Deciding to go to Hogwarts had been one of, if not the most, trickiest decisions Mardella had ever made, but despite that, the school was certainly living up to its reputation. She'd spent the weeks before struggling through the thick 'Hogwarts, A History' Dillon had managed to scrounge up from somewhere in hopes of not sticking out too much once she got here. She had quietly assumed that the book was mostly an exaggerated pamphlet for prospective students, like a flyer for a stall in Trivi Alley but more fancy, but whatever impressions she had gotten from the tattered book had been severely underestimating the place, if anything.
Overwhelming. Mardella found the place - the castle, the inhabitants, the atmosphere - overwhelming. There were so many people, a wild mix of personalities of all sorts of colours, shapes and sizes; loud and small. Despite the fact she stood more than a few heads above some of the other first years, she found herself feeling a more than a little lost in the sea of it all.
And lost in the castle too apparently. She had no clue how some of the others seemed to navigate the halls and stairs like they'd lived here their whole lives but Mardella was sure she'd been past this classroom three times already. Even though she was sure she'd gone up two flights of stairs since she'd last seen the door.
She was meant to be headed up to the Owlery. This morning in the Common Room, she'd overheard a group of students discussing replies from letters they'd written home - and it had reminded the girl that she'd yet to send word back herself. It wasn't that she was deliberately avoiding thinking of home, she turned down the corridor as her fingers closed around the crinkled paper in her pocket, just that...she hadn't had much to write home about. Ma probably wanted to hear about exciting things that happened in the castle...and Da...well, he probably wasn't going to read the letter anyway.
She shook her head, speeding her pace up. Well, she'd written it already, so there was no point in letting it fester in the bottom of her trunk. Might as well send it. Now, if only she could get off this bloody floor! The suits of armour standing poised in rows in the corridor were starting to creep her out a little. Why did wizards and witches need metal plated armour anyways? It wasn't like they didn't use dragonhide for -
"I sayeth, my lady!"
Mardella jumped, glancing about. The corridor seemed empty? What on -
"Art thou misplaced? Forsook by thy destination?" No. Way. Mechanically, she turned her head to the silver suit of armour standing by the door to classroom.
For a moment, nothing happened.
And then, with a creak and shudder of metal-on-metal, the helmet tilted forward, a metal gauntlet and arm coming up to form an elegant bow.
"The gallant Sir Jodocus the Magniferous at thy service!"
"I...see." She managed to squeak out, glancing side to side in hopes someone else was seeing this!
But the corridor seemed as empty as it had been earlier. With one hand twisting one of her braids nervously, she turned back to the strange voice emanating from the suit of armour. "Um...I guess I am a bit...'misplaced'?" Mardella was pretty sure that the word was generally used for objects and not people though.
Sir Jodocus...the Magniferous?...let out a loud booming laugh, that wouldn't have sounded at all misplaced coming from a jolly perhaps rotund man. "Thou art of fair fortune, indeed! The knight straightened, the sound of metal plates shifting echoed down the corridor. " 'Tis I whom hast stood watchful vigil over this chamber of learning for many a century!"
Mardella nodded politely. He seemed harmless? Apart from being a little loud, and it wasn't like she hadn't been trying to escape this floor for what seemed like an age now. Maybe she did need the help. "Well, I'm Mardella Bram," She smiled back uncertainly, wondering if he could see since technically, there were no eyes to see her with. "I'm meant to be headed to the West Tower for the Owlery."
The knight seemed to puff up, armour suddenly almost sparkling in the flickering light from the lit wall sconces nearby. "Lady Mardella!" She tried not to wrinkle her nose at the odd title. It was far too strange being referred to as a lady. "I shall be thy guide! Do not be afeard!"
"...right." And with that, the suit of armour stepped off its pedestal with a clank.
Feel free to chip in! I don't mind other's RP-ing as Sir Jodocus since he's an NPC as long as he keeps his archaic speech! It doesn't have to be perfect grammar Elizabethan but sort of in that style is preferred!
Last edited by Mardella Bram on 10th April 2018, 6:39 pm, edited 4 times in total.
"Umm...Della's just fine though..." // STA: 7 // AGI: 7 // STR: 6 // CTL: 3 // ArcP: 2 // ACC: 5 // School Broom