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Post by Atticus Daegal on Dec 6, 2014 17:30:49 GMT
Today had proven thus far to be a very interesting day. Once Atticus was free from the tyranny of the flagpole by the annoyed teacher, he spent the next thirty minutes in her office attempting to explain how it was not his fault. This was a common practice for him. Ever since the... incident... he had been looked upon with fear and mistrust. Whenever there was trouble in his proximity, regardless if he was to blame or not, he would find himself in someone's personal study trying to tell his side of the story and being summarily ignored. Today would prove no different. He sighed, watching the woman pull out a large file and mark yet another paper with a bright red stamp to indicate misconduct which she forcefully stuffed into the already too-thick binder on her desk. Atticus didn't even hear her words as she berated him for not telling the truth (since he refused to give a name or a description of his assailant, she wrongfully deduced that meant he was guilty). He simply stared at the binder, wondering why it was that with all these false charges the grand mages hadn't thrown him out on his ear by now. Surely, if he were a regular student, no one would tolerate that level of indecency, real or imagined. Regardless what the rhyme or reason, exactly one half-hour passed before he was free to go. Curious that his disciplinary meetings as of late seemed to end on that exact time schedule. He'd have to research any correlation between the number thirty and the forces of the universe.
He walked slower afterwards. He did have his books to return to, but a part of him wished for the library to be clear of students who had witnessed the whole account before he arrived. It was difficult enough to ignore regular whispers and rumors - he didn't care to deal with giggles and fresh gossip as well. As Atticus passed through the courtyard, he spotted something unusual taking place. A few guards were chasing what appeared to be a wild boar through the brambles of flower bushes lining the walkways. Naturally, the hooded wizard assumed at first that perhaps the evening's ham had escaped or perhaps one of the more wryly students had decided to make merry. That was - until the boar passed right by him.
"Help me!!" rang clearly in Atticus' mind. He turned in place to look after the beast as the guards went charging past. It was not a voice Atticus had not heard before. Rather, it was his own good sense telling him that something was wrong. Made curious by this phenomenon, the robed figure changed course slightly, moving off at a perpendicular angle to his original path. After all, it would be silly to go chasing after the group when clearly even the guards were having trouble gaining on the beast at full speed.
Only a moment passed before the boar came circling back, charging directly into the new path Atticus had set for himself. Calculating the time necessary to cast the spell and the current trajectory of the animal, he slowly reached down about his feet to collect a small pinch of sand and began to focus. Moments passed like hours as the animal rushed forward and the wizard primed his willpower. "Three... two..." he muttered to himself, the distances becoming shorter and shorter. Without a moment to spare, he tossed the sand into the path of the pig. Sparkles of arcane magic floated about the animal's eyes as it fell into immediate slumber, toppling and sliding across the ground before coming to a forced stop at the base of an elaborate rose display. The two guards who had been chasing the creature were shortly behind, breathing hard as they too came to a much more controlled stop.
"Hey... thanks... sir..." one of them wheezed. "We've been... chasing that... pig forever now."
"What exactly happened?" Atticus asked, looking over the two with mild interest.
"Some chef accidentally let the pig out. Now that it's knocked out we can get it back to the kitchens for the butcher."
Atticus paused a moment, looking back to the beast before considering his next actions. He could tell the two guards were annoyed, probably pulled away from the task they were assigned and afraid that they might face repercussions for abandoning their post. He would make use of this. He reached to the leather and brass material components case wrapped about his waist and produced a small vial of mercury. "If it pleases you gentlemen..." he said softly, nodding lightly to emphasize his desire to be helpful, "... I will transport your boar to the kitchens for you. I can tell you are busy men and would probably wish to return to your posts so you can put this awful mess behind you. On your way, you may wish to contact a gardener since several of the hydrangeas seem to be badly damaged..."
The two guards looked to one another a moment before nodding. "Good idea..." one said before punching the other's shoulder. "You get the gardener. I'll go make sure Madame Damara's carriage hasn't been tampered with while we were gone."
They left Atticus behind, going off their separate ways to do their jobs as best they could. The wizard couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight of two good soldiers trying their best to do their jobs. It was a refreshing change from the various tales he'd read about corrupt politicians and crooked guards. Uncorking the vial, Atticus poured a small amount of liquid mercury onto the ground, his eyes closed as he willed one of his cantrips into existence. The mercury spread quickly and dissipated into a shimmering disc of force which by the wizard's will slid itself underneath the sleeping animal nearby and lifted it three feet off the ground. Carefully corking the bottle with the remaining amount (about half the contents), Atticus slipped his material component into its compartment within the case before gesturing for the disc to follow him.
But he did not go to the kitchens. Instead, Atticus found himself walking all the way to the counter spell laboratories located in the basement levels of one of the towers dedicated to beginner's transmutation. Luckily, the classroom was empty at the moment, as the teacher had arranged for the class to meet elsewhere. Something to do with avoiding the head of the Transmutation College from finding them, since he was spotted on campus not too long ago. This worked out well for Atticus, who set the boar on one of the large tables situated at the front of the stadium-style room. Reaching over to collect a few supplies, he began the process of checking his hypothesis.
Using a pair of tweezers, Atticus plucked a single hair from the boar's back and set it inside a dish for later use. He then gathered a few chemicals from the table's various compartments and began to mix them together to form a very simple blue solution inside a large test tube. Fastening this tube to a metal contraption to hold it still, Atticus reached over to the other side of the table and grabbed a small oil burner which he lit using a set of flint and steel he kept on hand to avoid wasting a spell for the day for the very mundane task of lighting fires. He slid this under the suspended test tube and allowed it to sit long enough for the solution to begin bubbling lightly. Finally, for the moment of truth, Atticus took the tweezers in hand once more and plucked the hair from the dish once more. In one fluid motion, he moved the hair over the test tube and dropped it in. Instantly, the solution turned from a clear, clean blue, to a urine-like tint of yellow.
"Well, just as I suspected then..." said the robed wizard before looking over to the still sleeping animal. "You're a student after all. From this color, from Shoggoth and an Evoker. I wonder if you're my acquaintance from earlier...?" he mused. "Lucky for you I happened to have read Mialee's dissertation on the identification of transmuted individuals and common cures..." he chuckled lightly.
After extinguishing the flame on the burner, Atticus moved to a nearby supply closet, checking the contents therein. The common ingredients were all here: various bits and pieces of unusual animals, snippets of rare plants, spore and fungus collections... ah! There was the very thing he needed! On the floor, near the back, was a small barrel marked "sweat of a slovenly man". A rare ingredient, indeed, but if there was anywhere in all the world he would find it, it would be in a classroom at the Rainbow Tower! Bending down, Atticus struggled to place the round wooden casket on its side so he could roll it closer to the table. He pushed and heaved, making slow progress due to his... rather unusual lack of mass in the world, but he did succeed in moving the barrel all the same.
Atticus unplugged the barrel and slid a bucket which was stored under the table into position. He poured the foul-smelling liquid inside, enough that he could lift it but not so little that it wouldn't take effect. He corked the barrel once more to ensure no accidents occurred before hefting the bucket onto the table. "I certainly hope that scroll wasn't mis-informed..." he mused to himself. With a heave, he poured the sweat onto the pig.
Instantly, the beast popped back into the form of the bully he had encountered less than an hour before. He was stirred awake by both the transformation into his natural shape and the liquid splashing his face. "WHO WHAA???" he bellowed as he tried to shake the unpleasant odor from his body. He glared around at first, but when his eyes fell upon the robed wizard, he seemed to soften. "I woz... a pig weren't I?" he asked slowly, his memory of the horrible experience coming back.
"Yes..." Atticus responded calmly, the bucket still in his hands.
"An'... you helped me?" the bully asked again, dumbfounded.
"Yes..."
"Why'd ya go an' do a thing like that?"
"Because," answered Atticus, "to cause ill on another student is your way... to forgive is mine." The black-robed wizard shrugged lightly, hoping that would suffice as an explanation.
"I..." the bully began, but trailed off. He looked at his meaty hands, still coated in the stench of the sweat before looking back to his savior. "Is there anythin' I can do... to repay ya?"
As quickly as the man asked, Atticus handed the bucket he held to the man. "If you would be so kind as to take the blame for using school resources without permission, I'd be grateful..." he said, then began walking away briskly. He didn't want to get caught here, especially after taking the blame for hoisting himself up a flagpole earlier. He also didn't want the brute to put two and two together that he was still in trouble if they were caught (or he was) and to change his mind about how generous he was feeling as a result. Besides, having done a good deed today, Atticus felt the desire to reward himself with a good book or several dozen. He was about mid-way through a harrowing tale of a barbarian seeking honor in the monster-siege'd mead hall of King Rothgar...
Passing the doors of the beginner's transmutation tower, Atticus could see on the massive courtyard sundial that nearly an hour had passed since he had been allowed down from the flagpole. He scooted along swiftly, hoping not to draw attention to himself as he made his way to the library. He hoped his corner had not been disturbed. It had only been an hour, surely the librarians wouldn't have gone and put everything away already? Doubling his pace, Atticus made his way to the doors, but what he saw when he arrived would immediately disappoint him.
Standing at the entrance was a squat undead troll that was looking around for something. The instant its eyes fell on Atticus, however, it was obvious that it was looking for him. With a sigh, the wizard submitted to being guided where the creature willed, since it was obviously non-hostile (it hadn't attacked anyone, obviously) and seemed to be intent on guiding him to the main tower.
"Fantastic..." Atticus muttered to himself as he went along. "I suppose I should have known that brute would tell the headmaster rather than clean the mess himself..."
((To A Court of Hot Air...))
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