The Nordic Academy of Sorcery

A creative writing experiment based on a larp, in serious need of proofreading.


Chapter one

Being a teacher at the wonderful Nordic  academy of sorcery is an interesting job indeed. Unlike most such pretender schools over seas. We have fewer classes each year, mostly competent teachers and hardy any fatal accidents. In fact our school is the best one in the world. It comes at a price though, magic can be quite wild and very temperamental. The biggest challenge in faced with every time I have to go there is finding the way. As most people can't see, the place jumps around a lot and changes characteristics all the time. From a cozy lofted guesthouse, to a looming library or a typical school building. With a setup like this every day is an adventure and it is so much better than boring old moving British stair cases. In order for me the enigmatic Niall to get there on time, I have to use a very strange compass like device. It's a curious round thing made with wood and bone, neatly decorated with constellations and a direction needle in the middle. It never fails to point me in the right direction. Isn't magic wonderful? By now it would be dreadfully rude of me not to proudly introduce myself. I am Niall a wizard which studied magic and monster hunting somewhere to the east, two steps west and then a little bit north. Aside from being a traveling sage, I'm also a very proficient monster hunter.
Anyhow the needle brought me to an old wooden building with a fence tall as a person and thrice as long. Decorated with black roof tiles and a sturdy green double door. The good old rigid kind, that opens with a shriek and closes with a mighty thud. Inside of the gateis there is an old lofted Dutch festivity house, with an impressive array of bronze chandeliers. At the start of a semester the children is funneled through the main door like a herd of sheep waddling up the creaking stairs. The level of noise the little sprogs can muster is staggering. It came as a sweet relief when the sound finally died down, as new students was getting ready for the sorting ceremony. A meticulous ritual inherited from the British isles. It includes a magically enhanced leathery hat with a whimsy voice, with a hint of gravel.  Yes, I know what you're thinking and you're probably right, but it's hard to argue with tradition. The students are divided between three distinct houses. The blue house of wisdom Shadavar, with a fancy unicorn crest. The green scorpion of house Scorpio and the mighty red house Taurus. To me it's all semantics, but I have to admit that the in-house competition is fairly interesting in its own right. I have to admit that the point system has some merits, when it comes to making the little ones clean up. They will fall over each other to clean up a banana peel, for the sake of a golden bead.
That never worked with me when i was a child.

One of the first classes of the day was held by some odd fellow, the kind that sprouts gibberish like a running faucet. He strode into class, dressed in a plaid shirt, while wearing tattered brown pants I can't really recall his name, so I'll just go with Filikus. A class be called it, a farce is what it is. Unlikely mathematics, is apparently some odd calculus derivative, best described as writing, pencil on a pencil, with a pencil. Any further attempts at understanding it led to a fantastic failure and confusion. I only use math for certain things, like counting gold pilfered from a dragon. I can tell you some great stories about that, but I'll leave that for later.
 Slamming through the hall doors came a couple of important looking fellow all dressed in black suits. The man in the middle with the round hat unfurled a parchment. "It has come to our attention, that this school harbours an fillthy illegal were creature, a filty swine whom think he can hide from us amongst the staff." He spoke out loud, with his strict voice. "Apprehended that man." A diminutive spectacle wearing man, transformed into snarling mix of human and hog. Before darting towards the door. With a swift gesture he was brought down to the floor by the Magistrate agent with a sickening crack. While the students only.


The class was just as confused as me, but one thing was certain, he was not quite there. Especially when he went on a spiel about teaching students how to fly, by leading the class onto the second floor balcony. Where he allegedly cast a spell on some poor bloke with a tuft of brow hair. Before he unceremoniously grabbed him by the belt with the intent of throwing the child of the edge. However before I could do interrupt, another teacher intervened.

It was only doing a good job I would be lying cause when he was suffering about I could never got a hard-on sun what he was going on about