28 First Day at Adventure High, Part 1

Divah always said that any publicity was good publicity. Even if it was turned in a wholly negative direction. So, it didn't bother me too much when I noticed that novices were beginning to whisper behind my back since morning P.E.'s flashy ending. Come to think of it, they didn't mind whispering about me in front of me either.

"That's him..." a cloud-haired nymph whispered to her horned male friend who I assumed was a satyr because of his hairy goat legs.

They were both wearing the green cloaks that marked them as novices of the Rogues Gallery.

"Him?" the satyr asked.

"That crazy mage who put most of the Warrior-One class in the healing tents for burn treatments," the cloud nymph explained in a loud enough voice that she must have known would reach my ears.

"Oh, vargr, I heard about that… They say he burned Bjorn's face with high-level fire magic that no one's ever even seen before," the satyr whispered back.

Bjorn was the name of the Viking dude who'd led the fight against me. And no, I didn't burn his face off. I just gave him a tan which I think the pale teen bodybuilder needed desperately anyway.

"Nah, bruv," a third rumormonger—this blonde dwarf—walked right by me just so he could share some info about me to his friends that I was probably meant to hear. "If Doomsday hadn't called off the match, that fool"—I swear to the gods that he just glanced my way then—"would have been knocked out to next weekend."

Correction, he wasn't a dwarf. Despite this blonde rumormonger's small stature, he was far too thin. Dwarves were generally big-boned, and dwarven children had stubbles on their chins too. So, this kid might have been a gnome. Wasn't sure as I've never met one.

"Why do you think that?" the cloud nymph asked.

"Ironborn Joe wasn't in the fight," the blonde dwarf revealed, causing the other two to gasp out loud.

'Ironborn Joe…' I almost laughed out loud. What sort of goofball gave himself that nickname?

Anyway, these whispers followed me around as I walked the narrow hallway of the Great Library's third stack which was home to the lecture hall where my next class would be. My destination was Lecture Hall Five, but before I pushed open its door on the right side of the passage, I glanced over my shoulder and gave those three chatty green cloaks my patented wolf-eyed glare that I figured would help to feed the rumors of the crazy apprentice mage, which, if I was being honest, I kind of liked.

Whack!

A book about the size and weight of a brick smashed into my chest and nearly knocked the wind out of me.

"Oof," I grunted. "What the Hel—"

I ducked away from another brick-sized tome hurtling toward me.

"Vargr!" someone cursed.

Books were being flung across Lecture Hall Five by the gale-force winds wrapped around the green cloak standing in the eye of what I could only describe as a tiny tornado.

She was over six feet tall with tan skin and thick, puffy white hair framing a cherub-like face; a wide button nose, big blue eyes, and puffy lips that were the same blue color as her irises. Lines of white swirls marked her skin similar to a certain half-giant instructor who'd hazed me in P.E. earlier.

Based on that description, I was reminded of an entry in the bestiary section of Divah's journal that spoke of a rare breed of 'jotuns' who made their homes in the thick clouds above the frigid mountains of Jotunheim.

"She's a half-cloud-giant," I realized.

Facing down the half-giant and her homegrown tornado was another green cloak.

He was a lanky, fair-faced, sandy-haired elf with a kid's goatee. Ljósálfar didn't get facial hair so I assumed this elf was of a lesser breed. Maybe one of those woodland elves that were more common around the realms than the pompous bright elves who liked to lord over the other species.

"Duck!" called a bell-like voice I instantly recognized.

Instinct drove me to listen to Dess's warning, but I quickly realized that ducking would do little to evade the stack of brick-sized books about to ram into me.

She dove in at the last minute and pushed me out of the way, sending us both crashing onto the third stack's narrow corridor.

"Ugh…" I groaned. "Didn't this already happen before?"

"It does have a déjà vu quality to it, doesn't it?" Dess giggled. "Oh, I'm sorry for the crash but my body—"

"Moves on its own when someone needs rescuing," I finished for her.

Dess's eyes widened in surprise, which was when I realized I'd just mentioned something she'd told me in a previous life.

"I do it too sometimes," I lied quickly.

I took the long-fingered hand she offered me, and the fairy girl helped me back to my feet while those three green cloaks who were murmuring about me watched in rapt attention.

"You guys have nothing better to do, huh?" I asked.

The blonde gnome nodded. "Yeah, not really, bro."

"Just don't make our fall sound lame when you 'chirp' about it…" I noticed that the cloud nymph was already tapping away on her status bar's screen, which I assumed was her telling her followers what she'd just witnessed via the 'Chirper' app that Liara explained earlier was how rumors were so quick to spread around campus.

"No promises," the cloud nymph answered.

I shrugged and let it go, choosing instead to focus on my fairy savior and her sudden reappearance in my life so soon after I'd kicked her group's collective butts. Dess wore the same maroon gambeson, khaki pants, and leather boots that I belatedly noticed were the standard gear for most warrior novices. Although the caveboy part of my mind could still recall her shapely legs, well-toned arms, and rock-hard abs from P.E. class's spartan-style training.

Incidentally, with some help from Liara, Master Doomsday had finally forced me to abandon my lightweight scale mail for the blue robe top of a mage novice which looked a lot like a Japanese Karate Gi. My breathable brown slacks were traded in for itchy gray trousers, while my pair of white 'Under Armoury' sneakers were replaced by these lame-o brown boots that lacked my sneaks' enchanted speed buff. Sure, my new garments came with minor protection enchantments, but they were nothing compared to my old gear's buffs. It's why I'd insisted on wearing my blue aviator jacket over this novice gear as added protection—and because I had an image to keep.

My musings on Academy uniforms were summarily disrupted by the Krak-ka-boom of thunder which forced mine and Dess's gazes to snap toward Lecture Hall Five's open door.

"So," I covered my face with my arm to avoid the harsh winds blowing out of the room beyond the door, "are they trying to kill each other or is this what Realmsverse History's usually like?"

"Lohgan insulted Brunhilde about her height and claimed she was too clumsy to be a real green cloak and Brunhilde took offense and started hurtling wind magic at him," Dess explained in rapid-fire speed.

"Who's he to say if she'll be a good rogue or not?" Yes, I did have a thing against people pigeonholing others into a stereotype. And to use height as a reason, well, that got my blood boiling. "I think a rogue giant's a groovy idea."

"Nobody says groovy these days," Dess chirped.

My rejoinder about 'groovy' being my signature word got stuck in my throat though as something faster than my well-trained eyes could track breezed past me and Dess to get into Lecture Hall Five. A few seconds later, the gale-force winds stilled abruptly and both Brunhilde and Lohgan were lying flat on the ground while a shadowy figure pressed a foot on each of their backs.

"Tell me"—the scarlet-eyed woman's icy voice caused a chill to climb up my spine and her anger wasn't even trained on me—"which of you two delicious children thought it would be fun to mess up my class... hmm?"

A pair of fangs protruded out of the upper lip of a deathly pale face, leading me to the conclusion our Realmsverse History teacher was a freaking vampire.

Gods this school was freaking awesome. It was a thought I would have repeatedly over the rest of this day; a day full of adventure... and mayhem. Yep, lots and lots of mayhem.