@AThousandCursesWINGRAM CLINIC
"Mmm? Well, let me see..."
As Chunji inquired at the reception desk, the dreary dark-ringed eyes of the receptionist scanned over files on the clinic's Adapa. He traced a line across with his finger, muttering, "Steeler, Steeler... Wund... ah, here we are," he would conclude, nodding and turning his attention back to Chunji.
"Chloe Steeler is still under observation - her wounds have healed, but campus security swung by for questioning. Even if that weren't the case, though, she's been asked to stay under close watch for the next hour to scan for any potential permanent damage to her prime essence as a result of her injuries. As for Davil Wund, it appears he's been approved for visitation, though with instructions to stay bedridden for the rest of the day."
Leaning forward in his seat, the receptionist would clasp his hands together and lean against them, head tilting to rest as he spoke dozily, asking, "Would you like to see Mr. Wund, then?"
Just then, an orcish individual would exit through the door in front to Chunji's left, dressed in a dark blue uniform with a matching cap and cape. His posture was iron and his gaze was ice, staring towards Chunji a moment with a look betraying suspicion. With a grunt and a tip of his hat, he'd withdraw a cigar from his breast pocket, a lighter from his pants' pocket, and light it, inhaling deeply while maintaining eye contact. After another moment savoring the devil's smoke, he'd exhale and briefly lift up the side of his cape to reveal a baton and a winged badge dangling around his belt, then begin walking towards the front entrance.
"Stay out of trouble. It's day two, and our logbook is already a novella," he would state as he pushed open the clinic doors and walked out, the trail of syrup-scented cigar smoke lingering behind.
"Y-You can't smoke in the... clinic... sir..." The receptionist would give up before continuing to speak, realizing that the man had already left by the time he'd worked up the courage to speak. With a frown, he'd turn back towards Chunji, turning the clinic's Adapa towards him.
"The previously mentioned campus security, Sir Lazris Toil. The head, at least, when mannekin won't satisfy. I'm afraid that even though it appears his questioning has concluded, Steeler will remain under isolated observation for a while."
The receptionist's hand would gesture towards the clinic's terminal now pointed towards Chunji. "But we can still allow you to see Wund, if you would like? Just sign in here, by placing your Adapa against the clinic's, as proof that you were here visiting at this time. Just walk through this door, and he'll be the last door on your right," the receptionist would gesture, pointing to the door that Lazris had walked out of.
@ERodeCLOTHIER DE HRUNTING
As Otis made his way into the campus town, a fabric store would indeed present itself. A building seemingly made of solidified velvet and denim almost seemed to announce itself, with its pretentious array of blues and purples upon its walls, and the three sentient flying carpets that circled its rooftop like vultures. A wolf mascot danced outside with a striking red scarf, trailing the air with its movements and briefly leaving behind runes in the air that would spell out statements such as, "Hrunting for your heart," or, "There's always a suit for you," before silently cheering and breakdancing. People seemed to mostly pass by the store regardless, attracting very few eyes to its presence. Was such a pretentious and loud store even here yesterday, in the plaza of the campus town? The neon sign that blinked and shone with attention-seeking intent, reading 'Clothier de Hrunting' would certainly be hard to forget.
Regardless, were Otis to enter, he would hear the jingle of a bell above him followed by what sounded like three women singing in harmony, "Clothiiiiing, Deer Huntinggggg~," trailing off from a speaker hooked up to the ceiling. The scent of overpowering perfume radiated through the shop, which consisted of many fine tapestries and display pieces all throughout. A goblin would peek his head out from behind a checkout desk on the other side, stretching to catch sight of Otis from over some cloaks and robes, his red sunglasses reflecting off of the sunlight peering in through the nearby windows.
"Oi, oi! Day finding you well, sport?"
The goblin would waddle out towards the Strigidae, dressed in a sleeveless trench coat that dragged along the floor, jean shorts, and yellow crocs. He'd look up at Otis with an iconic customer service smile reflecting off of his flame-patterned sunglasses, hands clasped together as he looked briefly to his left and right. "Anything I can help you with today?"
@EstylwenWINGRAM LIBRARY
As Ciara flipped to the page, she would briefly see references to the 'Shadow Hunt', a bloody time in the mid to late sixth century in which lycanthropy - a branch of Umbralism dedicated to the marriage and fusion between mortals and beasts from Kazaar's realm - was deemed heretical after repeated mass murders from werewolves and other such man-beast creatures forged through rituals. It was noted as the first point in history in which a branch of Umbralism was completely and utterly condemned even by fellow Umbralists, with all public information on the rituals of its practice purged, all practitioners and scholars of its use put to death without trial. The main character in this book appeared to be one of the hunters called to exterminate the practice of lycanthropy, but found himself conflicted upon falling in love with a werewolf girl struggling with her own murderous tendencies at the end of her life.
Regardless, Michael would see no problem with any of that, instead fully willing to move on to the more important subject of Ciara's book search.
"Primal, huh? Well, ya can't learn anythin' too crazy in a day regarding an entire quarter of magic's history," Michael would muse, scratching his head from overtop his hood. "But if ya want a few basics, I've got my recommendations. I ain't too good at magic, myself, but I think I've been around long enough to know what might help a beginner out."
He'd lead Ciara over to the back of the library's ground floor, though on the opposite side of Gulliver. Michael would gesture towards a sign that dangled in this quarter of the library that read 'Primal', then shrugged, muttering, "Somethin' about how primal magic always 'blooms in the northeast', or somethin', I dunno. They insisted that all primal studies and stories be compiled in the northeast corner as a result; still in alphabetical order, of course."
The hooded janitor would trot towards the 'T' section of the primal quarter, withdrawing a book titled, 'Tanglous', and handed it over to the shadow mage. Much of its color seemed faded from age, but it was a green paperback with a tree crudely carved on the front. "Here we have Tanglous, written by the Vaalin pixies of the fourth century. It details all kinds of stuff about the manipulation of vines and minor movement of trees... y'know, basic tree-hugging fey shit. Despicable little fuckers that'd decorate the trees with your guts over an unripe apple, but their stuff doesn't sound so threatening at first glance."
He'd point at the book, gesturing for it to be flipped. "Last chapter details the spell that has since been translated into the common tongue as 'Timber', in which you channel... I dunno, the belief of pixie dust or friendship or somethin' and you can summon a quickling tree - a tree that lives its entire life in six seconds, and only reaches about eight feet tall before tumbling over and crumbling into dust."
Michael's demeanor grew more uninterested by the second as he explained this, clearly doing this more for Ciara than for himself - a professional and objective scholar he was not. "Apart from that, some more minor spells in there would be 'Puff', that lets you breathe out an allergenic pollen that gives people the sniffles 'n watery eyes for a few seconds, or uh, 'Deep Breathing', to let you hold your breath longer. The fey mages in this book really just liked breathing, I guess. Breath out the bad, breathe in the good, conjure a tree because... trees let you breathe better or somethin', I dunno."
The janitor would begin walking back towards the checkout desk, but would turn on his heel one last time towards Ciara. "Hey, but don't let my indifference get in the way, I dunno the first thing about the primal discipline, compared to the greats. Who knows, ya might find something in there that I never saw."
