Completed [Savintar Warrens] A Place to Lay One's Head (Meville)

[Sidian]

1st of Fall, 513 Sidian squelched into the main office of the Warrens wetter than he had ever been in his life. Spending the better part of a night in a blizzard has its disadvantages. Shutting the door behind him, he pulled back his hood and shook his coal black hair out, hoping the drowned rat look was in style. He sighed and took a moment to bathe in the warmth of the room. Although, a real bath would be nicer at the moment. Looking around, he realized that this was the first building in Avanthal he had ever been in. The earth tones and the log construction gave the room a cozy and welcoming feel. Well, I suppose anything is better than a tiny hammock strung up in the storage deck of a ship. The last year and a half of his life had been spent travelling on a trading vessel around the better part of Mizahar. He had signed on as a passenger to the first ship out of Zeltiva and not bothered to ask where it was going until a few days into the trip. That earned him a shock. Avanthal. The northernmost city of Mizahar; home to Vantha, polar bears, and more snow than any one place has a right to. He hadn't even read any books on the city, only browsed some entries in his father's encyclopedia. However, he had already paid full passage and Avanthal seemed as good a place as any to run from one's bad decisions, and so began a journey of 6 seasons, ending in a walk through a blizzard and a night spent out in the cold. Sidian snapped out of his reverie and glanced over at the empty front desk. Guess I'll have a seat and wait. He slung his pack down off his shoulders, and eased down into a wooden chair with a plush cushion. The chair seemed like the most comfortable he had ever sat in. Warmth from the fire washed over him in glorious waves. Maybe I'll rest my eyes for a moment. He tilted his head back a bit and slowly closed his eyes, the green circles becoming half-moons, then crescents, and finally shut. His breathing slowed and Sidian drifted off into a light sleep. He dreamt the same dream he had for the last year and a half. He dreamt of the void. Of course, he had never been to the Other Side, but one's imagination can conjure vivid illusions. Velvet blackness swirled around him. Every now and then he would see a spot of light, a flash of something, and then it would be gone. Then, something flashed, but didn't disappear. Sidan drifted towards it (or did it drift towards him?) and the object slowly faded into light out of the infinite blackness. Closer.. it was vaguely circular... a face perhaps?... yes, a face. He could almost make out the features. Just a tiny bit closer...

[Meville Brightshade]

The night had been yet another boring, uneventful one for Meville. The blizzard outside certainly hadn't helped business at all, but Meville had busied himself with plenty of things to do to push back the agonizing poison of boredom. At first, he'd doodled for a while on his skin, enjoying the prick of the quill and the appealing way the ink spread over the pores of his hand. Of course, this only lasted a short while before his hands were covered from fingertip to mid forearm in various interesting names he found in the ledger and a myriad of poorly drawn, wobbly figures ranging from beetles to terrifying cries of the damned (or were it a smile?).

Having run out of comfortably usable skin, Meville had moved on to lying upon the floor and reciting the Vani alphabet followed by a word for each letter. Once he'd made it twice through, Meville found the activity almost worse than doing nothing at all, so he changed it a bit to rekindle his interest. Each time he shouted out a letter, he'd roll to one side and sing a little song. It was something of an "A!" Roll. "All the angry angry aim for... Avanthal!", though it only lasted until "d" before he tired of it. Practicing Vani just wasn't nearly as much fun as talking to people with it.

Eventually, he'd decided to head into the back room and rummage around in the various artifacts guests had left behind. It had been at least a week or so since he'd last checked, so there were plenty of things to keep him occupied. Near the top of the pile was a fancy looking hat made from the feathers of some exotic avian which Meville promptly placed upon his head and continued pawing through the mound. Aside from the hat, he discovered a half eaten chunk of something dark and sweet smelling, a little carved animal creature with large ears and tusks (though only one of both tusk and ear remained), several notes, and a large frying pan.

Once he was able to evaluate his treasures, the chunk of something sweet was nonchalantly popped into his mouth as he continued down the line of loot. The carving wasn't really all that interesting, but he still placed it upon a shelf in the room where several other figurines of various medium were situated. His "Savables Shelf", as the two women who were here most often called it. As for the notes, Meville curled up in the mound of mostly clothing and placed them in the middle of the frying pan has he pulled the iron monstrosity onto his lap. He snuggled down and began the task of sorting through the ones he could read. Those that were in foreign languages were stuffed away in his pockets for later research. As for the rest of them, Meville busied himself in the various scrawls of the writers.

It wasn't until much later that he heard the door outside open and close and the tell-tale sound of boots upon wood. Seeing as he was in the middle of a particularly captivating piece of correspondence between to distant and very lonely lovers, Meville figured the person outside could wait until he'd completed the rather raunchy bit of script in full. Some of the things depicted in the letter Meville had never even really believed possible. The world surely was a wondrous placed, filled with intrigue and extremely flexible individuals. Once he'd finished, several chimes had passed, so he hurriedly tucked the letters into his shirt and headed out into the front.

As he peaked into the main room, his bright blue eyes beheld the relaxed figure of an exceptionally long-haired man asleep in one of the many chairs about the establishment. For a moment, he considered just jumping back into his cave of lost things and finishing up his literature he'd recently procured, but the better half of him pushed him out into the room with a slight clearing of his throat. Nothing. The other man remained completely inert, though his face did twitch into a slight frown. Moving forward, Meville brushed a feather out of his face that had come loose from the hat, wrinkling his nose and repressing a sneeze. Once he'd reached a comfortable talking distance from his bedraggled visitor, he ventured a pleasant, "Hello?" Again, any sort of noise was met with the same inert response.

Deciding the man was firmly ensconced in the recesses of his mind, Meville crouched down in front of him so their faces were only a hair's width apart. "Welcome to the Warrens!" His voice exploded from his lungs so loud it even surprised his own ears. Unable to repress his giggles, Meville leaned back onto the floor as his mirth joined in with the crackling of the fire.

Common | Vani

[Sidian]

Sidian gasped awake to the sight of an extraordinarily outlandish hat, the sound of a thunderclap voice, and a feeling similar to how he imagined a heart attack. He instinctively jerked away from the source of the sound, an ill-judged operation resulting in excessive force in a backwards direction being applied to his chair, and finally concluding with him being rather abruptly and painfully acquainted with the ground. In a demonstration of the excellent quality of Vantha carpentry, the chair miraculously stayed intact. That was more than could be said of Sidian's dignity. Picking himself up off the ground, he dusted himself off and did a quick scan for any injuries. Not finding anything particularly lethal, he attempted to assume the air of scholarly haughtiness his father had been so good at. Slightly more composed, he remembered there was now another being in the room which probably warranted some social interaction. The man in giggling on the floor had shockingly blue eyes and blonde hair. Due to that, and recalling that he had used Common, Sidian realized this probably was not a Vantha. "Apologies for losing my composure, sir," he managed to stammer out, "you gave me quite a fright there." Sidian leaned down and picked the chair up off the ground. "I've had quite a long journey and I'm looking for accommodations. I was directed here by a local I was lucky enough to chance upon in the street. Do you have rooms available?" And what's so funny? He added the last bit in his mind somewhat vehemently, frowning slightly at being on the receiving end of this man's prank.

[Meville Brightshade]

As the man replaced the fall furniture, Meville was able to get a handle on his laughter and push himself up to his feet. The other man had a wild, unkempt sort of appearance, but he spoke with a refined air associated with one who was well-read or at least learned in the art of proper speech. Meville happily nodded at the other man's request, the feathers on the hat dancing about from the vigorous motion. "I've lived here my entire life and never have the Warrens been without a room for a traveler in any state of being." His bright eyes jumped up and down the dark figure before him before he grinned and trotted off towards the desk.

"It's pretty uncommon for anyone to be wandering around at this time of night." His words floated around the room, obviously meant for the only other person there, but directed at nothing in particular. "You should probably count yourself doubly lucky they didn't try to empty your pockets after the fact." He chuckled to himself as he leaned over the desk to snatch up the ledger and quill. Turning and leaning against it, Meville flipped through the pages of the tomb as he continued to speak. "At any rate, I'm glad you were able to find your way here in spite of everything." He glanced up, a spark of devilish glee in his eyes. "And made yourself so comfortable so quickly to boot." A few more pages turned as he glanced back down. "That you were able to retire so in such a place as this certainly sings volumes of your weariness, as you said."

He tapped his finger onto the page, muttering "E-Seventeen..." as he laid the book upon the desk and moved towards the back and began rifling through one of the drawers. "I'll get you situated as quickly as I can, though I admit I'm a bit out of sorts at the moment! I hadn't expected anyone in tonight, let alone this late!" Meville's voice was muffled as he called back to his guest from behind the oaken structure. "Ah, here it is..."

Emerging from behind the desk, Meville placed the key on top of the ledger. Once that was done, he flipped back to near the beginning and turned expectantly to the man, a quill in his hand. "If you'll be as kind as to give me your name, I'll be happy to loan you your cabin's key. We can discuss payment and the like later on tomorrow. I don't want to keep you here any longer than I already have." The last bit was added with a friendly, understanding smile. Often travelers such as the one before him were far too tired and drained to properly pay for anything anyway. It wasn't as if he had to pay up front, either. In this particular case, Meville just wanted to poor man to recharge his weary bones, for he certainly looked the worse for the wear.

Common | Vani

[Sidian]

"I've lived here my entire life and never have the Warrens been without a room for a traveler in any state of being." Sidian was relieved to hear this. So relieved, in fact, he forgot to keep up his pretense of scholastic superiority, gushing, "Oh thank the gods, that's so good to hear. I can't imagine spending a night out in, well, that again. The books said it was cold, but this... this is positively frigid!" Alarmed that he was babbling, he quickly cut off his speech. He listened to the man's thinly veiled inquires and remained silent, pretending to examine a particularly interesting knot in the wooden desk before him. He feared he had given out too much information already - the less people knew about him the better, as far as he was concerned. Anyway, this man seemed intelligent and Sidian didn't want him drawing any right conclusions. People were always suspicious of magic, and surely the citizens of Avanthal were no different. Also, he seemed so happy, so carefree. And so friendly. That was the worst thing. How normal, happy, people treated him so well, without knowing what he truly was. A fool. A coward. A murderer. It had been easy to stay away from people in his hammock on the ship, reviewing his father's notes again and again, but here... here it would be harder. The man leaned over the desk and snatched a large ledger from behind it. Sidian, not exactly sure where he should stand, remained awkwardly next to the chair, watching him from a few feet away. "That you were able to retire so in such a place as this certainly sings volumes of your weariness, as you said." The comment seemed harmless enough. Sidian nodded saying, "Yes, also rather embarrassing though. I suppose I'm lucky all my possessions are still, well, in my possession. It would have been easy for someone to come along and steal something." As the man flipped through the book, it occurred to Sidian that he didn't actually know if that was in fact true. Alarmed, he opened the top flap of his bag and rummaged around, ensuring that everything was in its proper spot. He didn't suspect the blonde joker, but someone else could have easily come along during his time spent asleep. Everything seemed to be in place. Realizing what he was doing was probably very rude, he hastily replaced everything, not noticing that a page of his father's notes slipped from the worn binding and slid across the floor, coming to rest under the wood desk. 5th Winter, 492 Excellent progress made on formulas today. I think I have the calculations almost perfect. The breakthrough came when I changed the way I thought about how force from a portal's push/pull is exerted upon an object. It's easy to think of it as a gravitational constant, but I believe it is actually much more complex than that, scaling proportionally to Djed expenditure. I wish to test this theory soon, and perhaps develop some method to measure a portal's force. Must go now, the smell of smoke from the kitchen leads me to believe dinner is burning. While Sidian had been distracted taking his mental inventory, the man had moved behind the desk and retrieved a key. "If you'll be as kind as to give me your name, I'll be happy to loan you your cabin's key. We can discuss payment and the like later on tomorrow. I don't want to keep you here any longer than I already have." There was the kindness again. Time for the haughty scholar defense mechanism. "Many thanks. I do appreciate your consideration. A meeting tomorrow sounds perfectly acceptable, I will be sure to have an appropriate sum prepared." Sidian paused for a moment before adding, "Oh yes, my name. Right." He was on the other side of Mizahar, what could the harm be in giving out his name? He was completely unknown here. "Sidian." One of his father's many lessons echoed in his head, "Manners boy. Manners are the foundation of civilization. Ask the man his name; shake his hand." "And yours?" He stuck his hand out awkwardly as an afterthought.

[Meville Brightshade]

The man, Sidian as he'd called himself, was a strange one, though not quite in the respect that Meville was often classified as. He seemed... Distant. Masked, almost. His responses were, for the most part, guarded, refined, and proper. Though, his slight outburst of genuine gratitude had been a bit of treat, one Meville found himself sniffing around for more. Tonight, of course, wasn't really the best time for it. The mysterious, shaggy traveler would, until a later date, be just that. For now, Meville played right along with the charade. It was either such a ploy, or he was just imagining things so late into the night. Either way, their future meeting which both had agreed upon would serve to elucidate the matter when the time came.

It certainly was late for the man who seemed for a brief moment to regain full control over his facilities, only to falter at the end with a tentative extension of his hand and a question as an afterthought. Meville let out a bubble of laughter as he made his way over to Sidan. "Sidian, hm?" He let the syllables bounce around in his mouth a little, playing the name as he moved into a comfortable distance to reach out and grasp the man's hand with a friendly, but firm grip. "I would be Meville. Meville-" He frowned slightly, giving Sidian a contemplative pout before deciding to continue. "Er, I'm sorry. I'm never really sure if it's proper to respond with both name and surname to only one name given, or if I should just follow suit and only speak my first." He shrugged, releasing Sidian's hand, and grinned. "But, if you're curious at all, mine is 'Brighshade'."

Nodding his contentment in the current exchange of names, Meville handed Sidian the key. "Your cabin is a short distance from here. Once on the porch of this building, head to your right until you reach the first cabin. From there, take another right and continue down until the..." Meville's gaze rose towards the ceiling as his lips moved in silent numbers. "Sss... Seventh cabin. The one to your left." Meville nodded, affirming that his directions were correct. "I'm sure you'll make it there just fine." He chuckled, leaning against the wall behind him. "Of course, if you do have any trouble, you can always just try the locks at random until you manage the right one."

Common | Vani

[Sidian]

"Meville Brightshade. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I've heard names like that, but much further south than here. I never did know my own surname... my father -" Sidian halted abruptly. "Ah, I mean my parents, never did bother to tell me." Sidian took the key and gathered himself up, hoisting his pack up off the floor. He listened closely to Meville's directions, trying to make a mental map. Right, right, seventh cabin on the left. Interesting layout. A mathematical analysis for efficiency might... Sidian realized he had drifted off and Meville had finished talking several moments ago. "Oh, yes, right, understood. Thank you. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, again, pleasure to meet you. Oh and apologies for the mess." Sidian glanced down rather guiltily at the small puddle that had accumulated in his general area. With a final quick smile to Meville, he turned around and walked back outside into the blizzard. Somehow, although Sidian thought this physically impossible, it seemed to have gotten colder since he had made his arrangements within the Warrens' office. He made a right turn at the first row of cabins, struggling to see in the pearl haze. Another right. He walked down the row of cabins until he found the one marked E-17, on the left, just as the man had said. He fumbled around with the lock for a good 30 seconds, his frozen fingers refusing to cooperate, until he finally managed to slot in the key. The door swung open and he stepped inside the cabin. From the moonlight streaming in through the window, Sidian could tell the cabin was of a modest size, with a single room incorporating a sitting area, a small kitchenette, a twin bed up in a loft, and a door leading to what he assumed was the bathroom. He stripped off his Kalean robe, placing it on the hearth. The fireplace was cold and empty, so Sidian grabbed some kindling from the bucket beside the hearth. Arranging it carefully, he pulled out his flint and steel and struck them together a few times. The kindling was good and dry, the third spark caught. He added a few logs from the small pile next to the bucket and a fire was soon casting a warm glow around the room. Sidian pulled a chair up next to the fire and sat down with his journal. He wrote fascinating paragraphs of expertly crafted prose about the day's events. At least he would have, if he hadn't fallen asleep the moment he settled into the chair, exhausted from the day's events.

[Meville Brightshade]

"What a curious sort of person..." Meville muttered to himself as he frowned down at the puddle where Sidian had been standing. It was true Meville's name came from the southern reaches of Mizahar, though he doubted "Brightshade" had any sort of significance short of ignominy. Fortunately enough, the puzzle (or should it be "mask"?) that was Sidian had given him a couple clues to chew over. First, the man was from the south. How far, exactly, Meville could only speculate. From the paler skin and refined accent, he figured Sidian was most likely not from the southern most deserts, but having a relatively lacking knowledge of geography beyond Avanthal, Meville wasn't better able to place where the man came from.

The second, more interesting, tidbit of information was he'd first referred to "his father", correcting it shortly after to "his parents". Usually, that wasn't so strange a thing, but Sidian was so very... shady. Meville doubted Sidian would have corrected himself if his father wasn't someone of interest. Locking away that information into the many caverns of his mind waiting for such a trove, Meville ambled into the back room to fetch a mop to deal with the puddle. Several times, he'd figured leaving the water wouldn't be a problem until morning when Jennai came in. Unfortunately, several places where the wood was warped slightly were the result of his previous shirking of duty. Thus, both women had made it very clear Meville was to clean up when there was a mess. Period.

Whistling to himself in his clumsy trill, he happily dragged behind him the ragged bunch of cloth attached to a long stick they called a mop. As he was sopping up the liquid, he perused the interior of the room as was usual when he did anything tedious related to cleaning. His eye caught on a yellowish white something beneath his desk, certainly not something he'd dropped, as when he dropped something it tended to be a lot of something. Leaning the mop up against the wall, he approached the desk, descending to hands and knees to reach beneath it and coax the paper out from under it. "Hm?"

5th Winter, 492

Excellent progress made on formulas today. I think I have the calculations almost perfect. The breakthrough came when I changed the way I thought about how force from a portal's push/pull is exerted upon an object. It's easy to think of it as a gravitational constant, but I believe it is actually much more complex than that, scaling proportionally to Djed expenditure. I wish to test this theory soon, and perhaps develop some method to measure a portal's force. Must go now, the smell of smoke from the kitchen leads me to believe dinner is burning.

"Portal"... "Djed expenditure"... Meville chewed on his lower lip, the soggy spot upon the floor all but forgotten. He leaned against the desk as he reread the journal page several more times to make sure he was seeing properly. "Well, I suppose it's no mystery why he was rather mysterious. Magic tends to do that to people..." He tucked the note into his pocket along with the others he'd stowed away for later. It seemed Sidian was a mage in his own right, though Meville had little idea what sort of magic the man used. Obviously it was something to do with portals, which Meville doubted referred to the common door. The writing was surprisingly academic, as if it were, as Sidian had written, "magical theory" than notes. He'd heard of cities devoted entirely to the study and practice of magic, but Meville had never really given them much thought. At least, not until now.

Twirling around, Meville grabbed the handle of the mop and finished cleaning the puddle. As he worked, his voice danced in a little sing-song rhyme. "Over the sea there came to me, a man who's eyes were tragic." He lifted and placed the wood of the mop over his shoulder as he turned to replace it in the back room. "What could it be, I thought with glee, could that be the look of magic?" He chuckled to himself as he continued the rhyme in his faltering, though chipper, whistle. He'd never actually met someone who could use (or at least understood) magic. The Ice Reaving Vantha didn't really count in his mind, as theirs was a goddesses gift, rather than a skill learned.

Really. A magician had come to Avanthal. How very peculiar.

Common | Vani

[Lullaby]

Meville Brightshade

Experience

♪ Drawing: +1
♪ Singing: +1
♪ Observation: +1
♪ Investigation: +1

Lore

♫ Doodling on Your Hand to Pass the Time
♫ Singing the Vani Alphabet to Practice
♫ Pranking a Guest of the Warrens
♫ Identifying a Tired Traveller
♫ Sidian: The Hidden Magician

Notes
This was a short thread, but a good read all the same. I really hope to see an interaction between the two in the future! I liked the deduction that Meville went through at the end, since it was interesting to peak into his mind, and I awarded Investigation as he went through the process of discovering the facts that Sidian didn't mention. The rest should be pretty self-explanatory. Good work!

Sidian

Experience

♪ Observation: +1
♪ Wilderness Survival: +1

Lore

♫ On the Receiving End of Meville's Prank
♫ Meville Brightshade: The Kind Bookkeeper of Savintar Warrens
♫ Wilderness Survival: Lighting a Fire with Flint and Steel

Other

♪ Bad Cold: Sneezing, muscle tremors, mild-high fever, intense chill that lasts for twenty days and fades over thirty.
♪ Frostnip on Finger and Toes: Fingers and toes are pale, numb, and extremely cold to the touch. By the warmth of the fire while he sleeps, the frostnip will fade with intense prickling as feeling returns. His fingers and toes will have a decreased sensitivity to heat and cold unless in extreme amounts for the next month, and it will slowly return to normal over the following two weeks. During this time, Sidian has to take special care not to get frostbite, as he won't feel it's onset quite as acutely.

Notes
This was an interesting thread, and I really enjoyed your writing style that had humour punctuated throughout.
I just have a few comments. Firstly, Sidian would be dead if he tried to live through a blizzard with no tent, or even a proper coat. No questions asked. It is below zero, and Sidian doesn't have anything! Coat, gloves, nothing! Next time, I will be no where near as lenient with what he would get from such circumstances. It will be intense frostbites, debilitating sicknesses, lost limbs, and the like. Please prepare Sidian for the weather.
Also, trading ships never came directly from Zeltiva. It is too far, and not enough would be gained from it. Avanthal has special ships for their ice-filled waters, that Zeltiva wouldn't have access to, as these Avanthalian ships only go to the Spires, and Wind Reach. Any traders that come back would be a different story. Just keep that mind for the future, since your backstory may have to be edited to accommodate.
Other than that, this was a good first thread and I look forward to more from you in the future.

A quiet song to soothe the heart

If you have any questions or concerns about your grade, PM me and we'll figure it out!