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- Nov 3, 2021
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Falbreck College
Braeroch, the Wyrdwood Moon of Mabino
Fall moved like a slow ripple across the surface of the Wyrwycky's home moon, vibrant green giving way to brilliant golds, oranges, and reds. Leaves fell like petals from sakura blossoms, adding color and vibrancy to the world beneath the expansive boughs of the Wyrdwood.
One corner of this world was Braeroch, de facto capital of the Wyr. Here governed the Wyr Ring, that august body of witches who lead their people in words once they could no longer do so through action. Their candles still burned, their wicks getting shorter, but their wisdom and experience made them too valuable to snuff so soon. So was born the Falbreck College, the most prominent of the many schools for War Witches. The teachers these days were not usually of the Ring, but that didn't lower the school's standings in the slightest.
The city was covered in carefully-managed bonfires and offerings of food were set out for Samhain. The boundaries between life and death were said to be thinnest this time of year, so the festival had long been established as a way to show respect to the departed - and keep the fae folk from causing problems.
Autumn is a time of change, and so too was it for Falbreck. The school sprawled across the forest floor, illuminated by the occasional shaft of light that broke the canopy and hundreds of glowing blue orbs that clung to trees and floated in the air. Its gates had the look of wrought iron, though closer inspection revealed them to be some sort of pleasantly decorative thorny vine. A collection of War Witch hopefuls and aspiring craftsmen grew slowly in front of it.
As the city outside focused on remembering those who were gone, this next generation of could-be heroes prepared to leave their own mark on history.
-----
Inside the school, the teachers watched with interest to see just what they had to work with. None of the girls would truly know the Wyrd yet, though all had shown the spark. None of the craftsmen had even a hint of how a cauldron was made, but the talent was there. How they manifested their potential was what they were interested in. And if they would make it to the end.
"I suppose it's my turn to welcome the new generation this Samhain," said one teacher, hopping down from a desk. A broad white witch's cap matched her equally pristine outfit. Delicate lace work lined the edges and accents. A large patch covering half her face followed the same design. Her heels clack-clacked as she walked.
One of the others raised a flexed arm in salute. "Good luck!"
-----
A hulking youth in rough leathers and a thick craftsman's apron stood at the gates, appraising the witches-to-be as they gathered. He, like most of the other young men here, would be tasked with creating the tools that allowed them to better harness their new powers.
Of course, he'd never made one before, but that's why he was here, right? The women fought and the men gave them the means to do so effectively. It was a partnership as old as his people and one he was proud to carry forward.
-----
A girl sat near the gates, her attention focused solely on some game on her phone. She showed no interest towards the gates or the newcomers, though she wasn't fooling anyone with her early arrival. HIGH SCORE flashed on her phone as she clicked to start a new round.
Braeroch, the Wyrdwood Moon of Mabino
Fall moved like a slow ripple across the surface of the Wyrwycky's home moon, vibrant green giving way to brilliant golds, oranges, and reds. Leaves fell like petals from sakura blossoms, adding color and vibrancy to the world beneath the expansive boughs of the Wyrdwood.
One corner of this world was Braeroch, de facto capital of the Wyr. Here governed the Wyr Ring, that august body of witches who lead their people in words once they could no longer do so through action. Their candles still burned, their wicks getting shorter, but their wisdom and experience made them too valuable to snuff so soon. So was born the Falbreck College, the most prominent of the many schools for War Witches. The teachers these days were not usually of the Ring, but that didn't lower the school's standings in the slightest.
The city was covered in carefully-managed bonfires and offerings of food were set out for Samhain. The boundaries between life and death were said to be thinnest this time of year, so the festival had long been established as a way to show respect to the departed - and keep the fae folk from causing problems.
Autumn is a time of change, and so too was it for Falbreck. The school sprawled across the forest floor, illuminated by the occasional shaft of light that broke the canopy and hundreds of glowing blue orbs that clung to trees and floated in the air. Its gates had the look of wrought iron, though closer inspection revealed them to be some sort of pleasantly decorative thorny vine. A collection of War Witch hopefuls and aspiring craftsmen grew slowly in front of it.
As the city outside focused on remembering those who were gone, this next generation of could-be heroes prepared to leave their own mark on history.
-----
Inside the school, the teachers watched with interest to see just what they had to work with. None of the girls would truly know the Wyrd yet, though all had shown the spark. None of the craftsmen had even a hint of how a cauldron was made, but the talent was there. How they manifested their potential was what they were interested in. And if they would make it to the end.
"I suppose it's my turn to welcome the new generation this Samhain," said one teacher, hopping down from a desk. A broad white witch's cap matched her equally pristine outfit. Delicate lace work lined the edges and accents. A large patch covering half her face followed the same design. Her heels clack-clacked as she walked.
One of the others raised a flexed arm in salute. "Good luck!"
-----
A hulking youth in rough leathers and a thick craftsman's apron stood at the gates, appraising the witches-to-be as they gathered. He, like most of the other young men here, would be tasked with creating the tools that allowed them to better harness their new powers.
Of course, he'd never made one before, but that's why he was here, right? The women fought and the men gave them the means to do so effectively. It was a partnership as old as his people and one he was proud to carry forward.
-----
A girl sat near the gates, her attention focused solely on some game on her phone. She showed no interest towards the gates or the newcomers, though she wasn't fooling anyone with her early arrival. HIGH SCORE flashed on her phone as she clicked to start a new round.