Fandom High School

"You have - theoretically - been taught how to pack," Morrigan began crisply once the class arrived. "But what you wear can be just as crucial. Metal armor, for instance, will protect well against creatures whose bite can spread the Taint, but is not quite as flexible leather for when speed is of the essence."

"Likewise, if you're going into any weather conditions worse than 'toasty warm', you'll want to avoid wearing what Morrigan is wearing," Alistair added. "I know style is important, but when you're heading into a long hike or a combat situation, you might want to consider something more than some strings and leaves and beads and those odd 'sequin' things..."

Someone might have managed to work out how the TV worked recently.

Morrigan gave him an odd look. "I wear no leaves," she said, slowly. "Feathers, aye, for decoration, and a few baubles, but leather and cloth are perfectly serviceable."

"Maybe if you wore more of it, it might even be so," Alistair said. "I mean, really, don't you feel a little draft... you know, when you step outside?"

"No," she replied simply. "I am perfectly comfortable as I am. Should I require a heavier coat, I shall simply become a wolf, or pull up my hood or barter for another wrap at the next village."

"So much for 'avoiding frivolous use of magic'," Alistair said, and began to become aware of their audience. "...But the point of the lesson is this: dress appropriately. Think about it before you take off, and pack wisely. Take stock of what environment you might venture into, or what enemies you will encounter, and don't forget to wear socks."

"And think about what will you do if your clothes need repair," Morrigan continued. "Can you sew? Or patch your own boots? Do you have money to trade for services if you cannot?"

"And how heavy is your armor? Can you continue to carry it across great distances?" Alistair added. "So... look at what you're dressed like now. Why did you choose those clothes?"

He was going to be very confused if your answer was 'because they weren't smelly'.

"And since we assume you've learned something - I understand that a final test is reccomended, which is ridiculous since you either learned or you have not - you'll get to be hands-on with your choices," Morrigan stated. "I have bits and bobs for clothing repair. You'll need to fix an entire outfit, or trade with your classmates with what you have on you to do it for you."

"After you pick your companions," Alistair said, looking dapper and smiling a little and generally trying not to let Morrigan's presence get to him this time, "The next thing you must consider is what you pack. You can't bring everything with you, but if you find yourself in the midst of trouble, you'll need a few things to get out of it again. As it were. Weapons and armor are an obvious must, of course, but those won't make your fire at night. Or keep your feet warm."

"And whatever you chose to take, 'tis you who must carry it," Morrigan pointed out helpfully. "Pack animals can run off, be stolen, or eaten. They also require food, which is more to carry."

"So how much you do take with you should also depend on how tall you are, or how skinny," Alistair provided. "Morrigan here can't carry all that much, for instance. Of course, she's a mage--" Look at him trying to play nice here, Morrigan, "--so she can start her own fires. But that's all the kind of thing you need to keep in mind, or you're going to run into some nasty surprises." Beat. "Like pits. Trust me, you don't want to fall into any of those without having a rope on hand."

"Magic is not a toy," Morrigan reprimanded him, giving Alistair an annoyed glance. "Why waste my energy making fire when a flint will do?"

"Which is something else to keep in mind; if you expend too much energy making fires or walking, you will be ill-equipped to handle an ambush. Rest when needed, and either secure your packs tightly enough they stay on while fighting, or easy to shrug off."

"Oh, I don't know, because it might be more economical?" Alistair shot back. "It's not like we're talking about blood magic." He crossed his arms. "Anyway, so you'll need weapons. You'll need a way to make fire, you'll need rope, you'll need food and water, and of course, a change of clothes. Adventuring gets very smelly after a while, take it from me."

"'Tis your choice," she said mildly. "If I am too drained to electrocute a Darkspawn that wants you for dinner because I had to light all your fires, 'twould be a shame."

"Well, there's another one for the list of supplies on our fake adventure," Alistair said. Seriously, Morrigan? "Plenty of lyrium vials for the witch with no stamina."

"I've heard tales of Grey Warden stamina," she said sweetly. "So far, none of them seem to be true, so be sure to pack any healing or stamina potions as well."

"I don't want to talk to you about my stamina," Alistair concluded.

"A sore-spot, p'haps?" she asked, zeroing in on him like a fox that had spotted a rather delicious - and dumb - chicken.

"Go," she said, waving the children off. "Fill your packs with things from the moddable pile. You'll have to justify your choices to us all."

Then, of course, it was back to needling Alistair while the students worked.

"'Ello there, students," Alistair said, his accent only a little overexaggerated. He felt naked without his sword around, though he did still have his shield firmly tied to his back. (He'd protested that it was 'mostly decorative, unless someone takes a swing at me', and then he'd pointed out that it didn't even have any sharp bits, and...) He looked cheerful, though, and if the armor he was wearing was heavy, he wasn't admitting to it. "Welcome to How To Avoid Misadventure Class. I'm Alistair, I'm a Grey Warden, and I've got a fair bit of experience with misadventure, if I do say so myself." Beat. "Which I do. Anyway, this lovely creepy woman over here is..."

"Tis certain, one of your instructors is more prone to misadventure and stupidity over the other," Morrigan added sweetly. "Luckily for you, 'tis not I."

"I am called Morrigan. And as you are being inflicted with the misadventures of a Warden not yet old enough to be without his masters, I am here to provide balance, not being prone to misadventure myself."

Mostly because any issues Morrigan ran into were easily dealt with using fire or fangs, but that was a small detail.

"Really," Alistair said. His eyebrow lifted. "I find that very hard to believe. What was that your mother wrote about stockings...?"

He had limited blackmail material, but by the Maker, he'd use it.

"My mother says whatever amuses her most, and 'tis not usually worth it to question her meaning," Morrigan stated. "But if we are to discuss mothers, please, enlighten us about yours. Did she put your name in your socks for you, or did you start that after joining the Wardens?"

"My mother is dead, not that it's any of your business," Alistair said. Mildly. "The Templars put their names on their socks, it's how we keep them apart in the laundry, if you've ever heard of that at all."

"You cannot wash your own clothes, and thus, must rely on someone else to do it for you," she replied smartly. "Tell me, how does it feel not to know how to use soap?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Alistair asked. "I feel like I have to constantly move to stay upwind from you."

It was clear they had completely forgotten the point of the lesson by now.

Perhaps Alistair had, but Morrigan didn't expect much else from a baby Warden. "Let this be your first lesson," she sighed. "Always be sure to choose your own party members, least ye be stuck with someone less than desirable."

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah," Alistair said, rolling his eyes. "Let's get around to the first exercises, shall we? 'I'm going on adventure, and I'm taking with me...'"