the training pitch some day in the near future. King Diamant and myself, we have begun a little, oh, club, I suppose you might call it. For those of us who are rather more physical-minded."

So. This is the beorc who wanted to steal his precious candy?

He's learned that there are many strong beorc -- he had not forgotten the fight with General Zelgius -- and will not underestimate this strong blue one. Skrimir had decided already that he would guard his little treats so that he may win this game in the end.

He held the candies in his hand and frowned. "If you are trying to convince me to give you my candies, it will not work," he said, serious. He'd learned the trickery of those around him, he will not fall for it again! Even if this man is very strong-looking. A worthy opponent.

Though, the topic of a fitness club does make him perk up. He looks at him and tilts his head. That's the sort of thing that he's been looking for, after all.

"Okay, Lord Sigurd. Never mind this game. I would like to join your club. We can forget about the little candies and we can spar!"

[galliason]

One day, you find yourself waking up thoroughly sore, scraping yourself off the floor of a Monastery classroom. As you strain to remember how you wound up there, you catch sight of your hand – except it’s not yours. Nor are the clothes you now wear, or the body beneath them. Your actual self is standing opposite you, staring back in shock and… covered in dust? Before things spiral further, the professor attempts to quell the growing chorus of unrest with an explanation, which also serves to jog your memory. This was supposed to be a seminar showcasing the magical properties of a magic tool from Tellius known as Warp Powder. Unfortunately, its volatile nature lends itself to many potential side-effects if mishandled… one of which is ripping people’s souls out and depositing them into the nearest acceptable vessel. The unbothered professor assures everyone that this “minor inconvenience” will wear off on its own eventually, and that the Monastery will still be expecting the completion of your usual assignments and duties in the meantime. [Grants Any Weapon +1]

Skrimir has been missing his daily training sessions, sure. Perhaps his meal plans have fallen off a bit -- he's not eating enough protein. But there is absolutely no reason why he would be so...

Well. He is very small. He does not like this.

He extends his arms in front of him and looks at the robes that he wears. The pieces of the puzzle are not so quickly coming together; it's not that he's stupid, it's more that he does not have all the information that is necessary to comprehend that--

"I am so small."

He stomps his foot down onto the ground and a bolt of pain shoots up into his thigh. He winces, and turns around to look at the other people in the area.

"Who has made me tiny?! Come out now and fight me!"

@pryings

bro we got to get you a gym membership.

[galliason]

This is probably the most crestfallen Skrimir has looked in a long time.

He looks at the ground and considers the girl's words. Of course, a rumor is not always true -- he had not thought that far ahead, and had let hope guide him to this place. He wanted nothing more than a chance to fight, and to show his skills in sparring.

"It's not your fault," he says honestly. Because it is not. Still, the slope of his shoulders and the noticeable droop in his posture leads him to look almost pathetic. Like a wet cat.

He instead takes a seat and huffs, the exhale of his nose creating a dissatisfied noise. "I wanted to have a good fight," he says, in case he had not already made that obvious, "And no one would fight me on the training grounds! I have been there already. There are only fake beorc dolls and bad wooden swords. I have broken two tonight."

He looks over at the girl and frowns more. He's probably irritating her, and taking up too much of her time. He doesn't want to be a nuisance, but he also doesn't want to leave just yet. The steam is... sort of relaxing.

"Why would someone lie about fighting in the hot room?"

i heard they let people fight in this school. neat.

[galliason]

The shock on Soren's face did not register with Skrimir. Or, rather, it did -- he just was so elated to have found him that he didn't seem to care. That, and the implication of Soren being there meant that there may very well be others around that he knew. He grinned, putting all these pieces together as the two of them were tied together.

He was used to Soren's grimaces and irritated glances. Probably not as much as the great General Ike was, but Skrimir had gotten used to the quirks of the little tactician over time. So when he said he was not interested in a prize, he shrugged.

"We will split the prize anyway," he said, his voice loud and uncaring. While others had turned to look at the frankly ridiculous display (Soren's much smaller form tied to the large, nearly six and a half foot tall lion laguz) Skrimir just kept himself focused.

"Don't worry! I will carry you. All you need to do it hold on tight. You will tell me where to go, and I will go there. I promise to listen to you the whole time!"

( he would probably end up not doing that. )

my strategist now :)

[galliason]

The handwriting is messy, blocky, and clunky. It reads:

This is easy. What you will do is you will have your partner fight your friends in an honorable battle. The winner can cast judgement on the loser.

If this does not work, the solution is simple. Get a different partner. If he is a man he should beg your forgiveness. Everyone knows that a a woman is in charge of everything, especially a husband. I do not know if that is your situation, but if it is you should know that men are only good at fighting and keeping his people safe. If he is not making your friends and you happy, he is failing.

I suggest going to speak with the Great General Ike. He knows many things about beorc customs. Also I will fight your husband if he needs to learn how to be a better mate.

-Skrimir

I am having a difficult time fostering a relationship between my friends and my partner. It means a great deal to me that my friends, at the very least, accept my love for him even if they do not like him themselves. What can I do to show them that our love for each other is genuine and he is not the villain they believe him to be?

ㅤ

[galliason]

It was just a stupid game. That was all this was supposed to be. A cheesy school superstition, meant to spook new students as some twisted rite of passage. You only needed to sneak into a secret crypt beneath the Monastery and spend the night to secure the bragging rights – the hardest part should have been getting past the guards! But no… The real problem, you now realize, is the monster of this so-called “myth” – what it called a ‘golem’, beckoned from the inky depths of the crypt by the sound of your footsteps. It wears the helm of a man, but the rest of its gigantic body is anything but human. With snake-like arms that can twist in any direction, thickly woven sinews of steel cable barely hidden behind a massive, lion-faced chestplate, and a lance that can carve very REAL craters out of stone with a flick – logic says this thing shouldn’t be moving. But it is, and its hollow ‘gaze’ is now squarely on you. When magic bounces off of it like rain, and even the sturdiest sword barely leaves a scratch, your only remaining hopes of survival are to pray you find the exit in this darkness, or pry open its vulnerable innards. [Grants Axe +1]

"King Kurthnaga of the Dragon Tribe," Skrimir says, because he does not know if he should use the entirety of a dragon's title he figures it is better to be safe, "Are you sure we are headed to the right place?"

He does not know these crypts, and he does not know how to act around a dragon king. King Dheginsea made him incredibly nervous, and though Kurthnaga seems much kinder and more open than his father he still is uneasy. Beorc he understands. Treacherous ravens, pretty herons, strong hawks -- these all are what he has had the chance to learn about. But dragons?

He will try not to make any assumptions. He hopes that they can become friends, even -- Skrimir still plans to be the future king of Gallia, and he will work hard to make Goldoa and Gallia allies. That's easier when the rulers get along.

Though walking through the crypts and investigating what is supposed to be a terrifying creature no doubt is an inefficient way of doing things. Skrimir rationalizes it by showing that should danger come, he is reliable in a fight and ready to work together. He's grown so much these past few years, and he's proud of himself.

And he's not afraid of the golems.

"Do you think there is something down here, or is it all lies and tricks?"

@goldoanheart

two future kings & a very scary creature