The city of Elbion: The Gilded Feather
"Wraiths... Lycans... Dryads..."
The voice was hushed and focused, carrying softly across the shelves and dusty old tomes that lined them. The once pristine and world-famous library that used to bring so many to the streets of Elbion back when the city had been on land almost seemed a mockery of what it had once been. Oh, all of the books were still here, waiting for curious minds to seek them out and indulge in their knowledge. The building itself though had been a sad sight to see; with the rise of Elbion into the sky came a great drought of traffic, and without the constant stream of visitors to motivate the old fellow who ran the place to keep things tidy, it had fallen into disrepair.
It has been a shock to the white-haired elf rifling through the pages of a section of books in a cobweb-laden corner, dimly lit and cold with the breeze that ran through a badly insulated window built into the stone wall. He'd heard so much about The Gilded Feather, but what he'd found was a shadow of what it had once been. A shame, really... but he still had to get what he came for. Thin layer of dust on the floor or not, this was the most likely spot he could find information on the type of creature he sought. The entire back shelf was laden with information on all manner of magical creatures and the knowledge gathered on them, and on his fourteenth book, he found what he was looking for at last. "There we are, Pookas! Knew it had to be around here somewhere."
Varys San' Seya was quite familiar with Pookas. Perhaps a bit more intimately than most, having slept with one for a year or so. That Pooka was not linked to him, however, but was bound to another. It was a tragedy, but when the time came to leave his Master and go out into the world on his own, so too was he forced to leave behind the creature he'd loved. Varys had taken it hard, but time healed wounds, and the Elf had moved on. Now, he worried only about his own mastery of his craft. Every day he grew stronger, and in time he aimed to be one of the most powerful mages in all of Arethil.
So why was he here in The Gilded Feather, digging up information on Pookas? Well, it certainly wasn't to summon his own and try his hand at another bit of romance. Rather, he'd been hired to take care of a problem pooka that was terrorizing a small trading village just east of the floating city. They weren't usually creatures of pure unadulterated violence, so Varys had a suspicion there was more to this rampage than met the eye. Hopefully, this book would hold answers.
Closing it, he took a look for the old coot who ran the place. Varys swore he'd been here when he entered, but he was nowhere to be found now that he actually wanted to talk to him. The young man rolled his eyes, growling just a tad at his luck. He didn't have time for this; people were in trouble down there, and while Varys was getting paid, he did have a legitimate concern for every man, woman, and child in that poor village. No, he couldn't wait. Reaching into his jacket, he places a large sack of coin on the front counter, pushing the door open and taking the book with him out onto the streets of Elbion. There was still the matter of actually fighting the pooka... Varys' magic was powerful, but pookas were beings of magic themselves. It'd be much better if he could find a sellsword... or somebody willing to lend a hand.
Liadrin
"Wraiths... Lycans... Dryads..."
The voice was hushed and focused, carrying softly across the shelves and dusty old tomes that lined them. The once pristine and world-famous library that used to bring so many to the streets of Elbion back when the city had been on land almost seemed a mockery of what it had once been. Oh, all of the books were still here, waiting for curious minds to seek them out and indulge in their knowledge. The building itself though had been a sad sight to see; with the rise of Elbion into the sky came a great drought of traffic, and without the constant stream of visitors to motivate the old fellow who ran the place to keep things tidy, it had fallen into disrepair.
It has been a shock to the white-haired elf rifling through the pages of a section of books in a cobweb-laden corner, dimly lit and cold with the breeze that ran through a badly insulated window built into the stone wall. He'd heard so much about The Gilded Feather, but what he'd found was a shadow of what it had once been. A shame, really... but he still had to get what he came for. Thin layer of dust on the floor or not, this was the most likely spot he could find information on the type of creature he sought. The entire back shelf was laden with information on all manner of magical creatures and the knowledge gathered on them, and on his fourteenth book, he found what he was looking for at last. "There we are, Pookas! Knew it had to be around here somewhere."
Varys San' Seya was quite familiar with Pookas. Perhaps a bit more intimately than most, having slept with one for a year or so. That Pooka was not linked to him, however, but was bound to another. It was a tragedy, but when the time came to leave his Master and go out into the world on his own, so too was he forced to leave behind the creature he'd loved. Varys had taken it hard, but time healed wounds, and the Elf had moved on. Now, he worried only about his own mastery of his craft. Every day he grew stronger, and in time he aimed to be one of the most powerful mages in all of Arethil.
So why was he here in The Gilded Feather, digging up information on Pookas? Well, it certainly wasn't to summon his own and try his hand at another bit of romance. Rather, he'd been hired to take care of a problem pooka that was terrorizing a small trading village just east of the floating city. They weren't usually creatures of pure unadulterated violence, so Varys had a suspicion there was more to this rampage than met the eye. Hopefully, this book would hold answers.
Closing it, he took a look for the old coot who ran the place. Varys swore he'd been here when he entered, but he was nowhere to be found now that he actually wanted to talk to him. The young man rolled his eyes, growling just a tad at his luck. He didn't have time for this; people were in trouble down there, and while Varys was getting paid, he did have a legitimate concern for every man, woman, and child in that poor village. No, he couldn't wait. Reaching into his jacket, he places a large sack of coin on the front counter, pushing the door open and taking the book with him out onto the streets of Elbion. There was still the matter of actually fighting the pooka... Varys' magic was powerful, but pookas were beings of magic themselves. It'd be much better if he could find a sellsword... or somebody willing to lend a hand.
Liadrin
