Trouble at the Lycaeum (For Dec.17th Event)

[Alira Drakrul]

(This thread does NOT occur until starting Saturday, December 17th. This story serves as the background to an event occurring on Saturday, December 17th at 8pm est)

The Lycaeum was alive with activity on Saturday morning. Mages, scribes, naturalists and other scholars hustled in and out of the buildings. Crates and containers are gathered in neat piles near tables as scribes recorded their contents. Over behind one of the statues, pair of teenage apprentices was snickering with hands covering their mouths. The brown-haired one pointed his index finger at a courier walking across the courtyard as his raven-haired friend looks on. The courier’s pants suddenly fall to his ankles, almost causing him to trip and cascade his package onto the ground. The two boys smashed their hands over their mouths to control the howls of laughter that erupt. The both sucked in air loudly through their noses before another round of round of muffled howls.

A sharp voice silenced their amusement abruptly, “Hey! You two!” The boys went pale and turned around. There stood one of the Lycaeum’s oldest and most boring scholars, Luther. “Olaf. Kale. Weren’t you both given something to do?”
“Uhhh… not really? “ the one who shrank visibly at the mention of the name Olaf.

“Yeah, we learn best by like… observing and stuff…,” Kale said.

“You are going to end up learning the rest of this year in the shape of a walrus!” he shouts at them. He coughs a couple of times and clears his throat before continuing in a much more calm tone, “ Just because your fathers are benefactors of this institution, doesn’t allow you to treat this place as your personal playground. Both of your fathers gave us a substantial donation to get us to accept you into this apprenticeship. That doesn’t mean you get a free ride. “

The two boys looked at each other, attempting to hold a straight face. Kale murmured under his breath, “Heh Heh Heh… he said ride…”

“What did you say, boy?” the man asked with narrowed eyes.

Olaf snorted and cleared his throat loudly, “Uh, Pride. Sir… we are going to show more *pride* in this… uh… institute of fine learning. “

The old scribe stared at him for a few more moments and then grunted as if in acceptance of their answer. “Very well. Now go into the catacombs and begin crating up whatever is down there. The Governor has put Lady Mal in charge of the Lycaeum. She has ordered an inventory of all equipment, resources as well as historical documents and artifacts. “

The boys stared at him as if in disbelief at being made to work.

The old man stared right back before grinning, “You boys will be fine. All the other apprentices are helping. This isn’t hologeneration science. Just pack the items carefully in the crates with sand and straw. If it’s something not labeled, make sure it goes in its own crate. Even I don’t remember what is all stored down there and we don’t want to take the chance of there being an accident. “

The boys continued to stare at him blankly.

“Sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to making the Lycaeum the pride of our city, ” he said as he walked back towards the classrooms.

The boys watch him walk off and look each other. “I can’t believe my dad sent me here. It is so lame. ” Olaf whined.

“Right?” Kale sneered as his voice drops an octave, “… you’ll learn something. It’ll be good for you, put hair on your chest…” He laughs abruptly, “*****s and liquor, would put hair on my chest too.”

Olaf laughed at his friend, “Well let’s go down and get that task done as fast as we can. As soon as we are done, we can skip out on class and hit the bath houses at Buccaneer’s Den. “

Kale grinned, “Sounds like a plan to me. Pirate women are hot.”

 

[Alira Drakrul]

Kale and Olaf made their way across the courtyard. They dodged to the sides as they avoided other apprentices blindly carrying heavy crates. Downstairs was a mess. There were stacks of empty crates and boxes. Piles of spellbooks and literature towered like a mountain sprinkled with old scrolls. On the side were kegs of various potions, weird trinkets and vials of unknown contents. A pile of sand lay against a wall with a shovel stuck in and several bales of hay. The boys look at the mess and their shoulders slumped.

The two teenagers sighed in unison.

“This is going to take for… ever…” Olaf said.

Kale agreed, “This is going to take so long the *****s are going to be dead of old age.”

They sighed again.

Olaf perked up, “We just have to shove it all in the crates, right?”

“That’s what the old scribe said, “ Kale answered. “We are supposed to put them in carefully with straw and sand.

“Careful isn’t going to get us to Buccaneer’s Den,” Olaf suggested.

“Neither will getting in trouble!” Kale countered.

Olaf grinned at him. “No, don’t you see? Look… “ he said as he pointed at the sand and straw, “if we leave that filler we can fit in so much more stuff. They’ll be fewer crates to fill *and* carry.”

Kale grinned slowly as he followed his friend’s misguided logic, “Well let’s get started!”

The two teenagers began cramming the room’s contents into crates. At first, they did legitimately attempt to pay attention to keeping the books and scrolls separate from the potions and other items. That weak attempt to follow the old seer’s advice quickly faded as their progress slowed. Olaf was the first to take the next step as he put a handful of scrolls in with some books. Kale watched him and then looked to Olaf who shrugged. Kale looked back to his own box and sprinkled a few talismans among the arranged bottles and flasks. Eventually they stopped even checking to see if the items had a warning or identification. The time between boxes grew shorter in proportion to the variety in each crate. Soon books, scrolls, glassware, trinkets, herbs, powders and some unidentified objects were sharing close quarters with each other.

Finally they were on the last large crate when they were interrupted as a mage apprentice came down the stairs. “Are these almost ready to go?” she said as she looked over at the large wall of crates of various sizes.

“Yes, we are on the last one now,” Kale said as he grinned at her. Olaf agreed with a nod eagerly.

“Great! I’ll go get the others and we’ll start carrying them to those doing the inventory." she said with a smile.

Olaf and Kale gave coordinated thumbs up to her.

 

[Alira Drakrul]

The two morons packed their last responsibility. Olaf put in two large stacks of what appeared to be children books. He gently pressed the contents to get them all flush with the lip of the crate.

Kale reached out and grabbed several of the books and looked at them closer, “Hey! My governess used to read these to me this time of year while my parents were out screwing other people. This one is about some girl who was so poor she had to sell matches on the street. That story was depressing as hell. An’ this one about Santa Claus and that workshop full of elves. Oh oh! I remember this one! The Gingerbread Man! Oooo… the story of Krampus! He was an evil *******!”

Olaf looks over at his friend get all excited over a bunch of winter holiday stories. “Kale…”

Kale looked up.

“Stop being weird. They are *just* stories, Kale. That’s it. Only preschool children believe in them… especially that Krampus one. They are just stupid stories the grown-ups tell their kids so they stop misbehaving. “

Kale frowned, “I’m sure there is some element of truth to these. Most stories have some part of them in truth.”

Olaf smirked and grabbed the books out of his friend’s hands and put them back in the crate. “The *only* truth we need to concern ourselves with how much entertainment we can get five hundred gold pieces. “

Kale shrugged, “Whatever. Let’s just finish this.”

The Olaf grabbed the hammer and nails as Kale held the lid in place. They sealed the last crate and carried it and stacked it with the others.

They removed their hands just as a group of robed teenagers came down the stairs. They were laughing loudly as they turned their heads to look at the two boys. “Hey! If it isn’t Oaf and his sidekick cabbage! “ said the tallest boy. The rest of the gang roared in laughter.

Olaf grumbled. “Ignore them…” said Kale quietly as he touched his friend’s arm. “Let’s just get upstairs and tell that old man we’re done.”

“You two going to kiss next?” a short stocky boy piped up. The question elicited another round of laughter.

Olaf clenched both his fists as Kale pulled him by the sleeve. He dragged him passed the gang of teenagers. One of the girls called out as they climbed the stairs, “Make sure to run to mummy and daddums… tell them how much of a screw up you are.”
“Hey Cabbage! Does your dad have to pay more every time you **** up? He really must be rich!” The laughter rose and faded as the two boys left the catacombs behind and stepped into the sunshine.

“Don’t listen to them, Olaf…” Kale said, “They just are a bunch of stupid kids like us.” Olaf jerked his sleeve out of his friend’s hand roughly and continued walking to the far classroom.

Behind them, the gang of teenagers appeared on the teleporter. The boys carried multiple crates while the girls holding true to sexist stereotypes only managed one. The tallest boy spotted them crossing the courtyard and used it opportunity to lob one more insult while there were no teachers nearby. “Hey Oaf! Your mom is like the Britannia library... always open to the public.”

Something snapped inside Olaf and he turned around and shouted, “Don’t say anything about my mom!” He murmured and gestured at the tall boy. A small unimpressive fireball accelerated towards the boy and landed on the boy’s shoes. The shoes immediately caught fire immediately with a puff of black smoke snaking into the air.

The tall boy exclaimed sharply in alarm and started to hop and dance in place. “Put them out!! Put them out!!!” The other boys and girls began to panic and turn around in tight circles to look for help. Precariously balanced crates swayed to and fro in the growing alarm and confusion. The original perpetrator knocked into another boy and caused him to fall to the ground. His overloaded crates broke apart easily, shattered glassware soaking books and scrolls. “Ow! Ow!” Fire foot yelled as he tossed his crates on the ground near the other smashed containers. Wood splintered flinging the contents rudely upon its sister pile. The boy quickly dropped to the ground and swatted at the flames, smothering them with his flesh.

By this time, the buildings surrounding the sandstone courtyard have been emptied of their people. Mages, seers, scientists and students began to form a circle around the chaotic scene. Olaf grinned darkly as he watched. That smug grin morphed to mirror Kale’s concerned frown as tendrils of colored smoke began to emanate from the large pile. Shouts from the elder mages began to lift above the murmuring sounds of the growing crowd. “Get back!! Everyone Back Away!!”

Colored smoke was now pouring out of mangled pile, forming a rainbow-colored fog that blanketed the ground. The members of the teenage posse who were still standing quickly retreated away from the pile. The two boys on the ground began coughing violently, and trying to rise to their feet. Their frantically waving arms didn’t disperse the choking haze, but only churned the cauldron of colors. The disappeared under the kicked up smoke and sank into silence. Crackling could be heard above the screams as chain lightning skipped paths in the mysterious fog. The fog continued to creep along the ground towards the watching crowd. The crowd began to back up away from the encroaching mist as it spread along the ground. The mist paused in its advance, swirling in almost a perfect circle that now blanketed a large percentage of back of the courtyard. The crackling streaks of lightning seemed to agitate the mist causing it to rise in columns from the carpeted rainbow. Some of the columns were small and some far dwarfed a man’s size. Gasps and screams from the mob pierced the air as the pillars of colors began to forming into crude shapes. Colors traded spots with others; colors sinking and others rising. The thick fog blocked line of sight as the shapes grew more distinct. Over thirty fog shapes stood silently in the courtyard like sentinels.

Olaf and Kale both craned their wide eyes to look up at one of the tallest shapes. Suddenly the misty shape distorted and blurred. As if it was shaking off sand, the fog sloughed off the figure revealing a solid daemon-like form beneath. It lifted its cloven hoof and took a step as its baleful yellow eyes turned upon the two morons. Spiral horns arched back as it bellowed at Olaf and Kale.

Kale opened his mouth and stammered as he begun to shake, “K…K..Krampus.”

Krampus bellowed again, roaring as it turned in a circle to survey its surroundings. As if called to life by the malevolent holiday deity, the other shapes began to shakes and move. Pairs of serpentine eyes on black sooty necks swing around to look at the crowd. A tiny hand holding a single match as a child’s laughter dances to horrified ears. Feathered wings bursting from their foggy prisons and fan the mist from mutated bipedal reindeer.

Everyone ran for their lives from the Lycaeum, some blinking out of existence as they recalled and teleported for safety.

Not everyone made it.

 

[Alira Drakrul]

The new Governor of Moonglow, Alira Drakrul, sat in her new office when she heard the distant roars and the sound of people screaming. She turned in her chair and looked out the windows to either side as she tried to pinpoint the source. “Are ye kiddin’ me? I’ve only been Governor a few days an’ the goddamn cows are tryin’ t’kill themselves?” she growled mentally.

Alira sighed and was about to stand when a scribe burst in the office door. Alira hand instantly began gather mana in defense, but quickly released it back into the ground at the scribe’s words, “Governor Drakrul, there has been a serious accident at the Lycaeum.” The scribe was covered in black dust with scorch marks on his robe with some minor injuries.

Another roar in the distance broke the pause between them.

“What happened?” she asked.

“We… aren’t sure…, “ he said hesitantly

Alira arched an eyebrow, an annoyed expression settling on her face, “An’ is there anythin’ t’at ye *are* sure of?”

“Some people are dead… many are injured… an’ there are creatures loose… in the Lycaeum.” The man said nervously.

Alira stared at the man before speaking again, “How many dead?”

Reluctantly he said, “Uhh… again not sure… we can’t really get close to courtyard to count.”

Alira sighed and then chanced another inquiry, “How many injured an’ are they now safe and bein’ tended t’?”

“Dozens of injured, most are students and apprentices, ma’am. The healers are tending to the injured as best they can, but are substantially overwhelmed. We are not equipped to handle a mass casualty event, ma’am.” The scribe frowned. He wiped his face with a sooty sleeve and leaving a smear of black across his face.
Alira rubbed across her brow with her forefingers as if dreading the next answer, “W’at type creatures are in the Lycaeum?”

The scribe stammered, “It would appear to be… storybook characters…ma’am.”
Alira looked up at him, her face going completely blank as she stared at him, “… Storybook… characters...”

“Umm… yes… as if characters from books were suddenly made living. I saw a few mutated reindeer… Santa Claus… a gingerbread man… and others. Except they aren’t nice at all… And…” The man pauses as if unsure to continue.

“An’….?” Alira asked slowly.

“And…. some of the creatures are ransacking the buildings and homes. They’ve been stealing items like books, decorations and liquor.” the nervous scribe blurted out quickly.

“So… our Lycaeum… is overrun… wit’ characters from children’s stories… t’at ‘ave gone evil… *an’* who are carrying a bunch of items stolen from our city?” Alira said as if to verify the information.

The scribe hesitated, “Uh, yes… ma’am. “

Alira closed her eyes and took a deep breath and exhaled as if to calm down. She opened her eyes with the exhale from the second set, “Ye are goin’ t’do exactly as I say an’ nae interrupt me. “ She lifted a hand to tick off on her fingers as she spoke the list, “First, inform my guards, they are *nae* t’engage the creatures. All guards are t’remain at the city proper. They are our last line o’ defense if those things leave the Lycaeum. Second, find Lady Mal… let her know ‘bout the situation an’ tell ‘er t’at I could use some ‘elp with the healers. Our first concern should be ‘bout preventin’ any further loss o’ life. Third, An’ find Mr. Berridge an’ bring ‘im t’me… with Lady Mal an’ myself tendin’ the injured, I need ‘im t’oversee this situation and take quill to paper on the press release about the situation. Is this understood?”

“Yes, ma’am”

“Then I suggest yer pace be at a run,” she said watching him as she started to stand up. The scribe quickly nodded and tore out of the Governor’s office at top speed. Alira followed him out the door at a walk and turned north to the healers. “This dress is probably goin’ t’be ruined by all the mess…” she mentally noted with a soft sigh as more roars came over the trees from the Lycaeum and fell upon the city.