[AGM Tempest]

The pathway to the Academy of Mind and Fire was a crumbled extension of the black mountainside. Obsidian bits crunched underfoot with pumice, ground from the volcanic peaks that were a fierce and wondrous backdrop to the academy.
Curious visitors, groundskeepers and students traveled in varied currents, hurrying or meandering around the small campus. All were dressed in the typical layers of Demiosian citizens, ready for any sudden whim of the weather. All save a shirtless young man with sandals on his feet and camel colored trousers sloppily cut at the knees.

The young man spoke to whoever cared to listen. He was possibly a half elf, but his features lacked the inherent dignity of the Elves. His sharp nose and wide smile belonged to a rascal not tempered by the wisdom that supposedly came with the age Elves could attain. Strangest of all, his chin length hair was a vivid purple. It would have been a royal hue on a gown or drape, but it was merely strange on him.
He stood behind a long piece of wood that rested flat on the ground. It was oval shaped at its edges and partially festooned in black swirls.

Another young man approached with a curious glint and the purple-haired fellow gestured him in with an expansive wave of his arm.

"Oya, come ride with the Coast Keepers. Patrol the coastline on your boards to keep Demios safe…" A small cluster of female students passed by, and the young man's head slowly turned to follow them. With open admiration he watched the sway of their hips and the shape of their backsides.
"…safe for such fine specimens as those three."
With a rakish smile, he nudged the fellow across from him with his elbow, "Especially the blonde, eh? The legs go all the way up and make a perfect ass of themselves."
On cue, a tongue of flame spirited from the distant coterie of women, scalding the young man's leg. He hopped on one foot and yelped until the burning sensation passed. He sulkily fanned his hand over the new hole in his cut trousers and a tendril of smoke rose from the spot.
"Mage women. Same reason my hair grows in this color," he grumbled. "Never show up an candlemark late to a date with a druid."

A slight chuckle slipped from a woman gliding by, as she headed towards the doorway of the academy. Her cocoa colored hair was bound in a low ponytail, and a pair of tortoise shell spectacles slipped down her pert nose. She entered the academy and left in the matter of a minute. Framed by the doorway, she muttered to herself.
"Only Elementalism, Mysticism and Druidism. It would behoove the academy to branch out a degree."