Mist and Magic

A warm and humid morning. So much so that fog hangs in the still air. One might only hope that a breeze may appear later or the sun might bake away the humidity... though that would only make it all the more warm. Environment and timing leave the Arcanist Society grounds light on pedestrians: those who were required to be conscious, such as teachers and pupils, are already in their classrooms; those that were not required to be conscious likely are not yet so.

Verna is not bound be schedule, and yet she makes her way onto the grounds all the same. She is adorned in a simple sundress in bright yellow breaing a white-flowered pattern, feet mostly bare in a pair of sandals. No cloaks nor robes, nor even a floating tome. Well... almost not, as a small crate bearing several tomes hovers in her wake (rather than ahead and open for reading) as she makes her way, somewhat slowly, towards the Society Library.

Alaric adjusted the strap of his satchel and took a deep breath, the humid air clinging to his lungs. He glanced around the grounds of the Society for Progressive Arcanists, noting the absence of bustling pedestrians. The fog hung thick, muting the colors of the city and giving the hall an ethereal, almost dreamlike quality.

Alaric adjusted the strap of his satchel and took a deep breath, the humid air clinging to his lungs. He glanced around the grounds of the Society for Progressive Arcanists, noting the absence of bustling pedestrians. The fog hung thick, muting the colors of the city and giving the hall an ethereal, almost dreamlike quality.

He made his way towards the library, the familiar path a comfort amid the uncertainty of his future. The gray robes he wore clung to his frame, slightly damp from the heavy air. Alaric's mind was a whirl of arcane formulas and theoretical constructs, a symphony of possibilities yet to be realized. He had always found solace in the written word, in the quiet companionship of books that seemed to whisper secrets of the universe just for him.

As he approached the library, he noticed Verna, her bright yellow sundress a stark contrast to the muted environment. She moved with a grace that seemed unaffected by the oppressive weather, her crate of tomes hovering obediently behind her. Alaric watched her for a moment, envying her apparent ease and direction. Unlike him, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing and where she was going. "Hello again," he offers with a faint smile and a wave.

One of the many doorways leading into lecture halls is abruptly thrown open, a professor's voice spills out into the lazy grounds, "-ou sneak into my lecture again, I will have you expe-!"

The door is shut to close them out, a smug looking egalrin woman covered in ribbons and robes dusting herself off. "Now we betta' unda'stand why beet root makes a terrible replacement for bl- oooh, looksie who's it is...!"

She skips on over towards the Mourner, an oversized sewing needle of a staff clacking beside her as she goes. "Why hello-!" She blinks. "Oh- dear. I heards 'bout what happen shug. You's good? Need help wit' anythin'?"

Bright blue eyes dart over to Alaric in surprise, as a hand raises in apology. "Oh! Sorr' shug. Didn't mean ta interrupt ya, ain' seen Verna in a hot second. Got a lil' excited."

On their way out from the Library is a Goblin, who struts noticeably in silver and gold chainmail. Spinning around her forefinger by a leather cord is a small coin pouch. She seems especially pleased today, in her mannerism and expression. With a flourish, she tucks the little pouch up under her chain shirt, and then offers the Mourner a wave.

The loud interruption of the quiet has Murder snorting, eyeing the Egalrin with a grin. She then looks at Alaric, eyes curious, but not staying on him for long. She approaches and offers Verna a wave. "I had heard of what happened. I wish you a speedy recovery, Verna."

Verna's ...grace may be a a very subjective matter. She does not stumble nor fall to potentially injure herself; perhaps that is grace, enough. Slow steps pause, her head dips to Alaric. Before a response is uttered, however, her eyes are drawn to the lecture ejectee and then Murder's arrival. "It is good to see you again," she offers to all, before a wrinkled hand makes a light, dismissive wave. "There must be little news as of late for so many to have naught more interesting tales to spread. I am well enough, but your words are appreciated." Her eyes shift back to Slixvah. "You -are- aware that you can enroll in classes before arrival, I presume?"

Alaric glanced up from his book, his concentration momentarily broken by the commotion. The Egalrin woman's arrival and loud greeting pulled him from the depths of his studies, and he watched the interaction with mild curiosity. Her bright blue eyes met his, and he offered a polite, if somewhat awkward, nod in return.

"Ah, no worries," he said, his voice soft but clear. "I was just getting started."

He closed his book gently, marking his place with a piece of parchment. The library had been his refuge, a place where he could lose himself in the intricacies of magic and forget the uncertainties that lay ahead. But the lively energy of the Egalrin and the Goblin's confident stride reminded him that there was more to the world than just the quiet pages of his tomes.

Alaric shifted in his seat, feeling a bit out of place amid the more dynamic personalities. He offered a tentative smile to Verna, remembering the mention of her recent troubles. "If there's anything I can do to help, Verna, just let me know. I've got a bit of time before my next lesson."

His gaze returned to the Egalrin, her exuberance both infectious and a little overwhelming. "And, um, if you need any help with your studies or... anything else, really, I'm here too."

Alaric wasn't entirely sure what he could offer, but the words felt right. He had come to the Society for Progressive Arcanists to learn, not just from books, but from the people around him. Perhaps this was a chance to start doing just that.

The Goblin nods. "Just the usual scuttlebutt and rumour. But seems solid enough to suss out that /something/ happened, and you had had it rough." She frowns lightly. "Do ya need someone beat up? Some monstah slain?" She smacks her fist into her palm.

Murder giggles then at Slixvah. "Or if ya don't want t'register, not all the kids here have wealthy parents or mentors. Some are probably quite willing to share their notes and assistance for a few silvers or less. A little extra pocket money is always appreciated, ya?" Murder rubs at the back of her head a moment. "Or if you need someone to 'convince' someone to take a few days off so as you can take their place, maybe I can help?"

There's a moment or two that passes, before Murder suddenly changes into a slovenly looking Goblin with pale grey skin, a pot belly, though dressed to the nines in a fine suit, tie and black tophat. Which they life, twirl in one hand, and then bow, before replacing it atop their bald head.

Slixvah gives a recognized upnod toward Murder before turning her attention to the slow rolling Verna. She snickers. "Ya gotta be enrolled in th' school ta enroll in classes," she winks. "I ain' gonna wait ta get into Advanced Material Component Studies when I already know th' basics. Plus, it's fun ta keep them on their toes." She shakes her head at Murder. "I make m'own time and rules, don' worr'. Been doin' this fo' a long while."

She looks up slightly towards the apprentice, and while a smile doesn't change her face much, it blooms in a closed eye grin. "Well das mighty kind of ya ta offer! What'chu know good?" She eyes his robes, perking slightly. "Fresh outta academy? I almost got done graduated befo' I got kicked out- not here, mind, Rune- so I can get th' itchin' ta do somethin'!"

She jabs an open hand out towards him. "One of the best-y, easy ta impress me, th' name's Slixvah Unmesi!"

Verna glances askew at Murder. "I will dare presume that your implications are in jest, rather than threats to members or pupils of the Society. I may no longer offer my own lectures," she reminds, "but I remain a member." She then segues to note, for the student(s), "There is much to be learned and there is a great repository of knowledge here. However, not all methodologies are universally agreeable to all."

A thought strikes and she glances back to the floating crate of tomes behind her and back. "I am en route to donate some knowledge, as a matter of relevance. I believe it best that it be accessible to all, yet should any of you have any interest in any of the materials..." one hand gestures to the open crate, "it is highly likely that the library may already contain some titles."

Alaric blinked at Slixvah's enthusiasm, her energy a stark contrast to the quiet he had been immersed in moments before. He stood up from his seat, straightening his gray robes, and accepted her hand with a firm shake.

"Alaric," he introduced himself, his voice steady. "Alaric of Blackbriar. It's good to meet you, Slixvah."

He chuckled lightly at her question, scratching the back of his head. "I'm still learning, really. I've been focusing on elemental magic and transmutation, but I've got a lot to learn. I'm fresh out of the academy, yes. It's... an adjustment."

His gaze shifted to Verna and the floating crate of tomes. "I'd be very interested in seeing what you're donating," he said earnestly. "There's always something new to learn, and I'd love to expand my studies beyond just what's required in my courses."

He turned back to Slixvah, his interest piqued by her story. "It sounds like you've had quite the journey yourself. If you've got any tips or interesting techniques, I'd love to hear them. I'm trying to figure out my own path, and it's always helpful to hear from those who've been doing this longer."

He smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. Despite the unexpected interruption, the lively conversation was a welcome change from the solitude of his studies. Perhaps this was exactly what he needed to gain a new perspective on his magical education.

The Goblin offers Slixvah a cheery and cheeky salute. "At's okay, guvnah!", she says, and while her accent changes (and is terrible), her voice doesn't. She laughs at her rhyme. "Quite th'show, guvnah, yer not all sixes and sevens after all." Another hat tip before she giggles. "Now, if ya have any fire related inquiries, I'd be glad ta help!"

Her gaze returns to Verna, and she laughs. "YES, I am jesting! I in no way would ever attempt to ... convince students to be tardy or commit truancy!" Murder sticks out her tongue at Verna. Probably not convincing.

"Blackbriar? Town just down th'road a little from Alexandria? Nice inn they have there, I may say!" Another hattip, before it all vanishes, and the pot-belly Goblin returns to the former slender one.

"Welcome to Alexandria!"

Slixvah gives Alaric a firm shake in return. "Pleasure ta meet'cha too, Alaric!" She pulls back briefly, looking him over for a beat before her arms rest akimbo on her hips. "Those'll go a long way do ya good fo' startin' out! It's always a weird feelin'. Used ta th' rigor of coursework, and then- poof! Get out there! Figuring out th' adjustment is an understatement!"

"Oooh! Free books!" Slixvah cheerily chirps before starting to peer into the floating box. Murder's transmogification garners a snort. "Cute trick, shug."

While rifling through tomes, she glances aside before smiling at Alaric. "You could say it's a journey! I wouldn' do exactly what I've done, ta be real wit'chu, but, if I could offer a tip... hmmm." She taps her beak. "Ah! Whatever plan you got, or whatever you're trying to learn, especially if you're starting to go into your own studies, you can never prepare fo' whatever is ta come."

She rifles through more tomes, pulling out something titled 'Obtuse Matrices and Quasi-Incantations'. "If ya need anything Alaric tha's related ta strange and I dare say... eccentric esoterica of the arcane, I'm ya gal."

She grins, echoing Murder, "Welcome ta Alexandria."

"PLease," Verna encourages Alaric as Slixvah does not appear to require any. She then takes a moment to lower herself onto the bench; no need to stand when not moving, afterall. "Indeed, there is ever more to learn, and many sources from which to do so. One should never believe they know all; such moments are oft followed by painful moments to disprove the notion."

Crik has arrived.

Alaric listened intently, a smile spreading across his face as the Goblin, Murder, and Slixvah shared their lively banter. The energy around him was infectious, and he found himself relaxing further, the weight of his uncertainties lifting slightly.

"Thank you," he said warmly, glancing at each of them in turn. "I appreciate the welcome. And yes, Blackbriar is indeed the town near Alexandria. It's a small place, but it's home."

He watched as Slixvah rifled through the tomes, her enthusiasm for knowledge matching his own. "That's great advice," he admitted, nodding thoughtfully. "I'll try to keep that in mind. Sometimes it's hard not to overthink things, especially when there's so much to learn and so many directions to take."

Alaric's eyes lit up at the mention of strange and eccentric esoterica. "I'll definitely take you up on that offer, Slixvah. There's so much about the arcane that fascinates me, especially the more obscure and complex aspects."

He turned to Verna, appreciating her calm presence and wise words. "You're right, of course. The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don't know. It's humbling, but also exciting. There's always something new to discover."

Taking a deep breath, Alaric felt a renewed sense of purpose. "I'll make sure to visit the library more often and see what other treasures it holds. And if any of you ever need assistance with anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'm still figuring things out, but I'm eager to help and learn as much as I can."

He looked around at the eclectic group, feeling a sense of camaraderie despite their different backgrounds and experiences. For the first time since leaving the academy, he felt like he was truly part of something larger, a community bound by the shared pursuit of knowledge and magic.

"Sadly, there are a few things you cannot learn, though arcane magic has some workarounds or substitutes." The Goblin sticks a thumb into her chest, "I'm a bloodrager. Learned me craft from the Oruch. My da, and one of his tribe's masters. My magic comes from my blood, kinda like a sorcerer. Except we use pure rage and weaponry insteada wands, fairy dust and nasty tasting components." Murder's grin is broad and toothy. "But if ya ever want to learn the secrets of biting half your tongue off, descending into the red mists and wakin' up t'see all your enemies carved up into gore, hit me up!"

She offers up a wee hand to Alaric. "Name's Murder! Nice ta meet ya, Alaric!"

that same grin is focused on Slixvah. "Thanks! It's my hat!" A small barrette is pulled from her hair, dull black in colour, and it immediately changes into a straw hat with a pink ribbon and bow around it. "It lets you change your look, even you body shape, though, it can't make you look like another race or really tall or somethin. Still pretty nifty for blending into a crowd and not looking like yerself!"

"Oh I kno' tha' all too much, Verna," Slixvah hums, tucking the book under an arm. A smile is shot Alaric's way. "Fo' sho'. Improvisation tend's ta fit better than rigid expectations."

Her interest is piqued as the apprentice seems receptive to the strange. Seems like her enthusiasm has no bounds. Or, her ego is much too large. "Matters of th' fates, occult, mishmashed magics, a dabble of dreams, a lotta weird restoratives. I ain' traditional in th' sense like yaself, but-" She grins. "-ya never know what overlaps."

She glances at Murder. Slowly blinks. "... effective, bu' I'm gonna have ta pass on tha' one shug. I'd prefer ta keep my head in the white clouds 'stead of red mists."

A smirk dashes across her visage. "Oh, I knows all 'bout that thing. Tha' a robe I picked up long ago, plus some of my own mojo, I'm all over being whoever. In fact, I got kicked out earlier because I was pretending ta be one of the absent students!" Another book is looted from the box, 'Interplanar Connectedness: What Really Binds your Summons'.

GAME: Crik rolls disguise: (2)+12: 14

Speaking of libraries, a hunched over and very heavily robed figure drags their feet along the floor. A _massive_ pile of tomes and scrolls is precariously balanced atop the figure's hands and even back. Maps, parchment, thick tomes, a sheet of recipes...

Black clawed toes click against the floor as the figure briefly pauses, stares at the group - and then more rapidly starts to walk along. A few scrolls flop down onto the floor.

GAME: Murder rolls perception: (7)+21: 28

"I reget, at times, that my abilities are from faith and knowledge, rather than ancestry," Verna admits. "Not enough that I would wish to risk tongue and red mists, however." A caveat to Murder. "Still, I hold the view that how one shapes it is more the nature of the user than the nature of mana. There is no 'proper' method, from its point of view."

Alaric chuckled nervously at Murder's description of her bloodrager abilities, the imagery vivid and somewhat unsettling. He took her hand in a friendly shake, nodding appreciatively at her introduction.

"Nice to meet you, Murder," he replied with a friendly smile. "That sounds... intense. I think I'll stick to my books for now, but I'll keep your offer in mind."

Turning to Slixvah, he marveled at her transformative barrette and listened with genuine interest as she talked about her unconventional approach to magic. "Your approach to magic sounds fascinating, Slixvah. It's amazing how diverse and creative arcane practices can be."

He nodded politely to Verna as she shared her perspective on magic and its various forms, feeling a kinship with her dedication to learning and understanding.

"Well, it's been great meeting all of you," Alaric said, gathering his satchel and standing up from his chair. "But I've actually got to go check on something in the alchemy lab. There's a potion I've been trying to perfect."

He offered a wave to the group, genuine gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you for the conversation and the insights. I'll see you around, I'm sure."

With that, Alaric made his way out of the library, already thinking about the experiments waiting for him and the mysteries yet to be unraveled in his studies of magic.

Alaric has left.

The Goblin nods to Verna, "Oh, there are lots of ways to do magic. And it can be very personal. But, well, there are still ways that work, and ways that are bunk. Healing potion versus 'love potion', right?" She offers a wave to Alaric as he makes his way, "Nice meeting you! Best of luck! try the Guild if you are looking for extra coin!"

Murder stares at Crick for a long moment, and sniffs at the Egalrin. She moves to intercept the black-feathered man, pausing only a moment to snatch up the dropped scrolls. The Gobbo comes to a halt in his path. "Ya dropped these.", she says, offering up the scrolls. "Crik".

A nod is offered to Slixvah. "I can understand. Losing myself to the red is how I gained an extra finger, and two extra toes, one time."

Slix bobs her head at Verna's purview. "Oh totes. Lotta ways to tap inta mana. The method don' really matter much, it's all the same."

A laugh escapes her, the egalrin waving a hand off at Alaric. "Oh stop it, you. But it's tru'! It's very diverse! I love it." Another book, 'The Arcane is Arcane'. A wing waves at the apprentice. "You're so ver' welcome shug! Catch you 'round!"

A dropped scroll(s) from a student grabs her attention. Blinks at them. Then giggles in a twittering mess. "Ya need help wit' all dat?" she proffers before he can escape.

The chuckling dies down to a quirked brow at Murder. "Interestin'. Havin' extra appendagates is always a strange thing. Turnin' myself inta a makari is always weird fo' me 'cause of th' tail. Can't imagine havin' extra fingies."

Crik stands in moment of stillness - then slowly stretches upright. "I, I." He looks around for a moment, then opens his beak, closes it. "... I was returning these to the library." Yes, not taking them out the library. "I forgot my library pass."

Then he carefully leans down and attempts to pick up the offered scrolls. "It was really nice catching up but I have to..." And then another leather parchment drops out, rolling out to expose a large detailed map.

"It felt normal though, like it was a part of me. I turned in circles for hours before I figured out what the problem was. Took a bit of .. work, to undo the damage. Never go wading into magically infused sewer water. Even if the place is burnin' down. Again. Unintentionally."

Her eyes are drawn downward at the map. She squints at it, at length. "Oh. In the one I've got, the X is on that other mountain over there." she points to a spot on the map. "Sadly it was empty too."

Slixvah gives her fellow eglarin a sly look. "Shure ya was, shug." Her eyes glance down at the unfurled map. "Now das a nicely made piece of cartography. I like th' lil' dragon on it. You lookin' fo' somethin' in particular?"

She nods once towards Murder, half making a face. "Ew. I wouldn't wanna get in sewer water in th' first place. It'd get all everywhere."

The map had a lot of detail - and a large fancy dragon, for reasons only cartographers can comprehend - but it also seemed to have a lot of dots and notes littered across detailing locations of arcanic, religious and generally avoid these places interest.

"Oh." Crik says, looking at the marked X. "That is good to know. Is it the Earl Wiggermein translation?" He asks from Murder then. The other egalrin's question seems to snap him back to the 'panic caught with illicit goods in hands mode' and he quickly rolls up the large map with his feet. "N-no, just taking a look for - scenic research." Then a pause. "Cotton cloaks are very bad for sewer trips."

GAME: Slixvah rolls craft/cartography: (8)+16: 24

GAME: Murder rolls craft/cartography: (15)+2: 17

GAME: Murder rolls knowledge/nobility: Trained Use Only: 0

"You have /no/ idea.", Murder says flatly. "I was trying to find something I'd seen down there ages ago. There'd been some flooding. Never did find it, but it worked out alright, 'cause I found where it had gotten to, and long story short, I got to burn it. Most satisfying thing to watch burning, ever. Saved a whole lotta people doing it too, fer once." The Goblin interlaces her fingers and turns them outwards, cracking all of her knuckles in one go. "All in a da... year's work."

The Goblin squints at Crik. "Never heard o'that Earl. But I have heard of the Cave of Insufficient Light before." A wee finger-claw taps on the map, at the original X. "Already long since looted. No shinies. Only skeletons, thankfully not undead... broken urns and desecrated grave goods."

Slix smiles at Crik, bemused. "Alright then, keep your secrets. I kno' a thing or two about scenic places too~" she sing songs. "Dunno if it's th' Earl's, but it's a true map tha's fo' sho. The map is snapped up by Crik.

A light whistle escapes her. "Well das good ta hear. Why is there never anythin' good in th' sewers, ya know?" she huffs.

Crik carefully balances - and then tosses the map atop his pile of tomes with his foot. It neatly rest against the 'Anthony Gearstick - a collection of half-truths and arcane'. It was a very thick tome.

"I do not have any secrets! I am just looking for-" A pause, then he looks around with his beak open. "A tomb of, uh, temple, old... god... maybe?" He tries. And would smile, if beak twisted that way.

"Cos anyone moving stuff through th'sewer ain't leaving anythin' behind, an' the otyughs get anything that is left behind. Not ta mention the otyughs inform the guard if there's trouble in the sewers." Murder shrugs at Slixvah. "So it's just he bad stuff that gets left behind."

The Goblin pats Crik on the shoulder. "Suuuure, no secrets at all. Nope, not you." Another scroll is held up. "You dropped this too."

She offers them both a wave. "Well, I have to get going. Have to get some fuel into the furnace. Take care!" With that, the Goblin turns and begins to saunter away.

Slix looks a bit weary of the towering tomes, her torn between taking a half step away to stay safe, or towards to help balance it. "A temple tomb of the maybe old god," she fires back, snickering. "Got it. Well, if ya need a hand looking for scenic overlooks of decrepit ruins, you know who to chirp at."

She nods towards Murder, sighing. "Yeah... at least the otyughs are nice. Usually." She gives a little wave of a wing. "Alrighty shug, catch you later!"

She turns back to Crik. "How abouts I help you 'return' all dem literature, hmm?" She cheekily grins.

Crik grabs the scroll and there's a motion underneath his student robes - but then he lets out a long exhale as Slix offers to help him with his tomes. "... yes, this one could use the help." He says dejectedly and starts to head towards the library.

"And it is not exactly 'scenic' but 'underground and dusty'..." He explains to the other egalrin.

Slixvah gives a thankful smile and nod towards the resting Verna. "Thanks fo' th' books Verna, lemme know if you need anything!"

Turning towards Crik, she starts to walk with him, an entirely amused twinkle in her sky blue eyes. "Excellent! Don' worr' underground and dusty just means unexplored and antique!" she trills as they head off.