[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjQ0LmRiYzMwNi5TMmhoWlcxMGFYSWdUV0Z5ZVdGMGRXMCwuMAAA/ringbearer.medium.png[/img][/center]

The evening prior had been a success on all fronts, Khaemtir believed. The meeting between Radaam’s family and his own had been more than a little awkward and even though his own family had been polite and kind, he didn’t need to be a sorcerer of the Crows to see there was going to be a full interrogation about the situation later. Radaam’s stilted introduction sealed his fate on that matter. And sure enough, as soon as his mother got him alone, it was rapid fire questions and demands. “Why was he so uncomfortable?” and “You should help your friends more!” and “Khaemtir Lagus Mantheo Maryatum, you had better help him settle in or you’ll bring shame to the family!” Never mind that he had an entirely new world to settle into and he was her flesh and blood. Honestly, the whole name was a little much considering not even a candle length’s more, he was entertaining the guy in question in their home!

Which was surprisingly fun. Not that he’d thought it wouldn’t be; if he had, Khaemtir wouldn’t have invited them over. No, he was surprised that it was more entertaining than he thought. Radaam was an awkward little―well okay, not so little―thing and it was quite the source of amusement. Khaemtir’s stories were fresh for him and he had an interesting outlook when he offered input. Not that he offered a lot but a conversation has to go two ways sometimes. Of course, Ishara came along as well which gave him an opportunity to barrage her with conversation when Radaam was looking overwhelmed. Not to mention, she gave them an interesting look into how something worked. Apparently, she’d been approached by a Cabal, a sort of informal Fellowship with the Cults. Khaemtir almost let a barbed comment slip, an unnecessarily nasty jab at ehr lack of tutelary, when she mentioned it. That ugly irritation reared its head again but his [i]oh so wonderful[/i] sixty pound familiar decided it was a fantastic time to demand to sit in his lap, using one leg balanced painfully on his toes to give her enough height to pull herself up. She’d berated him silently for a solid five minutes after that.

But over all, a success! Friendships were formed, information was shared, and Khaemtir retired to bed more excited than when he woke. Now, here he was, drinking in the morning sun as it rose above the Dijat of Heka. The light positively danced between the pyramids, the result more spectacular than Khaemtir could have ever imagined. He couldn’t keep his eyes in one place for too long though, oohing and awing over every tulutary even as he judged them and their Sorcerers mentally with Udjebten. An activity which he immediately drew Radaam and Ishara into as soon as he caught sight and pulled the group together. And if he was doing it to avoid thinking about the massive, intimidating pyramid that signalled the end of a life and the beginning of something completely and utterly forgeign, well… only Udjebten would know. 

He’d deny it with his dying breath though. 

Eventually, tall, dark, and stoic showed up to guide them to Magus Dagon, leaving little room to converse. Not that that ever stopped Khaemtir, who immediately fell in step with the Sorcerer-Practicus and opened his mouth. He was a nervous talker, what could he say?

[color=FF47D8][i]‘You could try nothing, little Khaem.’[/i][/color] Udjebten shot back to the accidental though form where she trotted next to him. [color=FF47D8][i]‘The good Sorcerer-Practicus does not seem to be a morning person.’[/i][/color] Khaemtir only spared her a dignified sniff and he felt her laughter in the back of his mind. 

[color=E7D500]“That was amazing. How does it work? Obviously magic but does a person have to be a Sorcerer to interact with it or are the runes inherently magical?”[/color] Khaemtir asked Menes, who clearly had a singular focus. Tough crowd. Khaemtir was still on the fence though. Avoid or break through? His stoicism was definitely different from Radaam’s awkwardness but there could still be a good friend underneath that. Or a useful connection but Khaemtir liked to think friend was… well, more friendly! But those thoughts ground to a halt in the Hall of Prophecy. Ceremonial or not, it was an impressive room with impressive displays once you learned to breathe again. He couldn't’ imagine spending any significant amount of time in here was good for extended study but he figured that was to be expected. He didn’t understand a single thing on these tapestries but he had a bit of familiarity with the objects associated with them. He attributed the empty spaces to wear and tear; this amount of smoke couldn’t be good for any sort of fabric, especially old ones. He nodded at Menes’ suggestion, fully intent on looking into these. While Divination wasn’t quite the subject for him, understanding significant events of the Cult that took him in seemed an important task. 

Khametir was going to follow up with questions but Menes’ polite, preemptive deflection was enough to keep those from spilling out. At least he knew which side of the wall he’d come tumbling down on. Menes fell firmly in the breakthrough group now. Maybe not immediately but once he’d figured out how things work in here, Menes would be having lunch with him once a week at least. [color=E7D500] “So what do we think guys? Ready to learn about everything?”[/color] Khaemtir beamed at Ishara and Radaam, gesturing back to the Hall of Prophecy. [color=E7D500] “I’d at least like to know enough to understand what I was looking at!”[/color] Of course, he turned his attention away just as they stopped at Magus Dagon’s door and he nearly found himself colliding into Menes if not for a last minute twist that had him stumbling for half a second. 

Khaemtir, once Magus Dagon gave permission, slipped off his sandals and hung his cloak, bouncing over to a seat as he took in the room. [color=E7D500] Water, if I may sir.”[/color] Khaemtir replied politely, even as he itched to nose around. The lack of light was anything but annoying, the pleasant aroma mingling with the low lighting to ease tension out of the eyes and face. It was somewhere Khaemtir could fall asleep in no problem if he wasn’t as keyed up as he was. [color=E7D500] “The Hall of Prophecy was amazing. Are we permitted there freely or do we require permission? Sorcerer-Practicus Menes suggested we study them outside of our usual studies in the library but I imagine the Hall is an excellent source of motivation for doing so. Though, I guess that begs the question of why don’t we study them in our normal course of study. If they’re important to the history of the Cult, shouldn’t we?”[/color] Udjebten gave him a look from where she was still settling next to him and he promptly shut his mouth.

[right][sub]Nervously rambling with: [@Obscene Symphony][@Crusader Lord][@Dead Cruiser][/sub][/right]