RP:On Witches

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc

Summary: Muzo and Josleen meet by chance and discover a common interest: witches! They posit that witches must have a unique physiology and Josleen opens doors for Muzo to pursue this research on her dime.

Red Ogre Inn

Muzo sits alone and one of the many marble-topped tables in the lavishly furnished hotel lobby. In front of him sits, as usual, a glass of tomato juice and plate of celery sticks. He twirls one such stick between his narrow, nimble, slickly scaled fingers. "...to minimize departure from the primary fragmentation and keep metamicrotransgeneration in check, eliciting possible application of transmogrification inhibitor fields..." Quietly, almost serenely, he mutters a mile a minute, a babble like the rattle of leaves and grass stalks on a breezy day: placid and incessant. A blank look hangs on his face, rather like that of one asleep, imperturbed and still save for the bobbing of his broad ophidian jaw and the occasional blinking of his wide, featureless, glossy black eyes. The naga wears nothing, save for a bandolier and a belt, both stuffed full of gauges, vials, probes, meters, scales, ampules, and other alchemical accouterments. In front of him, a hefty tome lies open, it's pages lazily leafing back and forth on their own accord. Muzo takes a sip of his juice, hums a moment, and resumes his dreamy meditations. "...reducing arcanoblastic fritzulation beneath the threshold of total or partial causality bypass..."

Josleen visits the Red Ogre to escape the tedium of wedding planning. She always thought planning her wedding would be a dream, but royal weddings have demands and flourishes she never anticipated. Indeed, she never foresaw she would marry a king. Thus, an escape is as necessary as a drink. While most large dogs are not permitted inside the lobby, but no one dares tell the future Queen that the Prince Pooch, Gigi, poodle and gentleman-dog, is not permitted in the hotel. Gigi trots in, rump held as high as his snout. At least he is well-behaved, for the most part. He sniffs the air at the scent sausage and buttered bread, and is about to follow that scent to a diner when {LO! WHAT’S THIS! SNAKE? MAN? SNAKE-MAN?!} He follows this new and exciting scent to Muzo’s table, ignoring the trash tomato juice and celery ‘food’ the snake-man is eating and opting instead to sniff Muzo’s scaley tail, and, having not been immediately shooed away in 0.5 seconds, LICK! Josleen is oblivious to this as she is at the bar ordering something pink and boozey. She carries with her a book whose spine reads “Facts and Myths About Witches”. It’s a well-known primer written about 100 years ago that has in recent decades had 40% of its content debunked, and with some ridicule. Witches mate with giant newts?! Hah!

Muzo is oblivious to both Josleen, her dog, and anything outside the confines of his own musings. In fact, as Gigi trots nearer, it is the book, not Muzo, who notices first, and the moment the animal is within nipping distance, it's pages give a hasty flap, propelling itself upward and safely away. Muzo blinks, startled, and looks up to the now lazily fluttering Formulae (the book's name, so embossed in brown leather on the cover and spine), then down to Gigi. His eyes widen comically, and his tail jerks away reflexively, accidentally knocking over a chair in the process. "Oh-ha-erm-a-a-apologies," he excuses himself to the dog and coils the prehensile tip of his tail around to set the chair back aright. "Presume you belong to a patron." A quick sweep of the lobby, mostly vacant, brings his attention toward Josleen, her drink, and her book. Her antiquated book. "Witches. Neglected branch of study."

Gigi snaps up to bite formulae, as poodles were bred to retrieve water fowl and this book -might- be a strange paper-duck. {THE HUNT IS ON, QUACKER!} The hunt is abruptly cut short by the crashing chair. Both Josleen and Gigi, startle in nearly identical fashions. When Muzo’s tail curls around the chair, Gigi barks once and elatedly. {WHAT! HOW! WHAT!} He looks to Josleen, tail wagging a mile a minute, one paw tucked up against his chest in disbelief. {MOM! WOW! Did you see? Wow!} Josleen reprimands Gigi for disturbing the naga, but only half-heartedly as he is too cute! “Gigi!” To Muzo, “I’m sorry about that.” Her gaze flickers to the book, a bit of a shock but then again, she’s seen stranger things. She did practically grew up in the Mage’s Guild due to her father’s esteemed position within The Guild. Then Muzo refers to her (comparatively lame) book and she blinks down at its cover. “Oh, yes. Indeed. Though I am finding it difficult to get through this one. It spends too much time describing the anatomy of witches and not enough getting at the heart of what I’d like to know. That is, how does witch magic differ from arcane, druidic, and divine magic?” {THE HUNT IS BACK ON!} Gigi leaps up to bite Formulae. “Gigi!” Josleen hisses, snapping twice to call her dog to heel. He runs over to Josleen, heels for two seconds to please her, then immediately pivots and runs back towards the book. The noblewoman is forced to get up and cross over to Muzo to physically restrain her dog with one hand while the other balances a book and drink, which teeters as if it will spill at any moment.

Muzo sets down his tomato juice, just in case, and he straightens his bandolier nervously. "Have wondered the same, myself, in passing. Subject lies largely outside my area of expertise." As Formulae floats higher and higher, the naga discovers he is prompted to stand, lest the book should flap itself outside *his* reach. "Sounds credible. Many magical properties are linked to physiological structures." At Gigi's persistence, even Muzo pushes himself up some, raising himself a little higher than usual on his tail; there's plenty to use, as the naga must be around twenty feet long. Even for a slender fellow, the man must weigh several hundred pounds. "I-ah, er-well..." He stammers around a bit and is visibly relieved when the creature heels, concerned when it turns back, and embarrassed when Josleen must follow the dog over to his table. "Oh, ah!" Sensing her drink might slosh out, Muzo reaches for it, but he stops his fingers short of being useful, hovering inches away from drink or book.

Josleen spills about a third of her drink onto her book, table and the floor before she catches herself and sets down the wet book and drink on Muzo’s table. “Sorry,” she says quickly before diving in with both hands to restraint Gigi and order him outside! Out! {What! Mom! Why! Paper-duck! Why! Nooo!!!} He whines audibly at this injustice. But nonetheless, out he goes to wait on the street like a -vagabond-. {What an insult!} Josleen smiles apologetically to Muzo (waaay up as he has grown) as she pulls a handkerchief from her bosom and wipes down the table and book. “He’s a very good dog. I don’t know what’s gotten into him today.” Pause. “But yes, physiological connections to magic. I know this first hand. I was born with a mild weakness to a certain type of magic which I had corrected through physiological means. It wasn’t a problem with my arcane-summoning system, but arcane-defense. I was quite weak against charm magic-- fear spells, charm spells, lying spells, that whole range of magic. It’s fixed now, my defenses as where they should be, I believe. The cure was curious, as were my, uh, doctors, so to speak. Pixies. They have a cocoon, a magical plant in their size, in which damage to their being can be repaired, and their being is wholly magical. They shrunk me down and put me in and voila!” �

Muzo will not thank Josleen for dismissing her dog, no matter how glad he may be that she has. Plucking Formulae gingerly from the air, he lowers back down, coiling neatly upon himself. "First hand?" His scaly brows raise, and Muzo listens eagerly, attentively to Josleen's recounting. "Pixies," he nods along, a grin widening, although it falters for reasons internal and unspoken. Something about the discussion makes him flinch a little, but he tries his best to muscle past the involuntary emotional reaction. "Utterly fascinating. Wish I had been there to observe it myself. Exactly the sort of thing that pushes breakthroughs and advances the whole of magical understanding. Assert that physicality is the root of all magical properties. This is the fundamental philosophical basis of Alchemy." Ah, there we are. The glow of pride quite adequately covers his moment of pain. "Muzo," he extends a hand, "applied alchemy, royal academy, Alithrya."

Josleen smiles as she sees this naga’s passion flourish. As a passionate woman herself, albeit about other subjects, she recognizes the fire. She shakes his hand politely and assumes this is an invitation to sit, so she does. She gives her name although she assumes (perhaps incorrectly) that he already knows it. “Josleen. Uh, Thane of Frostmaw.” Muzo, by simply existing in the Red Ogre Inn, would likely be able to link her name to the royal wedding this upcoming weekend. “Though perhaps the title that would interest you most is Daughter of Kyl’oriel.” Kyl’oriel is the author of many scholarly tomes, a naturalist who links natural flora and fauna to their magical properties, and indeed even their alchemical uses. He also discovered the uses of quartz in colon health, the science of which was accepted by the academic community, but the method of which was rejected by all persons with dignity and self-respect. “Ah, an academic. I guessed.” She smiles cheekily at the sentient book as she sips her drink. “I asked a professor at the Academy here what the difference between a mage and a witch is, and he couldn’t rightly give an answer. I feel this blind spot in our understanding of magic should be corrected. Is Alithrya any closer to discovering the difference? If not, perhaps Larket could lead the world in this area of study. University of Cenril, Royal Academy of Alithrya, the Mage’s Guild, why should they sign their names on all great discoveries? Time for Larket to rise up, eh?” And who better to fund this than a queen?

Muzo is ironically oblivious to the wedding and to Frostmaw heirarchy both, but when the name Kyl'oriel is dropped, he immediately gasps. "Truly!" He shakes Josleen's hand with vigor. "Cited his work on bundleflower roots in my preliminary jersher proposals. Remarkable figure. Honored to make your acquaintance. Yes, please," he indicates the chair Josleen is already taking. Sitting himself back down, he pushes the celery tray to rest between them. "Ah, yes, ah, Alithrya. No, no academic activity to speak of. Stagnant. Troubled. Wrecked by," his brow furrows, and he looks somewhere between confusion and disgust, "many things. Suitable asylum here in Larket. Hope that shifting power will not threaten neutrality." Muzo sighs and takes another sip of his juice, setting Formulae down to do as it pleases and leaf through its own pages again. "Have learned to distrust change, however inevitable it may be. Curious, though," he pushes back toward his sincere interests, "by this 'blind spot' you've uncovered. Could be great academic service to illuminate the topic. Assume this is your intention?"

Josleen, Thane of Frostmaw, Future Queen of Larket, medical war veteran of three wars, and etc., is often outshined by her father. She has grown accustomed to this and it makes her quite proud. Muzo’s vigorous handshaking sets a nearby guard on high alert, but the false alarm is soon detected for what it is. The bride Queen is laughing, regardless. She smiles as he correctly zeroes in on her meaning. “If you are interested, we should meet regularly and see what can come out of a collaboration between you and the throne. I am curious about this subject, but lack the knowledge and skills to pursue it myself. I do have some discretionary spending.” Yes, -some-, aka the royal coffers. “I can think of few nobler investments than this. You’re right to be skeptical of change, as am I. But, and I know I am biased, but, I believe the change at the very top of Larket’s government will improve the lives of its public. King Macon truly wants to elevate Larket’s renown across the world and subjects. Look how quickly he negotiated on Larket’s behalf for peace. His interest is Larket’s, not his own glory which is easily begot by war.” Pausing to shift back to the subject that interests Muzo most she asks “Are you employed at the Academy here?”

Muzo sets down his juice, looking pensive and apprehensive and Josleen goes on. Politics is among the snake's least favorite topics, and he must force himself to smile along with her laughter. What comes next comes as a surprised. "Collaboration?" This changes his demeanor completely. It was one thing to meet Kyl'oriel's daughter in person, but to be offered a collaboration on the spot, well! It seems almost too good to be true. "Would be ... willing to offer my services." Muzo hurries to downplay his eagerness. "Barely introduced to the topic and already share at least some of your curiosity. Could begin as soon as you wish. Literature, specimens. Easy to know where to begin. Always the same in research." Muzo sets his fingertips on the tabletop as though it is a pile of dough and he could begin kneading it any moment. "Currently uninvolved in Larket Academy. Was only vaguely aware that one existed." His attention flickers down to Josleen's book, then back up to her face. "Would assume you've already began collecting pertinent information on the topic? Need to catch up at least to wherever you are."

Josleen laughs again when Muzo says he was barely aware Larket even had an academy. “You’re not alone in that. That’s the problem.” She grins sheepishly when he looks at her book. “I borrowed this from the fort library in Frostmaw.” That should explain the outdated tome. Frostmaw, military hegemony that is it, isn’t exactly renowned for academic pursuits, especially not in the field of magic as giants are a low-magic race with cultural aversions to the arcane. “To be honest, I’m not much further ahead than you. I’ve been busy, what with the war and the wedding.” She speaks still under the assumption Muzo is vaguely aware of the war and peace treaty and her outsized role in both. “But I can give you access to literature. You should come to the fort and meet my father. He’s in town, for the wedding, and staying at the fort until Sunday. Also Skylei, a family friend and respected scholar from the University of Cenril. Through my father and Skylei you’ll have access to The Mage’s Guild and Cenrili libraries. I can ensure you have access to the Academy Library here in Cenril. Oh! You should meet Percival, the headmaster. I can arrange a meeting. He’ll also be at the wedding. Will you? It’s an open invitation and a great opportunity to network.”

Muzo nods along, even if his eyes narrow at the mention of Frostmaw. As long as he isn't required to visit the inhospitable north, he silently stipulates, this should be quite doable. A trip to Larket's fort seems much more in the realm of reasonable possibility. "Would be utterly remiss to refuse." He chomps down a piece of celery as he imagines what a chance to sit down and visit with the famed botanist might be like. What a fateful day! "Of course. Of course. Surprised and overwhelmed." Muzo blinks, still taking it all in. "To what do I owe all this?" The look he gives Josleen next is searching, as though expects all of this to come at some humiliating cost. Surely people don't offer connections and prestige out of the blue. What was he missing?

Josleen blinks in surprise, smiles, and chirps, “Nothing!” In truth, Muzo owes it to racism. He is a naga, and a stereotype about nagas is that they are brilliant scientists. Why would Josleen need to see a resume or qualifications? She can read his talents off his scales. “Well, perhaps you lucked out by meeting me today of all days. To talk of something other than table settings and floral arrangements has been a breath of fresh air. And besides, knowledge should be free. It costs me nothing to help a brilliant [read: naga] alchemist like yourself expand his knowledge base. We should meet again once you’ve taken a look at the literature to see whether or not you’d like to proceed with this research. We can discuss what that would entail then.” Meaning, mostly, money. Too soon to talk of that.

Muzo feels his sense of budding suspicion ebbing away with each of Josleens reassurances. "Please forgive my surprise. Don't mean to seem ungrateful. Trust you understand. Eager to catch up," he assures her, patting the table. "Eager to follow up, too. Would take your recommended list of reading. Might also... drop by the academy?" Already, he's thinking ahead, trying to plot his best approach to this new, peculiar topic. "Have time to plan and discuss. Believe we are in harmony and agreement."

Josleen shakes her head to dismiss Muzo’s apologies. ‘Think nothing of it’, her gesture says. “Yes, don’t let me keep you. Are you staying here? I’ll send you a list of books I think may be useful, though the list is surely too short and you’ll find much more in these rich libraries.” She finishes her drink and gathers her book and purse as if preparing to go. “I should head back to the fort.If you drop by the academy, tell Percival I sent you. Whenever you want to meet my father or Skylei, simply send word to me before you drop into the fort. Take care, Muzo. I’ll be in touch.” She rises, waits for the goodbyes to wrap up, then leaves. In the street, Gigi leaps up to see if his master has captured the paper-duck. She has not! {Useless hunter, mother. You should have let me! I WOULD HAVE CAUGHT IT!}