RP: Library Scrivening
It's Kesenday, Hattanani 20 18:34:56 1018. The full moon isn't up. The tide is low and slack. Fair weather clouds sail across the blue sky, propelled by light breezes from the west. It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and the air is clear and dry.
A14: Quill's Repose, City Library
Raniq is sitting at a table, a valuable leather book laying open in front of him, surrounded on three sides by the necessary tools of scribal pursuits. He is writing in the book, and frequently referring to the open scroll. A snowy white ermine is crouched across his shoulders, keeping watch.
It is a bright day, one of blue skies, fair clouds and cool breezes... however this bastion of knowledge is defended against such, and instead focuses upon worlds within to compensate. At one of the old wooden study tables inside the library main sits a scholar of sorts, a large quill held in hand to approve a parchment as he pores through a tome of esoteric leanings, the dark skinned foreigner accompanied by naught but a hovering globe of light.
As the young Eldanar writes more in his book, the words on the scroll gradually vanish. Finally, the transcription accomplished, he looks up and inspects his work. After a moment, he seems satisfied and says to the animal by his head, "Okay, Herman. That looks like a job done, then. How about you hop off for a moment while I clean these things up?" The ermine stands, and stretches like a cat as it begins to walk along the wizard's arm towards the table, where it stands on all fours, carefully avoiding the ink bottle.
Some movement from the next table over causes the Cerenzan scholar's sporadic scrivenings to pause mid-scratch, his head rising fractionally to observe the Eldanar and his ermine, the dark-skinned hand splayed out upon the pages hesitation their downward march across the text he is studying, "An arcanist?" he inquires, his deep voice low yet avoiding being a whisper... for devotees of a page know that whispers carry further.
Raniq is nearly finished packing his things away when the Cerenzan at the next table barely utters a couple words. It is enough for him to realized that the question is directed to him, and he looks over at the questioner. Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he reaches out to take the ermine into his arms as he smiles at his neighbor. He replies, just as quietly, "Guilty as charged, sir. If you'll let me beg your pardon, I believe we've met before, possibly on a job for the Adventurer's Guild, but I can't seem to recall your name." Approaching the next seat at the Cerenzan's table, he reaches out a hand and says, "Raniq, sometimes called Fairhair, at your service. And this is Herman." He indicates the animal.
Inclining his head graciously, the tan-robed Cerenzan takes up your hand firmly before making his reply. Returning the quill in his other hand to the well that is its home, of course. "Well met, Raniq. In these lands I go by the name of Landau, but in Tashraan my family called me Alim." His mouth quirks self-deprecatingly, "I had considered a familiar of mine own but decided I did not have the time to care for one. No slight against Herman, of course." A low chuckle rumbles forth, and he stretches slightly in his seat, shifting position to avert some of the deprivations of hours being seated and takes a long slow breath in before he speaks again, "Hmmm, I do think this is our first time in meeting, if we have it escapes me. So what academia caught your interest this day?"
Raniq seats himself, and smirks at Landau's final question. He says, "Well, I suppose you could call it academia, but really I was merely copying a spell into my book. It causes the target of the spell, and only the target of the spell, to experience an ear-piercing scream. It doesn't seem as good a spell as others, but I am something of a specialist when it comes to evocations. So, when the chance came along, I decided to add it to my collection. What about you, sir? What has captured your interest today?"
The scholar's subdued smile shows white teeth, and he nods at the description of the spell before his own reply, "Something that took my interest many years ago. The nature of magic itself. I have been undertaking religious studies under the church of Eluna and have devoted my life to enlightenment towards that end, and the relationship between the divine and arcane traditions of casting." His eyebrows rise somewhat as he ventures into topics within his own point of obsession. "I have but recently started to practice arcane techniques, and am turning my efforts toward refining my practice of this."
Raniq nods. "Well, to me, it seems to come down to this: those with keen intellects seem to do better at the study of the arcane, while those with innate wisdom seem better able to tap the power of the gods. Then there are sorcerers, witches, and a smattering of others that seem able to come by it by sheer personal talent. One thing I don't get at all though is how bunch of people manage to construct semi-magical machines. I mean, it's rather different from how wizards charm an object to imbue it with magical properties. I just don't get it, and frankly, don't care to very much, but raw eldritch energy? Now that's right up my alley."
Raw energy has its fine qualities, and that's also something I'll be looking into as well as the interaction with physical bodies." Landau waves a hand, as if this is a logical extension of his interest. "It will be a lifetime thesis, I believe, but with tangible results." This last is said purposefully, and he looks down onto the pages he was poring over before, "but let me not hold you up on that account, were you not going somewhere having a place to be, hmm?" He looks up again, the whites of his eyes seen once more as he looks up from his task.
Raniq rises. "I did, indeed. Off to a supper at home, then I plan to stop by the Temple for a chance to gaze into the reflecting pool. Well, it was nice to meet you, sir. May the White Disk shine upon the knowledge you seek." He bows, and heads out.