Private Tales Keepers of the Keys

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Detlan had, when the silence resumed, turned his attention back down to the scroll. Suffice it to say, silence made a form of respect the former Archon found agreeable. That was, at least, until he felt the tickling pull of the aether as the woman conjured a barrier of all things.

The man blinked, turned his gaze upward to her in bemusement, and furrowed his brows, "I have attained the knowledge to do so, yes," he replied, "put your barrier away Sorceress, before you embarrass yourself further."

With a terse sigh and an utterance about a barrier, honestly... he returned to his perusals of the ancient language. After a short while, when he was satisfied he'd found precisely what he needed, Detlan stood from his chair and moved across the room to a bookcase, "The Eirae," he began with the authoritative compunction of a man who had given hundreds of lectures in the learning hall throughout his career, "are an ancient race that predate known history, including the architects, the enchanters, and the portal stones. They were the people of the Vale and it is believed by some that the Vale was the origins of magic as we know it."
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: Noiraeve Talastra
Now that seemed vaguely familiar to Noiraeve. There had been some of this historical education at the College, but now that he mentioned it, it was coming back to her a little bit. She met Detlan's bemused gaze coolly, and despite the tint of rosiness in her cheeks, she had the good grace not to look embarrassed, and she didn't immediately lower her shield. Just because an ex-Archon said it was safe didn't make it so, and damned if Noiraeve Talastra was going to be seen as some kind of pushover.

She watched warily, then casually -- no import to it at all, and definitely not because he said so -- the High Sorceress let her shield dissipate so that she could lean over the table and study the document with Detlan.

Bracing herself up on her hands at the edge of the table, her fingers curled around the corners. "Is that -- " she began, then bit her lip to silence herself as she canted her head to one side. "And then -- but then what's -- the language is unlike anything I've ever seen," Noiraeve confessed, her eyes narrowing in puzzlement.