Solo Fernweh

[Yomila]

22nd of Fall 520 AV

Much had happened of late that kept Yomila and her fellow squire, Reed, busy. They had agreed a trip into the wilderness would be good for the pair of them but had had little time to invest in furthering this plan. Between training and various other duties, time had gotten away from them and the Ethaefal had decided it was time to start putting things in to motion. She could be an unstoppable tempest when given half a chance, and the storm was building.

Yomila was very aware of her lack of knowledge of the land outside Syliras' walls. She knew she could have sought out someone to offer her advice; Reed could have very well asked his fellow Akalak and mentor, Kaer. But the Ethaefal was a solitary creature and one who rarely asked for help. She was set on figuring it all out on her own.

And so she found herself traversing the second tier following training, heading in the direction of the Archives.

She made her way through the antechamber that preceded it and came to a sudden stop when she realized it wasn't empty like the ascetic interior led her to believe. Two armor-clad knights stood tall to either side of a rumpled looking man sat at a desk that was as austere as its surroundings.

"Good afternoon," said the man. "I am Ser Ortyn, head-scribe here. The Archives is only open to Knights and Squires. If you are neither than I ask you go elsewhere.. perhaps Qalaya's Quill or The Undeniable Interests."

Yomila blinked. It took her a tick to remember she was dressed plainly rather than in her armor. The platemail was starting to feel like a second skin.

"Good afternoon Ser Ortyn," she said in her best attempt at civility. "My name is Yomila. I am currently a squire for the knighthood."

Ser Ortyn nodded, took up a quill, dipped it in ink and scratched it along the page in front of him. This continued for more than it would take to simply note her name but Yomila didn't press. Instead, she asked, "Am I permitted?"

Ser Ortyn continued to scratch the quill along the paper, remaining silent as he did so. With a final dot, he set the quill aside and shook what looked to be powder over his writing. Her glanced up to the Ethafael and nodded his assent. "You may. Keep to the General section. There are scribes available to you if you are in need of assistance locating something specific or copying information. Good day, Yomila."

Her black eyes flickered from the head-scribe to the two knights and then to the entrance.

She continued on an into the main room, eyes sweeping over what she could see. The walls surrounding her were stacked with books, more than she had ever seen in her lifetime. Although this wasn't saying much, the Ethaefal had never considered there were so many in existence as what lay before her. Tables peppered the center of the room, spaced in a neat and orderly manner. More and more came into her vision as time passed, corridors that led off in straight paths off the main building. Multiple doors to either side.

The Ethaefal knew what sort of information she was after, she just didn't know where to begin.

Ser Ortyn had mentioned that there were scribes within who could help her. She set about locating one, knowing she could easily lose a day casting about the many shelves just within this room.

tag: solo
nanocount: 587

[Yomila]

22nd of Fall 520 AV

The Ethaefal had spent little time tracking down someone to assist her, determined strides and hawkish eyes bringing her before an old man in a drab cloak in less than a chime.

He was sat before a desk much like Ser Ortyn had been, his robe and hood
utilitarian in fashion. The shadows from the hood and flickering lamp light made the wrinkles on his raisin face appear that much deeper. He glanced up expectantly, dark eyes glittering with unexpected life.

"May I help you?" he asked. His voice was gravelly but not unwelcoming.

"Yes," Yomila replied, "I'm looking for anything on the Bronze Wood, such as travel routes or survival guides if there is anything like that here." Her eyes said more, they shimmered, craving something on adventure. She motioned to the walls of books, "I'd have looked myself, but I fear I could lose days in this room going from book to book."

Then, more reserved, "I was told I had to remain in the general section. Would these topics be there?"

The man nodded with a smile that made his wrinkles deepen even further, "Of course, of course. You needn't worry, we have ample material on such topics here; anything from the best places to camp to information on common beasts you might encounter." He stood slowly, stiffly, then beckoned her to follow.

He led her to a far corner and paused. Yomila watched as he made a cursory look over a few of the visible titles on the spines of the books before them and then nodded to himself. "Here is where you will find what you are looking for. Do bear in mind that these are all opinion pieces, journals and accounts from those with first hand experience. Their quality will vary, but the material should still be adequate and some include detailed sketches and diagrams of considerable skill and accuracy."

The crinkly old scribe stepped back, allowing her to advance forward and make her own study of the books before them.

"Knights and squires may occasionally be allowed to take texts from the Archives, however there is no guarantee such permissions will be granted. Arrangements can be made if you need any of the information you find to be copied or transcribed for personal use. My name is Ser Balin, a knight-scribe, and I offer such services." He made a shallow bow and added as he straightened, "I offer teachings on knightly skills, as well, if you are ever in need." He noticed the dubious expression on the Ethaefal's face and amended, "Scholarly instruction rather than a more hands-on-approach. I fear my body can no longer handle the rigors required for physical applications but my mind is free of such hinderances. Theory is just as valuable for a knight or knight-in-training." He gave her a knowing look.

They both nodded, the Ethaefal in understanding and thanks and Ser Balin to bid his departure.

The Ethaefal's attention set upon the variety of journals and texts before her, black eyes roaming the spines. She noticed that everything looked well aged and worn, as if having been passed through so many hands. Some journals looked ragged and near ruin, the leather that bound them faded and cracked. Others looked fresher and still bore legible titles on the bindings. Common sense told her to stick to those but she threw caution to the wind and delicately removed one of the older ones. Two more joined it and she carried them carefully to one of the tables.

She remained standing and laid each journal flat on the table's surface, spaced enough so each could be opened without hitting the other. The old, battered journal still held the most interest, so Yomila decided to start with it, opening it carefully. Despite this, it protested, a crackling noise sounding as the binding was tested. She winced and felt how loose the journal was bound. She tested the pages gingerly and was relieved to feel them hold. It seemed it was only the leather that was deteriorating; whatever held the pages within did not seem to be as compromised.

She continued to handle it with great consideration as she turned the next page. They felt feather light - like a butterfly's wing, and were so faded that she could barely read the words on the title page. The ink had faded to near translucent, but she just managed to make out parts of it as well as the journalist's name:

Bronze Wood Travel Journal
Winter 483 A.V.

Ser Denys Braklin
Stewart Knight for the Blue Company, 1st Regiment, Silver Quadron

She turned the page, reading over what she could make of the contents.

- 10th through the 15th

account for weather
animals and plants encountered

The Ethaefal frowned. The writing was difficult to read, the ink so faded and script near intelligible. She wasn't even sure if this was something she would benefit reading but her curiosity got the better of her.

She turned the next page.

tag: solo
nanocount: 853