[After the matches on the Gym Field, the Practical Exam clock moves forward another tick to 5/8. There's a few days left before the exam, about which Instructor Oren is remaining mum.
In this interlude time, each player will get a chance to dictate two actions.  These include things like:

1. Start or work on a project. (course project or otherwise). Make an action check and describe how the chosen action helps make progress on your project.
   
2. Have a scene. You set the scene and clarify the intent of it; you can include and exclude one character. Other players can request to join at your discretion as well. Scenes can alter the relationship between characters and award you Friend or Rival tokens for future interactions.  If there's multiples of these, we can break them down into mini-threads.
   
3. Just rest. Gain back 2 Effort, and heal 1 Strain.
   
4. Club activities. Make an action check and describe what club activities you get up to.  Participating in clubs can award you Club tokens which can be used in place of Effort when making club-relevant actions, and possibly Friend or Rival tokens with other club members as well.

You can choose two different actions, or two of the same; the list above isn't exhaustive, so if you think of something else you'd like to do, we can work together to figure it out. Let me know if you have any questions!]

Sylara had been carefully scheming her plan during the first few weeks. She had thought of a lot of complicated schemes to achieve her goal, but ultimately decided to go for a simple one. If it didn't work, she could always fall back to the more extravagant ideas in her notepad.

A few hours before lunch, Sylara set camp at the base of the Mage's Tower. She had observed Instructor Allcote going in, and was hoping to catch him on his way out. As fanatic as Instructor Allcote was towards his projects, he would have to eat at some point, and it was well known that eating inside the Mage Tower was a VERY bad idea (lots of alchemical compounds that could contaminate the food and viceversa). Sylara had even considered bringing some sort of treat as a form of tribute for the Instructor to spend a few minutes talking with her, but ultimately decided that she wasn't quite sure what a strix-kin like him would like, or if she may accidentally offend him by bringing something that was against his culture. She definitely needed to learn more about the other kin to avoid commiting social suicide in the future.

Sitting down on one of the stone structures nearby the entrance, she started going through one of the scrolls the Instructor had left at the Literature Club on one of his rare visits. While it was true that the scroll had caught her interest and she was looking forward to decipher the code these notes were written in, Sylara would be lying if she didn't admit that the main reason she brought it here was to gain browny points with the Instructor.

And so, scroll and notepad in hand, she got to work while she waited for Culuu Allcote to show himself.

Interlude Action 1: Just Rest

Interlude Action 2: Work on Class Project

After the meeting with Instructor Oren, Vaulda was feeling rather annoyed. Of all the punishments, that one had to be the worst. There was nothing she could do about it now and couldn’t stand staying in bed to recover any longer. Her ribs were still sore but not as bad as they had been. The worst part was the scab under her chin itched enough to drive her nearly insane. Rubbing at the scab with the back of her hand, she made her way down the road to the town center. She’d been putting out feelers every visit, subtle questions here and there.

Every town had one, just sometimes they were harder to find. In this case, it seemed to be a one legged man that liked to warm himself by the fire at the tavern. Tugging down her skirt, she pushed her long hair back over her shoulder. She’d washed and brushed it out to form soft waves. People had always told her that her hair was beautiful, she found it more annoying than anything which is why is was worn in a braid most of the time. Walking down the road, she smiled to those she passed, waved at a few fellow students. Apparently her antics from a few days ago had spread. Ah well, better to be known for something insane than not known at all.

Entering the darkened tavern, she glanced over to the fire, spotting her target. Heading to the bar she ordered a Rodanthe Ale, inwardly cringing as she handed over a good chunk of her limited spending money. Hopefully it would be worth it. Ale in hand, she made her best attempt at a seductive saunter.

Settling into the chair across from the one legged man, she placed down the mug in front of him, crossing her legs and for once not tugging down the annoyingly short skirt. ”Hello handsome. Word is you’re the kind of crazy I’m looking for.” Smiling, she nodded toward the mug. ”Payment for your time and company.”

<Contingency - Vaulda’s been putting out feelers for the entire semester to find someone that has contacts among the various Mercenary Companies and serves as a contract broker. Due to the location, the town was likely to have one. She’s found his description and name as his favorite drink. As well as learned he has a fondness for the ladies. She’s hoping to use that combination to help convince him to tell her something about the contract the Blades of Solace took. She’ll be using charm if all goes well to convince him to help.

Using 1 Effort

21:06, Today: Vaulda Nasar rolled 7 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,4.  Interlude - Contingency plus Effort. – 7 >

The man took the Ale, lifting it in a salute before taking a deep gulp. “And just why would a man like me attract the attention of a pretty lady like yourself?” Vaulda caught his eyes moving along her legs.

”I heard you were just the kind of man was looking for. A man of the world. One who knew the way things worked. Especially among the Companies.” She straightened out her legs, keeping her ankles crossed. Once more his eyes followed her legs, making her smile. He raised his brows in curiosity but didn’t confirm or deny her words.

Smiling, she tilted her head, letting her long hair fall over her shoulder as she leaned forward slightly. ”My cousin joined up with the Blades of Solace. He’s practically my brother. I’d received a few letters here and there but nothing lately and I’m worried about him. So I was hoping you might help ease my mind by telling me a little bit about what they’re up to.”

<21:23, Today: Vaulda Nasar rolled 7 using 2d6 with rolls of 4,3.  Interlude - Charm. – 7>

The long shadow of the tower stretches, making the chill of the sea air even colder in the dim.  Further on, you can spy other students studying in the SalteBox; your vigil is occasionally broken by other cadets bursting out of the tower itself, hands full of potion boxes, faces pinched against the cold and the unspoken urgency of their schedule as they hurry across the bridge.  Gulls cackle overhead in the endless search for food.

Then, your gambit bears fruit.  The doors to the tower slam open once against, and in a cloud of falling paper, trailing scrolls, and a floating rock or two, Instructor Allcote bumbles their way down the stone steps, their fuliginous robe flapping in the wind like the wings of a bat. So distracted are they that when you clear your throat and step into their path, they shriek.

"Ahh!" they hiss, clack their beak, and leap back, clutching as much of their literature to them as they can. "What! What? How dare you? Merest gasp away from incineration! "  One of the orbiting stones sparks, then explodes in a burst of bright purple light.  The Instructor's orange eyes flit to the aftermath.  Some of their feathers ruffle.  "Ech, yes yes, eating, already late, already late..."

"Didn't hear it from me."  The man wipes the foam of the ale from his upper lip.  "But word is the Blades signed on to something big - big enough that they aren't taking side work, much to my chagrin I can tell ya. And some say it's out of Rodanthe."  He leans in and whispers, his breath alcohol-sour.  "Something's up. Almost all the big Vagabonds are contracted on something.  The Bloodsails, Dead Gemini - they're all booked.  It's taking coin outta my hands!"

[Vaulda's contingency preparations have paid off! In addition to your partial success for charming the broker, your contingency increases the effect of your success.  Your Course Project Clock increases to 2/6.]

Sylara flinches as the stome sparks, but once the danger seems to have passed she turns back to it, marveled at... no, wait, that's not why she is here.

"Apologies for startling you, Instructor. I'll walk with you as to not slow you down"

Sylara's voice comes out a little gaspy as she keeps up with the rushed pace of the Instructor.

"I am one of the first year members of the literature club. I heard from my seniors that you have tasked members of the club with scouting ruins in the past, but I got the sense that you were a bit... unsatisfied with how lazy and undriven they were in completing these tasks. I know that the Academy isn't keen in sending first years into assignements like those... but I believe that you don't let rules like those get in the way of discovering new hidden knowledge. Is that true?"

The bait wasn't subtle, but it didn't need to be. If Sylara was right, Allcote wouldn't need convincing. She just needed his attention.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 5):

There was no need to feign surprise at the man’s words. As he leaned in, she did the same, biting the inside of her cheek to hide the disgust at his breath. Leaning back, she didn’t bother hiding her feelings as she processed the information. Big enough to attract all the big Vagabonds, even ones at odds with each other. The Dead Gemini were used as a curse among her old Company. And outside of Rodanthe. Unable to come up with anything plausible she leaned forward once more. ”Any whispers as to what it might be? As you can tell I’m with the Academy. Something that big probably means war, which means they may just decide half a year of study is all that's needed before tossing us to the front lines. Think it will shadow our doorstep? I know how those noble...” her lips sneered at the word before she spit  at the fire to show her opinion on the matter.

”...generals think. That a proper military will win the day but they forget the Vagabonds are the ones doing the real dirty work, paving the road with bodies for their victory parade. If they’ve all been contracted already…” She let the thought trail off. He worked with Vagabonds, he knew where she was heading. The land and people still hadn’t recovered from the last war, another one would destroy kingdoms.

<Let me know if I need another roll if this isn’t still covered by the earlier Charm.>

More papers and parchment catch the wind and trail from the Instructor as they hurry across the bridge with you in tow.  Quick, annoyed glances confirm that you're still there as you go through your explanation.

"Eh? First year. Yes, Class...eh, Ten? No. Irrelevant. Literature Club? Ah! Yes, yes. Useless bunch. No drive. No initiative!"  Another stone bursts by Allcote's hood into a cupric cloud of color.  "Ech! Fine, fine, no lunch then, fish soup later."

At this, the Instructor stops dead, turns, and points a quivering claw at you.  "Wait. First year?  Off to Rodanthe soon, yes?" Their eyes gleam beneath the hood.  "Yes, yes! The exchange!  That old hollow-head..." Their gaze snaps this way and that, following some course of thought you couldn't possibly guess.  "Ahh, blast you, blast! Bendur's Annals of Heroes will suffice.  It better! Ech!"

Suddenly Allcote focuses on you again.  "Island. The big one, east of Spearpoint, bunch of little ones all around it.  Old archive. Find Bendur's text inside, then bring with you when you go to Rodanthe.  Give to Mayterwaite at the Royal Library, bring back what he gives."  The Instructor's feather ruffle in irritation, turning and hurrying again off the bridge.  "He knows what he did. Ech!"

[@Vaulda no additional roll needed, its covered by your initial Charm roll.]

He chuckles, a smug smile on his unshaven face.  "If it's war, then I'm glad I invested in a Mandrachan smithy down in Red Gate and a cottage in the Pale."  He shrugs, sips from the ale again.  "I couldn't tell ya, love, truly. Only a few players got enough to pay for all of a Company's attention, let alone multiple. Could be posturing. Could be security. Some body knows, but whoever they are are much higher up than me." A burp surprises him. "Ooh! I'm sure it'll all blow over, and I'll be back taking my cut from the deals."

Sylara smiles. Instructor Allcote was hard to follow, both literally and metaphorically, but once you catch up to him he is as full of information as the rumors say. He'd love to keep asking questions, but she got the feeling that keeping Culuu Allcote for longer than he deemed necessary was a terrible idea. So she smiled bright, nodded her head and turned around.

So, they were going to Rodanthe... did that refer to the practical exam? Or maybe there was a trip scheduled to hear the King's speech? At any rate, before that she needed to procure Bendur's Annals of Heroes from an archive in the island to the east...

After quickly scribbling down all this information in her notepad, Sylara headed straight for the library. She needed more information. Old maps of the region may have the location of the archive, for starters. She also knew very little of this particular island. Did it even have a name, or was it just considered part of Spearpoint? There was also the issue of travel time. It didn't sound too far, but she may still need to skip a class or two to go there and back... and travelling alone was also probably a bad idea. Maybe some of Class Nine would be up for some adventure, or even fellow members of the literature club... she'd have to ask them later. So exciting!

In reply to Game Master (msg # 9):

Snorting, Vaula smiled. ”Figures you got other fingers in many pies. Wouldn’t be much of a broker if you didn’t, would you? Thanks. Not sure I feel better or worse for the knowing.” Standing she patted his shoulder as she passed by to head out. ”Hope business gets back to normal soon.” Pausing a moment she headed back around into view with a smile. ”Don’t suppose you’d be willing to share the names of the possible players? Might help with one of my classes.”

"Eh? Oh, uhm..." the broker sets down his mug and counts off fingers.  "Well, ya got the big players, like the Crown, the Mandrachy, and Crowsend - those recluses in the Free East got deep pockets - but some of the major Houses have enough clout to make a move like this, too, if they thought the message or the gamble was worth the coin." He shrugs.  "House Tatterban has the coffers, probably. Melfisse definitely does; devil money, eh?"  He wiggles his fingers and chuckles.  "I hear there's some off-shoot Borinian sects in the South that might could scrape together that kind of scratch, but I've never personally seen any cult measure up to the kit even the smallest Companies use, so. Grain of salt."

[@Sylara, great scene!  You gain 2 Club tokens for Literature Club.
During narrative play, you can spend Club tokens like Effort in pursuit of specifically Club activities and goals. During tactical play in which the combat is in pursuit of Club activities or goals, you can spend Club tokens to give yourself or an ally a boon +1 on their next attack roll.
I'll open a Token thread soon so this info is easily available!]

In reply to Game Master (msg # 12):

”Thank you my friend. I owe you another drink once I have some more pocket money.” Filing away the names, she gave a little bow and headed out. As soon as she was out of the tavern she tugged down on her skirt with a grumble. At least the stupid thing was useful. Heading back toward the academy she debated what to do next. Anything in the library would be old information but might give her ideas as to why the power players would want to hire so many Companies. Rubbing at the scab with the back of her hand, she returned to her room to get rid of the damnable skirt. Research could wait for another day, she had more than enough reading while resting as her ribs healed. Maybe she’d find someone in the common rooms up for a game.

Activity 1: Resting!

Cal, feeling like this past week has lasted more than a month, spends a bit of time affixing a hammock between two trees behind the dormitory and lays out there for most of the day, with a leg hanging off and the occasional drool falling out of the corner of his mouth too.

Activity 2: Field Hockey Club

Cal hops onto the field for the first day of Hockey practice. His easy grin is threatened as he rounds the corner of the gymnasium and onto the practice field and bears witness to the rest of the team. Rion's there, of course, but beyond that is a continuous series of some of the largest dudes Cal has ever seen in his life. From Troggs of the usual variety to Beastfolk of the larger variety, Cal even notices a couple of stocky Thrynn doing some stretching and preparing for the practice as well. Cal lets out the barest of sighs and, despite himself, cannot quite suppress a gulp before it happens.

Cal knows who he is, and that who he is is one tough son of a doe. But these guys? These guys all look like towering monsters next the Lapinkin.

"Aw shoot," he mumbles to no one in particular as he starts to jog towards the rest of the team. "They're gunna put me righ' in th' front, ain't they."