"Oh! Well, I..." The compliment is clearly unexpected and Aithne fumbled a bit with her reply to Aisla's praise, cheeks pinking at the attention, "Um, thank you. I'm just happy I could help." The promise of a warm drink and something sweet was almost enough to distract her from the rest.
At the offer of the token, Aithne opened her mouth to protest-- helping for such a short time was hardly worthy of a gift-- but closed it with a snap when the item was presented. "This is lovely." She breathed, enclosed the marble head in both palms, cradling it gently.
Now her fingers were truly tingling. She badly wanted to set up an identifying ritual to uncover the secrets of this magical object. Did they have time? Probably not, she acknowledged with an internal sigh. "Do you have a name?" She inquired, repeating Avrol's question as she brought the broken statue up to her eye level.
"Do I have a name, they ask. Why, of course I do! I am Makyra Scrivenmoor, one of the Sages of the Blood Age. My spirit was bound to this statue nearly a millennium ago so that my knowledge could be preserved, my histories taught to curious Strixhaven students. And I did quite a great job of that, too, before those damned first years pushed me into the chasm after a particularly rowdy Haunting's Eve party. I'll never forgive you, Ambrose Wakechild! ... Nonetheless, since I do not have legs and cannot run away, it would seem that I am in your (hopefully tender) care, Miss...?" The voice trails off, as though waiting for you to introduce yourself.
"Oh! So, you were bound by a Pastraiser? I've read of it, but never seen, or met I suppose, a spirit that had been bound." Arvol speaks from just behind Aithne. "I'm Arvol Flintwind, by the way. Aithne's friend - well, I hope maybe she thinks of me as a friend, we only met today, a few hours ago..." He finally stops the long-winded sentence, blushing slightly at his lack of eloquence.
"Of course you can call me your friend. I'd like that very much." Aithne smiled delightedly at Arvol, pleased and surprised by the request. She was making friends already. How wonderfully novel. It wasn't that she'd avoided the children her same age in her home village, but her interests has been so far removed from theirs that it had been hard for her to uncover any common ground.
Still smiling warmly, she turned back to Makyra. "I'm Aithne Dresar. I'm so very pleased to meet you. I'd love to hear more about your life. Perhaps this evening? I'm certain we'll have time to talk after ajourning to the dormitories. My classmates and I are new students at Strixhaven and we're working on completing our orientation. We have a few more locations to visit before the evening. Would you be willing to join us?"
"Well met. In regards to your question, seeing as I lack the limbs (and a torso, to boot) necessary to perform any sort of terrestrial locomotion, it seems I've no choice but to accompany you and your comrades,"Makyra huffs. "But who knows, perhaps it will be an enlightening experience. I have overheard many customers mention that this place is the largest and most expansive archive of knowledge, both magical and mundane, in all of existence, and I was never able to visit it while I was stuck in place outside Kolemma Hall. I would very much like to see such a repository of knowledge, even the whole campus at large, rather than spend the rest of eternity as a knick-knack trapped on the steepest of shelves in this perpetual purgatory that smells only of roasted bean water!"
"It's called coffee, Makyra," Aisla corrects. "Coffee."
"Gesundheit. Please, take me away from here, Miss Dresar. Fare thee well, shelf bric-a-brac! So long, illusory squirrels! And good riddance, bean water! I am off to a new chapter of my eternal history!"
Aithne hid a smile, charmed by the bold and unapologetic attitude of the statuette. It appeared that being bound to marble hadn't taken away any of the spark Makyra Scrivenmoor had displayed in life. "I'd be happy to take you wherever you'd like to go once we complete our orientation." Aithne offered. "I'm sure it would be helpful for me to learn the campus grounds as well."
Cupping Makyra's form gently in one hand, Aithne formed a series of spell signs with her opposite, speaking the finishing word to bind the magic to her need. The statuette was lifted from her grasp by her summoned Mage Hand, drifting into position over Aithne's left shoulder. "There. Now you'll have a much better view." Maintaining her focus on the casting would allow her to keep Makyra aloft for as long as needed.
With her hands once again free, Aithne accepted a mug of tea, heavily sweetened with honey, and a chocolate-filled pastry, breathing deeply of the delicious aromas before taking her first bite. She practically purred with contentment. The food was as fantastic as the rest of the Biblioplex was proving to be. She couldn't wait to see what excitement they'd encounter next!
"Ah, what a clever employment of the mage hand cantrip, Miss Dresar! Now I will not have to be held in anyone's sweaty hands (not that yours were sweaty, Miss Dresar, not at all!) and should I require it, you can move me further away to get a better look at things! Marvelous, marvelous. You will make an excellent minion - I mean, colleague! Student!" Makyra quickly corrects herself."As for you, boy, ah... what was your name, Arnold Flinton? My spirit was, indeed, sealed by a Pastraiser long ago, one of the first to undergo the process! ... I believe. My memory of the subject is a bit fuzzy. Ever since the fall, you see. Damn that Wakechild and his little friends..."
"Arvol Flintwind," Arvol repeats to Makyra, though he suspects the effort is futile. "I do find the process interesting. It always seemed to me a bit excessive to imprison a spirit into an object. Though you seem to enjoy it - well, now that you aren't stuck in the cafe."
"So it is a spirit imprisoned in that head huh, probably as punishment for arrogance and social incompetence don't you think?" Aelyn says to Arvol in a lowered voice, taking a sip from his hot bean water. "Ambre, I have a new challenge for you. Is it possible to artifice a body to Makyra?" He says a bit louder, half joking by the sounds of it. "We would not want to hinder her exploring the campus on her own and share her wonderful personality with other students as well." He adds a bit lower again to Arvol. "I am Aelyn by the way, Aelyn Silversong."He then says to Makyra. "You should have overheard quite a lot during your interesting years on that shelf, perhaps even the solutions to these riddles we have to solve?"
"I guess 'imprison' is my word. I think a Pastraiser would say 'bind'," Arvol says, a bit oblivious to Aelyn's lowered voice. "It always seemed a bit excessive to me - Dustspeakers simply converse with spirits of the past, without resorting to binding. That's what I'd like to learn. Well, some day."
He then looks around as they are walking."Weren't the gardens we saw back that way?"
"Sorry, never heard of Pastraisers, or Dustspeakers, is it some sort of magical tradition or school?" Aelyn asks as they go along, clearly curious about Arvol and his knowledge.
"Oh! Those are a couple of the areas of study in Lorehold College," Arvol says excitedly. "Can you imagine being able to just talk to people from the past in order to learn about what happened? Well, guess you don't have to imagine..." He laughs a bit. "We have Makyra right here!"
"Umm, yes, very interesting but isn't that why we have books, to pass on knowledge?" Aelyn says, not seeming quite as excited as Arvol. "So Makyra, a Sage of the Blood age, sounds impressive but I have no idea what that means." He goes on saying to Arvol in a lowered voice.
Aithne hid a smile at the word 'minion,' taking another drink from her honeyed tea. Makyra was certainly going to be a handful. In more ways than one. In future, perhaps she could arrange for the statuette to tour the campus while she was working? She got the impression that watching her shelve books for hours on end wouldn't be something the figure would find entertaining. Though being locked in her dormitory or left stationary on the Information Desk would probably be equally as horrid. Aithne could only imagine the fussing that might result.
Listening to the friendly chatter and continuing to maintain the Mage Hand holding the marble head aloft, Aithne finished her chocolate pastry, following along behind the other students as they made their way toward the gardens. She was sure she'd find herself back in the cafe on a daily basis. Maybe Aisla would be willing to let her help in exchange for treats another day? Though her stipend from working as a Book Clerk was more than generous, she couldn't help but feel that purchasing sweets would be a bit wasteful.
"We passed the gardens on the way here." She confirmed, finishing off the last of her tea and leaving the cup behind as they exited. "I believe the entrance was on the left?"
Arvol grins and continues on despite Aelyn's lack of enthusiasm. "Very funny. Of course someone has to write the books! And those people have to get the information somehow!" He pauses a bit though, thinking before the last bit. "I think the Blood Age was something here in the history of Acrcavios. I'm not that familiar with it unfortunately."He does sound genuinely disappointed to be lacking in these historical details.
Having already finished up his sandwich, Arvol drinks down the last bit of tea as well. "If you know the way Aithine, then we'll be happy to follow!"
"A million factors, that's a lot of factors Ambre, I didn't know so many factors even existed."Aelyn comments weakly on Ambre's statement, not seeming to get what she is talking about.
"Well, it would be boring for you here if you already knew everything Arvol, you're here to learn right." Aelyn says and puts a friendly hand on Arvols shoulder.
"Yes, by all means, lead the way Aithne."Aelyn then chimes in smiling, giving Arvol a friendly nudge. "So, was the chocolate pastry any good Aithne, or is chocolate just heavenly in any form and shape?" Aelyn asks the bookish aasimar as they all make their way to the garden together.
You all make your way past the Hall of Oracles and toward one of the Biblioplex book gardens. These pockets of nature within the building are quite a refreshing sight. The smell of pleasant flowers, rich soil, and fresh cut grass fill the air. There's even some ambient bird song and insect buzzing amidst the trees, shrubs, and dense foliage, though you're not sure if that's made from actual animals or just a sonic illusion. Witherbloom students dressed in green and brown robes tend the space, trimming the hedges and watering the plants while some simply study. Another group of students appear to have set up a small picnic in this lush arboretum.
Nearby, a male orcish student with pale green skin, brown hair, thick glasses, and pronounced tusks dressed in a Witherbloom uniform is seated next to a series of various potted plants. A wooden arch spanning above him, seemingly made from woven-together branches and vines, spells out the words "Fantastical Horticulture Society," and a message spelled out in dark flowers just beneath it reads, "Apply today!"
Arvol takes just a moment to look at the various plants and the potted plants being tended by the orcish student. While the arch is interesting, his attention soon turns back to their task. "So, the clue was we need to pat the leafy beds. Where should we pat?" He moves in among the plants, trying to find a likely candidate. (Perception: 18)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Look for a leafy bed that is not what it seems, perhaps not leafy at all then?"Aelyn suggests to Arvol, but his mind is more set on finding beautiful flowers for beautiful people. Perception: 17 "Is it allowed to pick some flowers in the name of beauty." He politely asks bespectacled orc. Persuasion: 6
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"Oh! Well, I..." The compliment is clearly unexpected and Aithne fumbled a bit with her reply to Aisla's praise, cheeks pinking at the attention, "Um, thank you. I'm just happy I could help." The promise of a warm drink and something sweet was almost enough to distract her from the rest.
At the offer of the token, Aithne opened her mouth to protest-- helping for such a short time was hardly worthy of a gift-- but closed it with a snap when the item was presented. "This is lovely." She breathed, enclosed the marble head in both palms, cradling it gently.
Now her fingers were truly tingling. She badly wanted to set up an identifying ritual to uncover the secrets of this magical object. Did they have time? Probably not, she acknowledged with an internal sigh. "Do you have a name?" She inquired, repeating Avrol's question as she brought the broken statue up to her eye level.
"Do I have a name, they ask. Why, of course I do! I am Makyra Scrivenmoor, one of the Sages of the Blood Age. My spirit was bound to this statue nearly a millennium ago so that my knowledge could be preserved, my histories taught to curious Strixhaven students. And I did quite a great job of that, too, before those damned first years pushed me into the chasm after a particularly rowdy Haunting's Eve party. I'll never forgive you, Ambrose Wakechild! ... Nonetheless, since I do not have legs and cannot run away, it would seem that I am in your (hopefully tender) care, Miss...?" The voice trails off, as though waiting for you to introduce yourself.
"Oh! So, you were bound by a Pastraiser? I've read of it, but never seen, or met I suppose, a spirit that had been bound." Arvol speaks from just behind Aithne. "I'm Arvol Flintwind, by the way. Aithne's friend - well, I hope maybe she thinks of me as a friend, we only met today, a few hours ago..." He finally stops the long-winded sentence, blushing slightly at his lack of eloquence.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
"Of course you can call me your friend. I'd like that very much." Aithne smiled delightedly at Arvol, pleased and surprised by the request. She was making friends already. How wonderfully novel. It wasn't that she'd avoided the children her same age in her home village, but her interests has been so far removed from theirs that it had been hard for her to uncover any common ground.
Still smiling warmly, she turned back to Makyra. "I'm Aithne Dresar. I'm so very pleased to meet you. I'd love to hear more about your life. Perhaps this evening? I'm certain we'll have time to talk after ajourning to the dormitories. My classmates and I are new students at Strixhaven and we're working on completing our orientation. We have a few more locations to visit before the evening. Would you be willing to join us?"
"Well met. In regards to your question, seeing as I lack the limbs (and a torso, to boot) necessary to perform any sort of terrestrial locomotion, it seems I've no choice but to accompany you and your comrades," Makyra huffs. "But who knows, perhaps it will be an enlightening experience. I have overheard many customers mention that this place is the largest and most expansive archive of knowledge, both magical and mundane, in all of existence, and I was never able to visit it while I was stuck in place outside Kolemma Hall. I would very much like to see such a repository of knowledge, even the whole campus at large, rather than spend the rest of eternity as a knick-knack trapped on the steepest of shelves in this perpetual purgatory that smells only of roasted bean water!"
"It's called coffee, Makyra," Aisla corrects. "Coffee."
"Gesundheit. Please, take me away from here, Miss Dresar. Fare thee well, shelf bric-a-brac! So long, illusory squirrels! And good riddance, bean water! I am off to a new chapter of my eternal history!"
Aithne hid a smile, charmed by the bold and unapologetic attitude of the statuette. It appeared that being bound to marble hadn't taken away any of the spark Makyra Scrivenmoor had displayed in life. "I'd be happy to take you wherever you'd like to go once we complete our orientation." Aithne offered. "I'm sure it would be helpful for me to learn the campus grounds as well."
Cupping Makyra's form gently in one hand, Aithne formed a series of spell signs with her opposite, speaking the finishing word to bind the magic to her need. The statuette was lifted from her grasp by her summoned Mage Hand, drifting into position over Aithne's left shoulder. "There. Now you'll have a much better view." Maintaining her focus on the casting would allow her to keep Makyra aloft for as long as needed.
With her hands once again free, Aithne accepted a mug of tea, heavily sweetened with honey, and a chocolate-filled pastry, breathing deeply of the delicious aromas before taking her first bite. She practically purred with contentment. The food was as fantastic as the rest of the Biblioplex was proving to be. She couldn't wait to see what excitement they'd encounter next!
"Ah, what a clever employment of the mage hand cantrip, Miss Dresar! Now I will not have to be held in anyone's sweaty hands (not that yours were sweaty, Miss Dresar, not at all!) and should I require it, you can move me further away to get a better look at things! Marvelous, marvelous. You will make an excellent minion - I mean, colleague! Student!" Makyra quickly corrects herself. "As for you, boy, ah... what was your name, Arnold Flinton? My spirit was, indeed, sealed by a Pastraiser long ago, one of the first to undergo the process! ... I believe. My memory of the subject is a bit fuzzy. Ever since the fall, you see. Damn that Wakechild and his little friends..."
"Arvol Flintwind," Arvol repeats to Makyra, though he suspects the effort is futile. "I do find the process interesting. It always seemed to me a bit excessive to imprison a spirit into an object. Though you seem to enjoy it - well, now that you aren't stuck in the cafe."
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
"So it is a spirit imprisoned in that head huh, probably as punishment for arrogance and social incompetence don't you think?" Aelyn says to Arvol in a lowered voice, taking a sip from his hot bean water. "Ambre, I have a new challenge for you. Is it possible to artifice a body to Makyra?" He says a bit louder, half joking by the sounds of it. "We would not want to hinder her exploring the campus on her own and share her wonderful personality with other students as well." He adds a bit lower again to Arvol.
"I am Aelyn by the way, Aelyn Silversong." He then says to Makyra. "You should have overheard quite a lot during your interesting years on that shelf, perhaps even the solutions to these riddles we have to solve?"
"I guess 'imprison' is my word. I think a Pastraiser would say 'bind'," Arvol says, a bit oblivious to Aelyn's lowered voice. "It always seemed a bit excessive to me - Dustspeakers simply converse with spirits of the past, without resorting to binding. That's what I'd like to learn. Well, some day."
He then looks around as they are walking. "Weren't the gardens we saw back that way?"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
"Sorry, never heard of Pastraisers, or Dustspeakers, is it some sort of magical tradition or school?" Aelyn asks as they go along, clearly curious about Arvol and his knowledge.
"Oh! Those are a couple of the areas of study in Lorehold College," Arvol says excitedly. "Can you imagine being able to just talk to people from the past in order to learn about what happened? Well, guess you don't have to imagine..." He laughs a bit. "We have Makyra right here!"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
"Umm, yes, very interesting but isn't that why we have books, to pass on knowledge?" Aelyn says, not seeming quite as excited as Arvol. "So Makyra, a Sage of the Blood age, sounds impressive but I have no idea what that means." He goes on saying to Arvol in a lowered voice.
"Im Ambre by the way," Ambre says as she down her third possibly forth cup of coffee this morning.
"Maybe," she says to Arvol. "It all depends on about a million different factors."
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
Aithne hid a smile at the word 'minion,' taking another drink from her honeyed tea. Makyra was certainly going to be a handful. In more ways than one. In future, perhaps she could arrange for the statuette to tour the campus while she was working? She got the impression that watching her shelve books for hours on end wouldn't be something the figure would find entertaining. Though being locked in her dormitory or left stationary on the Information Desk would probably be equally as horrid. Aithne could only imagine the fussing that might result.
Listening to the friendly chatter and continuing to maintain the Mage Hand holding the marble head aloft, Aithne finished her chocolate pastry, following along behind the other students as they made their way toward the gardens. She was sure she'd find herself back in the cafe on a daily basis. Maybe Aisla would be willing to let her help in exchange for treats another day? Though her stipend from working as a Book Clerk was more than generous, she couldn't help but feel that purchasing sweets would be a bit wasteful.
"We passed the gardens on the way here." She confirmed, finishing off the last of her tea and leaving the cup behind as they exited. "I believe the entrance was on the left?"
Arvol grins and continues on despite Aelyn's lack of enthusiasm. "Very funny. Of course someone has to write the books! And those people have to get the information somehow!" He pauses a bit though, thinking before the last bit. "I think the Blood Age was something here in the history of Acrcavios. I'm not that familiar with it unfortunately." He does sound genuinely disappointed to be lacking in these historical details.
Having already finished up his sandwich, Arvol drinks down the last bit of tea as well. "If you know the way Aithine, then we'll be happy to follow!"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
"A million factors, that's a lot of factors Ambre, I didn't know so many factors even existed." Aelyn comments weakly on Ambre's statement, not seeming to get what she is talking about.
"Well, it would be boring for you here if you already knew everything Arvol, you're here to learn right." Aelyn says and puts a friendly hand on Arvols shoulder.
"Yes, by all means, lead the way Aithne." Aelyn then chimes in smiling, giving Arvol a friendly nudge. "So, was the chocolate pastry any good Aithne, or is chocolate just heavenly in any form and shape?" Aelyn asks the bookish aasimar as they all make their way to the garden together.
You all make your way past the Hall of Oracles and toward one of the Biblioplex book gardens. These pockets of nature within the building are quite a refreshing sight. The smell of pleasant flowers, rich soil, and fresh cut grass fill the air. There's even some ambient bird song and insect buzzing amidst the trees, shrubs, and dense foliage, though you're not sure if that's made from actual animals or just a sonic illusion. Witherbloom students dressed in green and brown robes tend the space, trimming the hedges and watering the plants while some simply study. Another group of students appear to have set up a small picnic in this lush arboretum.
Nearby, a male orcish student with pale green skin, brown hair, thick glasses, and pronounced tusks dressed in a Witherbloom uniform is seated next to a series of various potted plants. A wooden arch spanning above him, seemingly made from woven-together branches and vines, spells out the words "Fantastical Horticulture Society," and a message spelled out in dark flowers just beneath it reads, "Apply today!"
Arvol takes just a moment to look at the various plants and the potted plants being tended by the orcish student. While the arch is interesting, his attention soon turns back to their task. "So, the clue was we need to pat the leafy beds. Where should we pat?" He moves in among the plants, trying to find a likely candidate. (Perception: 18)
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
"Look for a leafy bed that is not what it seems, perhaps not leafy at all then?" Aelyn suggests to Arvol, but his mind is more set on finding beautiful flowers for beautiful people.
Perception: 17
"Is it allowed to pick some flowers in the name of beauty." He politely asks bespectacled orc.
Persuasion: 6