RP:The Black Library

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

Summary: Celaeno brings Genevieve to Vailkrin to meet with Bradyn. She becomes the newest member to the Necromancer's Guild.

The Black Library

Celaeno had gotten curious about something she couldn’t find in her Minor Book of the Dead, and wanted to read more, see if she could even access the information she sought. And, of course, she wanted to share such wonders with her new practice partner, Miss Genevieve. This had led her to sweep the human from her macabre little workshop toward Vailkrin and the fabled Black Library that had first motivated her to join the guild. The trip toward the foyer above had the half elf excitedly chattering about their most recent session until they became surrounded by sobering sarcophagi. A sobered silence came over her as she knelt to the doorway set in the floor that led to the stairs below. “Okay, from here I believe it is guild members only, unfortunately.” A silver gauntlet pulled the wood planks up, letting them lay open to anyone who might want to peek inside. “That doesn’t mean you can’t peer in for yourself without crossing the threshhold, I’m sure...It’s secrets protect themselves. I will be right back!”

The so-called City of the Dead already feels like home to Genevieve. The gloomy atmosphere meshes perfectly with the ever-present swirlings of dark magic that follow her; only a handful of residents have casted her a second glance since she and Celaeno arrived, and the few undead creatures they’ve come across have been surprisingly docile in her presence. She surveys the obsidian spires and towering complexes that make up Vailkrin with a gaze of wonder, utterly enraptured. An odd tinge of confidence gives her a spring in her step and a change in her appearance: today, her twintails are down into a pair of messy braids and her bangs, usually pinned tight to obscure her heterochromia, are left alone, revealing her dichromatic ruby-and-charcoal eyes. Her chattiness naturally follows suit, matching Celaeno’s own as they continue to make their way to the Black Library. “D’you think they would let me check out a book or two…? Oh, I can’t wait, Cela! This is so thrilling! Wh-who -knows- what they have down there! I’m sure they’re careful about preservation; I-I imagine some of those tomes are deathly old. Oh — de-deathly—” Genevieve lets out a ringing laugh at her own bad pun, carrying a charming cadence that alleviates any last disquiet she has at arriving somewhere as foreign as Vailkrin. It’s quite the rarity even to her own ears, almost startling, and she briefly shuts her mouth once she recognizes how easily sound travels in the city. The images of the dead surround them as they travel deeper into the heart of Vailkrin’s necropolis, riveting to Genevieve like a kid at their first carnival. Once they stop, she peers inside, eyes burning with curiosity. What secrets do they hold below? Though the thought of relinquishing her independence for a guild seems unseemly to her self-sufficient side, the temptation of the Black Library holds a grip on her focus. “O-of course I can wait.” Impatiently, nervously, yes, but she can wait.

The Black Library has had complicated ties to the Necromancer’s Guild throughout the years. It has been connected and associated with the guild through various leaders, up until patronage fell into the hands of House Mahara and Larewen took over control of the Necromancer’s guild. Things became tense then, because of Vailkrin politics. House Mahara and House Dragana have not always had the best relationship over the years and it is still one that is tense, bridges have not been completely rebuilt. Much of that has do with Larewen’s behavior and Bradyn Mahara’s stubborn disposition. Should Bradyn ever see fit to leave the guild, the connection betweem the Black Library and the Necromancer’s guild could be severed. He does not have intention of abandonjng the guild, that is not the point....! The point is, that Genevieve could brave entry, she just may not have access to every portion of the library. This is a detail that Bradyn will clarify for his voice is soon heard echoing throughout the room. It is heard before the man himself is seen, one of his usual parlor tricks. “As long as your friend minds her manners, she is more than welcome to enter....” No sight of Bradyn, not even after his words are heard. Surely he must be in the room somewhere though.

Celaeno felt bad for making her friend wait, especially in a place where the young woman belonged even more than she did. The voice carrying over the room had her pauses halfway down the ladder, making goosebumps perk up under her robe. She still hadn’t puzzled out how to tell a vampire from a typical undead or living humanoid, so she could only fathom his apparent throwing of his voice...everywhere, had to be some sort of magic. It was a favorable reassurance though, and despite the intimidating effect the Magister Letum had on her, she casts an eager smile up toward Genevieve. “Care to join me then, Miss Genevieve?” Regardless, she scurried the rest of the way down and glanced around toward the shelves closeby. Ever the stickler for formalities, she offers a bow of her head toward the empty air. He was her superior after all. “Evening, Mister Mahara...” Wherever he may be lurking. “Miss Genevieve is a necromancer as well. We have been practicing together.”

“U-um,” she barely calls something intelligible out, eyes darting downward. “Cela, d-d’you kn-kn-know wh-where that came from? I-is it okay…? Um, I’m coming down.” Genevieve sighs and takes the plunge, cautiously creeping down the ladder to face the contents of the library. Every creak and groan sends a pang of fear down her spine, but she somehow makes it to the bottom. “Oh my goodness,” is her only response, jaw slacking as her adjusts her glasses, eyes adjust to the darkness that permeates the chamber. This is truly Genevieve’s heaven: myriad books from every corner of the continent, from every era, every mage of some prominence, all dedicated to the study of black magic — the only thing she has any talent in. Even if she started now, she knows she wouldn’t be able to finish the library’s collection, and that’s what excites her so. The ornaments on the wall are also given a studious gaze, idly attempting to identify the race of each preserved skull she passes, admiring the craftsmanship of the antiques. She takes in the musty air and foul, seeping churns of dark magic with a gratitude she’s almost incapable of expressing. Is this the home she’s been missing? She turns to her companion with a grin that goes from ear-to-ear. “Celaeno,” she continues their playful banter from earlier, “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me! This is incredible! All black magic, correct? Wh-why, I imagine it must have taken centuries to curate this collection!” Her eyes glance at the bookcase beside them, standing on her toes in a vain attempt to read the titles at the top. Her giddiness feels alien to her. “Fascinating. Observe the binding of some of these; they must be at least a hundred years old…” she trails off at the mention of Mahara. Bradyn Mahara? She recalls Celaeno mentioning that name once. “W-was that the voice we heard earlier? Um, i-is he here?” Genevieve suddenly shrinks, hyper-aware of her actions, and shifts her gaze to the gauntleted mage once again. “Oh g-goodness gracious… what an embarrassing introduction. Um, Mister Mahara, i-if you’re here, I, um, do apologize…”

Bradyn’s trickery is definitely magic and not something that could be attributed to race, which means both women if skilled enough should be able to sense that detail. If skilled enough, they might be able to pinpoint his location but he was not going to give them reason to do so. Genevieve issues her apology and before she knows it, the Maharan will be standing behind her. He is not so close proximity to either woman that either should feel that their space is invaded, but it was often an unnerving feeling to have someone so suddenly standing behind her. “You do apologize for what?” Before Genevieve has a chance to answer the vampiric male is slanting his gaze toward Celaeno. “Having conversations about me? With another Necromancer?” A brow is lifted. “I hope this conversations included the suggestion that she should join the Necromancer’s guild as well.” Celaeno has already seen the vampire on a few occasions, the details about Bradyn are the same as every other encounter she has had with him. For Genevieve’s sake, the man standing behind her is a solid six foot in height, with black hair and gray eyes. His voice is monotone, but there have been a few instances where emotion has manifested. A grim smirk, for example, is a known display. He wears black pants that are neatly pressed, and a crisp white button down shirt that is worn beneath a black vest. Overall his look is a drab one, style was not something he often cared too overthink and yet he also did not want to look unkept or unpresentable. Back to Genevieve, “Doing so would be the most effective way to gain access to all of these books that you seem to adore...”

Celaeno was happy to dive into the discussion of the ancient bindings, her head bobbing along with that cheery smile plastered on her face to match Genevieve’s. His voice suddenly springing up behind them does make her jump as she darts around. Her magical sense wasn’t quite that honed just yet to see him coming, but growing day by day for sure. The girl’s cheeks grow brick red with the lofted brow, but she holds his gaze, turning all the way around to face him. In the low lighting, perhaps he wouldn’t notice, or care with how pragmatic she knew him to be thus far. “That was the context of the mention, yes. It’s certainly benefited me thus far. I can only imagine what a talent like her could achieve with its resources.”

Genevieve turns to face the stranger. “M-Mister Mahara,” she accentuates her introduction with a brief bow, eyes suddenly much more interested on the floor than on the imposing figure in front of her. Despite his simple dress, he instills something foreboding in her. Part of her can tell something’s a bit -off- about Bradyn but she can’t pin down what the something is. A faint hint of pink, emblematic of her diffidence, dusts her cheeks. She repeats his name to herself inwardly, horrified at the thought of butchering it. “I, um, j-just wanted to apologize for intruding, i-is all. M-My name is Genevieve — um, Genevieve Crane. I-it’s v-very nice to meet you. Celaeno is a dear friend of mine, and, um, she’s spoken to me about joining the Necromancer’s Guild.” She’s actively attempting to suppress her stutter with little success. A beat. “I-it’s my understanding that she’s been studying under you, and, um, I-I would hope she’s doing well?” No, Genevieve is positive she is; she has all the faith in the budding necromancer, and she’s seen with her own eyes how capable Celaeno is… occasionally to her own detriment. A nervous chuckle escapes her lips. “I’ve been teaching her some basics myself, and, um, she’s taught me much in turn. Celaeno is incredibly bright.” She casts a glance to her companion, beaming. “But, um, y-yes, it’s a pleasure. And… I do find myself interesting in joining.” Another dip of the head.

Genevieve was blushing from embrassment and Celaeno appeared to be startled upon hearing his voice coming from behind her. Bradyn of course put little thought or concern into any of this, as pragmatic was probably a nice way of describing him. A nod is given to Celaeno as acknowledgment that she was heard and then Bradyn is silent, listening to Genevieve’s explanation. “Well.” Bradyn states in his usual flat tone of voice. “If you are eager to join the Necromancer’s guild to further your knowledge of the dark arts then I think we should administer a small test, here and now.” Bradyn did not seem concerned about damaging the contents of the library. Those who ended up caring for this Library long ago learned that mages who are learning are prone to accidents during there studies. Much of the building has been enchanted against the basic elements to help protect against destruction. Someone more advanced in their studies does stand to be able to cause damage to the place....! But Bradyn was confident that both necromancer’s before him had enough respect for knowledge, learning and books that this will be a non-issue. “Genevieve Crane, show me what it is you have been teaching Celaeno.” This request had two benefits. One it allowed him to see where Genevieve was at with her own skill levels, and two it gave him further insight as to what Celaeno was devoting her time to studying.

Genevieve is more than a bit taken aback by Bradyn’s sudden request, but acquises. “I — um, are you sure, sir? V-very well,” she mumbles, taking another glance at Celaeno. “I suppose I should show you what’s inside this knapsack, right?” She smiles weakly before shrugging the bulging leather sack off her shoulders and placing it on the floor beside her. A delicate hand opens the bag up, revealing the porcelain-white remains of a variety of skeletons: a doe skull, the spine of a wolf, the limbs of rabbit… anything that caught her eye on her travels, too valuable to her to be abandoned. “M-my primarily expertise lies in resurrections,” she explains as she holds the skull in her hand. “Currently, I’ve, um, been working on grafting crude chimerae.” She takes in a deep lungful of breath, steadying herself under the gaze of the Maharan. Her aura flickers, brought to life, galvanized by the dark magic that permeates the library’s chambers. It’s more than ready to display its skill. Genevieve can already sense the dark tendrils of her necromantic energy weaving around the skull and the bag, slithering onto the spine and limbs inside like a snake curled onto a tree’s branches. Her knowledge of the sack’s contents make it simple for her to visualize the outcome of the resurrection, which will undoubtedly be strange. She mumbles something unintelligible under her breath, eyes peering into the hollow sockets of the dead doe. Muted rattling comes from the knapsack; Genevieve crouches, the back of the skull facing the sack’s opening. The spine assembles itself with an unnatural fluidity into the skull’s opening and the limbs soon follow suit. Her hands release the skull, which manages to support itself on its own, peer up at its reanimator as though curious. While far from a perfect fit, the dark magic makes a solid adhesive, and the resulting monstrosity — a deer’s head, a wolf’s spine, a rabbit’s legs — crawls up Genevieve’s back and perches itself on her shoulder. She scratches the skeletal chimera under its chin affectionately and receives a light headbutt in turn. As she rises, Genevieve’s eyes make contact with Bradyn’s steel greys, searching for signs of approval or disapproval. She’ll be hard-pressed to find any, however. “I-It’s a bit rudimentary, yes, but I do enjoy combining the parts of different species… it often makes for fascinating combinations.” She motions to Celaeno. “I, um, believe she’s picked up on a few things from me.”

Celaeno held her tried and true mask of neutral politeness while inwardly suppressing the throbbing headache and roiling stomach his words triggered. The headache came with the string of psychic cursing from a certain spirit that remained unnamed to Bradyn, but perhaps Genevieve had discovered by then during their practices together. Her stomach was a bundle of nerves, not looking forward to her condition’s side effects that loomed ahead once she completed the task. With a deep breath, a tell Bradyn might recognize from his last test of this particular guild apprentice, she lowers her own pack to the ground and takes out a folded cloth, mundane still as she laid it out on the ground at her feet. Inked on it was the containment barrier she favored in her necrotic rituals lately, with its inverted sigils and simple circle. Her technique had quite a few more steps than Genevieve’s far more intuitive process, yet time would tell if it proved as effective. She took out a trio of jars containing the remains her friend had given her to practice with. One had the many-ribbed skeleton of a small snake, another the delicate bones of a bat’s wings, the third a large forest lizard’s skull. She unscrews the pieces and methodically lays them out, much like one would the pieces of a puzzle before arranging them. Eventually her task distracts enough that she begins to work faster with it, whipping out enchantment stylus from the side pocket of her pack, and ever so delicately writing a series of tiny runes at the connective points of her impromptu creation. They were simple combinations, ones she managed to imbue power into without a complex circle, and worked to hold the parts together much as Genevieve’s natural power did for her creature.

When everything was said and done with the basic set up, then came the hard part. She gingerly sets the skeletal creation in the middle of the circle, the limp mess of bones sagging to one side. Another deep breath as she pushed her growing dark power into the inked symbols around the circle. They glowed as they activated with that hungry aura she had started growing very familiar with. A dull soreness started in her chest, but no hacking spasms racked it and her only nausea was still from her own foreboding anxiety. She had multiple, miniscule successes in her time since being promoted, and her partner had seen many of those attempts firsthand and still retained belief in her abilities. With that reassuring thought, she takes the plunge, filling the little bones and joints with the brunt of her energy like a waiting cup. Their conflicting energies and the arcane nature of her runes made her push harder, forcing the magic through until some sort of cohesion could be made between the joints not naturally fitted together. Her stomach clenched, chest aching and spasms starting from it. But she held them back, mouth stiffening into a line as she concentrated on seeing it through until the spell’s end, until her energy was spent and that limit reached. The small wings twitched, the tail of the snake wriggled, and the lizard skull cocked to one side. Her face contorted as she broke her concentration and clamped her mouth in the crook of her elbow as the first wave of hacking went through her. But...at least her mismashed pile of bones held shape, and even started to wriggle forward in a manner half centipede half worm, empty sockets jerking about like a spastic newborn.

The Maharan has meant for the test to be for Genevieve, but given the subject matter and how Celaeno performed during his last demand, he was not about to stop either of them. Genevieve first and then Celaeno. Subtle differences are noted in the performance, and Bradyn is paying keen attention to Celaeno’s mannerisms during all of this. It seems to the Maharan that Celaeno is trying very hard to keep herself composed, that if he were not here perhaps she would be reacting differently. Still, she has not vomited and has successfully managed to raise a being. Both Genevieve and Celaeno were successful, in fact, much to Bradyn’s delight (none of which transfers to his expression of course). Both of the female necromancer’s that stand before them will find that their creations are abruplty dismantled, crumpling into a neat little pile of parts for them to utilize later. Genevieve is spoken to first, “Your skill is obvious and so if you would like to join the Necromancer’s Guild, I would be happy to welcome you as our newest Novus Morior.” To Celaeno, “And you are obviously making progress. As we discussed during our last meeting, it was my plan that once you passed this test, to give you one more task. It is my opinion that once it is completed, you will have demonstrated that you are ready for your next promotion.” A glance slides back to Genevieve, “However, with Genevieve joining up, I am going to assign this task to the both of you. Show Genevieve the way to our guild headquarters. The the tasks that are left in notes? I want you to complete the one about the soul gem. I want both if you to do this.”

As soon as Celaeno finishes her spellwork, she places a light hand on her shoulder, brows furrowed with equal parts confusion and anxiety. The hacking is enough to concern Genevieve, who had hardly notices the dismantlement of her little chimera. Nearly stepping on the doe skull has her less than pleased, but she doesn’t make this immediately obvious… not that it would much matter to Bradyn himself. She gingerly picks up the scattered skeletal remnants and returns them to her knapsack with care, which is soon shrugged back onto her shoulders. Genevieve’s gaze shifts back to Celaeno. The bespectacled necromancer is still deeply concerned about her health, despite the captivation of her runework and the pride that naturally came with teaching her and watching her succeed. While there’s undoubtedly a gratified glint in her eyes, the experienced is still soured by the understanding that she’s suffering. Bradyn’s offer once again grabs her attention. The initial shock of acceptance recedes to skepticism — was she truly experienced enough? A part of her doubted it. “O-oh,” is her first reply. Hardly coherent, but the surprise on her face is obvious. She raises a brow with incredulity. “Um… yes, I suppose I-I’ll join. I accept you offer, Mister Mahara.” A beat. Her eyes widen; she looks as though she’s been doused with ice water. “Th-this opportunity will give me further access to the library, yes?” Realization dawning upon her, the same grin from before tugs at her lips — a genuine one, but a touch more morbid than before. She gives a succession of quick bows to Bradyn, disregarding his aloofness with the epiphany that she now has access to all these coveted texts. “Thank you so much, sir, n-no really, I-I do appreciate it, truly,” rambles Genevieve, delighted, only interrupted once he continues. The grin sticks once she learns that they’re already getting to work. She rubs her gloved hands together frantically, turning to Celaeno. “How thrilling! Cela, oh, I can’t wait for us to get to work!” She almost goes in for a hug, but halts, instead wrapping a bony arm around her companion’s shoulder. “And the fact that I could help you towards your promotion… that, um, does make me quite happy.” A sheepish blush again rises to her cheeks, slowly untangling herself from Celaeno and stepping away to rub the back of her neck. She timidly turns her gaze to a random section of wall. “U-um… th-thank you both. So much.”

Celaeno began to heave as her friend gave her the comforting touch and Bradyn delivered his assessment of their impromptu performance. Despite the copper tasting blood pooling in her mouth and staining her robe sleeve where she’d coughed into her elbow, she holds it down long enough to slip out the little vial of healing potion she’d taken to keeping under her left gauntlet, the glass scraping against the metal as she popped the cork and gulped it down. Her ego be damned, she needed to recover more than make a good impression. Her labored wheezing smoothed to labored pants as the lesions on her lungs healed anew and her stomach didn’t churn as violently during Genevieve’s abrupt shift from skeptical understanding to grateful acceptance. She started to snicker, but a final cough interrupted it. Still, Genevieve earned herself a bloody smile for her accomplishment--cheer showing through those stormy eyes more than her mouth. “Congratulations.” They would have to celebrate properly later. The final target of her attentive gaze as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve was their teacher and elder. Her eyebrows flew up her forehead, voice tinged with evident surprise, perhaps disbelief. “I...passed?” She hardly noticed Genevieve unlatching herself as the information processed and she offered yet another bow. “I...thank you. I will work on this task with Genevieve straight away. I will also endeavor to continue my studies in reanimation as well for that other...project, but it won’t get in the way of the gem, I’m sure.” That little condition though could prove to be a problem...

The wheezing, the hacking, the healing potion. He would not confront Celaeno in front of Genevieve, who seemed to have the similar thoughts as Bradyn. Her’s were born of concern while Bradyn was musing over if Celaeno has already met her limits. He was not so sure, yet, but if she has them she may need more assistance with her project than either had anticipated. “If you can tie a soul to a gem, you will be able to tie it to a body.” There was a reason that Bradyn had selected the task that he did for Celaeno, knowing full well that she would prefer to have a go at the task involving the nightmares. To the Necromancer’s Guild newest member, Bradyn explains, “The amount of access that you will have will increase as your knowledge and capabilities increase.” Therefore her rank within the guild. The higher her rank, the more access Genevieve will have. This is explanation and confirmation enough. “We could stay and chat and make small talk, but to be quite frank it is clear that Celaeno is in need of rest. Genevieve, if you will see to her. At the very least the two of you should travel out of Vailkrin together.” Bradyn was not going to assume Celaeno’s preferences too much in terms of when and where she decides to rest, but he is confident that if she travels through Vailkrin alone in her current state she could end up a midnight snack for a vampire. “Should either of you have questions prior to the completion of your current task, send word to House Mahara. We can make arrangements to meet.”