Post by Adelas Blackmourne on May 18, 2013 17:33:57 GMT -5
MAY 18TH, 23 CLE
The carriage rolled over the cobblestones to the foot of the Institute of War. The campus was quite busy at this time, but it did not seem to affect to the nimble vessel, agilely dancing through the crowd of carriages. The carriage bore the dark blue crest with the signature golden lions, allowing the viewer to easily recognize that the vessel held a member of the Demacian nobility. Finally stopping before the entrance to the massive academy of summoning, the driver jumped down from his seat, grumbling. The ride to the Institute had not been short, the city-state of Demacia being much too far away for the steward of the Blackmourne family’s liking. He did not need to transport the eldest of the Blackmournes to the Institute. He could merely come for supper and go before the dessert was done. Those fancy nobles shouldn’t be allowed to wield the power of magic. It was a much too big responsibility for such weak men. Regardless, the steward did his duty. The door to the carriage was opened and its contents stepped out.
The youngest of his family looked around. The Institute was standing as strong as he had left it after graduating, its exterior a marvel of architecture. This was not what stunned Adelas, though. It was the sheer business of the campus, the limitless amount of species studying the art of summoning rushing through the grounds towards their next class. There had been hassle in the upper class stores back in Demacia, but never as much as on the trampled ground of the Institute. It was truly a sight to behold, even after having grown accustomed to it.
“Now that milord has been followed to the door, I presume he can open it himself?”
The steward allowed himself the snide remark, well knowing of Adelas’ jittery nature when it came to keeping others waiting. As if on cue, Adelas turned to him, having been lost in trance whilst looking at the crowd of robes sweeping across the desolate ground.
“Y-yes, of course. A door should not be a problem.”
He smiled cautiously, turning to walk towards the front door of the Institute before stopping and turning back around to the steward.
“But I believe my father would rather if I did not break my arms on my first day as a Bronze Summoner.”
Adelas began nonchalantly walking towards the reception hall, giving the steward the time to notice that the newly graduated Summoner had left his luggage as the steward’s responsibility. Adelas grinned to himself, as he stood before the gates, like many before him.
“Let us see what you have to offer.”
He patted the handle to the door, opening up for the new life at the familiar place.
He stood in the reception hall. He could clearly remember his first day at the Institute, basking in the grand view of the reception hall carved from marble. Now it merely acted as a gateway to the new life as a full-fledged Summoner. He stood there for a moment, allowing himself to take a break to just look around before slowly stepping forward to the reception desk.
As the steward caught up to him, Adelas began to walk towards his assigned study. His father had made a specific arrangement to give him one of the best rooms available to the newly graduated Bronze student.
(Continued in room post)
The carriage rolled over the cobblestones to the foot of the Institute of War. The campus was quite busy at this time, but it did not seem to affect to the nimble vessel, agilely dancing through the crowd of carriages. The carriage bore the dark blue crest with the signature golden lions, allowing the viewer to easily recognize that the vessel held a member of the Demacian nobility. Finally stopping before the entrance to the massive academy of summoning, the driver jumped down from his seat, grumbling. The ride to the Institute had not been short, the city-state of Demacia being much too far away for the steward of the Blackmourne family’s liking. He did not need to transport the eldest of the Blackmournes to the Institute. He could merely come for supper and go before the dessert was done. Those fancy nobles shouldn’t be allowed to wield the power of magic. It was a much too big responsibility for such weak men. Regardless, the steward did his duty. The door to the carriage was opened and its contents stepped out.
The youngest of his family looked around. The Institute was standing as strong as he had left it after graduating, its exterior a marvel of architecture. This was not what stunned Adelas, though. It was the sheer business of the campus, the limitless amount of species studying the art of summoning rushing through the grounds towards their next class. There had been hassle in the upper class stores back in Demacia, but never as much as on the trampled ground of the Institute. It was truly a sight to behold, even after having grown accustomed to it.
“Now that milord has been followed to the door, I presume he can open it himself?”
The steward allowed himself the snide remark, well knowing of Adelas’ jittery nature when it came to keeping others waiting. As if on cue, Adelas turned to him, having been lost in trance whilst looking at the crowd of robes sweeping across the desolate ground.
“Y-yes, of course. A door should not be a problem.”
He smiled cautiously, turning to walk towards the front door of the Institute before stopping and turning back around to the steward.
“But I believe my father would rather if I did not break my arms on my first day as a Bronze Summoner.”
Adelas began nonchalantly walking towards the reception hall, giving the steward the time to notice that the newly graduated Summoner had left his luggage as the steward’s responsibility. Adelas grinned to himself, as he stood before the gates, like many before him.
“Let us see what you have to offer.”
He patted the handle to the door, opening up for the new life at the familiar place.
He stood in the reception hall. He could clearly remember his first day at the Institute, basking in the grand view of the reception hall carved from marble. Now it merely acted as a gateway to the new life as a full-fledged Summoner. He stood there for a moment, allowing himself to take a break to just look around before slowly stepping forward to the reception desk.
As the steward caught up to him, Adelas began to walk towards his assigned study. His father had made a specific arrangement to give him one of the best rooms available to the newly graduated Bronze student.
(Continued in room post)