[Location] Vortex City Library

[Szet]

Timestamp:
First Brightenening of Kalendryas,
Autumn of Era II,
Era XI Post Fractum in the Age of the Darkening,
the Mageocracy of Julos the Mad.

A dark cloaked figure slipped into the great library of Vortex. The name of this figure was Szet, and he was here to procure a few select texts from the library’s forgotten vaults. Unnoticed he made his way through the maze of dusty bookshelves, trying to keep to the shadows. Ahead of him he saw the stairs to the lower levels, and with an eerie grace he descended the steps not stopping until he reached the third level.

This level was darker than the others, and the air itself was even colder but he knew this was not the level he wanted. Szet wandered once again through the maze of bookshelves, his alert gray eyes searching for the entrance to the lower vaults. His eyes were suddenly attracted to the shadows in between two incredibly ancient and rotting bookshelves... there he caught sight of a narrow doorway leading into darkness. He hastily snatched a burning candle from alcove in the cold stone walls and eagerly descended into the darkness.

With the meager light the candle provided he could see the narrow passage way in front of him begin to wind down into the ancient vaults. The deeper he walked the colder and stiller the air around him became. The coldness itself seemed to seep through his clothes and chill him to the bone... he liked the feeling.

Suddenly the passageway began to level out and straighten; he turned the last corner and saw the vast vault that lay ahead of him. It was a large room, with old and rotting bookshelves often with lavish carvings of horrendous beasts lining the walls. The floor itself was coated with a thick layer of dust, and the usually light-footed elf left clear imprints behind. The bookshelves themselves were lined with dusty and decaying old tomes of dark knowledge... the knowledge he craved. However to consult all these books in-depth would be an impossible task so he instead he began the task of just briefly searching through them all.

As a child he had always been different, he had often scared the other children with his dark and necromantic interests... instead of playing in the sunshine he was in his dark room reading books. As time went on the books he became interested in were more specialized and harder to acquire, and he had often spent days wandering the city in search of book sellers and dealers. After a few years he had begun to hear rumors of a vast vault of dangerous texts hidden in the library. Eventually he had decided to follow up these rumors, this was the very reason he was here in these vaults, and he would not leave until he found what he desired!

As the hours of daylight dwindled and darkness claimed the night, Szet was still within the basement going through each shelf, briefly scanning each of the book's contents. So far most of it was just old collections of necromantic myths written by unreliable sources. Until two books caught his eye, "Necromancy" - By Unknown and "The book of Jorel" - By Unknown. They were sitting side by side in a dark shadowed shelf in one of the vault's corners; upon analyzing them he decided they were undoubtedly original pieces of authentic work. "Excellent..." He exclaimed to himself quietly as he began to read them with great speed.

"Necromancy" seemed to be a reliable tome on the practice of dark magic. It was very in-depth and was most likely written by a master of the secretive craft, it included descriptions of various incations and spells but alas, it did not tell him how to perform them. "Perhaps I will have to find someone to teach me then..." Szet said to himself as he set the necromancy book down and picked up "The book of Jorel" This book was more appealing to him for some unknown reason... it was about the anti-god Jorel. It wasn't very detailed and it was mostly about the history of the god as his rumoured deeds. However it also contained a brief description of a secretive sect called the Udran' Beydir. They didn't mention much, only that in return for great powers they pledged their soul to Jorel. He found this prospect very appealing, and tried desperately to memorize the whole book. After he was done memorizing what he could, he set down the book and placed it back in the shelf. He then began the tedious task of searching through the rest of the books, attempting to find more information of the Udran' Beydir.

At around dawn, he gave up his task. The rest of the books had offered him no new information, determined to discover more of the Udran' Beydir he placed the books he had search through back into the shelves and once again made his way upwards.

No one even seemed to notice when a dark cloaked figure, covered in dust silently left the library early in the morning. No one saw, no one cared.

[Drogean]

Timestamp:
Third Brightenening of the Second Cycle, Kalendryas,
Autumn of Era II
Era XI Post Fractum
The Reign of Emperor Valerian Constantius & Empress Audrey De'Lylles in Centripax

The library of Vortex looked nothing like the grand libraries of Arakmat or Primus Gaudeo. With marble walls and mohagany shelves, those opulent buildings truly reflected the wealth of knowledge they housed. While in Vortex...

The library of Vortex looked like the place where old books came to die.

Through the racks and shelves he searched, finding the system that this library had set up easy to folllow, if not too simple. The subject he was looking for fell under "Beasts." And so he walked down the isle, touching books on the spine as he read their titles. In "The Allerian Beastiary" he found a short article on what he needed.

He rummaged through the library until he found a pen, ink, and papyrus. He jotted down the entry on Trolls, word for word, and let the ink on his papyrus dry. He decided, while he had writing materials, to write up a notice.

He had thought long on his planned expedition to hunt Trolls - it had not been a spur of the moment idea like so many of his often were. It began eras ago, with tales from other Naturan Rangers who told stories of how they made their fortunes in the swamps of Vortex. The Trolls were cunning, vicious, and above all, destructive. Hunting them was no crime, in law or in his mind. He felt this reasoning satisfied his Druidic thinking. He was only righting the balance. The world too would be a safer place, and if the Trolls had to die, well, the ends justified the means. And hunting them was the only means he knew would work.

Above all though, he wanted to match wits in a more primal manner, something different than the civilized debates of the Concordia Incola. He might lose his life or limbs in the contest but.. so be it. Always in a gamble, no matter the odds, Drogean always thought they would end in his favour.

Of course, he planned to have the best odds of sucess.

The darker, lower levels seemed to bring about an idea that had also sat long with him, but he knew here was not the place. At least, not yet.

[Drogean]

His plan had, from the very beginning, relied upon skill and knowledge. The Trolls possessed brute force, or so he had heard, and while even more brute force was the easiest way to overcome that, he had thought of better ways.

Arcana would be key - his own skills were lacking, and Druidism was his chosen sphere. His spells were not the kind needed in a Troll hunt. He mulled over each of the combative spheres, and decided the abilities of a Mystic would best help him. Confusing and confounding the Troll would allow the rest of the group to dispatch of it most easily.

A sorcerer was the next best in his opinion, if only because Elementalists were not an option - the spells they cast would destroy the hide. While he wasn't here to collect the bounty on the hides, his companions would be. It would be best to keep their prizes intact.

Another, more proficient Druid could serve his expedition well, but he doubted the chances of finding one here in this dark city. It was a shame really, but then why would a Druid be in a city rumored to be filled with Necromancers?

He smiled grimly. Why, indeed?

He wrote down a final copy of the notice he planned to bring to the Consortium, just in case they needed something in writing. This was what he was used to - a habit. He worked in the Centripax Provincial Government. There everything had to be in writing.

The papyrus with his notice he scrolled and stowed in the pocket of his green wolf fur-trimmed coat. The fur had been taken from a wolf found dead, or so he had been told. That explanation had satisfied his conscience... and explained the feral appearance of the fur. He stroked the fur trim and thought. What else do I need? How can I assure success? What if Arcana doesn't work? What if the Trolls attack before our mage is in Clara? I need more mundane means. Weapon use should be kept minimal, the hides are important. His train of thought stalled for a time. He could think of nothing until, Poison! We can coat our weapons in it. I remember there were some poisonous herbs in the Herb Guide, I'll go look them up again.

Through the dusty rows of books, arranged like bones in an ossuary, Drogean searched for the section on herbs. He remembered the appearance of "The Herb Guide", and looked for it among the tomes on the shelf labeled "Flora". He found the Herb Guide, but as he pulled it out he noticed a far thicker book stuck between the other books and the back of the shelf. It was simply labeled "Herb List." He leafed through it, and found it was nearly identical in layout to the Herb Guide, so he brought it down too. He skimmed through both books, making note of the names of various herbs that could be helpful - either healing or poisonous. He wouldn't be able to remember them all without notes.

There was one entry, however, that that stuck in his mind like an icepick.

Oiolosse.

[Brahkula Hun'viir]

Brahkula had ventured into the library for the soul purpose of gathering knowledge, rumors spoke of dark and terrible tomes that littered the basement an alleged area where hauntings still took place. The fact that the spirits had not crossed over to the umblat was proof enough to her, that such power existed if only just round the bend. She could remember it as if it was only yesterday, a golden age in which the occult flourished under the rule and praise of Jorel. Today the flocks of faithful those once prominent cultist's silenced to only a mere whisper, a meager shadow of its former self and the cities dark beauty. But this library was a testiment to the glorious truth of Vortex's true past and enigma, a necromantic city that delved deep beyond the border of life and death without the fear of the jalatine inquisition sending them to the depths of hell. They the order of new, so morally opposed to understanding the secret of life.

It was time to put the past aside for now, and time to explore.

Brahkula ventured into the library, but payed no attention to the dwarf who was busy with his own affairs and work inclined obligations. Instead her descent into the shadows, came swift and in no time she had found herself strumming her fingers across various books and pamphlets on the paranormal. She was searching for something though, beyond these books of theories and assumptions. She was looking for a true literary masterpiece, one that was filled with the black magic of the ancient days.

And then her finger stopped against a book encased in what appeared to be crudely sewn leather with what appeared to be remnents of a fur trimming between some of the stiching, in the center of the book a silver emblem for the aeternian pantheons was present. For a moment she paused and came to the grisly conclusion that the books sleeve was forged from the flesh of some sun kissed fool, thats when she realized that vortex had once been like harloth cold and merciless to outsiders.

The book itself was very large, and its weight was rather unwieldly which made it feel as though it should have been placed on a pedestal or alter. This could have been the very book that was once used at jorels temple within the collegium, before it had crumbled to the dirt. It was a disturbing artifact, most likely filled to the brim with warped and depraved rituals to draw forth an aspiring covens wishes and darkest desires through sacrafice and obscure rituals to appease the dark deities.

With book clentched in hands, she made her ascent back to the top floor where she left abruptly made an exit without bothering to go through its contents. The dwarf was busy helping someone choose a book, while she stealthly slipped out.

[Kuro Kodiru]

7th of Optia, In the Season of Summer,
Era XII Post Fractum, Era III of the Celestine Mandate

Kuro had come to the library with a different intention than most visitors. Unlike others, he'd come with the intention of writing a book. As he entered the building, his inkpot lay hidden in one of his beltpouches. The dwarf librarian probably wouldn't take kindly to the risk of the kemite spilling it on some valuable text or another.

Kuro briefly stopped at the front desk to ask the dwarf where he might find information on the unarmed combat forms of Zinn'ka. The dwarf grumbled, and pointed him in the direction of the arms and warfare section. The kemite thanked him and was on his way.

It took some searching, but after sorting through all manner of texts on the fascinating subject of Yearly Annals of the Zerdagian Conflicts, he came to Zinn'ka. From there, he picked out six texts:

Zinn'Ka
Ataa
K'tesh
Rhingorda
Shasska
Tessared-Tohiba
Zan-Zu

Then he found himself a table to sit down at, so he could go about his work. Every moment of spare time of the next few cycles would be dedicated to copying the information within the texts into his blank book. It was a gift meant for Sevette, and he certainly hoped she appreciated the work that went into it, if nothing else. At the very least, he'd learn something about the unarmed martial arts, so he could make an educated decision when it came to learning one of the styles for himself.

[Erhıne]

First Cycle of Autumn in Era XII PF

She had passed it more than once now when going to and from schola - Erhıne didn't want Xylle to walk the unfamiliar streets alone. She vaguely knew that he had wandered with great freedom through Archadoon, particularly in those last brightenings when his mother had fallen.. ill; but whether by some silent, mutual agreement or though a stroke of lucky fate the Nimâlni and the dracon talked little about his childhood. Xylle didn't mention it on the first brightening when Erhıne had set out with him towards the schola; he chatted quite contentedly about his fellow classmates and his teacher on the second brightening, and from then on there was nothing left to talk about. Erhıne came with him to schola and was waiting faithfully outside the doors when class was let out and Xylle came bounding out, wings flapping behind him, in a most undignified manner.

She had passed it without words heretofore, but that did not mean that the careful gaze of the grey elf had not noticed it: long, large, and made of heavy stone (really, the one thing Erhıne thought she truly hated about the city was the abominable architecture - it was a marvel how such ugly things could be created from the best of building materials) the City Library was impossible not to notice.

It was only many cycles after the initial trip to the schola, however, that the Nimâlni first set foot in the establishment. Though she had known what she wished from its shelves even before, the elf had delayed; or rather, not delayed, but taken her time.. change could not be effected in a single night, or over a single cup of tea. Change took lifetimes - sometimes many lifetimes. A great change had resently been working upon Erhıne's heart, and sometimes it exhausted her simply to stay alive.

In the end it was a matter of escape more than one of knowledge - anything, anything but to go through the same cycle of pros and cons one more time! Her decisions that night in the Golden Dragon had not been final, after all; even the most potent realizations took time to solidify and to create habit. Thus, for all that the grey elf had at that time resolved to study obedience to the Empire which clothed and fed her, the necessity to start working towards that goal receded the very next morning. There was a house to find; a job to fulfil; a child to look after - and many, many details to polish and doubts to allay.

All this had taken many cycles - and still the process was not complete. But it had gone far enough that Erhıne thought some added fodder for thought might not be amiss. Having grown up surrounded by a Nimâlni family, and an isolationist Nimâlni family at that, the meticulous mind of the elf knew that one of the first steps on her new path would have to be learning the roots nad the heritage of the Empire. It was from these that an accurate assessment of the present situation and some hints to the future could be gleaned: furthermore, Erhıne did not like pledging her allegiance blindly.

"Serale," she accosted the first officious-looking dwarf that she could find carrying a stack of books in his thick arms. "I would like to find some books on Allerian History?"

The dwarf's eyebrows rose and he began nodding even before the elf's voice had trailed off into a question. "Why yes certainly miss, take a seat at one of the tables and I'll have them right down for you." The librarian turned away but Erhıne was slower in following his suggestion: still standing, she gazed about at the long cases filled with books and the staircase that led down into an unknown gloom. The elf had not heard anything about the library's peculiar bowels; she had yet to associate very much with the common Vortexian, and as close communion with such ignoble fellows was not part of either Erhıne's upbringing or her developing subservient mindset, the trend would probably continue. There was something rather calming in the air, the elf figured, and the quiet solitude was to her liking.

Just as she finally sat down the dwarf whom she had accosted came back with a number of books in his hands. "Here you are miss: the Epic of the Allerian Empire and the Historia of Odin Khrias. If you wish to read chronologically then you should start with the latter, but the former is less dry reading." Erhıne took the books from the dwarf and smiled her thanks. What the dwarf considered dry did not deter her; she would rather begin at the beginning, despite the Historia indeed appearing to be rather longer than the Epic. Opening to the first page, she began to read.

[Amber Brightwing]

OOC: This is in the previous winter, but it falls in between my apprentice necro training.

Brightening 4 of the Fourth Cycle of The Month of Ponutis in the Season of Winter
Era XII Post Fractum in the Age of the Darkening, Era III of the Celestine Mandate

The large doors were probably already out of her league to open and with a slightly damaged wing she didn’t even bother to try and open them herself. At first she tried waiting a bit until someone went in the library so she could follow him, but it soon became clear that the place was not one of the most frequented so there was need for a slight change of plans. A little later she already found herself inside, after a helpful citizen had held open the door for her (there were indeed such citizens to be found, although she had needed a few tries to located one).

It didn’t take her long to locate the books she needed, but unfortunately they were way to heavy for her to lift. A few curses later, first from herself and then from the dwarven librarian who wasn’t to set on carrying around those books either, three tomes lie before her one of the few tables the building had. There was A Primer to Arcana, 2nd Edition, which she had been told to read and then she had asked for A Primer to Arcanomechanics and Arcana Supplemental on Arcanomechanics as well.

She had come early and planned to stay for a while. She had even brought some raisons and some water to keep her going. If she had to rest her wing, she could just as well spend the time useful. Several candlemarks had passed by the time she left (this time making use of another person leaving to get passed the doors). The books were left behind on the table, with a banknote of five crowns put in between them for the dwarf’s trouble.

[Vesper Sear]

Vesper was searching for something. He was desperate now, to the point of obsession. He needed to learn necromancy. It had always been one of those things he fancied the idea with. Plus the fact that it had been outlawed made it even more alluring to him.

He walked into the dim library and went over to the stairs, without so much as a glance toward the custodians. He had planned to go as far as he could, he did not fear the legends of ghosts or specters.

As he went down into the deeper sections of the basement, he began to realize why people had such fear of going down here. The air was stiff and cold, and he probably wouldn't have been able to see anything if it wasn't for his Vysstichi heritage. He was thankful he had gotten his father's eyes.

As he made his way through the silent corridors, he found what he was looking for among a pile of old, dusty books filled with cobwebs. He brushed the book off and read the cover to himself. This was the one.

He began to remember when his obsession began, it was a little before his father, Meridius, had died. Vesper had noticed it in one of his father's books. Meridius Sear had also been interested in Necromancy, but never got into it. He feared it, but just like the stories of it. That was one thing Vesper always hated about his father, he was afraid. Afraid right up until the day he died.

The smile began to fade from Vesper's face as he decided it was time to leave this place. He made his way back up the dark corridors and stairs and proceeded to leave with the book. He decided he wanted to keep it, so he hid it in his ragged storm-grey cloak. He was ready to make a name for himself.

[Einhandr]

TS: After comeing to Vortex, A few days before the orcish attack. Winter of Era XII post fractum

In what seemed like a mear second amoung the endless numbers that represented the seconds in time. Einhandr had learned plenty that was contrary to what he was taught. His father figure Splaynt, taught him many a thing in his time before departure. He taught Einhandr about how the thelyrian Elves were of the highest calaber. they were the very essance of sention. He was told how no one ever opposed us. and that everyone else was inferior....Yes, that is what he was taught, and that is what he lived on for the past 200 years.

However...

From his short time in this city, the realization of just how much of a minority he is has begun to seep through the cracks of his persona, times it seemed, were changeing. the people were nothonoring him as they were supposedly ment to, no one gave into his will...

What was this? Why are things like this? Arn't i supiror to everyone? Arn't I greater than the others?....yet such a travesty it would seem has surrounded me. nothing seemed to be as it was told to me. Perhaps not all that he had been told was true?....



Einhandr's black figure appeared as the huge library doors swung opened, his black studded armor conforming to his figure in the light, stepping forth, he looked to the back on a wall where in the biggest letters were written in common..

Elven Histories - Level 2, Section 8

He proceeded to the acient gothic spiral that was chiseled out to provide steps for any willing walker. Has he proceeded upwards, the old irong bars shook abit, as if no one had used them for some time. The old musty basement smell started to engorge his nostrils as he reached the second level of the building. Many volumes of books could be found throughout. Not sure where to look, he motioned to a near by librarians apprentis who was stacking books..

"Where may i find an abundant amount of information on Thelyrian Elves?"

The aprentis said nothing, he only began to scan the shelf behind me, after a minute, he pulled a book out entitled 'The Racial Lore of Thelyrians' and handed it to Einhandr. "this should do you good for some time..." said the apprentis.

Einhandr took the book to a nearby book mount and laid the book across, it was a very dusty tome, it seemed no one had read it in a long time. He opened the first page where he could see a crest marking its official valitity amoung the scholars of the current library administration. So it was safe to asume much of the information contained therin was valid.

After scanning a few pages, he finaly came across a figure whom he had never heard about..Llan.

~ Llan ~

The figure of Llan has always been one shrouded in much mystery and folklore in Trelore, especially where the Thëlyri are concerned… indeed, many of the Treloreans believe that she is merely a fairytale figure, invented to explain away the legendary alliance of the Thëlyri and the Sea-Dragons.
However, the woman herself, the powerful Archbardess and, later on, politician, did exist, and she created a nation out of a minor tribal race, mainly through her own blood and grief.
The Thëlyri in the period before the Vysstichi wars had always been a very happy, carefree race… something which still comes through today, and they had rarely if ever participated in warlike activities… indeed, when the other Trelorean races had expanded onto their territories, the Thëlyri had chosen to settle in the seas instead.

However, needs as must, and the Thëlyri were pressed hard by the Vysstichi forces in many of their sea-bound campaigns…the Thëlyri, with their mostly unmilitarised forces and without the Dark Elves’ extensive knowledge of Arcana, had tried to delay the Vysstichi, but they had suffered not only great losses, but phenomenal defeats and many of their settlements had been razed by the magically and militaristically superior Dark Elves.
The Telera Llan, seeing that her race was facing extinction...

"What!" he thought to himself. "Pressed hard by the dark elves?" such a travesty could not possiably be true. "The Thelyirans..., a mear elven off race, pushed almost to extinction? Why have i not known this?" his eyes stormed the pages line by line, word by word, the anger was building up inside of him...for 200 years everyone he cared about had lied to him, about everything...

Reasoning that it would be best that both the Sea-Dragons and the Thëlyri remain hidden and quiet from the eyes of Trelore and the Empire beyond, Llan, now bereft of her Arcana, decided to form a nation from the several Thëlyri tribes… they had already been united with the war… and it was a simple thing to fuse them into one people.

"Gone into hideing?" Cowering down away from the world?...The sea was definatly not the brave fortress the chidlren were taught about,...it was but a hideing spot from the dark elves, a palce where the thelyrians could run to and take cover..pfeh.

The Thëlyri Queen, wooed by the soft voice of her lover, produced one baby girl only… and forevermore, there would only be born from the Llyhedran females only one girl-child… the Geas of the Sea-Dragons was all-binding, and the crafty Dragons had ensured that there would be no more than one Llyhedran female at any given time who would be capable of pursuing the forbidden Song and Arcana… although if the one girl-child died, then another would be born to continue the line.

"They don't deserve the loyalty of the sea dragons" he thought, "Why would they even bother with people who ran from the lowly denizens of the underdark?" Many thoughts entered into his mind...

so, he continued to read, he read about the entier story of Llan, and thier war with the dark elves. after a few hours of reading about the 'high and mighty' history of his people...he was astonded, and a seed of rage was burying itself inside of him. His race was no supiror or pure race, his race, his people, were cowards who ran into the sea for cover....

"I won't have it!" he yelled. disturbing the peace within the library for a breif moment. He slammed the book onto the table and walked to the balcony and jumped off down to the first floor. And stormed out into the streets where he would take a walk for awhile....

[Anora Eventide]

(Morning, 42nd of Cryxatum, summer, Era XIV)

The state of things in the Vortexian library mildly offended Anora's sense of order. Plumes of dust rose as she edged a dead plant with her foot, and sickly cobwebs gathered in swaths in some corners.
Some signs of age lent a touch of distinction, but this was a little much. Books were meant to be musty, not entombed. However, this was Vortex, not Daltina or Natura. A thematic drear settled about some portions of the place and sunk it claws in. She could not fight the spirit of an entire city if it was possessed by such a hungry thing.

Apart from the eras' accruement of dust, the library, any library, bid Anora be at peace. What she could not comprehend through the heart could be sifted through the mind. Thousands of little words falling into her thoughts, turning her blood different colors with their influence. Her hand paused lovingly on the cover of a discarded tome. On a strange whim, she held it to her bosom as she approached the grizzled dwarf.

He gave the prissy lady a passing look from over the top of his own volume.
"Recipe books are towards the back, lady."
Sadly, this one was likely not here to sample the thrilling books on arms and armor.

Anora cleared her throat before beginning in her caramel tone.
"I'm afraid that's not what I'm looking for."
The dwarf raised an eyebrow so thick it almost melded with his hairline.
"Some sappy book about princes and love?"
Anora almost scowled, but she was on her best behavior for this endeavor.
"No, Sir. They are too silly for my taste. I like histories, but I'm not here for a book."
"Then you picked the wrong place, lady." He huffed gruffly.
Nonplussed, Anora pressed on.
"I'm looking for some employment. I was told you might need assistance here." She placed the discarded book on the table and looked at the rising stack behind him of orphaned tomes.
"Maybe," he replied with a bit more interest. "But we don’t pay enough to satisfy your sort."
Anora gave a slim, pretty smile.
"My sort will work for fifty crowns a cycle."
It was a price lower than what the dwarf expected from a human so snootily attired. He shut his book.
"But will you work? This isn't a blacksmith's but it isn't a tea party."
"I will work for two days, if you are displeased I will leave without pay." Anora traced invisible shapes on the surface of his desk, "If I perform to your standards, as I will, then you pay me for my time."

Pebble Masher, shifted in his seat. "Very well, but this place is not all sweetness and light. Some awful things to a lady are thought to lurk in the cellars."
A brief, knowing smile turned Anora's pretty face a mite disconcerting. She had heard such rumors, and they had only convinced her further of the location's merits.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that, Sir." She looked at him fully, "I'm a cautious girl."

Pebble Masher was a bit puzzled by the woman's willingness to work amidst such conditions. His hand pinched his beard and stroked its wild strands.
"Very well then, Ms…"
"Eventide. Anora Eventide."
"Ms. Eventide. I am Mr. Pebble Masher, and I will see you tomorrow at eight sharp for work."

With a pleased look, Anora nodded and curtsied.
"Of course, you won't be disappointed."

[Ashandra]

Mid-Afternoon in Dianara, Cryxatum in the Season of Summer

Ashandra sloly made her way through the doors of the library, trying her hardest to keep the wide-eyed look out of her eyes. It was hard, however, as she stared around the huge building, overflowing with book after book.

The language of this land was strange to her -- when spoken. Reading it was another matter altogeather. While she perhaps would have some difficulty speaking with people as a whole, when reading she had a better grasp of the semantics of the language -- and perhaps by reading, her ability to communicate would improve, as well.

She walked aimlessly, reading the titles of books and articles at random as she walked. However, one caught her eye, and she found herself pausing, slowly sl iding the book from the shelf and finding a comfortable place to sit against the opposite bookshelf, making herself as comfortable as possible as she opened Spellcasting: Theory and Practice by Skay Ravendi

[Kaleal]

Timestamp:
8th Brightening of the Month of Kalendryas, in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum.

Looking around at the vast quantities of books in the library, Kaleal realised that his task would not be simple. Wandering the avenues of shelves, he scanned the titles of the books for anything that looked like it may be associated with the subject in hand.

As he neared the end of one of the narrow spaces between the shelves, his eye alighted on a volume that was lying on the floor nearby. The tome looked like it had not been touched for some time, and was coated in a thick layer of dust. Picking it up, Kaleal brushed enough of the dust off of the cover to unveil the title - "The theory and casting of necromancy". Unsurprisingly, the author's name was unmentioned.

Sitting at a nearby table, Kaleal started to proceed with the task of copying out appropriate passages from the book.

[Anora Eventide]

Kaleal

"Do you require any assistance, Sir?"
The woman's voice was velvet soft and silk smooth, and seemingly from nowhere until Kaleal turned around.
A neatly dressed woman with black hair in a prim twist, balanced an armful of books on her hip, evidently one of the librarians. She glanced beyond Kaleal's shoulder at the tome opened before him.
"Ah," an inscrutable light came to her azure eyes, "That is a dangerous volume."
Her head tilted curiously on her swan like neck.
"I assume you seek such information to quash the rising tide of the black art?" She adjusted the books on her hip.
"Perhaps I can find you more of that sort, or perhaps not, this library has a tendency to swallow books and disgorge them at its fancy."

[Amber Brightwing]

OOCRounding this up with the NPC's that came along since Kaleal seems to have disappeared.

“It is not to quash the rising tide of the black art I’m afraid.” A Human voice sounded from behind Anora, addressing her question before the Dracon could answer. If she’d turn around she’d find him smiling friendly at her. If not he’d walk around and address her face to face. “We’re doing this for more scholarly reasons, trying to compile some information about the dark