[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PVzDjEH.png[/img] [h2][color=goldenrod]Amara Solidor[/color][/h2][/center] Around the ship, the storm raged. Inside the bowels of ship, the crew made merry. Raucous laughter in several echoed off the creaky wooded wall. The omni-present clank, smash and thump of mugs being placed, slammed or banged together formed a discordant chorus. Even on their best days, Amara found to crew of [i]The Cloud Chaser[/i], also wizards of the guild that bore the same name, to be an irritatingly rambunctious bunch. She had stashed herself in a corner of the room trying to find some privacy so she could focus on her studies, but there was no escaping the noise of some two dozen pirates drinking. Normally she would be outside, but with the storm raging and the atmospheric disrupter on the fritz (again) staying inside was marginally better. A pilfered lacrima-lantern swung on a hook above her, holding at bay the darkness and providing an unsteady light for her to read by. In front of her, laying open, was The Book. The Book didn't look special. In fact it looked completely ordinary. It had the appearance of an unused shoddy old journal that one could buy for a handful of jewel. It had soft, brown leather bindings sandwiching off-white pages with the yellowish tinge of parchment that, when opened, were completely blank. But, as so often with magic, appearances were deceiving. For one thing the book was more than a century old, and yet looked like it was just made. Also, it was very durable. Fire couldn't touch it, even blades couldn't harm it. As far as she knew it couldn't be ripped, stained, soaked, or otherwise effaced. Writing in it was futile; the ink wouldn't transfer to the pages. It also faintly radiated magic to those who were sensitive to such things. However, it was still a book. or more accurately, a library. Hard coded into the blank pages was a vast amount of knowledge from centuries of wizards. But clearly the ones who had created The Book did not create it to be easy to read. It was more like the information had been *shoved* in, making it difficult to find anything useful. At best she could pick out a random 'book' and read it But less useful subjects like history, genealogy, and poetry were mixed in among books on summoning, magic, and fruit bats with seemingly no regard for order. It was frustrating. She had all this knowledge at her fingertips but yet it was near impossible to read it, much less understand it and put it into practice. But she persevered. She had to. For herself. But she was distracted from her studies were interrupted when, ironically, an unusual silence fell over the Barracks. Her subconscious picked up on this, drawing her out of the nearly trance-like state she fell in when reading the book. Amara suddenly became aware that Ragnar had been speaking and she had no idea for how long. Her head snapped up as she heard her name. "...Amara, Silver Claw...". She found herself frowning as their Captain fished giving his orders. [color=goldenrod][I]Storms! I missed most of what he said.[/I][/color] She knew there was a mission coming up, and that she had a fair chance of being chose. That was why she didn't have any summons out, to conserve her strength. Normally she had one out at all time, as a form of practice. [color=goldenrod][I]Oh well. I'll keep quiet and pay attention. I should be able to pick up on what I missed.[/I][/color] She inserted the mental-magical equivalent of a bookmark, then shutting the magical tome and safely stowing it into a pocket. Said pocket was in the breast of a too-large greatcoat which she wore to ward off the weather and the cold. It was also useful as there, The Book would be safe from thieves. A guild they may be, but The Cloud Chasers were still pirates and some of them were of the unsavory sort. She pulled the coat tight, shivering despite herself. It was almost perpetually cold in the clouds, made worse by the storm that was currently blowing and the broken disruptor. However, the peals of thunder and winds sounded more muffled now. Did those incompetent engineers finally get that Storming machine to work again? Hopefully. Then the temperature would finally become more bearable. Gathering herself up, she stood and glanced around. Her oversized greatcoat hung to the floor. Various members of the guild were milling about, a hundred voices becoming an incoherent buzz. Roshar had mentioned Silver Claw after her name, so he was the man she was, reluctantly, looking for. Claw had a reputation as fearsome as his appearance. Amara didn't know any details, but the other guildmembers treated him with awe and reverence, born of fear. He intimidated everyone and no one wanted to cross Claw. Amara had avoided him too, but she avoided everyone so she knew nearly nothing about him. Nor, however, was she intimated. She spotted him quickly, for his appearance and his height made him stand out. He was also looking straight at her. She suppressed a shiver, instead putting on a blank, bored look with just a touch of haughty confidence. With her expression in place, she sidled around the edge of the room, then cutting through the crowd of pirates to stand an arm's length from Claw. She found it irritating that, even at that distance she had to tilt her head way up to look him in the eye. She gave him a small smile she didn't feel and said [color=goldenrod]"Evening."[/color] She said quietly with a nod. She reminded herself that she refused to be intimidated, even if he probably was as large as two of her combined. Then she shoved her hands in her pockets and stood there quietly, not inclined to initiate more conversation then necessary. She still had yet to find out what the hell was going on. [@Leslie Hall] [@Lmpkio]