Dragon City Ornuel - College of Ornuel
"And finally,
On the Subject of Arctic Golemns and Their Properties," stated a tall young man of fiery red hair and dreary air. The man placed a partially shredded book atop an already intimidating tower of paper, further stressing the arms of its carrier. Carinna Rogald stood behind the wall of literature, brown hair peeking out from its pages and up to the man who had laid them in her possession. His tired expression and look of annoyance silenced Carinna before she could even complain; he certainly looked as if he greatly despised having to venture through the immense library, and so further pleading for him to help her transport the books to a place she could rest seemed too much to ask for.
Pathetically, Carinna struggled to give thanks before Macky Smolg turned face, his black coat catching the air, and walked off into the dimness of the Ornuel College library. Without aid, Carinna took step by careful step towards the nearest table, and set the books down with a world-ending thump. Catching her breath, she slid herself into a seat on wobbling legs and rolled her shoulders. The task laid out before her was off-putting, but a quick glance to the open-air window had reminded her of why she had set out to do it. Crackles and dances of fire upon the ridge of the window were reminiscent of the many festivals she had attended, and so Carinna could recall that her master, the one and only Arch-Mage Helen of Raphae, had herself gone out to participate in such festivities, leaving Carinna on her own. All too often, she was left with the aggravating reminder that her master was a child at heart -even younger than she- and so failed to properly educate her in the ways of magic. Thus, she was left to study on her own as best she could, utilizing what resources she could to facilitate the long journey towards mastery.
But if Helen could only have achieved such control with time on her side, how could she, when her life was just as fleeting as any other man's? Scanning over the archaic words upon the books before her, Carinna sighed and let her head fall into her crossed arms on the table. Her eyes traced over the candle that flickered at the corner, suddenly entranced and mindless by its properties. For a time, she was so focused that not even the beating of heavy wings in the libraries endless floors could distract her.
"Something seems to be troubling you, child," called out a gruff, elderly, but undeniably powerful voice. The whole floor shook as the speaker's body caught the stone edges of the floor above Carinna. Looking up, the apprentice found herself faced with the enormity of a lithe draconic body holding itself high above. The elder dragon gripped wooden railings on the second floor with its hind legs, and kept its upper body held aloft across the open air, hanging onto the other end of the floor's rails. With a serpentine neck, Molkrath weaved his head down to Carinna's side, staring at her tiny body with faded emerald eyes. Patches of white in them reflected the age that he sported, but Carinna remained no less in awe. "Tired, perhaps?"
Carinna returned her head back to the comfort of her arms, burying her chin down into the cloth of her robes till her nose disappeared. "No, I'm just..." she paused, feeling slightly that her plight would only pass off as a worthless triviality to Molkrath, "I'm just feeling a bit disconnected."
"From?" he replied inquisitively.
Carinna reared her head up and began to speak accusingly, as if her opinion suddenly were all the more strongly held. "From Helen! She is always dismissing me, going off and making a mockery of magic and herself! If she didn't want to take up an apprentice...!" she yelled. Molkrath let go of his grip from the upper floor and slinked down to the floor with a thump. resting upon his soft underbelly, he grumbled something as if to clear his throat and began,
"I am partially to blame for that, I suppose," he chuckled low, audibly dislodging some fluid from his throat. Carinna looked up to his eyes worriedly, as if she had indirectly complained about Molkrath himself. "I put her up to the task, knowing well that my time here is diminishing. If we lose our most powerful source of magic before the appearance of another, we may not be able to claim such pride any longer."
"Then she is irresponsible towards her country!" Carinna proclaimed.
"I believe her reasons are far more complicated than that, young one," Molkrath attempted to calm her.
"What do you mean?"
"Mmm," he mumbled, turning towards the largest window in the room, large enough for him to beat his wings through, "I do not believe I am at liberty to say. Her life is for her to lead, ultimately, and I do not blame her for her decisions, though I dearly hope every night that she change her ways." Carinna grunted and returned her face to the table's surface. Molkrath tightened his lips and coughed a few times, his eyes trained on Carinna's depressing form. Leaning his head down to her side, but a few feet from her ears, he spoke in whispers.
"If I explain to you, you must not tell anyone else. This is from me to you, and for your ears alone," Molkrath conspired. Carinna's eyes lit up and grinned, as if hearing a dragon gossip was the most laughable thing in Raphae. Carinna nodded her head and looked about the library, checking to see of Macky had entered again at any point. Molkrath inched his body closer to Carinna so his neck wasn't so extended, and let loose. "Helen is a tragic character, and I fear for her sanity in coming days. Before her experiments, she was just like you, Carinna. Hopeful, bright-eyed, and still very unskilled," Carinna would have glared, but she knew that it was the truth, "she too felt she was not progressing at a proper pace, but for entirely different reasons. Many a times she had come to me, worrying over every little spell she could not replicate, cursing
me for having the time to do anything I wanted. I can't tell you how many times she said that she had given up." Molkrath's voice became soft, nostalgic, reflective.
"She resolved to change that, of course, and you see the results today," Carinna nodded, "and still she regrets it." Carinna looked at Molkrath with a look of suspicion, as if he were trying to deceive her. "It is true, without a doubt. She has confided in me this, with plain language and teary eyes. I know for certain that you do not understand the gravity of immortality, especially upon being stuck at such an age as hers. Being a child for so many years, one never seems to garner that respect that adults always expect. Her expectations for changes in her life are never met."
"And as the years pass, things grow more and more bleak. Friends passing, times changing with a slowed ability to adapt to them. I am simply left to assume that Helen spends her days hedonistically, trying to siphon as much joy from life as she can before..." Molkrath trailed off. Carinna had since become much more solemn and subdued, no longer emanating that spiteful air she had earlier.
"Before what?" she pressed. Molkrath shook his head grumbled a bit, lifting his body from the ground. Stretching his wings, he clearly conveyed a desire to leave, prompting Carinna to rise from her seat, as if she could run to his trunk-like legs and hold him in place.
"Mmm, I must be on my young one. Much to do, I believe, if my old memory serves me properly," without further word, Molkrath nodded dismissively to Carinna and thrust his wings towards the ground, lifting his massive body up and through the titanic window built specifically for him. Carinna shook her fist as the books around her fluttered past countless pages in the gust. Dejectedly, she spoke to herself.
"This still doesn't solve any problems!"
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Tamruel - Central Market
Festival of ArchaesA host of armored bodies drifted effortlessly through the market crowd, as their immense numbers instinctively stepped aside for them to pass. The scene was a chaotic wave of human and celestine bodies huddled about a central area, obscured by their sheer numbers. Whispers weaved through the spaces in between, and the military figures easily caught a mass of them with their metallic grip.
Human snakes!All the way from the desert?What is a desert of bones, anyways?They forge such beautiful wares!Closer and closer the guards made their way to the center, quelling but a fraction of the commotion they walked upon. At the helm, a celestine walked with arms crossed at his back, commanding an air of honor and service that the people could not stand before. Three others walked just behind him, equally as armored in extravagant and grandiose metal plate armor, faces obscured by helms bearing the trademark platinum wings of high-ranking military officials. All at once, the reason behind the gathering had become clear when the guards found themselves at the inner circle of the market.
A pair of unfamiliar creatures sat in chairs at the edge of an outdoors tavern, striking up conversation with a large swathe of curious Raphae citizens. The barmaids showered drink and food upon the serpentine entities, as if they were gods in the flesh. Truly though, it was understandable; guests from outside the country were always treated with a profound respect, especially during any particularly notable festival.
Emrir Sahan, General of the Raphae army, happened upon the coastal city of Tamruel as a participant and peace-keeper of the annual Festival of Archaes, and when he and his closest men had heard that strange visitors from far off lands had made their way into the city, he was instantly intrigued. From the books he had read in his youth, the beings instantly reminded him of so-called Naga; snake-like intelligent entities with arms and legs just like man and celestine. He approached the two Naga at their tables proudly, and it appeared as though they noticed his approach, and reacted with caution. He was left to assume they thought him a policeman there to arrest him simply on the basis of racism.
Instead, Emrir extended a hand to shake and greeted the Nagas. "Welcome travellers, to the city of Tamruel. I see you both are enjoying yourselves. From whence have you come to our beautiful nation?" The Nagas shook his hand in turn slowly, surprised by his hospitality. One responded after drinking down a gulp of wine. Their accents were clear, and featured a distinct hiss that made them altogether snake-like.
"Yes sir, your foods and drink are of particular worth, we must say. How readily your people have welcomed us in comes as a surprise as well. Few other nations would treat us with such respect," he happily claimed, "I and my partner here are part of a trading caravan from the south, as far as the sands of the Desert of Bones can go. For many days we have walked along the coast of the Great Land, meeting other nations. Yours is the furthest north we shall have gone."
"I have heard that your kind has brought many interesting things to our market," Emrir noted, "but one object in particular we have heard of is a fantastic map detailing a number of other nations along the Great Land's western coast. Perchance, do you have such a map in your possession?" The Naga nodded after another drink, though his partner spoke up in place.
"That we do, many copies in fact. Our people pride themselves in how expediently we can procure maps of other lands beyond our own," the Naga fished around in a pocket of his, then in one of the many tied satchels sitting beside him. Bringing out a parchment, he revealed it to Emrir openly, who promptly received it and began to survey the detail fervently. A guard behind him responded with his own trade, bringing out a large coin purse that singled heavily. Without a word, he placed it upon the Naga's table, who looked at it surprisingly. "You are quite generous," the Naga stated, weighing the purse.
"It is not often that we have access to such important things, traveler. Consider this a gift for you to use during our festival, and enjoy yourselves," Emrir stated, still looking over the map. The Naga nodded and returned to the crowd, recalling fantastic tales to their intrigued listeners. Emrir and his entourage turned back and walked from the crowd with haste.
"A certain Namare and Lothmor are listed upon this map, all along the coast to the south. The Queen will surely wish to send invitations for them."
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