บท 4: Chapter 3: Friendly Faces
"Hello, new students! Welcome to Malak National University! We are very glad to have you join us in the year of Hais. Your very presence here gives us great joy, and we hope to be the best school you've been to! I'm your Dean of Admissions, Mrs. Phambili!"
The elf onstage beamed out over a milling crowd of new faces. This had to be the biggest year yet! A small frown ghosted over her face as she realized the crowd wasn't listening, in favor of ogling the fourth-years. She herself was well-acquainted with the envy of seeing accomplished upperclassmen walk about like the most important beings in the world.
While the jealousy was understandable, she couldn't allow these new students to miss out on her valuable information. Grabbing the microphone from the welcome committee student, Mrs. Phambili smacked it hard. The feedback let out a screech that sounded somewhat like a harpy. Immediately, the crowd snapped to attention and quieted down.
"Dear lowerclassmen, these years are the most precious and important, as they set the tone for your four-year tenure here. Please heed the following instructions and take a pamphlet from the seat in front of you."
As soon as the last syllable left her mouth, the dryadwood double doors had swung open, as a very winded half-orc stumbled into the hall. A small twitch accompanied her smile this time as she raised a very unimpressed eyebrow, motioning for the male to sit.
"Shit-uh, sorry!" he whispered as he sprinted to his seat, a flush of embarrassment competing with his sage skin tone.
Raising an eyebrow at the swear, Mrs. Phambili waited for the latecomer to be seated before she continued.
"No worries. Do try to be punctual in the future, we'd hate for you to miss any vital details that could help you here," she smiled warmly. It was the first day, she supposed, so tardies could be excused.
"As I was saying," she continued. "Please-"
Another bang, even louder than the first entrance, swiftly sliced her next sentence.
And what were the chances another orc much bigger than the first would burst into the hall? Forcing herself to remain calm, the elf remembered that this one hadn't heard her lecture the other.
She pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. Couldn't she catch a break?
"Welcome! Please take a seat and grab a pamphlet!"
"Shoot, I am so sorry! I'm not usually late. There was an accident earlier, then my RV broke down, and the tow company took two hours to pick it up-"
"That's quite enough!" Mrs. Phambili snapped. "You may be seated."
The orc had enough sense to shut her jaws and take a seat near the back.
"If there are no further interruptions," Mrs. Phambili began tentatively. "We will begin with a tour of the school, alongside a primer on campus etiquette."
She motioned for the assembly to follow her as she exited the hall and made for the doors.
The hall rose to their feet and followed her for the tour.
If the other students were anything like the two latecomers, this year would be a challenge.
***
As the group traveled through the school's main library, Homraz marveled at the school's unique architecture. The graceful arches each caressed an ornate lantern, casting a sweet orange glow. The pillars had designs of the Moon Mothers in all their glory carved into them. As he placed a hand to the pillar, He noted the material was more than mere limestone. It was the rare ore that Malak was known for, Ganite. The metal had been discovered near Gruz-Kraza where a famous clan of orcs, the Fjorgans, had mined it for centuries. It was one of the most sought after metals in the world. Homraz hummed appreciatively and trailed his hands alongside the columns.
"This library, built by elven priests and orc druids centuries ago, served as a testament of the good faith between Malak's elves and the orc clans there. Today, this marvel of architecture celebrates a shared history and exchange of culture."
A small twinge of jealousy pinched Homraz as the Dean continued her presentation. He envied any orc blessed enough to grow up in this country. Clearing his head, he continued along with the tour, attentively scribbling notes in his leather journal. While the other students had their smartphones out, he preferred to do things the old way.
The next stage of the tour was the cafeteria.
The smell of snufftoads hit him immediately. He could also trace the scents of bushboar on thetrokrahn wheat bread. Cabal salad with sliced morga pepper added a forest-like quality to the scents of the mess hall. It was so full of amazing foods that made his mouth water. But just as lovely as the food was the architecture of the cafeteria. It was straight out of the books he'd read on the classical architecture of Malak.
The same arches from the library were present here, but each one held a wooden chandelier in place of a lamp. The windows here were wide and extended from the ceiling to the floor. The metal of the walls glowed ochre with the dim and cozy atmosphere of the hall. The beautiful stone tables each had a wonderful iggyberry bouquet and a lantern for students who studied during their meals.
"Here we will take a short break for lunch. Feel free to get to know your fellow students and get comfortable. After this break, we will tour the gardens, the main campus departments, and finally drop you off at your dorms. Thank you."
After the Dean's dismissal, the freshmen all crowded the lines eager to sink their various forms of teeth into the delicious food awaiting them. Filing into the line, Homraz set his heart on the dish of the day: Brunhildr's broth with iggyberry snufftoads for dessert. As the line trickled forward, a stray elbow swiftly knocked his notebook from his hands and onto the cobblestone floor.
Just great.
Homraz debated the merits of stepping out of line to pick up his notes. He didn't know if it'd still be in the same spot when he finally got his food. But he couldn't leave now or he'd lose his spot. He still couldn't decide what to do when a large hand reached out with his fallen notes.
"Here you are," the voice behind the hand uttered in a thick Umokan accent.
The owner of both happened to be an elf, in a pantsuit, about his height. Curiously, her ears were curved upwards and out, which was unusual for females whose ears curved down.
"You really should be more careful," she said blankly.
Homraz snatched his journal back with a small growl.
"Mind your business," he snarled.
"I am Kulah, your senior guide for the year," she announced, sticking her hand out
"Didn't ask for your life story for Sirim's sake."
"You are quite the cantankerous individual."
"You don't stop talking."
"I do in many circumstances. This happens to not be one of them."
Go away, Homraz thought grouchily.
The line finally moved ahead and Homraz had managed to snag the last bag of snufftoads.
"The first order of business is to get to know each other. Meaning, I shall be dining with you this evening."
"Do what you want."
Ignoring the obvious annoyance in Homraz's, Kulah followed after him with her tray, primly sitting across from the grouchy half-orc.
They'd sat near the trees by another embellished door. This one had an engraving of an old elven queen on it. Transfixed by its unique work, Homraz didn't notice Kulah explaining the history of that queen.
"-political reforms, in particular, were her strongest... are you listening?"
The half-orc snapped back to reality with a start.
"You are spacey," Kulah chided.
"Maybe you're just boring," Homraz snapped. "Nothing's interesting about Mamkamafan politics after you went through a friggin' four-year course on it."
Kulah looked surprised at first, then elated. Homraz scowled the smug grin he saw sliding onto her face. At least, he imagined it was a grin. The elf hardly smiled or made any mouth movement aside from speaking.
"I have a feeling we'll be getting along fine, this year."
***
Dhurgan was way in over her head.
After her unusual entrance to the orientation, she'd cringed five feet back into her own body. She hadn't meant to show up late, and the lecture she'd gotten from that elf hurt considering how long her Nar'ube chewed her out for leaving the battery running in the RV.
She'd make a mental note to go shopping for a new one later.
Even after being called out embarrassingly by the orientation committee, she'd been doing fine until she'd gotten stares from some other orcs and onis. A random elf even started making signs at her. She'd gently mimed the motion of another person furiously motioning to their neck, and her hand promptly found her scent gland. Eyes widening in horror, she realized her mistake.
So, she had to stop by the campus' general store and purchase at least three boxes of extra-large patches. The cashier, a human, gave her a sympathetic look as she slammed the boxes down on the counter and dug twenty yauvudi out of her pocket.
She'd gotten lost at least four times on the way to the next stop for the tour and just missed it when she finally got to the library. She was this close to giving up all hope of catching the tour and contemplated just asking where the dorms were.
Luckily, she'd bumped into Adit. Who were they? A fucking lifesaver, that's who. The human from the campus store, who was also her senior mentor by coincidence, had been gracious enough to show her around and help her register for her classes.
"The tours always forget that part," Adit had said. "It's stupid and they end before they can show the freshies where to sign up."
"Thanks so much for this," Dhurgan thanked Adit for the umpteenth time that day.
"No problem. I was gonna end my shift anyway."
A loud growl interrupted the congenial exchange.
"On that note, let's head to the mess hall," they chuckled.
The sweet smell of the food almost did Dhurgan in. She and Adit quickly loaded up as Dhurgan got to know more about them. Their family had moved to Runa'an for their dad's job offer, and they never looked back. They were studying magecraft at the university.
"And what about you?" asked Adit wiping their hands on the cloth hankies the school provided
"Well my Nar'ube is a Surag, and my Nar' abe is a Reygol," Dhurgan started. "They mated after my Nar'ube impressed her during a fighting tournament."
"Wow! Their story sounds so dreamy," cooed Adit.
"Yeah, they act like everyday's their mating ceremony," winced Dhurgan, a pained expression on her face.
"And what's wrong with that?" asked Adit, puzzled by their mentee's shift in demeanor. They paused before gathering the trays to place by the trash cans.
"Have you seen a Fjorgan mating ceremony?"
Adit blanched before the two broke out into a hearty laugh.
"Oh, gods!" snickered the human. "That sounds painful!"
"You're telling me, pal!" chortled Dhurgan. "Traumatized, for life."
Mid-cackle, something slammed into her hard. As a mountain of muscle, she barely moved and looked down to see just who it was that bumped into her
Her eyes widened in cursed surprise.
"You again?"
"You again!"
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