Solo A Rough Start

[Keene Ward]

The eleventh day of fall, 514 AV.

"Excuse me. You there. Pulser boy."

The walk up to the Vestibule had been much longer and more arduous than Keene had anticipated. Though the wide hallway had been a relieving change of pace from the mile long, winding slope of a dirt path, it was still long enough that Keene found himself rather out of breath after he had passed through the impossibly massive doors and into a courtyard. He had taken refuge against one of the stone walls that separated the interior of the structure into the respective buildings within the walls of the citadel, gaining only a short chime's worth of rest before a disdainful whine traveled across the otherwise empty courtyard followed by a clicking of heels upon stone.

"I said excuse me."

Having caught his breath enough to keep himself from panting, Keene stood upright, steadying himself with a hand still placed upon the stone of the wall. His weary grey eyes stared at the approaching figure who made a strange, twitching gesture with his hands, as if shooing away something unsavory. As he had just arrived and had little to no knowledge on the proper etiquette of Sahova, Keene decided to choose a slight bow. The gesture seemed to have little effect as the other man haughtily moved within comfortable talking distance.

"Excuse me."

Keene blinked. "You are excused."

The other man stared at Keene with his mouth partially open. His eyes were strange: expressive in their own right but they seemed to lack something, as if the light reflecting off of them was deadened somehow. "I'm... What?" He shook his head, flicking the pesky state of being of confusion away. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm resting."

"Not against that wall, you're not."

Keene stared blankly at the other man, glancing from the wall to his hand and back to the man's ever souring face. "...Yes I am."

The man let out a frustrated groan, reengaging the flicking motion he had employed earlier. "Remove your hand from that wall at once." Keene obliged. "Was that so difficult?" The man's condescending exasperation hung heavy on his words.

Shaking his head, Keene let his arms hand idly from his shoulders. "Not at all."

"I haven't seen you before." It seemed the man had been much more preoccupied with Keene's flagrant disregard for the sanctity of the wall rather than the person infringing upon it. As the man's eyes squinted in examination, Keene took the opportunity to appraise the other man for himself. He was a gaudy fellow, to say the least. Rings, earrings, necklaces and bracelets all glinted with various kinds of precious metals and gems. His face seemed rather pinched, a feature commonly associated with the fastidious and further emphasized by his neatly trimmed and groomed beard and hair. His clothes seemed to be as expensive as his jewelry, if not more so, and from the way he spoke he considered himself much more important than whomever he was speaking to.

"I said I haven't seen you before." His brow raised expectantly as he placed a hand on his hip, the other make a vague gesture as if to emphasize the fact Keene was a new face.

"Yes. I heard you." Keene's voice was level and calm. Having little idea whether the social rules of Sahova were similar or completely alien to those of Zeltiva's, Keene proceeded as he usually would (after all, most of the Zeltivan's social rules and regulations were lost on him anyway).

"You... I..." Another flick at the air. "What's your business here?"

Not armed with an immediate answer, Keene frowned. He had come to Sahova for the freedom to practice magic in whatever capacity he desired, however he wasn't entirely sure that was the best thing to say. He assumed there weren't many other reasons to come to Sahova in the first place, however, and determined it was best not to lie to the first person he encountered on a island supposedly dedicated to the advancement of the magical arts. "To improve myself and my craft."

"Craft? Are you some sort of laborer?" There was an obvious disdain towards the working class in the man's voice.

"No." Removing his left glove, Keene extended his hand to show the other man his scars. Typically, it was ill advised for a reimancer to run about displaying the wounds through which he received his ability to manipulate his Djed into res and transmuting it into the four elements. On Sahova, however, Keene hoped it would act as a pass of sorts; credentials to give him some sort of footing in the foreign politics of the island. "I'm a reimancer."

"Oh."

The two stared at each other for several more beats before the man continued. "So I take it you just arrived on the Shooter a short while back?" Keene nodded. The man glanced around the still deserted courtyard before letting out a large, mournful sigh. "I suppose I should introduce myself and send you on the correct path." He gave Keene a patronizing glare. "I'm a very busy nuit, you know." He shrugged, crossing his arms before letting out another dramatic sigh. "But I'm nothing if not a philanthropist. I couldn't possibly let a poor, innocent, pathetic mortal wander around the Gug Adjak without any kind of instruction-" He interrupted himself with a sneer. "Oh! Wait. You're not innocent at all. You owe me ten mizas for a loitering violation. Make that twenty for attempting to make a fool of the Overseer." He extended an expectant hand to Keene. "It's a total of thirty mizas for your fines and the cost of renting a room in the Quarters."

Keene stared at the man's hand for a few moments before reaching into his coin pouch and placing the money into the out stretched palm. Stuffing the money into his pocket, the man smiled. "Excellent. My name is Emarus Telemaran. You may refer to me as 'Overseer'." Pointing across the courtyard and slightly to the left, Emarus continued. "Over there are the Quarters. You may occupy any room in the fifteen floors." The finger jumped to the right, pointing out the large building to the right. "And there is the Gug Andjak. It houses the laboratories." Letting the hand nestle itself in the corner of his other arm, crossing both across his chest, he finished with, "And everything else is off limits. If you have any questions, I suggest you figure it out on your own. I'm a very busy man." After which, Emarus turned on his heel and clicked his way back into the building he'd just exited: according to him the "Gug Andjak".

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[Keene Ward]

Sparse barely stood as an accurate depiction of what appeared to be a cupboard with a sleeping mat and basin inside. Keene stood in the center, having only to take two steps to do so, and surveyed the cramped area. It was the sixth room he'd investigated since the Overseer had directed him towards the Quarters, and Keene had decided the others were going to be, more or less, the same. Setting his rucksack onto the ground with a heavy thud, knocking up a plume of dust, he made his way over to the small, rickety looking table that held an empty basin. Presumably, it was meant to hold water to clean oneself with, however the inside of the tin container was currently inhabited with several spiders and a fair amount of dust. The dust from the floor had once more settled, finely coating his backpack and shoes. There had been several rooms prior that had been in slightly better condition than the current, and Keene doubted anyone was going to clean up any time soon. Returning to his bag, he hoisted it back onto his shoulder, coughing into the crook of his elbow from the musty particles in the air. Setting back out and down the stairs, he slipped into one of the rooms he'd visited before.

The room was basically the same as the others, but it had been cleaned within the last month or so. Dirt and grime from the chamber pot in the corner had been... dealt with, in a manner of sorts. The stone floor, however, boasted bricks rather than a coat of earth. Once more the bag hit the floor, but the ground remained on the ground rather than half of it floating up into the air. Checking the basin, Keene was pleased to find it to be void of all insects and had only a slight spattering of rust along the edges. With his investigation complete, Keene sat himself down on the center of the bedroll. It seemed the thing was more for show than anything else. Though stuffed with straw, it was as hard if not more so than the cold slabs of stone it rested upon. In fact, the entire Quarters appeared as more of a facade than anything else. Keene doubted the undead had any need for such trivial things as sleep.

It was chilly, as well. From what he had gathered on his hike up to the citadel, the island's climate was much warmer than that of Zeltiva's. Within the stone walls of Sahova, however, it was decidedly nippy. Keene figured it had something to do with the preference of the Nuits as well, however he knew little about them. In fact, he knew little about everything pertaining to Sahova. His face fell into a contemplative frown as he further explored the depths of just how much he didn't know. Speaking out loud as was customary during any form of intense mental activity for Keene, his voice bounced around the cubby of a room, resounding as a distorted whisper as soon as the sound left his lips.

"If the Overseer is a nuit, that would make him the first one I've met. Physical characteristics of a nuit?" He stared down at the unresponsive stones. "They seem to appear human... More weary, perhaps. He looked as though he'd not slept in a long while." Tapping his finger on his shin as his elbow rested on his upper thigh, he continued. "Nuits don't appear to sleep. Do they eat?" Unsure whether the race ate or not, Keene didn't dwell on their potential diet. "And Sahova itself... It's warm, yet the buildings are cold. Reimancy? Other forms of magic?" He shook his head. "Entirely likely." He gazed out the open door, staring blankly at the wooden obstruction directly across from him. "The Gug Andjak houses the laboratories. Gug is many... Andjak? A form of Djed? Djas? Many creatures?" Keene's frown deepened. "Either way, it seems that is where the majority of the island resides." Letting his gaze wander, his attention focused inward. "And the Overseer... Do I gain access through mizas alone? It seems... petty."

He leaned back, letting his weight shift onto the heels of his hands behind him as he stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know nearly enough." Remembering the Overseer's "tour", Keene let out a small sigh. "And my movements are restricted." Having limited access to the buildings and facilities of Sahova reminded Keene an awful lot of the University. "It's too early to assume I have made a mistake." Pushing himself up to a squat and standing up straight, he stretched his legs. On the table there had been a small brass key, presumably a match to the lock on the door. Snatching it from the wooden platform, Keene locked up what was now his broom cupboard and headed back into the courtyard.

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[Keene Ward]

Upon reentering the courtyard, Keene was surprised to see it populated with a handful of people. They seemed weary, clothed in leathers with bows and spears. They carried with them several slain beasts. Appearing to be hunters of some sort, Keene found their presence strangely relieving. Having arrived on an almost empty island had been unnerving enough without the peculiar interaction with what seemed like the only nuit in the citadel. Without a second thought, as his mind was far too focused on collection any and all information about his new land of residence, Keene marched up to the group, even going as far as to let his lips curve slightly upward in a more genial expression (however little).

"What can you tell me about Sahova?"

The men stared at each other, a few whispering, before one stepped forward. He was a surprisingly skinny man, sporting a toned physique rather than a large, burly musculature. A puff of beard framed his lower jaw with an equal amount of fluff giving volume to his otherwise bare head. His eyes, however, were not that of a nuit's. They possessed the sheen of life, however dreary they may have appeared. As he spoke, it was apparent the hunters were only that and not doubling a scholars. "You stupid or somethin'?"

Keene frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not according to my definition of the word, no."

The others snickered, being hushed by the wiry man who appeared to be their leader (or at the very least their elected spokesperson). "Look, kid. Sahova is Sahova. If you're a spell slingin' nuit who's nuts about magic, it's paradise. If you're a Pulser - that means alive. Get it? Pulse? - then you're either a slave or you turn yourself into a nuit." The man was very straightforward. It was about the only quality about the raspy man Keene appreciated.

"There are no other options?"

"Well..." The man's confidence that had bordered on boasting fell some. "I guess there's some apprentices and masters that aren't nuits..." The names "Marin" and "Cosa" circulated around the group before they were hushed into obedient silence. "And then there's always the Wardens." The name seemed to elicit several disgruntled mumblings. "They're... The guardians of the grounds or some such nonsense."

"S'not nonsense. They're a strong buncha fellers. They put the kabosh on-" The second man who had spoken quickly fell quiet once again from a glare given by the hunters' leader.

"Yeah, they're strong. Really strong." He poked Keene's bicep with a bony finger. "Squirt like you'd be better off just becomin' a nuit." The others began to laugh but their humor died down quickly as a figure emerged from the Gug Andjak and started towards the building between the quarters and the Gug Andjak (of which the function of said building had not been divulged by the snippity Overseer). "...Look we've gotta go." The hunter turned, leading the others towards the Quarters.

The second man who had spoke lingered, glancing between his group and Keene with a torn look on his face. His frame was just as slight as the other hunters, however he sported no beard and his clothes seemed to fit him a little bit snugger. His eyes, too, held a brighter spark. "Thomas's just been here a long time s'all." The man shook his head, his mousy black hair swaying back and fourth a tick behind the rest of his body. "He came here tryin' ta be a wizard or somethin', but the big fellers said he weren't good'n he got stuck bein' a slave." Keene raised a brow at the condensed history of the hunter Thomas. "Oh, s'not that bad bein' a Hunter. They don't do tests on most've us." He smiled then, though Keene could not discern whether the gesture meant his words were insincere or the opposite. "But ya hava good look about ya." He sidled up closer, moving his hand to whisper in a low voice. "Iffin I were ya? I'd see if ya could get real cozy with them Wardens. It's dangerous, but sos all Sahova. 'Least there ya'll learn ta keep yerself safe."

Having allowed a large gap of open space to cover between himself and the rest of his group, the hunter offered Keene a wink and, "M'names Boswell. Iffin ya wanna talk more when I got time, I'm on the fifth floor. Just hollar." With a wave, Boswell scampered off to join the rest of the hunters. Keene watched them disappear into the building he'd just come from, his frown still tugging a the corners of his mouth. The figure who had sent the hunters running had since entered the middle building, and Keene turned to frown at the building's door. According to the Overseer, he only had access to a few of the buildings. He could only assume there were countermeasures in play to prevent him from entering any room or building that was off limits to him, but there were no guards of any sort he had seen anywhere. There were the Wardens, but Keene wasn't entirely sure if the hunters had been speaking truth or filling his head with foolishness. Either way, Keene didn't like being uncertain when there was a simple way to abolish his misgivings.

With a confident stride, Keene stepped up to the door and moved to firmly grab onto its handle. The next thing he knew he was several feet up in the air moving in a slow, gliding arc towards the ground. It was so sudden, Keene had just enough time to let out a surprised yelp before he slammed into the stone ground with a thud before rolling several times until he came to a stop in a mess of arms and legs. He'd landed on his side, slamming most of his weight into his hip and shoulder, but for the most part he was unharmed. Wincing as he pushed himself up, Keene rubbed the tender (and soon to be bruised) patch on his hip. Shaking his head, Keene decided trying to skirt around his restrictions wasn't going to be a very productive course of action.

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[Keene Ward]

The Gug Andjak was much more welcoming in the sense it was not deserted and the door didn't try to fling him halfway across the island. Other than that, however, the atmosphere was as hospitable as it had been everywhere else. Here, however, there was a frantic business in the air. From the doorway, Keene was able to stare down two separate halls on either side of him that housed what appeared to be workspaces, though the majority of space was filled with the hustle and bustle of bodies. The collective of voices filled the building with a low hum of unintelligible debate, muttering, and cursing. The cold that had been present in the Quarters was, unsurprisingly, also present in the Gug Andjak. With the amount of bodies, the building should have been much warmer in spite of whatever atmospheric controls were in place.

Keene knew full well the repercussions of interrupting concentrated study, so instead of barging into the common labs with questions bursting fourth like flames from a torch, he chose instead to glide forward. His attention flicked all about the large central room that served as what Keene could only define as a "multipurpose area". Far to his left near one of the three larger doors that stood out from the smaller ones that lined the entire hall stood a man sculpting a woman out of earth reimancy, chatting the entire time with a woman holding an armful of books and looking incredibly disinterested. Some distance to the right of the reimancer and company, there was a young man waving his arms about in front of three stately looking men and a ratty looking woman. Whatever he was trying to convince them of didn't seem to be happening quite like the frantic man desired. People moved in and out of rooms carrying papers, boxes of supplies, handfuls of burning things, and other more exotic items Keene could only guess at.

And yet, the hall seemed perfectly orderly. There was no sense of baseless chaos, of the world spinning into untold calamity. Everyone moved calmly, with purpose. Even the speaker with the waving hands kept his excitement contained within the area he was involved with. It was almost like a strange but well fitted clock with everything working in harmony despite the fact the gears turned and twisted as if it should have exploded years ago. Keene felt a little smile tug at his lips as his grey green eyes lit up with the taste of potential. Blinking several times to get a hold of his expression, Keene cleared his throat as he passed what seemed to be a small child berating a middle aged woman about her improper use of the "obsidian pearl" he'd given her. It certainly seemed age had little place in the hierarchy of Sahova.

It had been too early to give up, but it was also too early to get excited. From what Thomas and Boswell had said, the island wasn't particularly fond of the living (or Pulsers being the correct colloquialism). Whether or not the Gug Andjak was an exciting place had little to do with Keene's own involvement within it. He required more information, but his initial survey of the area gave him few options of approach. Anyone engaged or seemingly busy was immediately removed from Keene's list of potential Sahovan tutors. There was very little that ever warranted interruption of another's work, the only exceptions being death or something more important to work on. Keene doubted any of the others within the Gug Andjak would find his sore lack of understanding to be a higher pursuit than what they were currently undertaking.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself through mindless meandering, Keene positioned himself slightly off from the center of the room. As he reviewed the room once more, a door opened behind him. Having little reason to glance at the new arrival, Keene's attention found interest once more in the group of five (where the man had been gesturing with increasing fervency). It seemed the woman had grown weary of whatever point was trying to be made and seemed to be vehemently stating her opinion with force. Hoping the man might leave with dejection and thus be a prime target for Keene's investigation. His musing were abruptly interrupted by a woman crashing into him.

The collision itself was minor. Keene stumbled forward several paces before turning to determine where the force had come from. A half tick after Keene turned, there was a smashing crash of what sounded like wood splintering followed by a muffled howl from the bushy haired woman who had just collided with him. Eyes flicking from the splinters of white bits scattered across the stone floor to the woman's horrified expression, Keene determined it was best to address the destruction of the object.

"What was it?" Keene had approached the woman who had begun to sob into her hands, though they only covered her mouth as her eyes were far too transfixed on the destruction in front of them.

"I... I'm sorry... I..." She sniffled, rubbing the tears from her eyes as she drew back some snot that had found its way out of her left nostril. It was a tasteless display. "It just... Those were the-" Another inhalation of mucus. "The last bones I had of him... The-the last ones..." She drifted off into unintelligible mumbling broken by the re-uptake of fluids dripping from her nose at intermittent points. As the woman clearly seemed to be incapable of any form of conversation, Keene turned to look back the the group he'd been previously interested in. The man had seemed to lose the argument and had started moving off towards one of the stairways at the far end of the hall. Deciding the man was much more useful to him than the blubbering mess of a woman, Keene moved to catch up with the departing man.

__________________________________________________________________________

[Keene Ward]

In his distraction, Keene hadn't noticed the sound of the crying coming to an abrupt stop. Before he could take a step, the woman had lashed out and captured one of his arms, effectively halting his egress. "Where do you think you're going?"

Turning his attention back to the woman, Keene frowned. The woman seemed no more distressed than he had, though her cheeks still shone with fresh grief. "I was going to speak to that man." He pointed unobtrusively towards the man who had begun to descend the stairs and disappear down the hall.

The woman snorted. "Edmund? He's useless." She shook her head, her wild hair flying in every direction at even the slightest movement. Her voice was surprisingly harsh and sharp. It held the same commanding quality Mella's had had, though it was much more refined and precise. "That joke of an animator couldn't even make an Observer function if his life depended on it." She snorted out a chuckle. "Which it does, by the way." Her eyes drifted back to the mess upon the floor, eliciting a frown. "Don't just stand there, pick it up."

Keene, thoroughly confused by the woman's sudden change of emotion, obliged, kneeling down to gather up the shard of what seemed like bone into his hand. He moved carefully, gingerly gathering up the shard and piling them into his hand until only a few minuscule bits remained. Extending his hand to deliver the pile of osseous matter, the woman merely raised a brow at him. Unsure what else to do with the bone, Keen retracted his arms and stood with the shards sitting comfortably in his hands.

"...Well that's disappointing." She let out a dejected sigh before pushing some of her hair out of her face (whereupon twice the amount that had been removed took its place). "You didn't explode."

"Was I supposed to?" Keene's voice carried a hint of irritation, though his question thoroughly reflected his curiosity. The door had blown him halfway across the courtyard. He should have thought twice before grabbing the remains of what could have been a powerful artifact.

"You weren't supposed to explode." She rolled her eyes as if the very idea of Keene's spontaneous combustion was absolutely absurd. "But it would have been nice if even one of those useless shards of wasted life had been reactive. They might have let me in just for that." Crossing her arms, the woman glared at Keene. "But you broke it, and I'm fresh out of wizard's bones."

"I didn't break it."

"Doesn't matter. It's broken and you were part of it."

"I suppose that's true."

"So what are you going to do about it?" The expectancy in the woman's voice was heavy, pushing her voice higher in both pitch and frequency.

"Nothing."

The woman laughed. It was a mixture of a drawn out series of guffaws mixed with snorting she seemed to channel from the spirit of a pig. When she'd finished, her eyes glinted with a deadly aggression Keene found disconcerting. "Oh, you're going to do something about it, all right." She had advanced; her very presence pushing Keene back several steps. "Either you get me new bones, or you give me yours." Emphasizing her next sentence with coinciding jabs with her finger into his chest, she continued, "Take. Your. Pick."

Deciding it was in his best interest to find bones rather than donate his own, Keene brushed the woman's finger away from him, frowning. "And where might I find new bones?"

Smiling, the woman withdrew, allowing Keene his personal space once more. "The best would probably be in the Blood Hills." Shrugging, the woman brushed the idea off, swiping at the air. "But you'd be better off just getting some from the Prairie in the Testing Grounds."

"The Testing Grounds?"

With a frown, the woman crossed her arms, her eyes moving up and down Keene's body in evaluation. "...You're new here." Keene nodded, hoping the woman might give him some much needed information about more than just the "training grounds" she'd spoken of. "Figures." Rolling her eyes, she extended her hand. "Risabel Timpel, maledictor."

With hands full of bone shards, Keene stared down at the hand for a beat before shifting the bones into the crook of a cradle of his arm and grasping Risabel's hand with his own. "Keene Ward, reimancer." It sounded strange, as Keene was much more used to just stating his name rather than following it with his magical ability.

"Reimancy, huh?" Risabel raised a brow at Keene's gloved hands as she released the handshake and returned her arms to sit crossed across her chest. "You know you don't have to hide the scars here." Keene nodded. He'd figured as much, but he'd grown accustomed to constantly wearing something on his hands that failing to do so made him feel inexplicably exposed. "Alright then, pay attention, Ward." Pointing back towards the entrance of the Gug Andjak, Risabel proceeded to define and explain the various rooms in a clockwise fashion. "Directly to the left and right of the entrance are stairs to the upper and lower levels - you've only got access to the first five up from here." Moving her finger along, Risabel continued in a steady cadence. "The doors leading off to the left and right are the common labs. Anyone can use them for alchemy, malediction, magecrafting, you name it." Keene nodded, paying close attention like he'd done during all the lectures Mella had subjected him to (and subsequently tested him over). "The smaller doors here," She gestured at the first half of doors lining the walls. "Are all private labs. They've got wizards and apprentices and master apprentices and what have you." Pointing at both of the larger wooden doors that stood several feet higher than the ones leading to the private labs, Risabel progressed with the tour. "These are lecture halls." She made a general sweep of the rest of the hall with a lazy gesture. "Those are all workshops, private and common. Same setup as the other half of the room." Finally, she stared at the large door directly in front of them. "And that is the main lecture hall where your judgement takes place."

"Judgement?"

"Right. You're new." Risabel motioned for Keene to follow her, which he obliged, bones still in tow. "Basically you can't do anything in or on Sahova until your magical capabilities have been evaluated, and you're placed either under, over, or with another wizard." Glancing back at him with a smirk, she added, "I wouldn't get your hopes up for anything above 'under'." She exited the hall, Keene gliding close behind. Once they were outside, Risabel pointed off to her right at a diagonal. "Over there are the Testing Grounds. They're fairly self-explanatory: you have something you want to test without blowing up your lab, you take it to the Grounds." Keene raised a questioning brow at that which Risabel merely shrugged off. "Better out on the grounds than inside the Gug Andjak." Once more crossing her arms, Risabel shifted her weight, leaning more on her left side as she examined Keene. Taking the opportunity to return the inspection, Keene evaluated the maldictor. She was taller than him by at least a head, though it was difficult to discern her true height as her hair seemed to account for at least several inches. She had pale skin, full lips, and hazel eyes that had surprisingly heavy lids. She had a petite frame that had several layers of clothes that hung off of her unimpressive shoulders. From a purely physical standpoint, Risabel was entirely un-intimidating. However, the moment she spoke the illusion was dispelled. "You look pretty weak, Ward."

"The same could be said of you, Ms. Timpel."

"Fair enough." She grinned, though the gesture didn't reach her eyes. "Look, if you get me those bones, I'll do what can to get you situated here." She raised a finger before Keene could even think about responding before adding, "I'm not gonna help you pass your judgement or anything like that, but I'll tell you what I know about the island and our little undead associates." Sticking out her hand once more, she offered, "Fair deal?" Glancing down at the bones in Keene's hands, she rolled her eyes. "Just drop them, they're useless."

Obliging her command, Keene released the shard, letting them scatter at his feet before shaking hands with Risabel once more. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"You could let me kill you and use your bones."

"I prefer the prior agreement."

"Thought you might." Risabel looked up at the darkening sky. "Gods it's later than I thought." Letting her attention drift back onto Keene's face, she finished with. "You'd better get going tomorrow. I expect bones in no more than two days." With that, she turned upon her heel with a single swift movement before stomping back into the Gug Andjak. Staring at her back until the doors closed behind her, Keene found himself conflicted.

On one hand, he had found a veritable font of information regarding Sahova and it's inhabitants. On the other, he couldn't help but feel as if he had just been sent on a rather dangerous mission with little knowledge of what he was actually supposed to do. On top of that he'd lost thirty mizas within the first bell of setting foot in the citadel. Sighing, Keene shuffled over to the Quarters. The idea of spending the next indeterminate amount of nights on the lumpy brick of straw in the closet of a sleeping room wasn't very appealing. He was, however, exhausted from the travel over the past few weeks and wasn't particularly intent of staying awake any longer than he had to. With little reason not to retire, Keene struggled his way up the stairs and into his bed.

He glared up at the ceiling in the darkness. Sahova was certainly nothing like he'd imagined it, but it wasn't exactly a bad thing. It was different, however Keene found it was very possible the difference might be improvements in disguise. "I won't know until I know, I suppose."

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[Ink]

Fate has dictated the conclusion to your journey...

...And now, only Fortune awaits you.

I am Ink, Mistress of Sahova; and it is my pleasure to award you with this bounty of XP and Lore. If you have any questions regarding this Grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM. Fret not, I tend not to smite...often.

 

Keene Ward

XP

• Observation 3
• Socialization 3
• Negotiation 1

LORES

• The Joys of Meeting Emerus Telemaran
• Gug Andjak: Overseer Telemaran
• Layout of Sahova
• Quarters: Claiming a Broom Cupboard for Oneself.
• Nuit Look Tired
• Boswell: A Sahovan Hunter
• Risabel Timpel, maledictor.

MISCELLANEOUS

• Ledger: -30 GM
• Note: I wish there were more skills here to award you, the threadw as very well written.

With Regards,
Ink