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View character profile for: Gareth
View character profile for: Enanth Stormcrow
((Dalen Archives, 2 YSTR))
With a steady hand, Enanth slid Curious Beasts And Where to Find Them Vol IV into its rightful place amongst the rest. It was late in the day, sun pouring through at angle through the skylights to illuminate the shelves. Many a librarian had espoused pride in the knowledge collected here and many more still added to it. He was no different, already penned one or two of the tomes here.
He climbed down the sliding ladder with a practice speed. Another book, another shelving. This one was straight from the lands of Karavoss, a rarity in this land. Its leaf-bound pages crinkled with age as it slid into its place. Down again he went.
Another mage was near, levitating the books that needed to be sorted into their proper place. He kept looking over with exasperation to Enanth as the two worked. The older wizard knew what his view was of him: a mage who chose to not use the power granted to him by hard years of learning to accomplish this long and exhausting task. Enanth did not mind this though. It was always a reminder that he was human and that such tasks could be done with the same effort as a spell.
"Old man, why do you torture yourself?" The young one asked.
"I was unaware this was a dungeon, master wizard," Enanth spoke with a gentle, bemused voice. "I suppose these shelves are racks, and the cuts from parchment the torturer's tools."
The young man gave an exasperated sigh before sweeping away with his robes, a pile of books floating three feet from the ground. Enanth gave a laugh in near silence as he climbed once more. Young ones would never understand his methods. They often were too wrapped up in their own wants and worries.
A sudden tone rang through his head. He stopped, book half onto its place. He looked down the aisle to the back, the sight of the restricted section out of his. The mage finished his task before sliding down deftly. With a purposeful stride, he made his way to the back. He knew that the wards were laid thick in to not just lock but the door and walls around it. These had been placed over the years, overlapping and interweaving. And these were enough to dissuade most inquisitive or foolhardy younger mages that lacked the training to control what strong knowledge that lay within the restricted zone.
I must admit, even this generation has proven more adept at getting in trouble, he thought. Perhaps these dweomers need to be re-Woven.
He found the door, closed but open. The lock lay upon the ground sundered. Enanth stared only for a moment before looking back to the door. The enchantment in the lock was a strong one, not easily dispelled and even harder to destroy physically.
Carefully, quietly, he pushed the door open. The darkness greeted him with its silent swing. Fortunately, he knew much of this room as the rest, as the Third Circle was often tasked with the maintenance of this place. "Haec illustrant locus," he invoked with the power of the Weave. The torches, high above the shelves of books, flared to life with a vibrant yellow fire. An unnatural flame, of no doubt, but one that burned with no heat.
Master Enanth stepped into the room. With the smallest of gestures, the door slid silently close behind him. Here, light allowed him to see, yet shadows still hung. To those attuned to magic, those shadows felt much different. Here, the tomes of forbidden knowledge and dangerous magic existed. And here, someone had entered without permission.
He quietly began his way forward, scanning the room with a keen eye. It was most likely a student, but the sundered lock had him wary.
(OOC: Eventually, he will find Gareth. But you are free to do write as you wish, as I have been looking forward to!)