A Gathering at the Arcanist's

Garak steps into the central courtyard. There's subtle touches about the way he looks around, the way he looks beyond the building and at some of the more visible city landmarks, and even the way he looks over the other figures he sees. All seem to indicate...he's something of a stranger here.

Verna could be considered something of a stranger to the Arcanist Society grounds in the context of recent weeks. Now, through the gray day arrives a gray individual clad in gray cloak overtop gray robes. Her hood is donned despite the lack of precipitation as shield against the light breeze as she moves to cross the courtyard and towards the library.

Just as the sun greets a new day, some things return to normalcy. A pair of elegant half-elves come gliding into the society grounds, a splash of color against the gray of midday. Telamon escorting his wife, his arm hooked into hers, as he walks along, dressed in a brilliant deep blue tunic over white linen trousers, tucked into his boots. His eyes glint with starshine, though it's clear he's just happy to be with Cor'lana, and when he catches sight of Verna, he raises a hand to her in greeting.

Ravenstongue has partially disconnected.

Among the many objects scattered through the central courtyard is an arcane powered chess board. Peering intently at the pieces placed on the board is a small priestess of Navos. Squinting, the Goblin slides the white bishop across a diagonal, taking one of black's knights.

Simony peers up at the couple, as they walk by, and after a few moments, she falls into step behind them, padding along quietly. A notebook is pulled from a pocket on her robes, a pencil is soon likewise had, and quickly a sketch is underway.

Cor'lana walks with Telamon, smiling broadly at him and enjoying the closeness that they've regained in recent days. Her violet eyes are so caught on him, in fact, that she just narrowly avoids rolling her foot on a pebble that's in the way.

"I could have twisted my ankle and I don't think I would have cared any," Cor'lana confesses to Telamon with a grin. "Shall we visit our favorite bench...?"

And then she notices Verna, offering a wave to her sister-by-bond. "Verna!" she greets.

A raised voice draws Garak's attention, and he looks over. Soon he moves to join the small trio. He inclines his head as he approaches. "Greetings. Good to see you all again." He pauses and then adds with fingertips pressed to his chest, "Garak."

Amongst one of the pillars, a large shadow is cast. It would have not raised too many eyebrows perhaps on its own - but it was very singular in a courtyard devoid of them. Slowly, the shadow grows longer - before with a ripple of dark, it slides along towards the next feature. Or it would, if there was not a particular group starting to congregate together and have a pleasant discussion in the courtyard. Noon is always bad time for skulking, the shadowy corvid reminds himself, as Crik flattens himself.

Verna turns at the call of her name, then noting the raised hands. She alters her pace and course to provide intercept. "Telamon, Cor'lana. Good day to you both." Garak is spied by the approach and words, hood dipping to acknowledge. She does not appear immediately aware of either shadows nor sketchers. "What brings you to the Arcanist Society?"

Telamon easily stabilizes Lana, as she missteps. "Careful there," he teases. "Or you'll be riding back on the floating disk!" But he doesn't lose his smile, and nods. "We probably should." As Verna and Garak approach, he smiles at Verna genially. "Probably the same as you, sister. Research."

His eyes move past Simony -- stop and move back, and he offers the goblin a slight grin, before moving his stare to Garak. "It's been a while since the Mythwood and helping the Lady Luco'lann, hasn't it sir? A pleasure to see you again."

"Oh, you know the gentleman?" Cor'lana asks as she peers up at Telamon, before curtseying a little, sweeping out the skirt of her nice lavender dress while still holding onto Telamon's arm. "I'm afraid I didn't have the pleasure of meeting him when you did. My engagements in the Theatre District keep me busy."

Her violet eyes catch Simony, and she regards the symbol that is around the goblin's neck. Her eyes glint with something that is simultaneously dark and unreadable, despite her smiling face, before she looks back to Verna. "Research indeed," she replies. "As it is required of the world in which we live in these days."

Simony freezes the moment Tel spots her, and she grins back at the Half-Elf. She offers a bow from the hip to Telamon and Cor'lana. "Good morrow to you both. I trust this new day finds you both well?", she says quietly. She likewise offers a similar bow to Verna and Garak. The Goblin blinks at the Raven-haired woman's dark and unreadable look, the small woman taking a little step backwards.

"I could come back another time, if right now is not a good time."

Crik slowly peers around his hiding place. It was like a dark shadow turning to look at you, with dark beady eyes. He recognized plenty of figures - but mostly, his eyes were on Cor'lana. Slowly, he reaches into his pocket and with patient movement of his hand, pulls out...

... a peanut that he quietly tosses near towards the half-elven woman. And perhaps another, if the first one didn't have an effect.

Garak looks at Simony and then looks at each of the others in turn (except for Crik of course, who Garak has not noticed at all yet). "There should be no need," he begins, inclining her head to Simony in response to her earlier question. Then he points out, "You were here before any of us, if I'm not mistaken." He smiles, smaller yet at the same time a bit more genuine and less courteous than his expressions normally are. "I'd even guess that you spend more time here than any of us."

"Indeed," Verna confirms to the couple. "Study is ever of value. It is simply the subject that changes, oft due to events beyond our control." She then looks to Simony and Garak, and between them. "No one seeks to drive others elsewhere, to my knowledge. As well, as he states, you were present foremost," she offers to Simony. The arc of tossed small item is noticed and her hood pans to Crik and subsequently to the ground near Cor'lana. She is uncertain of precisely what until a second arrives. "Summoning is precluded within the city," she reminds.

Telamon smiles at Cor'lana. "Indeed! Master... Garak, yes. He was with us when I went to the Mythwood at the request of Lady Nuala, to help clear out some rather unpleasant rusalka. It went quite well, and the Lady and her handmaiden were pleased."

He raises an eyebrow at the thrown peanuts, looking a bit puzzled, before Lana's stare at Simony induces him to nudge her gently, before addressing the Navosian goblin. "Ah, Simony. A pleasure to see you again, and thank you for your efforts." He grants Simony with a broad, friendly smile.

Cor'lana has the social grace to look a little ashamed with the nudge--and now that she is looking at Simony for longer than a glance, it's apparent the emotion that was in her violet eyes was something like sorrow. "My apologies," she says. "I have a complicated history with your Historian. That need not extend to you, however, as you appear to be already acquainted with my husband."

She curtsies again. "I am called Cor'lana Lupecyll-Atlon," she says--

But any introductions are interrupted by the sudden swoop of a white-feathered form from the sky. "SNACKS!" crows Pothy, who dives down for the peanuts and then glides with them in his mouth onto Cor'lana's shoulder. The white-feathered raven looks rather pleased with himself as Cor'lana takes the peanut from his beak, holding it out for him.

"And this is Pothy, but half the city knows him," she says. Pothy takes the peanut and cracks it open, his bright blue eyes bright and happy.

The Goblin's eyes flick between Tel and Cor, her expression brightening. "I am pleased to have been able to lend my efforts towards the recovery of your family's property.", she says softly. Simony looks to Cor'lana then, offering a small nod. "It is alright, His story is a long and winding road. Please accept my sympathies for being ... entangled in that road. Well met.."

Simony gives a start at the loud cry for snacks, staring at the Raven in surprise. "Pothy?" She blinks a few times, and then giggles.

Sighing lightly, she offers a shrug. "It matters not whom was here first, only that if it is not the right time, then it is not the right time. I may go, if it please you, to research and study. If I am still welcome, I may stay."

"Snaaaacks..." A low voice responds to Pothy's cry, followed by a low croaking sound; almost as if there was particularly large crow nearby like. Like Crik. Floofing up his tail and wings he steps around the pillar and he cannot resist the urge to look at Pothy in what appears to be in amusement.

"It may be prohibited, but you cannot stop the wings of snacks." Wait, he was supposed to be hiding. Staring blankly at nobody in particularly, he then looks at the others in turn. A brief click leaves his throat, before he flatly states, "Studies."

"Not all summoning," Verna adds as Apotheosis appears. Perhaps no magic, whether wielded by mortal or deity alike, can overcome the power of SNACKS. "On the matter of study, I should acquire an appropriate room within the library, as well as locate my research partner. If you would excuse me for a time." She dips her hood in a polite nod to all before turning to resume her path to the library.

Garak turns his head to follow the sound of Crik's voice. His gaze shifts briefly to the pillar. And then a few other similar pillars. Then back to Crik. Perhaps all the talk of studying and research, has inspired Garak as he seems to be learning as well. "I wonder if things are any different now in Mythwood," he says, apparently picking up that one particular thread of conversation. "I haven't been there in weeks, nor heard any news."

Telamon lifts his eyebrows. "The Mythwood stands, sir," he addresses Garak. "The talks continue. There are threats to be faced, but heroes to face them." He smiles slightly. "Caution may be the order of the day at times, but not fear."

He looks at Simony and nods. "It is all right, Simony. Though... some things can be very personal, like faith. It's not your fault. Please, be at ease, and remain. You're clearly here to do something important."

As Pothy soars down, collects his tribute, and alights on Lana's shoulder, Tel quips, "Unlike some I can mention. Doesn't take much to bring you back down, does it, little brother?" He reaches over to scritch Pothy's head.

Pothy accepts Telamon's stroking with the happy up-and-down wagging of his tail-feathers. "Brother," he mimics back to Telamon in his voice, before he then regards Simony in particular for a long moment.

Which is how the bird ends up flying over to Simony and taking up residence on _her_ shoulder. "Navos!" Pothy says reverently in a deep voice, and it seems for just a few seconds that his eyes are brighter. He looks pointedly at Cor'lana for a moment, like he's compelling her to speak, before he looks at Crik. "Snacks."

It appears Pothy has made his demands clear. Cor'lana, in the meantime, sighs a little. "It's not your fault at all," she says, offering Simony a little smile. "My life has simply been... complicated in general. But I look ahead to brighter futures for all--such as the alliance with the Mythwood."

The Goblin puts her hands together and bows deeply once more at Tel, looking surprised as the bird lands on her shoulder as she straightens. Her eyes widen to almost saucers as he speaks her Patron's name. "A curious and wonderful bird.", she says softly, reverently. Simony nods to Cor'lana. "I am hoping, too, for brighter things ahead. It has been one rocky path we have all been walking."

She starts searching her pockets, and sighs lightly. "I am afraid I have no snacks this day, Pothy. Find me again tomorrow and I shall have a little treat for you." Her grin is quick and broad, with a few teeth poking out.

"Our Gnomish friend mentioned a study group.", the Gobbo says, softly.

Crik looks between the group of people that are discussing, tilting his head sideways as he looks back at Pothy. Simony. Telamon. Cor'lana. Garak. Back to Pothy. There's a faint 'crack' and then without nearly a hand movement, he flicks the other treat at the Goblin's shoulder. "Snaaaacks." He responds in his deep baritone voice, stretching the word out.

And then with a brief flutter of wings, the hunched corvid is gone. Well, not exactly gone - just making a quick getaway across the courtyard.

Telamon stares bemusedly after Crik, before turning his gaze back to Simony and Lana. "...Hm. Well, we know about rocky roads and hard paths, Simony. Take heart; some times things are bad, but they're not as bad as they seem -- and they're easier if you have friends to help." He gives Lana's hand a squeeze.

"Magpie? Doesn't surprise me. We're trying to gather more information about the lycanthropes and the minions of the Hound. We've actually collected a fair amount, but..." He sighs, then squares his shoulders. "It's difficult. These creatures don't exactly advertise. Terribly rude of them."

Cor'lana stills a little with the mention of lycanthropes, the smile fading from her face. "It's true," she replies to her husband. "And yet that means we ought to find and join this 'study group', I think, Telamon. I have information that would be helpful."

Her violet eyes fall onto Pothy, who has been denied snacks from Simony. But the bird seems quite happy to be on the shoulder of a Navosian cleric. "He is a wonderful bird, it's true," Cor'lana says, the small smile finding her mouth again. "He is fond of those who serve the Historian--all divine servants, really, but he, too, is charged with Knowledge in his own way."

"Snacks," Pothy says. Like he's elaborating on what sort of knowledge.

Garak also looks after Crik in confusion. Then he turns back and nods in agreement. "You are not wrong. It's one thing to see an enemy, be it an army or a monster or some destructive force. But when the enemy employs secrecy." He shakes his head. "When their very nature is one of transformation, of showing a different face and only revealing their true self when it is to their advantage..."

"I would offer my friendship then, as well as assistance in reading through histories, annuals, guides and other tomes that may shed some light on the opponents we face.", Simony says in reply to Telamon. "As for advertising, it is likely they are, we're just not their target audience. For all we know, they could be marking territory the way normal wolves do. There's information in that, just, we don't know what 'Hey, come join us, free food, and stick it to Alexandria too' smells like."

The Gobbo nods to Cor'lana then. "I suspect that Magpie will likely contact you, if she hasn't already. It's an assumption on my part, that you know her well enough that she would reach out to you." The bird is eyed once more, and Simony cannot help but smile again. "He's welcome to ride on my shoulder, should he continue to choose to. I reside at the Navosian monastery up the mountain, if one wishes to seek me out."

The Gobbo nods to Garak, with a faint smile. "Yes, tracking them is difficult. However, we too can do such things, and make it very hard for them to target us. There are magics, are there not, for disguising one's clothing, face, personal smell and so on?"

"Any willing hand is welcome in these times," Telamon says firmly. "I know you're trustworthy -- your choice in companions speaks highly of you as well." He furrows his brow, pondering the question. "I think we should meet with Magpie first, so we're not stepping on each other or going over already-treaded ground. Easy to do when you're trying this sort of thing. She may have specific tasks in mind."

At Pothy's clear happiness at making a new friend, he chuckles. "Take care, Simony. This is a bird that dearly loves his culinary pursuits. He's practically a minor celebrity in his own right among the food-sellers in the trade districts." He pauses. "You know, I wonder, Pothy, was there ever a food you -didn't- like to eat?"

Tel nods sourly to Garak. "We've seen that. Fiends hiding in other forms. They -love- to go around as wandering lucht, because, well, nobody ever thinks twice about a lucht on the move."

Garak listens. He nods at certain words and seems to consider others that catch his interest. Then something seems to shift and he glances around the courtyard. "It seems this is as good a place to catch up on news and excange information than any other. I expected...well I don't know quite what I expected here," Garak admits. "But I could have had just such a discussion in the square at the Temple district, or outside of the stables. Or even in Golbintown."

"We will await the invitation," Cor'lana agrees with Telamon. "Lest we end up walking down roads that need not be walked."

She looks to Garak and, well, a small smile plays across her face. "In truth? This is where my husband and I first met," she says, and then she points in the direction of a bench further into the courtyard. "That bench is actually where I confessed my feelings to him for the first time. One day we'll buy a plaque for that bench, I think--just to ensure it never goes away. So, it's a good place for more than just information."

Pothy, meanwhile, stares at Telamon. "Not really," he replies, mimicking Cor'lana's voice. Implying the existence of food that Pothy _won't_ eat.

Simony nods to Tel, "Yes, a good idea. I am just excited, and do not have the fullest extent of knowledge on the subject." She offers a nod, and then chuckles. "I don't think I will mind. He would be a welcome visitor, as he would bring... levity to my studies and meditation."

The Gobbo eyes the bench up ahead, and grins. "You should make the plaque, and get a new bench. Steal that one, and replace it with a new one. Then you can preserve it, the Society is none the wiser, and everyone knows where you confessed."

Simony eyes Garak a moment. "It's probably better to have it in a more private a place."

Telamon blinks slowly at Simony's suggestion. Opens his mouth. Closes it again. "Ah... tell you what, I'll keep that in mind." He smiles at Lana. "We do have a little history here, don't we? Funny how things work out."

"In any case, I'm afraid there's work to be done, and..." Tel pauses as he catches sight of someone stepping out of the library, one of the proctors from the university. "...and there's someone I need to talk to. Simony, Garak, was good to see you again. Lana, feel free to catch up -- assuming you don't chase me down." His eyes twinkle merrily, as the half-elven sorcerer heads off jauntily.

"Perhaps," Garak replies to Simony. "But my instincts...and my nature perhaps, say otherwise...the more people that know a secret, the less harm the secret - and those who try to keep them secret - can cause." He blinks and smiles. "But then again, my nature, is that of a priest. One whose words are meant to provide advice and guidance. In other words..." Garak's smile, or perhaps his tone, becomes somehow self-deprecating, "...to lecture. My apologies."

Pothy lifts up from Simony's shoulder and rejoins his sorceress on her shoulder. The white-feathered raven nuzzles into Cor'lana's hair, and she smiles for his affection. "I ought to catch up with my husband," she says apologetically to Garak and Simony both. "Simony, perhaps I will see you later at this study group of Magpie's."

She steps off to follow her husband in his footsteps. "I can and will, my starborn king!" Cor'lana calls after Telamon, and this time, she doesn't trip over a pebble along the way. <Sylvan>

The Goblin offers a wave to the retreating Telamon, Cor'lana and Pothy. She grins lightly and looks to Garak. "I don't know if it will do less harm, but the more people who know a secret, the higher the chance that the secret will become not-a-secret." She shrugs lightly. "I do not mind a lecture, I have received many in my time, both ones I purposefully attended, and ones that were inflicted upon me."

Garak chuckles. He looks around again, and then gestures. It's with both hands, and arms, a wave that encompasses the surrounding area. Nature of a priest, after all. "And do you receive such lectures here? In matters of arcane magic?" He looks at Simony curiously. "Do you ever provide any such lectures?"

Simony laughs and shakes her head. "No, I only practice divine magics, currently. So I don't take lectures on that particular range of topics." Her head shakes again. "I am no where near experienced enough to offer lectures."

Garak's eyebrows twitch up at the words 'currently'. "I see," he glances around again. Then he seems to focus on the library. "Do you know much about this study group that was mentioned earlier?"

Simony shrugs in reply, "I am only a messenger." Rubbing at her face, she gestures. "I am just a wee priestess. I frequent the library here, as well as the city's one. What of you, do you know Telamon and Cor'lana well?"

Garak shakes his head. "Well, Telamon, maybe. The quest in the Mythwood, as he said." Garak shrugs. "A quest, perhaps I should say. One of many, although I've only been on a few, and only once with him." Garak tilts his head, thinking. "I may have seen both of them at the adventurer's guild. Or at Verna's abode, she has called together adventurers to share information and make plans for dealing with the 'followers of the Hound'."

Simony smiles faintly, and nods. "They are both relatively new friends to me. I do not recall meeting Verna before, but I /think/ she is a sister?" The Gobbo shrugs her shoulders. "So what about you, then? One of Serriel's adherents, or just a warrior who favours her?"

"I am a cleric of Serriel," Garak affirms. "Which makes me both a warrior and also a practitioner of divine magic," he muses. Then he adds, "And Verna is a cleric and follower of Vardama, but she also casts arcane spells." He hesitates and then admits, "Although I have no idea how she managed to become such. Or how common it is to be so skilled in both."

As Apotheosis previously discounted Verna's statement on 'mundane' summons, it appears that this holds true once more. By mention of her name, perhaps, Verna has emerged from the Arcanist library and, noting some of the prior group yet present, moves to approach.

"Well, if you learn the script, have the right components and can twist your fingers into the contorted shapes needed, you can probably cast arcane spells. It would serve you well to get master to teach you, messing up magical spells can have really horrific side effects." The Goblin offers Verna a wave as she approaches.

"Yes but the 'learning' of the script seems to be harder for some than others." Garak muses. "And perhaps something of a secret, judging by the value I've seen placed on spell 'books' and scrolls. And some spells require components which are consumed in the casting," he notes. Then he adds, "And which also range from the mundane and commonplace, to the exotic." He shrugs. "But your point is well made. The guidance of one more experienced, with spellcasting and with teaching, would no doubt be invaluable."

That the current topic is upon the manipulation of mana is entirely unsurprising given the setting: such is a commonplace here as the general concept of 'research.' Yet, Verna's interest is mildly piqued. "Knowledge should not be secreted away, but shared... yet potentially regulated for the safety and well-being of all, dependent on the topic," she opines, in general. "The utilization of mana can fall under that purview in some instances."

Simony smiles at Garak, "You have probably seen at least /some/ combat, I would hazard a guess. The fact that you are still alive means you are bright enough to learn that script. I know not of your parental lineage, but perhaps you are lucky enough to have magic in your blood, then magic will come naturally. A mentor would be helpful there, also. That's the extent of my knowledge where arcane magic is concerned... small pieces of encyclopedic knowledge."

Simony offers Verna a deep bow. "No, I think there is some magics that should be hidden away. Often we mortal races cannot be trusted with certain powerful magics."

Garak's eyebrows go up again. "Regulated? Arcane magic...regulated. That's...that is a fascinating thought. How would you say magics should be regulated? And by whom?"

"The use of such is already regulated by law," Verna notes. "The creation of undead, for example, is outlawed, as such should be. To that end, the knowledge of the same is likewise restricted. Mana is a tool and carries no will of its own. All falls upon the wielder. It is no different that any other tool, and any tool with no demonstrable justifiable use would be scrutinized and possibly restricted."

The Gobbo nods to Verna. "Yes, it is a tool, and so easily abused at times. But not as hard to regulate as you might expect." She glances at Garak, "For example, the city does have a ward over it which prevents summoning of creatures, and use teleportation magics, inside its walls. One way to regulate magic that seems to work well."

Garak doesn't seem convinced. But he seems to remember another topic he was curious about, and chooses to shift to it now: "What about the creation of objects of power? Enchanting weapons, or perhaps adding magical effects to a ring or boots. Is that a skill that is taught here?"

Verna considers the inquiry. "The most recent curriculum of which I am aware included a number of instructors trained in the enchantment of various items. I presume that most or all remain present. Further, there are those among the general membership with such skills, as well. Some may be inclined to offer apprenticeship or instruction." She dips her hood to Simony. "The wards are a prudent measure, regrettably necessitated by past events."

Simony nods at what Verna says, on all points. "While I do not know of any personally, I would expect there are a number of magically inclined around at any one time that can provide such a service in return for coin." To Verna, she says, "Sadly, one apple can spoil the whole bushel. Perhaps, over time, it can be reviewed, but I suspect with the things going on in the Felwood, and news of something rampaging through the forests nearby, that ward is staying up for some time.