[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01989753-c0d4-751e-94b6-ac932f65638b.webp[/img][hr][@Achronum][@Trainerblue192][@Morose][@Blizz][@Kirah][@PatientBean][@Teyao][@KazAlkemi][@kittyluna45][hr][h3][color=57F287][b]Late Morning - Fri. Nov. 1st, 2040 [/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr]


[H1][center][color=Red]The Statue of Ardyon[/color][/center][/h1]
[sub][center]Connie, Barty, Jake[/center][/sub]

The magic of eld was a quiet and subtle thing, drawn of a single plane and infused with intention. Barty Macloud was steeped in these magics and rolled off his tongue with the ease of breath. Whether he willed it or not, he wove enchantments into his words and the spark of nostalgia born into an ancient vampire spoke back. “Ardyon was a fool. He sought to quell the tensions rising between a vampire noble and the people of his village on the border of Italy and Slovenia. It would have been a massacre.” His voice was far away and distant, as if he thought he was elsewhere. “Althoigh I do not know what manner of artifact he claimed, my services were requested to separate it from the stone. My original findings were the same: that the magic sustained Ardyon, that the artifact powered the spell, and that the solution to this puzzle is carved into the stone.”

Whatever feeling overwhelmed him faded away and Croan shook his head sharply and his face settled into the disapproving frown he regularly wore. “My belief is that we cannot see the forest for the trees - that the solution is already here, we simply need to reorient the picture.”

[H1][center][color=magenta]A Trip through Magic[/color][/center][/h1]
[sub][center]Willow, Nicky, Callaghan, Cassiopeia[/center][/sub]

 Nicholas offered Cal a brief glance and fell a half step behind, permitting Cal to lead them. [color=5b8a9a]“High spirits indeed. If I did not already have the displeasure of his acquaintance, I would have thought him in his cups.”[/color] Nicholas offered in return. Now that he'd had some distance and a moment to cool, Nicholas agreed with Cal. Something was just a bit off and Nicholas did not care that he could not put his finger on it. The Professor, for all his irritating good intentions, commanded his wits with an iron fist. And if his protégé thought his behavior odd, Nicholas was inclined to believe it. Nicholas glanced back at Cal's butterfly as she posed a question and opted to allow the shifter to answer. 

The library was, on the surface, a simple affair. A moderate sized room with row after row of shelving, books in all shapes and sizes, scrolls nestled next to tomes, and strange book ends that seemed to move whenever you weren't looking. Stepping through heavy iron doors bound open with iron chains that smelled faintly of brimstone, a round librarian's desk was immediately to the left and a stout, stubbled chinned librarian glanced up at the four and then back down at the text they were transcribing. 

The history and religion sections were separated by a small gathering of tables in the bookshelves. Cal led them deeper into the library when the floor suddenly folded and they stepped down along the ground. The gravity never shifted and the sight only lasted for a moment: Space folded in on itself over and over and over, creating a complex overlapping maze that was the library. It was massive but Cal was an old hand at navigating the strange directions and soon enough they would find themselves at the crossroads of History, Religion, and Politics. Language, Cal was aware, was another bend around the corner at the far end of Cultural Studies. 

Nicholas paused at a table, noted that a few people had left belongings behind, and looked at Cal directly. [color=5b8a9a]“What crypticness hides in the madness your mentor wrote?”[/color] 

[H1][center][color=gold]Into the Unknow[/color][/center][/h1]
[sub][center]Rohan, Finley/Dysphoria, Frankie, Annika[/center][/sub]

Something predatory flashed across Sariel's face as her students offered the very essence of their beings into the magic, but it was gone in an instance and pride instead glowed from her. 

Literally. 

The same magic that the mechanisms drew out of the Neverish simmered just beneath her skin, bolts of lightning that skittered through her. However… 

Whatever was in the Woodling's blood [i]challenged[/i] Dysphoria's claim over the fey and Dysphoria found that unacceptable. Even the claiming reassurance of Finley's fingers and soothing feelings was not enough to quell the symbiote's possessiveness. Dysphoria took the forefront, symbiote skin bubbling up and over Finley and drawing their Darling inside of their protective shell. 

On the outside, Finley was hidden behind fleshy purples and pinks as Dysphoria stared down Rohan. [color=F739D7]“Woodling. If whatever thing skulks inside your blood dare lay a finger on my Darling again, there will be no restraint as I tear it from you strand by strand and I will delight in both your agonies before I consume you. Alive if possible.”[/color]