RP-Monastic Archives
It's Ceriday, Callem 27 16:12:59 1018. The full moon isn't up. The tide is high and slack. Everything is pale grey, veiled by mist. It's warm, humid, and still.
H06: Fate's Spire, Monastery
The monastery is not so quiet right now.
Sixteen monks practice martial forms here, clad in the blue and bronze of the Timekeeper. Well technically fifteen monks and a cleric, as one in the robes and tabard of a Temperance works among them. It has been quite some time since he was amongst his brothers and sisters properly, and Jacob figured this would be a good way to bond.
Certainly, it makes for an interesting sight as they practice forms together. Jacob seemed to fit right in as he moved in tandem with the others...
A griffon flies into another, emptier part of the courtyard, taking a few turns around the Spire as he descends to his graceful landing. Riding him is a Sylvanori clad in fine mithral armor. He alights from the beast as soon as it stops.
"Visitor!"
It doesn't take long before the collective host find a stopping point, almost in sync.
Almost. Jacob is a half-step behind. He makes his best effort at not letting the slight wince show.
The monks and cleric bow to one another as they call for a break, and the Temperance joins two of his brothers in meeting the arrival. "Welcome!" Jacob grins as if someone were just coming home instead of just coming in. "Wasn't expecting guests today."
Ga'Elian looks around for a moment, then as the Temperance addresses him bows and says, "I thank thee, sir. Should I have sent word ahead?" he asks.
Jacob shakes his head. "On the contrary! I didn't send word ahead when I said I'd be studying here, and lo and behold, they welcomed me all the same." He takes two more steps forward. "Jacob Tennyson. Your name, sir?"
Ga'Elian smiles then continues, "I am Ga'Elian Faravanilas, a hunter and warden of the Wilds. Of late, however, I have taken a particular interest in hunting the fiends of hell and the daemons of the Void. My purpose in visiting this place is toward that end. Methinks that the monks here store records that may shed greater light upon the foul monsters and how to more effectively combat them. For this information I come to seek."
Jacob nods. "Well then, you have indeed come to the right place! This way then." He turns toward the other monks, excuses himself with a bow, and heads toward the records hall. "I can see you have a companion as well. Riding a creature such as that must be exciting! I want to hear all about it, ser Faravanilas." He tilted his head to the right. "Did I get that right?"
Ga'Elian smiles. "Thou saidst it properly, yea, but Faravanilas is the name of my tribe. Properly 'tis the Chief only who is addressed thus. Ga'Elian is my personal name, but some call me Elian in casual reference, which is just fine.
"The griffon is Erithamiel, known by some as Silverbeak and to others as Ironclaws, both owing to the essence bonding he hath received from the Ygdrassil Union.
"I do appreciate thy willingness to assist. If the archives have relevant writings in Yrch-speak, Sildanyari, Sylvan, Infernal, Abyssal, or (of course) Tradespeak, I shall not require the assistance of an interpreter."
Jacob nods. "Well then Elian, let's get moving! I'm certain there is something here to be had."
It isn't long before they reach the room in question. If a library of this size were to be called modest, then one would wonder what a good one would be like. Shelves line the walls, monks quietly working to keep them organized. Jake takes in a breath as he enters and sighs, almost as if content. "This place is the repository for some of the oldest works known to mankind. If there is anywhere you would find what you are looking for, it's here."
Ga'Elian says, "Wonderful." He gazes at the room, taking in the majesty and orderliness of the collection. He remarks, "If this hall had been hewn from the rock, I should not have known it from the great library of Dun Mordren."