[0] Morgrave - Skyship Tower

Rythorn, a tall draconic orc with grey-green skin, curled horns, a yellow eyes, stands looking over the university and the surrounding area that he has come to call home. Doubt stirs within him and is visible without as he twirls one of his long dark braids with his right hand.

Skyships indeed. Is it too much to ask to stay on the ground where everything that doesn't grow wings belongs? He sighs, I suppose that they do have their advantages though....sometimes

Rythorn's left hand rests on the hilt of a finely crafted but inornate longsword that toes the line of being a greatsword. It's scabbard is wrapped in black and white dragon scales that form a sigil of sorts. He runs his fingers over the pommel, worn smooth by years of use as a worry token.

Finally Rythorn snaps out of his internal dialouge and turns to the other students waiting for their skyship.
"Which ship do you suppose will come for us? One we're familiar with?"

Samarath stands slightly apart from the other students at the top of the tower. He is wearing a simple fur tunic and with a rough green cloak tattered from years of use, holding a staff with an eagle motif carved on one end. His long hair catches the wind, framing his weathered face and sheltering a small weasel that perched on his shoulders, who looked curiously around.

After whispering a few comforting words to his weasel, Samarath looked around at this fellow students assigned to this work study, and realized that he had never spoken to any of them before as they were from different majors. Samarath had come a long way from being the quiet and reserved freshman originally from a faraway land and unfamiliar with the customs of Khorvaire, but he sometimes still felt a trepidation at the thought of meeting others for the first time.

But he thought to himself, well, we're going to get to know one another sooner or later, and walked to the other students, "Hello, I'm Samarath. I'm a Wayfinding major so I don't believe we've met. I take it that all of you have also been assigned to explore Xen'drik?"

Rythorn extends a hand to forearm shake with Samarath. "Well met, Samarath. My name is Rythorn or Ry for short. I'm from the Protection major, but I have had some other classes." Rythorn gestures back with his thumb." The fella in a hurry is Lash."

Rythorn repeats the gesture of the forearm shake with Cualli. "Well met Cualli."

His complexion lightens indicating slight embarrassment. "Yes, you may have seen me in A Mimic's Look in the Mirror. I played the unfortunate soul who became the mimic's victim in the beginning of act two."

A somewhat unsettling dragonborn of good physique and jet-black scales stood nearby, dressed in a hooded dark cloak and robes although the hood was currently down revealing two massive curved vertical horns. He did not seem to desire to engage in conversation. If fact, the dragonborn seemed aloof of what went on around him. But his glinting eyes were keen and nothing seemed to pass by his attention..

Samarath shook Ry’s hand, "It’s great to meet you, Rythorn, and you as well, Lash.’

Turning to Cualli, "Yes, I took the Wayfinding major to better understand the land of Khorvaire, and to be able to find my way around should my people need it. Looking back, I must say it’s been a rewarding few years of study."

Almost comically at this point, Rythorn extends his hand for a similar greeting to Verin. The height and size differential between the two is most likely very evident. "Well met Verin. That's a fine looking blade that you're wielding there. To answer your question, though, I've no experience with Stormreach. Honestly, I've not even heard that much."

Rythorn's cheeks lighten for the second time after he shakes Verin's hand. "I meant no disrespect! It's just a custom that I picked up from my mother." Changing the subject, Rythorn pats the hilt of his blade. "I've got a blade that was a gift from my parents as well. Been handed down for ages."

"As for abilities, I'm strong and able in most physical feats. I understand people better than some and have a penchant for performance. I also speak Draconic and can add in Orcish. Like you, I'm suited to swords and have a particular affinity for longswords. I've got a pretty good throwing arm when it comes to small stones and the like." Rythorn looks up thinking of his skillset. "Ah yes, I'm also an adequate cook. I'll admit though that I don't know what we'll find in Xen'drik, but I'll try and adapt."

A rather super-sounding scoff interrupted the happy conversation as the brooding black dragonborn interrupted the merry go-around. He stood with his arms clasped behind his back, almost like a lecturer.
"Draconic? Elven? You do remember we're headed to the continent of Giants, yes?"
One could not help but note the uncanny sharp teeth and, more disturbingly, the split snake-like tongue of the man.
"You will find many of the natives still speak the tongue. But where are my manners? I am S'sylin, and as you all treasure your education so much, you may be pleased to know that I am a student of the Dark Arts. A field too.... hard to stomach for many, I know..."
S'Sylin smiled in a most condescending way...

"And yet you just did, at the small cost of a light provocation, how delightful!" The black dragonborn crooned, insufferably pleased with himself.