Open [Sakel City Event][Valkala Library] Words are alive

[Balian Martell]

No sooner had the woman answered that Balian began to feel temperature around him grow cold. His breath could be seen now, a small mist as it escaped him. This was no normal draft. The woman for her part seemed to have noticed the change as well, stopping mid –sentence as she gazed upon the shelf. The wood began to creak and to Balians amazement, to sway. For a moment he was transported back to the bronze wood during a windy autumn day, the groaning shelves replaced by the trees in the wind. The memory was brief however, as the shelves began to sway violently.

Balian clutched the leather bound book tightly as he looked upon the scene before him. The library seemed to have come alive. He began to take a few steps back as the shelved swayed in there spots, some so violently that books began to be thrown off, showing the pair with bound parchment and heavy covers.

"…Get out of there. I think they are going to topple.”


Her instructions needed no clarification. “…petch” Balian muttered as he threw himself forward. It was a good thing too, as the shelf to his right had finally given in and began to topple over, cascading books down where he had previously stood, landing with a crash against the shelf in front of it. Balian picked himself up as quickly as he could, dagger and book still in hand and began making for the main area of the library. The weight of the first shelf was too much for the second to carry, and soon the wood began splintering before it too came crashing down. His legs pumping as he rounded the first corner, Balian tried to dodge the falling books side stepping whenever he saw one coming down at him.

The destruction seemed be contained to only a few shelves in this part of the library, as he no longer saw books being thrown at him from above as he made his way towards the main area, and a few turns later he stood panting, adrenaline still high, next to the desks. “what the petch was that..?” he asked out load, bewildered at what had just happened.

[Kamilla]

Kamilla Circe Gordon

Nothing. The sorceress had ventured a row deep into the isles in search of a clue as to what was happening, if anything was happening at all, only to find a completely ordinary and empty isle of undisturbed books on bookshelves. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she began to wonder what she had been expecting, or hoping, to see once she'd left the central desk area. A bunch of snickering kids? A mischievous mage? The more she stared at the empty row of books the more she realized that she had been building up the anticipation of a result to the few minor odd occurrences but with no semblance of an idea as to what she'd expected to find. Had she really been this desperate for a mystery to solve? A small puzzle to ignite her interest and exercise her mind? Was she really that bored?

Rolling her eyes at her own internal questions, Kamilla had only just spun around on her heel in order to give up on her little investigation and return to her desk when her brown eyes caught a glimpse of a head of blonde hair dashing towards her, far too close for comfort. While the normal reaction to such an occurrence might have been to move, or jump backward or something similar, Kamilla simply froze on the spot, body stiffening in surprise, the sorceress may have been of the living but often times her reflexes were just about as bad as those of the undead, sluggish and unresponsive, when she was caught off guard.

The person that had nearly barreled into her turned out to be the blonde woman who's gender had originally been difficult to place though, now that she was getting a closer look, Kamilla could see that she actually had quite an aesthetically pleasing face, though despite her physical appearance the woman's presence, finally, forced an instinctive backward step out of her. There was something unsettling about the woman's gaze but before she gave herself the chance to inspect it more closely, Kamilla's attention was drawn to what sounded like the dull distant thuds of falling books from the direction the woman had just been dashing away from. Was this woman the cause of all the odd occurrences? And how was she doing it? "What did you..."

"Shyke. Sorry. We should... Move. Back to the desks. Now."

Her attempt at an interrogation was cut short by the intimidating woman's words and although Kamilla was certainly suspicious of her behavior, the distant thuds were quickly growing nearer and she saw no reason not to retreat to the safer central part of the library first. With a quick spin and a dance of long brown hair, Kamilla was making her way through the rows at a brisk pace as what had once been distant thuds had now become approaching crashes of what could only be more bookshelves toppling over.

Once finally free of the narrow rows of tall and apparently unstable bookshelves, Kamilla turned to face the blonde woman once more, this time managing to get her question out. "What did you do?" Her words were loud enough that only the woman would hear, but did not lack a subtle hint of accusation. The woman didn't even have a chance to consider answering when Kamilla's attention was drawn to the form of a man emerging from the same place herself and the blonde woman had, only moments ago. She recognized him as the armed man she'd passed on her way in and suddenly realized the blonde woman may not have been the cause, the young man clutching a book in one hand and a dagger in the other suddenly seeming far more suspicious, though his out of breath question quickly revealed him to be just as surprised and confused. What was happening?

[Fallon]

Fallon mutely shook her head. For a long while she was quiet, creased into a line as she looked back. The world seemed to hold its breath, her eyes boring back at the stranger before she gave a curt cock of the head to the way out. She wasted little time, hands gently brushing the shelves as she passed before once more reaching the desks. The air still felt cold, a slither of a chill caressing forms before turning into cool. The inspector gave a glance, counting the heads of those who remained. Even now it seemed the inhabitants were beginning to gather their things – wary looks on whether they should stay or go. Some seemed curious, others were stuck in contemplation. The loud crunch of noise helped make their mind up and the hurried hands to pack things away continued. As the last few juddering books stilled, Fallon exhaled turned to the question.

”I have no idea,” her voice was mumbled, desk behind her now. She let out another breath, letting the tenseness of her form relax and recover. It was the truth, she did not know. It did not mean she was about to not give out guesses however, ”Ghost? Earth tremor? Mass wood rot? Maybe?” A shrug was offered, ”None of those are my fields though.”

She heard the accusation however and shot a glare out. The tone quickly turned defensive, ”I did nothing. He was the one skulking about with his blade, so I did my duty and investigated.” The orbs turned, swivelled and focused on the male. Leaning against the desk, she perched upon its edge, foot twitching. She was resisting jumping into a full interrogation, he did seem the most suspicious at the moment but that did not mean she had any evidence in which to accuse him, ”What were you doing?”

”Lies, all of it is lies. They’re coming for you. They will destroy you. I will destroy you, winter born.”

The inspector felt her back stiffen, fingers firmly drumming against the desk surface, the other free hand moving to rest upon the pommel of the kukri. A reassurance that it was indeed still there. Exhaling she heard the silence leave, a low faint groan of noise creeping in. A plume of white escaped her lips, a cold frost tracing its way across the table. She saw the pattern spread, blues and whites sticking and clinging to her gloves. She snatched her hand away, then moved herself when it begun to cling to her tunic.

”You cannot escape what you are.”
Breathe, breathe. In and out, her nostrils flared, the internal mantra playing in order to keep calm. She needed to keep a level head, direct the scenario into something she could mentally work through. She roughly lifted her foot when she felt the sole of it begin to stick, ”I think… we may not be welcome here.” Her head turned to the pair, "Unless one of you happens to be a spiritist or something? Please say you are."