RP:Annabelle meets Luthentius

Luthentius , seated within his usual table at the far wall of this fairly sophisticated establishment, seemed to have indulged himself with the very mortal need for drink and food, or more exactly rather that of an afternoon tea, as it were. An ivory cotton cloth served to adorn the table before the elderly male, naturally dressed in a manner most suited for one of his stature, and upon it a single porcelain tray reside, embracing the masterly cup placed upon it's pale surface. From the rim of the vessel and heaven rising steam would be evident, indicated that the amber liquid within was still sufficiently temperatures. The Grey Wizard, himself, was seated within the usual high ridged chair, keeping his back toward the wall and glistening mercury eyes upon the sheet of papyrus loosely held betwixt his narrow digits. Every once in a while the high elf would, without as much as lifting a glance, reach for the cup and only tenderly, with utmost care, sip from its lukewarm rim, but seemingly always returned it to its indicated resting place upon it's tray.

Annabelle pushes the door open, small steps carrying her inside the establishment for the first time. She had a look of surprise when her eyes settled on the ambiance within the walls that refused the innocent passerby of what lay within. She steps back two paces from the door, observing that she did indeed see what she assumed was nothing more than a small eatery with rooms and board. The heavy book that nestled itself like a second home within the crooks of her elbows is lifted as she gives herself a ‘once-over.’ A small shrug and pouted lip suggested she found herself suited with the proper attire before walking in and smiling at the giant at the edge of the counter. Eyes were not left from her book for long when she finally found a seat she sought to occupy, away from the general crowd and conversation. She settles into the chair, intrigued by the rough sketch of what could only be explained as a machine, fingers not left to idle as she turned the same page front to back in deep study of what the image meant. She would place an order soon enough, but for now she simply studied in silence.

Luthentius ' attention was by far more distracted by the scripture cradled within his grasp to notice, or rather care, for the entry of any other patron seeking to quench their thirst and hunger within this present building, as such he did not notice the youthful Madame striding her path to a seat. A light expulsion of air served to release what tender irritation harbored within the sharp mind of the magi due to the information written on the notes before him, as such he decided to leave and continue with his work; With a hasty sweeping motion the last fluid gracing the cup of his choice the aged scholar downed the now lukewarm tea, and placed it back upon the table once more. Once he had collected the papyrus about him, he gently rose from his seat and reached out beside him; at once the gleam of manipulating manner formed within the loosely closed grasp, molding in to what could be observed to be a skillfully crafted ivory cane. Calmly the Wizard continued forth, gliding effortlessly across the harsh surface beneath his boots, but soon, once the silvery gaze of Luthentius was lofted to see where he went, something caught his attention. The weave of reality has changed; he sensed it, the weave of magic altered before his sight. Halting at the middle of the room, the high elf cast a scrutinizing stare about the establishment, attempting to find the origin of this... oddity. Within moments he found the source, indeed- a woman, it was, or rather…The script she carried with her. The male was hardly intimidated by the thought of striding closer, of which he did, and as such gained a view of some kind of mechanical drawing. Afternoon, Madame, uttered the smooth, indifferent vocals of the elder mage. I can't seem to recall I've ever spied your presence here before. Allow me the brute indulgence to wonder, who you might be?

Annabelle nearly jumps out of her seat when his voice hits her ears. The book slams shut, her fingers still inside. She emits a low squeak, muffled by the clearing of her throat whilst she adjusts herself in the comfortable chair.“I um… hello.” She appeared confused for only what that small moment would allow and she stands properly, offering a formal curtsey; as formal as could be whilst still clutching the book that was now closed and held tight against her chest. Wandering chartreuse focals light up at the sight of his cane, still having not met visual contact with the Wizard. “ I am Annabelle…” She almost stutters on her words, her heart ready to leap from her very chest as she studied his grip, loosely carrying that vessel of power. “..Annabelle of Ära… the pleasure is mine, I am sure.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from it, keeping her gaze fixed as they were when reading her literature just prior. Loose red curls are brushed from her face and her smile is endearing if anything. “Does my fulfillment of your request entitle me to your name then?” She seemed very light about the conversation, her mind already whirling about what this object could do, and what a person who could wield it so gracefully was capable of.

Luthentius , had he been any less restrained from urges if laughter and chuckling, would have indeed indulged himself with a silent rumble of uttered amusement upon the evidently startled Madame that so hastily made her rise from the seat of which she had taken prior. The regal display of the elder's exterior remained, per usual, majestic and stoic even upon the sight of the book slamming against her fingers with such brutality, he must truly have frighted her... or, more exactly, was very keen on keeping what was contained within those paged hidden from sight. A steely brow was cautiously allowed a light movement, lifting only for a split minute before commanded in to the always so indifferent veil adorning his light complexion. The Wizard became fairly surprised, however, upon the actual ethics infused with the female before him, her curtsey thus rewarded with a quite slight inclination of his silvery cranium. Madame... He would state once more, serving as a more proper greeting, making certain not to mention neither her fingers nor the act as it would most likely rob her of the dignity still present. Aye, your response served as sufficient. My name…well I have many names, miss, but most of the creatures of this realm address me as Luthentius. Luthentius the Grey, they call me. The aged magi could naturally not have discarded the intense stare so intently keen on soaking in the beautiful walking cane, held within his hand- as such the steely scalp of the magician would faintly tilt, whilst slender digits attentively roamed across the brilliant ruby crowning the item's tip. Ära, you say...rumbled the voice of the grey one forth, slightly elevated in volume, as to catch her attention. It would mean that you are one of the House of Ära, aye? The daughter of... whom?

Annabelle’s eyes snap to his own as the elevated tone gave way that he had taken note of her amusement with the piece. She never was one to pay attention to any one fleeting thing for so long; she was certain this piece was not fleeting, and thusly could not take her mind off of it. “Aye, The House of Ära is a correct assumption. I am daughter of Gregorious; sister to David, Edward, and James. Our mother…” She hesitated once more resting on the idea she was probably talking when she should have been studying “… Lena; formerly Lena of Outrove.” She almost winced when she said the house name, that name had been tarnished or centuries. She is quick to change the subject “So, does Luthentius the Grey know his way around this place, Larket, I mean.” Her cheeks flush instantly, she was about to ask yet another almost perfect stranger the inevitable. “It is no responsibility of yours, I know. But would a good Samaritan be so kind as to point a girl in the way of home. I have been wandering the streets for two days and somehow this place always keeps me from my destination.”

Luthentius ' gaze would remain still, calm, leveled whilst the woman spoke, her melodic tone resembling that of an nightingale, seemingly tender and pleasant against the sensitive hearing of the pointy eared magi. As she announced her heritage, he would simply nod, at first, noting the information for later usage. However, whilst she came to her mother's name, the grey one would blink, actually visibly indicate his surprise. Rapidly would the display of emotion vanish from sight, quenching the rebellion with an iron fist. I admit I am not entirely versed in the names of the houses of Larket, Ära is one I have heard of previous from now, as have I that of Outrove. Nevertheless... The witty mage intentionally made the female aware that he knew her heritage now, it would be to her disadvantage, and he made her aware of such- but he was also gracious enough to smooth out the effect with an graceful clearing of throat and inhale of breath. Slowly the expulsion would be released from the velvety lips of the elder, molding only faintly to what could be mistaken as a smile. I know my way around Larket, aye, being as I am one of its officials; it's to my benefit to know my surroundings. You are correct, it is not my responsibility to find the home of the confused...The tone uttered was one, strangely enough, of fractured amiability, not truly so, but resembling its warmth. ‘‘But I have no intention of allowing the daughter of Ära fall to the muggers of the streets due to pride. However, I cannot show you where your home is, Madame, since I am unaware where it is myself. Do you recall the scenery about your estate? Perhaps that can assist me somewhat.

Annabelle thought for a moment that this gent would deny her some direction as the few others had before him. With his final words she would smile, a pleasant and feminine smile that was both inviting and appreciable. “Our new house was built along the River Vibrance, up a hill towards the more wooded area. My issues reside in finding the river itself.” She had come to avoid being amused by her lack of direction; she was not one to take in the scenery anyways, with her face always buried in some text or another. “I have yet to meet with any muggers, but if you insist their presence in such a fine city I would be more than happy to pay for the escort of one such as yourself; being official business and all.” She chuckles lightly, the book growing heavy in her arms. A new house implied there was an old house, but its current state was left out of the conversation for the time being. “Maybe you would be so kind in telling me why a city would need a Magi Official, are there things that go bump and no answers to the origin?” Her thoughts were beginning to flow from her lips in odd rambles, no connection between one issue or the next. She had come to realize her fluid tongue with her few years compared to the beings around here, and almost as if a faucet being turned to stop, her lips close and she simply smiles at the finality of the last thought. She was still proper, just rather talkative. Talking was not her best talent anyways, so there was no real loss to her in clamming up.

Luthentius would once more master an inclination of that regal, authority demanding, head at the speech of the madame. With his own papers, held within his left clad, became somewhat uncomfortable to hold, much as he presumed that heavy book of hers would become the same, the magi would merely have to issue a thought for the sheets of papers within his grasp would disappear; first seemingly shimmering within the dim lit establishment, then simply..vanished without a trace. With the hand's newly found freedom, it was unwittingly lifted to caress the well groomed , silver, goat-tee as he thought. The river, madame, is merely west of here. Not very far away either. I don't recall spying an estate over there, other then that old building at the beginning of that stream, but I do not believe one of your families status would buy such a disaster of a house. Upon being offered pay for the service, the high elven male would emit a light wrinkle of his nose. Nonsense. I will not accept payment for such a trivial deed as to point in the right direction. And to make certain- I shall, indeed, escort you. With such the male's torso and entire well defined form would slide toward the side, the sound of ivory scratching against the floor would emit in to the still air in doing so, before lifting the item toward the door. I do not have all day, however. he uttered whilst gliding forth, for a brief moment leaving the woman where she stood, presuming she would be keen on following his steps. There are many reasons as to why this city of... humans... would require the presence of one such as myself. The sense of magic by others in power here are lacking, severely... as such I act as Grandmaster of Magic here in Larket due to the simple fact that it serves my purpose. Always there are fabric torn in the weave of reality, if there was none to oversee them, to take action when needed, then chaos would rule- and such..Young madame, a Wizard cannot stand. he would continue to say as his steps carried him out the doorway of this fine, his favorite, establishment.

Annabelle stood still for a time before catching on that she was to follow. Quickly her feet carried her to walk a few paces in his wake, explaining all the while. “There was an old house there; we decided to remove it from the landscape. The elders moved our house in its place, after our fathers passing. You would be surprised at what our city had become…” It was endless, the talking never seemed to cease once she began to speak. She catches herself again and grows suddenly silent, opening the book as she followed in a dead silence. To get her attention now would be a trick in itself, so easily the pages of the artifact in her grips would captivate every ounce of her attention. It was probably a good give away as to why she had become lost in the first place. Upon reaching the opening to the river her eyes had still yet to move from the book itself, her lips went through the motions of the ancient spells, but dialect was clearly not her strong point. This was the inevitable flaw of all humans, never being masters of more than one art as their time on the solid ground was limited to so few decades. She attempts and reattempts to annunciate the words, they were written in code that one had to recognize from years of study. To even most mages they would only appear as gibberish if they hadn’t the mental capacity to recite them in proper order. The artifact was a collection of masters past, each entering their skilled masterpiece within the text and kept for all eternity in the bloodline of the Ära. Her brothers had not earned their right to the pages she studied before her now, not with the war mongering and endless fights over birthright and eventually the assassination of their father. Had they any magical ability in the first place they would have known the book could only be given, not stolen, or inherited, and so Annabelle was now the carrier. Her only gift to do this artifact justice was her ability to decipher the instructions and she meant to Honor her father’s wishes even if it meant studying until her dying days. If he were to stop he would be met with the sting of bound leather in his back, for her reaction to stop with him would not be rewarded with such grace as mere recognition.